by Susan Lewis
As the day wore on, though an occasional dizzy spell unsteadied her she felt fine again a few minutes later and, since she’d just got off a flight from New York, she naturally put the shakiness down to jet lag. Marielle was out interviewing and didn’t come back all day and Ruth had things so well under control that in truth there wasn’t much for Penny to do. But she stayed at her desk the entire day, working on her interview with Luke Pleasance and collating all the information she had collected from editors and journalists in New York. At six o’clock she picked up the phone to call Sylvia. She was greeted by a voice she didn’t know and which announced that Sylvia wasn’t expected back until after the New Year. She tried Sylvia’s home, but all she got was a recorded message telling her that no one was in right now.
Feeling herself in danger of becoming paranoid, that everyone had gone missing and they were all keeping their whereabouts secret from her, she quickly packed up her desk and asked Ruth to drive her home. On the way she asked Ruth if she knew where Sylvia was, but Ruth hadn’t spoken to Sylvia in over a week and had no idea where she might be.
‘Do you want me to stop at a pharmacy and get something for that cold?’ Ruth offered as they made the slow crawl along the Carnot towards Le Cannet.
‘No, I’ve got things at home,’ Penny answered, gazing out at the spectacular displays of Christmas lights and wondering why she felt so out of touch with the world, as though she were just passing through and might at any moment, like the snow in the air, fade into the nothing.
‘Then what about getting you some food?’
‘No, I’ll just go straight to bed and try to sleep off the jet lag.’
It was clear when they got to the villa that Ruth was loath to leave her alone, but Penny insisted that all she needed was to sleep and asked Ruth to excuse her for not inviting her in.
The house was as cold and dark and empty as she’d expected it to be. For some peculiar reason it felt so much bigger than before and as she walked into the sitting room she found herself wishing desperately that she might find Sammy there. But Sammy was in the Caribbean with Stefan, fully recovered from her ordeal at the hands of David’s people, if the last time they’d spoken was anything to go by. The messages on the answerphone were the same ones she had replayed over the phone earlier in the day, with the exception of the last one, which must have come in while she was on her way home, and Penny smiled as she listened to Sammy’s voice, thinking that they must have some kind of sisterly telepathy. The message was simply telling her that Sammy had missed the last post so was calling to wish her a Happy Christmas and would call again on Boxing Day when she got back from her cruise.
Suddenly desperate for someone to talk to, Penny sat down next to the phone and dialled David’s apartment in Cannes. It was a stupid thing to do, of course, because even though she hadn’t expected a reply the fact that there was none made her feel lonelier and more afraid than ever. She wished she knew where the fear was coming from, but it had no coherence, no roots in logic or shape she could understand. All she knew was that it was there, billowing through her mind like a cloud of black smoke and pushing her deeper and deeper into a void of irrational dread. The desire to be strong for David, to prove to him and to herself that she could handle this and keep things going, was the single bright flame in the darkness of her mind, but even that was beginning to flicker in the chill air of portent.
She stayed where she was, huddled into her coat and staring at the empty hearth as she shivered and shook and wave after wave of exhaustion bore down on her as though to grind her into nothing. There was a hissing sound in her ears like the lasting echo of the sea in a shell and her skin was red-hot and tender. She felt so disgustingly sorry for herself, yet it seemed so unfair that she should be ill at a time when she needed her strength more than ever.
Sighing, she dragged herself up from the chair and went in search of some Lemsip or aspirin or a hot-water bottle. Finding all three, she put on the kettle and sat down to wait for it to boil. Before it did she was back at the phone, dialling the Delaneys’ number in the hope that they might be able to tell her what was going on. But as soon as the phone rang at the other end she pressed the connectors, cutting the call. If there was anything to hear, she didn’t want to hear it from them. Then, dialling again, she called Mally, her rock-star friend, whom she hadn’t spoken to in months. She didn’t hold out much hope of Mally being there, but her need to speak to someone kept her hanging on the line. At last Mally answered, having dragged herself from the bath, and to Penny’s relief she was in for the evening so had plenty of time to chat.
