An Ocean Apart (42 page)

Jasmine stood aside as David entered, dumbfounded at what she had just witnessed. It had been a scene of such gentleness and caring that she felt instantly ashamed for ever considering that there might have been any other motivation behind David's actions. Every movement that she had seen him make was as if it had been rehearsed many times before—from the way he knew how to shift Jennifer's body weight with little or no effort to how he wrapped her in the towel and tucked it neatly into its own folds.

“You've done this before, haven't you, David, my boy,” she said to herself as she watched him lower Jennifer's feet into the water. “Yessir, you sure done this before.”

“Is the temperature all right?” David asked.

Jennifer nodded, and he turned to Jasmine, still with an arm around her waist. “Can you manage from here?”

“Yup, I reckon so,” Jasmine said, coming forward and taking Jennifer's weight on her arm.

“Right, well, I'll just go downstairs and clean up that mess. Give me a call when you're finished and I'll come back up and get her into bed.”

Jasmine nodded slowly and watched him as he left the room. Then, turning to Jennifer, she removed the towel and gently lowered her into the bath.

*   *   *

The front doorbell rang fifteen minutes later, as David made his way down the stairs after having helped Jennifer back to her bed. He walked across the hall and opened the door, letting in a young man whose dishevelled appearance was indicative of the fact that he had obviously done more than his fair share of work that day.

“Sorry I couldn't be quicker. I was already out on a call when you phoned. So where's the patient?”

David pointed up the stairs. “Go right at the top and it's the second door on the left.”

The young man took off up the stairs, then turned back to David. “Has she been sick since you called?”

“Yeah, once at least. Jasmine would know better. She's up there with Mrs. Newman.”

The doctor nodded. “Good. Better to get it all out.” He turned and continued his way up the stairs.

David stood in the hall until he heard the bedroom door shut behind the doctor, then, thrusting his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, he walked through to the kitchen and put on the kettle. He shook his head. He needed more than a cup of coffee. A large whisky would be better. He made his way over to the refrigerator and took out a can of beer, then, walking to the table, he picked up the chair that he had knocked over and sat down, pulling off the ring of the can and taking a long drink.

A flood of emotion suddenly coursed through his mind. Never had anything that he had done over the past few months brought back such vivid memories of Rachel. No, that wasn't right. She was constantly right there at the surface of his thoughts, but until this time it had been the happy, carefree memories of her that had occupied his mind, never the bad ones. Now he began to remember the countless occasions on which he had comforted his wife, gently stroking the soft patchy bristle on her head, being all that remained of her shining brown hair, while she, contorted in pain, bent over the basin at the side of her bed. Once she had finished, he would lay her down carefully, wiping her face clean with a wash-cloth. Then her hand would feel for his, and he would hold it, carefully so as not to hurt its thin covering of flesh, and she would open up her eyes and they would sparkle at him, exactly the same way as when they had first met, all those years ago in Oxford. And they never lost their sparkle. Never, until the day that she—

He heard the door of the kitchen open and, giving his eyes a rub and clearing his throat to rid it of the lump that had formed in his gullet, he turned to look at Jasmine. She smiled at him and walked over to the kettle.

“It's just boiled,” he said, his voice still choked.

Jasmine looked at him and nodded and, taking a cup from the draining-board, she spooned instant coffee into it.

“How is she?” he asked.

“She'll be fine. The doctor gave her something to make her sleep. He reckons though that she'll have to get rid of it all herself. He doesn't know how long it will take. It can go on for some time, he says.”

She poured water into her cup, and walking over to the table, she pulled out a chair and sat down beside him.

“You all right?”

David nodded.

“You look as if you've seen a ghost.”

“No, I'm all right.”

“Reckon now I can't say much to her about what we were talking about.”

David sat back in his chair and shook his head. “No, I don't think so.”

For a moment, Jasmine was silent, turning her coffee-cup round in circles on the table. “Can I ask you somethin'?”

“Yeah?” he said, picking up his can of beer.

“Are you a doctor or a nurse or somethin'?”

David stopped and looked at her, the lip of the can pressed against his mouth. “What?”

Jasmine leaned forward on the table towards him, an intent expression on her face. “David, you knew what you were doing up there. You said as much yourself. I saw it all. You've done that before—many times, I'd say. How come?”

David continued to look at her.

“Are you married, David?”

He said nothing.

“Because you were about to say something about you and someone else when we were talking earlier, just before Jennifer came back. Are the two things tied up, David? Is that why you're lookin' like you do right now?”

He turned and stared out of the window into the darkness.

“David? Do you want to talk about it?” Jasmine asked quietly.

He looked back at her, then began in a faltering voice. “Yeah, I was married. For eighteen years, actually. That was until April.” He took a deep breath. “Rachel”—he paused and wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand—“had ovarian cancer. It was not detected till too late, and she underwent treatment for about six months. I nursed her the whole time—no one else—hence what you might call my expertise in the job. But she died in April.” He turned and looked out the window once more. “And that's it, really. Now you know the whole story of David Corstorphine.”

Jasmine sat with her hands clasped over her mouth. “Oh, Lordy, I didn't know, David. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…”

David shook his head. “No, you didn't do anything wrong. I was going to tell you sometime, but didn't really feel I was quite ready yet. Hadn't quite exorcized the ghosts of the past. That's really why I took this job—so that I could get away from it all. I didn't want to think, let alone talk, about it.”

“And here's me puttin' my big foot in it. Oh, I feel awful. I didn't mean to get that out of you.”

He smiled at her. “You know, Jasmine, you've been more help to me than anyone else. That's the truth. Both you and Benji. You've taken me at face value. You haven't once asked me about where I come from or what I've done. I really mean that, Jasmine, you couldn't have done more good for me. And as for Benji, well, just being with him has helped me realize just how much I've missed my own children.”

