Tomorrow's Path

by Anna Jacobs

  ‘I won’t try to. Jessica, look, I don’t know how to put this tactfully, but— Well, I think we can help each other. I have a few friends in the UK, all the money I need, but at the moment I’m better staying out of the country most of the time. It’s been lonely in Australia and I’m still pestered by female fans when I go out and about. You saw how it happened in the restaurant in Melbourne and you defused it nicely. I find it both distasteful and embarrassing and I admit I don’t handle it well sometimes.’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘And then there’s my ex, as I’ve explained.’ He pushed his chair back abruptly and began to pace the room, three steps to the window, three steps back, words coming in short bursts.

  Her heart ached for his stiff anguish but he still hadn’t said what he was proposing.

  He came to a halt beside her. ‘You’re very easy to be with, Jessica. You don’t fuss. You’re not trying to throw yourself at me.’

  He paused for so long she asked, ‘I’m not quite sure where this is leading.’

  ‘I’m trying to ask you to come and live with me.’

  ‘What?’ Hope flared, dying almost immediately as she looked at his face. This wasn’t an amorous proposition – unfortunately.

  ‘And I’m asking a little more than that. Would you also pretend to be my – er – my live-in girlfriend? In public, that is. I can assure you that I’ll not annoy you with my attentions when we’re alone together.’

  ‘That seems rather an extreme solution. Why don’t you just buy a flat in a security block?’

  ‘I’d hate to live in a flat. I think this idea would be a good solution for me and my mother won’t butt in if she thinks I’m with someone. And if Louisa hears about us, she may accept that I’ve found someone else and I’m never having her back.’

  Jessica could only stare at him, not knowing what to say.

  ‘I need time to write my next book, Jessica – time and peace. And so do you. You’d have no expenses, since I have a spare bedroom and, well, what do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She’d give anything to be his live-in girlfriend if he loved her, but she wasn’t sure she could pretend affection in public and then switch it off when they were alone. She’d be bound to give herself away. At least as things stood now, they were friends.

  He took a deep breath and said in a rush, ‘As I said, it would be necessary to act in a loving manner in public. That’s why it’s such an imposition, why I’ve hesitated to ask you, but having seen what you’ve been going through, I think it would be a good solution for you as well. I can promise I won’t intrude on your writing time very often.’

  It was her turn to struggle for words. ‘I’m not good at telling lies, Jivan.’

  ‘I know. Your honesty is one of the things I like about you. No pretence. No posturing. No complaining and bitching, either.’

  Goodness, she thought, what on earth had his marriage been like?

  He still kept his distance physically, using only words to bridge the gap between them. ‘You’ve become a very special friend, Jessica.’

  She had to ask. ‘And what if one of us falls in love with someone else? What happens then?’

  He shrugged. ‘You might fall in love. I definitely shan’t. I have no belief whatsoever in romantic love. It’s an illusion. I don’t deny that attractions occur – physical attractions, anyway – but I don’t believe that romantic relationships can last in real life, and I don’t intend to chase any more mirages.’

  ‘That’s why your hero always walks away at the end of the book.’ She spoke without thinking.

  ‘Perhaps. But I like to write stories about Sam Shere, so I need to keep him unattached romantically. It’s strange, how real he seems to me now.’ He took another deep breath. ‘I’m not asking this lightly, Jessica. I’ve thought it over very carefully. If you had no living expenses, you could concentrate on your writing. And I’d enjoy your company when we’re not writing. I, um, get a bit lonely at times.’

  She didn’t know how to answer, but that last admission made her heart break for him. She sat tracing the pattern of the tablecloth with one fingertip. ‘It still seems a strange solution, more like something out of a gothic romance.’

  ‘Perhaps I’m a strange sort of man. I sometimes think so. Will you at least think it over? Or are you turning it down straight away? If you are, I won’t pester you, but—’

  ‘I’m not turning it down, but I do need to think about it, Jivan.’

  ‘Yes, of course. Now, I must get ready. I’ll be out all day. I’m doing research, seeing a guy about some gadgets he’s invented, which might fit into my next story.’