For a while Penny wasn’t at all sure what they were talking about as her eyes swam in and out of focus and the sound of their voices ebbed and flowed like a symphony playing behind closed doors. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been on the phone when she heard Mally calling down the line, ‘Pen? Pen? Are you still there?’
‘Yes, I’m here,’ Penny answered, feeling Mally’s voice penetrate the gelatinous mist in her head.
‘So tell me what’s been happening to you,’ Mally said. ‘You sound terrible, by the way. Have you got the flu or something?’
‘Yes, ’fraid so,’ Penny heard herself say.
‘Too bad. Anyway, come on, out with it, what’s been happening over there? Any men on the scene?’
Penny gave a splutter of laughter. ‘Mal, I wouldn’t know where to start,’ she said, aware she was too tired even to try.
But Mally wasn’t so easily put off and bit by bit she managed to coax the story out of Penny, until in the end she was silent and Penny was the only one talking. By the time she’d finished Penny felt more exhausted than ever, but her eyes had remained dry and for some reason the fire on her skin had lessened.
‘So there you have it,’ she said finally. ‘Bit of a mess, eh?’
Mally didn’t answer straight away, but when she did Penny felt her heart churn at the concern in her voice. ‘You sound dreadful,’ she said. ‘I’ve never heard you like this before and frankly, Pen, I’m really worried. Why don’t you come back to England for a while? You know you can always stay here.’
Penny’s throat was tight. ‘No,’ she said. ‘But thanks anyway.’
‘OK, then I’ll be blunt. Do they have any hospitals for tropical diseases nearby, because after what you said about being in that lake I think you should go and get yourself checked out.’
Penny’s eyes closed. It was as though Mally had reached into the core of her fear and plucked out the very thorn she was afraid to confront. ‘I don’t know,’ she said lamely. ‘I’ll have to ask someone.’
‘Well, there’s sure to be one somewhere and I want you to promise me that you’ll go and see someone – and soon. Like tomorrow.’
‘OK, I promise,’ Penny replied.
But the following morning when she got out of bed she felt much better. Still a little fluey maybe, and slightly nauseous, but certainly not so ill that she couldn’t work. Or go out to shop for a Christmas tree and turkey roasting dish in the vain hope that David might come back. On Sunday afternoon she fell asleep on the floor beside the half-decorated tree, then woke up and staggered to the bathroom, where she tried – and failed – to throw up.
On Monday morning she called in sick and went to see a local doctor, who sent her off to the labs to get her blood tested. They took so much blood she wondered what on earth he could be testing her for, but not wanting to dwell on it she rolled down her sleeve and, ignoring the doctor’s advice to go back to bed, she went into the office. She had made David a promise to keep things going and nothing, but nothing, was going to stand in the way of that.
On Tuesday morning, despite a violent bout of sneezing and a dash to the loo to throw up when she smelt her own perfume, she felt strong enough to go into the office again and was on the point of leaving when the buzzer at the gates sounded.
Remembering that David didn’t have a remote control, she ran to the entryphone.
‘Penny? It’s
Esther Delaney,’ the voice at the other end said.
It was as though a band of steel suddenly closed around Penny’s heart. Why was Esther here? Did she have any news of David? A part of her wanted to die rather than hear anything from her, yet another part was almost ready to beg.
‘Could I come in, dear?’ Esther asked.
Penny braced herself. She didn’t find it easy to be rude to people, but right now Esther felt like a deserving case. ‘Why?’ she said, shortly.
‘I think it would be better if I came in,’ Esther said.
As she waited for Esther to come up the drive Penny could feel the shallowness of her breath and a strange kind of fragility about the air that made her almost afraid to move. She pulled the door open and watched the car approach. The last thing on her mind was the way she looked, until she saw the shock on Esther’s face.
However, Esther didn’t comment. Nor did she attempt to greet her the way they always used to, with a kiss on either cheek. She simply walked up the steps to the house and followed Penny through to the kitchen, looking considerably less preposterous than normal in a sombre black dress and low-heeled shoes. Then, sitting down at the table, she opened up her handbag and lit a cigarette while Penny put on some coffee.
