Catch of the Year (18 page)

Betty glanced briefly across at her and said, “Hi.” She went back to riffling through a sheaf of papers.

Jade took the opportunity to remove her sunglasses. Reaching up, she lowered the sun visor and considered her reflection in the small mirror. It was not surprising she felt out of kilter. Somewhere along the way, her wig had been knocked askew. Surreptitiously, she straightened it.

Betty didn't seem to notice anything amiss. As always when she collected Jade to show her houses, which was usually once or twice a month, the realtor was dressed as if on her way to the annual business-awards function. Today she had on a beige linen suit that beautifully complemented her white hair, which she wore in a feathered cut. Diamond rings glittered as she handed Jade photocopied pages showing the photograph of the front of the house and providing details of price, taxes, accommodation measurements, how the place was heated (old-fashioned radiators), air-conditioning (none) and giving the address.

While Betty drove through small shady streets, Jade examined the pages carefully, profoundly thankful to have something to divert her thoughts and emotions.

The neighborhood had a reputation for being quiet, although the area was close to the downtown core. Jade thought it might suit her very well.

They soon drew up in front of a small bungalow that reminded her of a gingerbread house, as in Hansel and Gretel. A bay window took up nearly half of the façade.

“Before we go in,” Betty began, “you need to prepare yourself. This old chap's been living here for the past thirty years and hasn't done much in the way of maintenance, although the structure, I'm pretty sure, is sound. So, you're looking at some renovation and complete redecorating.” She peered at Jade over the top of her glasses. “You won't mind that, will you?”

Jade shook her head.

Betty went on. “You'll need a new kitchen and bathroom plus a complete paint job, possibly rewiring … . And of course, the good news is, because of the state the house is in, the price is not too bad. You're unlikely to get anything in this area for less than another fifty thousand dollars.”

Inside, the rooms appeared dark and tired. Worse, there was an unpleasant, stale smell. It would be easy to be put off, but Jade could see the potential. Despite all the anguish she'd experienced earlier, a bubble of optimism began to bob around inside her chest.

She didn't say much as Betty went through the rigmarole of conducting her through the main floor and the basement and pointing out features she could see for herself. Rather, she concentrated on getting a feel for the place, trying to imagine herself here, secure in her own small kingdom.

They explored the small yard at the back. The property abutted some kind of car park, but this was screened off by the hedge and the medium-sized spruce tree that stood in a back corner. There was enough space for a patch of lawn, a paved area she could see would easily accommodate a barbecue. Around the edge, she could make a flowerbed or two.

This was her big chance. Here she would have stability, security, predictability: four strong brick walls to shelter her. She could live forever in bourgeois comfort, and all her dreams could come true. All her waking ones, at any rate.

Betty waited expectantly for a few moments. At last she said, “Well?”

Jade stood in the middle of the lawn. Already she could imagine the small extension she could build to make an extra room at the back of the house and a bit of a deck she'd maybe create where she could sit outside on summer evenings such as this. She and Paul — No, Jade, that's over. Forget it.

“Betty, can we go through the house again?”

“Of course.”

The second wander through the rooms confirmed her first impressions.

“You were right,” she told the other woman. “This could suit me fine.”

“Great.” Betty's tone switched to businesslike instead of hyper-enthusiastic. “If you want to put in an offer straightaway, which I strongly advise you to do, we can go back to my office and prepare the paperwork.”

On the ride to the real estate office, Jade tried to assess the situation as realistically as possible. One thing worried her. Buying a house was a serious business and she was by no means in a normal state of mind. The bank had preapproved her mortgage, but nevertheless, she didn't want to get into something she'd later regret. On the other hand, that little house was indeed exactly the sort of dwelling she'd been hoping for, longing for, saving for, planning for. No, she couldn't, mustn't pass up the opportunity.

“Fine. Let's do it.”