  ‘Will you be back for tea?’

  ‘Yes, but don’t try to cook anything. We can get some Chinese takeaway.’

  After he’d left, she sat for a while, staring blankly into space, then went to switch on her computer. She had a sudden idea and decided to make notes about it. As usual, she forgot everything when she started writing, not even bothering to get washed and dressed.

  She spent over an hour revising the last couple of chapters and adding a new scene. She hadn’t felt so happy in a long time. If she had uninterrupted time every day … Oh, Jivan’s offer was so very tempting.

  When she grew tired, she lay down on the bed to read and didn’t wake up until nearly noon and even then she certainly wasn’t full of energy. In fact, her recovery hadn’t been nearly as quick as she’d hoped. She’d researched chronic fatigue syndrome online and was desperate to avoid that complication.

  She really did need rest and somewhere peaceful to live.

  But Jivan didn’t want a relationship, just a calm, friendly arrangement, and she wanted more. She had been half in love with him from the first time they met, when he presented her prize. The past few days, the way he’d looked after her had only made her fall more deeply in love with him.

  Could she hide her own feelings if she lived with him? She could try … would try. Oh, face it, Jessica, she told herself. You’d live with him on any terms. Some liberated woman you are! she mocked herself.

  It was a relief when the phone rang. ‘Jivan Childering, please!’ said a man’s voice before she could speak.

  ‘I’m sorry. He’s not here at the moment. Can I take a message?’

  ‘It’s the Southern Herald newspaper. We’d like to arrange an interview with Mr Childering.’

  ‘You’ll have to ask him about that.’

  ‘Aren’t you his secretary?’

  ‘No. I’m just a friend. I believe you should ring him at the Hyatt.’

  ‘Thank you. We’ll do that. Miss Lord, isn’t it? Are you a close friend of Mr Childering?’

  She put the receiver down abruptly, realising that the reporter had been stringing her along in order to pump her for information. As she started to walk towards the kitchen, the phone rang again. She let it ring through to the answering system and heard the same voice, so didn’t try to pick up.

  Within seconds the phone rang a third time. She took an uncertain step away from it and stood hesitating, not knowing what to do. How on earth had they found out he was here?

  No one had known except a few people at work and why would they— And then she realised. Mike Larreter must have done this. As payback. Who else could it be?

  After a while, the phone stopped ringing. She waited, nerves on edge, but nothing happened.

  This sort of thing would happen regularly if she lived with Jivan. How did he stand it?

  Could she bear it?

  Twelve

  Later, Jessica went across to the window and stared out. No one was in sight.

  Jivan wasn’t the only one who got lonely.

  She put the kettle on. ‘Well, at least someone is coming home at teatime,’ she said aloud.

  ‘They say it’s the first sign of madness, talking to yourself,’ someone said from outside the open window, and chuckled.

  Jessica stared at the figure framed in the window. ‘Barbara! Wh
at are you doing here in the middle of a working day?’ She rushed to open the door.

  Barbara dumped a massive bouquet of flowers on top of the table and flung her arms round Jessica. ‘We’ve all been so worried about you! If your Jivan hadn’t phoned me a couple of times to say he was still looking after you, I’d have been round before this.’

  Another hug, then Barbara held her at arm’s length to scrutinise her face closely. ‘You look as if you’ve lost weight and you’re paler than usual. Shouldn’t you be sitting down?’ Not waiting for an answer to any of her questions, she guided Jessica across the living area and plumped down beside her on the couch, talking all the time, as usual.

  ‘Oh, it’s sheer heaven to be out of the office on a sunny day! I’m here on the Big Panjandrum’s orders, no less. Flowers, courtesy of the department. And I’m to make sure that you’re all right – do your shopping, if needed, whatever!’

  ‘Goodness! That’s star treatment!’

  ‘Mike’s going round looking like a thundercloud. Our eager beaver manager has got himself in everyone’s black books. And that couldn’t have happened to a more deserving person.’

  ‘He’ll worm his way out of it again.’