‘So?’ Penny said, sitting down opposite her and fixing her with anxious yet hostile eyes.
Esther flushed and looked down at her hands. Then, taking a quick draw on her cigarette, she said, ‘He’s gone.’ Her hand snaked through the air. ‘Gone, never coming back.’
As the words bit into Penny’s heart she felt the room starting to spin. ‘What do you mean?’ she said angrily. ‘Why can’t you talk properly? Who are we talking about?’
‘Stirling went back on their deal,’ Esther answered. ‘He’s been arrested . . .’
The blood was draining from Penny’s face. ‘What are you talking about?’ she cried. ‘I know Christian’s been arrested!’
‘Not Christian. David,’ Esther said.
Penny’s insides turned to water; her throat was like chalk. She stared at Esther’s pallid face, watched the cigarette go between her lips and the smoke rush out of her nose.
Esther’s fingers were trembling as she took another long pull on her cigarette, then ground it out in the ashtray. ‘He loved you, dear,’ she said shakily. ‘I didn’t realize it until it was too late, but he really loved you.’
Suddenly Penny snapped. ‘Stop it!’ she yelled. ‘Stop telling me things you know nothing about and tell me what’s happened.’
Esther seemed cowed by the outburst and her voice was frail as she said, ‘I’m not terribly sure yet. Wally will be able to tell you better than I can.’
‘Then where is he?’ Penny cried.
‘I’m afraid I don’t know,’ Esther answered pathetically. ‘All I know is that after David left you the other Saturday—’
‘What do you mean?’ Penny demanded. ‘What do you know about that? For God’s sake . . .’ She stopped and squeezed her eyes tightly closed. She had to get a grip on herself, she had to make herself deal with this. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, forcing herself to breathe slowly. ‘Go on. When David left . . .’
Esther was about to continue when the telephone suddenly shrilled into the room. Penny went to answer it, momentarily tempted to hit the button for the answerphone, but guessing it was someone from the office calling to find out if she was coming in, she picked it up.
‘Penny? Wally Delaney here. Just called home. The cleaner told me Esther was with you.’
Penny turned to Esther. ‘I’ll pass you over,’ she said coldly.
As Esther took the phone Penny sat down again. She could only hear one side of the conversation, but it didn’t take much working out what they were saying.
‘Yes, I’m very well, dear,’ Esther said. ‘How are things your end? How is he?’ Her eyes turned to Penny and she smiled. ‘Yes, she’s here – she’s just answered the phone to you, old thing.’ Then, to Penny: ‘Have you been here all weekend, dear?’ Penny nodded. ‘Yes, she’s been here all weekend,’ Esther said into the phone. ‘I don’t know,’ she went on. ‘Maybe something was up with the telephone. I don’t know,’ she repeated. Then she listened for a while, said goodbye and put the receiver down.
‘David’s going to call you in a few minutes,’ she said.
Penny’s insides folded as she suddenly felt she must be losing her mind. ‘I thought you said he’d gone?’ she cried. ‘Jesus Christ, Esther, what are you doing?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Esther said lamely. ‘I absolutely thought he was gone. I haven’t heard from Wally since Friday. I didn’t know what was happening so I assumed the worst.’
Penny looked at her, dumbfounded. That she could sit there and lie at a time like this, that she could jump to her own stupid conclusions and tell her that David was gone and never coming back, that he had been arrested . . . then that he was going to call in a few minutes . . . What was the matter with the woman? Why was she doing this?
The telephone rang and Penny looked at it, half afraid it was about to play her a trick. Then, picking it up from the table, she said, ‘Hello?’
‘Pen? It’s me.’
‘David?’ she whispered, an overwhelming tide of relief and love flooding her heart.
‘Sure, it’s me,’ he said. His voice was croaky, but she could hear the smile.
‘Where are you?’ she said. ‘What’s going on?’
‘It’s kind of hard to explain right now,’ he answered, ‘but I’m in London. Sylvia’s been rushed to hospital for emergency surgery and they’ve let me come to see her before I go.’