Jasmine let her hands fall with a thump to the table. She sat with her mouth wide open. “Children? You have children?” she asked incredulously.

David nodded. “Three. Sophie, Charlie and Harriet.”

“But where
are
they?”

“At school.”

“Yeah, I guessed that, but who's looking after them at nights?”

“They're at a boarding-school.”

“At a boarding-school? You mean they
live
in?”

David nodded.

“Do you mean to say that their mother died last April, and you have them at a boarding-school?” Jasmine exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief and slowly rising from her chair.

“Yes, but—”

“That is…” She paused, trying to think of the right word. “… unforgivable, David! How could you do that? I mean, how old is the youngest?”

“Nine.”

“
Nine?
But that's younger than Benji, David!
Nine?
”

“Listen, Jasmine, it may be difficult for you to understand this, but the children were all away at school before their mother was ill, and when the time came to choose whether to continue with their present school or find somewhere nearer home, it was the children themselves who chose to go back. You see, they have all their friends there; they're happy and secure; and for me, that is absolute. Even though
I
wanted them nearer home, I couldn't go against their wishes, because
that
would have been both cruel and self-indulgent.”

Jasmine stood eyeing him, her arms folded and her head on a tilt.

“That's as may be, but what I can't understand is how you've felt able to … gallivant around having fun with Benji when your own children are … locked up in some boarding-school.”

The remark hit a nerve, a painful one. He jumped up from his chair, banging his fist down on the table.

“That is neither fair nor true, Jasmine! I love my children, more than you can ever imagine! I have been in constant touch with them since I've been over here, and they with me. And if it's any of your business, I'm going back to Scotland at the beginning of next month, and we're all going off on holiday together. Anyway, I was only meant to be here for a couple of days, but then I realized that I couldn't go back, because…”

He slumped back down in his chair, his anger having worked its way deep into his mind to batter at the defences that had been hitherto holding so strong against his grief and sorrow.

“… because I found that I just couldn't cope without my wife.”

Fighting hard to control his emotions, he rubbed at his forehead with his fingertips, pressing them in hard to cause enough pain to act as a distraction. He took a deep breath. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to shout at you.”

He hadn't heard her walk round the table to stand beside him, but suddenly felt her hand resting on his shoulder.

“It's not you who should apologize. It's me. I'm too darned stupid to understand all that's gone on in your life. It's not for me to pass judgement on what you do and don't do. You know and understand your children much better than me, and I
know
that you love them better than I could ever imagine. I'm sorry. I should never have opened my big mouth.”

David sat up and took a deep breath. “No, your reaction was quite justifiable. It does sound pretty harsh when you hear it cold like that. Just shows up all too clearly our difference in culture. What is it you Americans say about us Brits? Keeping the animals at home and sending the children off to kennels?” He let out a short laugh. “I can't make excuses for it, Jasmine, but I think you know me well enough when I say that it
was
the best thing for them under the circumstances.”

She sighed and raised her eyebrows, then sat down heavily on her chair again. “Yeah, I guess so.” She paused. “It's just a pity we won't get to meet them. How old are they?”

“Sophie's coming up to sixteen, Charlie's twelve, and Harriet—well, you know how old she is.”

Jasmine nodded slowly. “Charlie's twelve. How about that? Pity we couldn't get him and Benji together.”

“Yeah, they'd hit it off pretty well, too. Both born enthusiasts. Problem is Charlie courts disaster wherever he goes. That's why I over-reacted so, the time that I found Benji lying at the bottom of the pool. It was really Charlie I saw there, you know.”

“For heaven's sakes, yes. God, you must have been scared some.”

David gave a brief shake of his head. “You can say that again!”

She smiled. “So where are you taking them on their vacation?”

“Don't know yet. I'll fix it up when I get back.”

She looked at him, her eyes bright. “I have an idea! Why don't you bring them out here?”

David gaped at her. “What?”

“Bring them out here to the States, to Leesport! I mean, why take them anywhere else? You know the place. You now have us and all your other friends over here. There's the sun and the sea, and the pool and the tennis here. Go on, David, it would be so much fun for them.”

He smiled at her and shook his head. “No, Jasmine, I think not.”

“Why not? Give me
one
good reason why not?”

“Because…”

“I know what you're going to say. Because no one knows about you and what's happened to you all, and you want to be able to guard your privacy. Is that it?”

“Well, in a word, yes.”

“Well, in that case, bang goes your argument, because I know. So what other excuse do you have?”

David shrugged and scratched at his head. “I don't know, Jasmine. Maybe it would be better if I just finished off out here and went back to start again.”

“No, it wouldn't,” she said, her tone so sharp that it made David start back in his chair. She picked up a pencil that happened to be lying on the table and began to roll it over and over in her fingers. “Listen, David, I'm goin' to tell you something. This house has never been filled with so much happiness and laughter than since you been around. We really want to keep you here as long as we possibly can.” She paused. “And I can tell you, that don't just go for me and Benji.”

He looked at her quizzically. “Meaning?”

“Meanin' that I was with Jennifer just after the doctor left. I gave her the sleeping-pill, but she kept tryin' to sit up. She was pretty delirious, but she kept asking me, ‘Where is he? Where is he?' over and over again. I said that I didn't rightly know, thinking that she meant Alex, but then she shook her head. ‘Where's David?' she asked. I said that it was all right, you were downstairs, and with that, she kinda slid back against her pillow and went to sleep—just like that—with a big smile spread across her face.” She let the pencil fall to the table. “The pill sure as hell couldn't have worked that fast!””