  ‘Not in our department, he won’t. The union’s been in and has demanded a written apology from him.’ She fumbled in her handbag and held out a slightly crumpled envelope. ‘This is it.’

  ‘File it where it belongs, in the rubbish bin. The mere sight of his handwriting makes me feel dizzy again.’

  Barbara chuckled. ‘No sooner said than done. He didn’t mean a word of the apology, anyway, so who cares what he wrote?’

  She came back and sat down, her voice gentler. ‘How are you coping, though? Who’s doing your shopping?’

  Jessica flushed. ‘Jivan is. He’s been staying with me. He’s—’

  Barbara grabbed her arm, bouncing up and down on the couch in her excitement. ‘Oh, wow! Tell all! Did Mike run into him when he came round to harass you?’

  ‘Well, yes. He did.’

  ‘No wonder he was so furious. Oh, if only I’d been a fly on the wall! Wait till I tell the girls about this.’

  ‘Barbara, you mustn’t!’

  ‘I’d find it hard to stop myself, dear! Our pet rat needs taking down a few hundred pegs.’ She saw Jessica’s expression and grimaced. ‘But it would make things worse for you when you came back to work, wouldn’t it, if I spread the good news? What a pity!’

  And that reminder of what it was like at work was the final straw. ‘I’m not coming back. Don’t say anything because I haven’t resigned yet, but I shall do. I mean it about wanting to write, Barbara. I asked for some leave without pay, but Mike refused, so …’ she shrugged.

  ‘They might allow you to take leave now.’

  ‘No. I’ve made my mind up. I couldn’t return to that sort of institutional life. It’s less real in there than on my imaginary planet. No, I’m leaving.’ She felt as if a huge burden had been lifted at the thought of never having to work with Mike Larreter again, preferably never even seeing him again. And also of not spending her days in offices that didn’t even have windows, just blank walls and partitions, with every noise echoing around you.

  ‘Would you like a cup of coffee, Barbara?’

  ‘I’d love one. But I’ll make it. I’ve brought us a quiche for lunch and a salad platter. You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Are you hungry?’

  ‘Very hungry.’

  The phone rang.

  ‘Leave it!’

  Barbara gave her a puzzled look. ‘Is Mike still pestering you? Because if so—’

  ‘No. It’s probably the press. They’ve found out Jivan’s staying with me. Someone rang from the Southern Herald. I didn’t twig straight away that they were trying to dig up information. They had my name already, though, goodness knows how.’

  ‘Does it matter so much?’

  Jessica nodded. ‘Yes, it does. Jivan has a stalker and he needs to keep where he’s living secret!’

  ‘It’s just like a soapie! Wait for the next exciting instalment …’ She saw the frown on Jessica’s face and said softly, ‘I won’t say a word to anyone, love – not till your romance hits the headlines, at least, then I’ll look unbearably smug and say I knew about it all along.’

  ‘It’s not a romance.’ She only wished it were.

  ‘Oh, come on. Who are you kidding? Your whole face softens when you say his name.’ She held up one hand. ‘I won’t tease you. Sit down at the table and Madame Barbara, famous chef de takeaway, will dish up the quiche.’

  Once the meal was over, they drew up a shopping list together, then Barbara went out to stock up the larder. While she was away, Jessica arranged the flowers, then had another little rest which turned into a nap.

  She woke when Barbara returned and they unpacked together, giggling over the latest departmental rumours and gossip. Eventually Barbara sighed. ‘I suppose I’d better get back on the treadmill for the last hour. Can I just ask? How serious is this Jivan thing?’

  Jessica flushed. ‘We’re only good friends. Unfortunately.’

  ‘But you wish it were more?’

  ‘Yes. But it isn’t. And don’t – don’t believe anything you see about us in the papers or online. Don’t believe we’re together in that way unless I tell you. I’ll keep in touch, but I think I’ll be moving away from here soon.’

  ‘Make sure you do keep in touch.’

  ‘I will. I’m not so over-supplied with friends that I can abandon one as good as you.’