Penny felt the the panic, the nausea, the dizziness, everything start to swirl through her in a blinding choas. ‘Go where?’ she said breathlessly.
He gave a dry laugh and she could hear the tears in his voice. ‘I have to surrender myself,’ he told her. ‘Esther will be able to explain some of it and as soon as I can I’ll write you a long letter telling you everything that’s happened.’
‘Oh God,’ Penny murmured under her breath. This couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. ‘Esther said Stirling reneged. Is that true?’
‘His hands were tied,’ he answered. ‘There was nothing he could do in the end.’
She took a breath and closed her eyes tightly. ‘Why didn’t you call?’ she said. ‘I was so worried.’
‘I know and I’m sorry. It’s just been difficult and things . . . Well, nothing’s gone the way I thought it would. I tried calling you all weekend. Where were you?’
‘I was here,’ she answered. ‘Something must have been wrong with the phone.’
There was a pause as they both felt the sheer desperateness of the situation.
‘How long will you be gone?’ she asked, steeling herself for the answer.
‘I don’t know for sure. Five years, maybe less.’
Five years! This was a nightmare. She’d wake up in a minute and he would be there, grinning at her, teasing her and telling her it was all a joke. ‘Oh God, David . . .’
‘I’m sorry, Pen,’ he said. ‘I didn’t think it was going to happen like this.’ He paused. ‘I love you. You know that, don’t you? I love you very much.’
‘I love you too,’ she whispered.
‘Keep that bed warm for me?’ he said.
‘Of course,’ she said brokenly.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, and she could tell he was having as hard a time keeping it together as she was.
The need to touch him, to see him, was burning an unbearable frustration deep into her heart. ‘When are you leaving?’ she asked, the idea of flying over to London rushing into her mind.
‘In about an hour. I’m at a hotel outside the airport. I’ll have to go soon.’
Penny swallowed hard. There was so much she wanted to say, but nothing was coming. ‘Where are you going?’ she said.
‘Miami.’ Then, in a voice fractured with emotion he said, ‘I wish you were here right now so I could hold you
in my arms.’
‘Oh David,’ she choked. ‘I wish I was there too. I love you. I’m never going to stop loving you.’
‘No, me neither,’ he said. Then, ‘I’ve got to go now, got to get that plane. You’ll be OK, Pen. Nuance is yours – they won’t be able to take it away. Look after yourself, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘And remember . . .’ His voice gave out for a moment. ‘You know what I’m saying,’ he whispered, and the line went dead.
‘David!’ she cried, tears streaming down her face. ‘David!’ But there was no reply.
She looked helplessly at Esther.
‘It’s all right, dear,’ Esther said soothingly, taking the receiver from her and replacing it. ‘You’ll be all right. We’ll be here to take care of you.’
Penny’s eyes closed as the nightmare of those words engulfed her. David was gone and she was left here with Esther and Wally Delaney. It was all so wrong, it shouldn’t have happened this way. Why did life have to be so cruel as to prevent her seeing him one last time before he went? ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, unable to look at Esther. ‘I need to be on my own for a while. Maybe you could come back . . .’
‘Why don’t you just go upstairs, dear? I’ll wait here in case you need anything,’ Esther said.
Feeling too worn down and distraught to argue, Penny nodded, and getting up from the chair she walked slowly out of the kitchen unable to think of anything beyond the way he must be feeling now.
An hour later Penny was curled up in a chair beside the roaring fire Esther Delaney had built in the sitting room, nursing a steaming mug of Lemsip and a handful of fresh tissues. She was calmer now, but her face was ravaged by the tears she had shed in the privacy of her room. She was still shaking, but not as badly as before, and having thrown up as violently as she had seemed, in some peculiar way, to have cleared her head. Or maybe it was the fact that the worst was now happening, that the terrible speculation and fear were at an end and knowing what she had to face had brought its own perverse sense of relief.
She looked up as Esther bustled into the room with a tray containing an ashtray, two glasses of red wine and the bottle she had poured it from.