  Which won her another of Barbara’s hugs.

  ‘People are asking about you. They like you, you know. You could have had more friends if you’d gone out with the others more often.’

  ‘And then I’d not have had time for my writing. It’s a catch twenty-two situation, isn’t it?’

  As she stood at the door waving, there was a flash. It took a moment for it to register that someone had taken a photo of her.

  She darted back inside and slammed the door. She’d have to get used to this sort of thing now, because she was going to accept Jivan’s offer.

  Happiness filled her. She was going to write full-time and spend her days with Jivan.

  For a time, at least.

  She would make the most of it.

  Jivan came home just after six o’clock, by which time Jessica had a simple beef casserole simmering in the oven and had set the table. He stopped in the doorway to sniff appreciatively and say, ‘Mmm. Delicious!’

  ‘You haven’t tasted it yet.’

  ‘How did you get the ingredients? I had the car.’

  ‘Barbara came to see me and did some shopping.’

  ‘I think her visit must have done you good. You’re looking more cheerful.’ He stretched, rolling his shoulders about as if he was very stiff. ‘I tried to call you at lunchtime, but the phone was engaged.’

  She took a deep breath. ‘I wasn’t answering it anyway.’ There was no easy way to break the news. ‘Jivan, the press seem to have found out that you’re staying with me. And they knew my name as well as the phone number.’

  His lips became a thin bloodless line and his hands clenched into tight fists. ‘You didn’t say anything to anyone, so who can have done this?’

  ‘Not Barbara. I trust her absolutely.’

  ‘That only really leaves one person at your department, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. It’s exactly the sort of thing Mike would do. Besides, who else could have given them my home phone number? It’s ex-directory.’

  ‘What did you say to the press?’

  ‘More than I should have done. I’m so sorry. It took me a while to realise what was happening. By then I’d said enough to confirm my name and give away the fact that I’m not your secretary.’

  She was frightened by the depth of anger on his face and said quickly, ‘I’m not used to dealing with them, Jivan. And – and I’ll perfectly understand if you want to move out of here and take back your offer.’

/>   ‘Do you want me to move out?’

  ‘No, of course I don’t!’

  He merely raised an eyebrow at her, his expression chill and supercilious. ‘Does that mean that you’ve decided to accept my offer?’

  ‘Yes. If … well, can we discuss what the arrangements would be after dinner?’ She didn’t want to discuss it while he was so angry. To change to a safer topic, she added quickly, ‘Barbara not only brought the flowers, she brought a written apology from Mike. I threw it away unopened.’

  ‘It’s all it deserves. And yes, we’ll talk after dinner. What time are we eating?’

  His smile was an effort but perhaps it was a sign that his anger was dying down. ‘It’d be better if the casserole had another half-hour in the oven, but whenever you like after that.’ She pressed her lips together to stop herself babbling on, though it was tempting to try to fill the heavy silence.

  ‘I’ve time for a shower, then. Is that convenient, Jessica?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He stopped as he was leaving the room and spoke more naturally. ‘Your hair looks pretty and it’s nice to have dinner waiting, but don’t overdo things, will you? These viruses can hang around for months, even years, if you don’t allow yourself time to recover properly.’

  With that, he was gone, and she was left to finish setting the table and figure out what she needed to ask him. After a while she shook her head, picked up the newspaper he’d brought back with him and began to leaf through it.

  As they ate, Jivan gradually relaxed, telling her about his day. ‘The scientist was very useful. His work fits in well with an idea I have for my next book. After I left him I did some personal shopping, then I walked along the Swan River foreshore. Perth is a stunning location! I don’t know why I haven’t been here before. I think I’ll set a story here.’

  A little later he said casually, ‘I nearly forgot. I just heard that they’re going to release the film of Shere Murder earlier than originally planned. Maybe, if things go well, you could come to the Australian premiere with me. Or even the UK premiere. I shall definitely have to go to that.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to seeing it. It’s such a powerful story. I hope they haven’t spoiled it.’ She studied him, head on one side. ‘I think you’re trying to be like Sam.’