• • •

“What's our strategy going to be?” Jade asked Betty once they'd settled themselves in her office and been provided with coffee.

“We'll put in a reasonable offer, not quite the asking price but not too much lower, as I don't think that would be wise. So, we tempt him to accept, but put a twenty-four-hour reply deadline on it to add a bit of pressure.”

“What's happening to the owner? Is he moving to a retirement community or something?”

“He's going to live with his daughter. I believe he had a mild stroke recently, so he's not that well. My sense is the family's anxious to get moving on this whole deal.”

Betty went through the paperwork with Jade. Jade began signing, but all at once, gripped by a sense of irrevocability, that by doing so she'd shut the door on other important possibilities, she stopped.

“No. I'm sorry.” She put down the pen. “This isn't right.”

“There's a mistake?” Betty looked bewildered.

“It's not that. The truth is, I'm not in a suitable state of mind to commit myself immediately.”

“You don't want to put in an offer? Jade, surely you don't want to miss this opportunity?”

Jade bit her lip, fighting back the tears. “I've … I've had an upsetting day today.” She sniffed. “To take this step — Well, I don't know if I can. What if I have second thoughts?”

“Hmm. Tell you what. Why don't we put a longer deadline on your offer? Then, if you find you change your mind, you can withdraw it.”

Jade thought about that. “It's true it's the kind of place I've been looking for.”

Betty didn't say anything, but Jade knew she must be remembering all the places they'd viewed together.

She took a breath, picked up the pen again, intending to sign. But all her instincts screamed “wait.” She put the pen down. If the place was meant to be hers, then there was no need to be pressured into making an immediate offer. Either way, she needed time to be sure.

“No. I'm sorry, Betty. I really appreciate your efforts, but I can't do this right now.”

For a second, Jade saw the disappointment behind Betty's professional mask. Then her usual expression slid back into place. Jade wondered if that was how she herself sometimes appeared to others.

Betty gathered up the papers. “It's up to you, of course,” she said in a neutral voice. “Give me a couple of minutes and I'll drive you back to the agency.”

Jade imagined going back in there after her less-than-dignified exit. She'd have to walk through the large open-plan office to reach her sanctuary. Any colleagues working overtime would look up from their work … .

She ran a hand over her wig, checking it was properly in place. “I'd rather you took me home, if it's okay with you.”

Sadly, going home wasn't a whole lot better than going back to work. Her basement apartment felt even more forlorn than usual, as if no one with any soul lived there. At least at the agency there were people about and not this empty vacuum. If or when that little house belonged to her, after she'd fixed it up and moved in, she'd get a cat.

A live creature to welcome her. That might take the sting out of living alone. Without Paul.

Uncaring as to where he was headed, Paul walked. And walked. Fury, disbelief, and anguish churned through him. Growing weary, he found a bench and sat down to rest, but soon his restless mind and emotions had him springing up and trudging on again.

His feet began to hurt, his muscles to ache. At long last, he was all walked out. He looked at his watch. Eight forty-five. Time to talk to someone. He hit his pocket, pulled out his cell phone, and pushed the numbers with his thumb.

“Hey Steve, let's go.”

“What's going on? Where are you, buddy?”

For the first time since storming out of the agency, Paul took conscious note of his surroundings. He stood on the sidewalk, looking up and down the deserted street. On one side was a row of brick, Victorian, linked houses, on the other, a small park. A large man leading a tiny dog emerged and headed away from him. The dog tugged at the lead, sniffed around a clump of weeds, and lifted its leg. No use trying to ask that guy. Paul's tired, abused feet would never tolerate his running after him.

“Somewhere. I'm not sure. I'll be able to tell when I get to the next intersection.”

“Okay,” Steve said, a note of hesitancy in his voice. “So where are we going?”

“I'll grab a cab and meet you at the pub.”

“Right. And Paul?”

“Yeah?”

“I have a feeling I know what this is all about.”

• • •

They arrived on the sidewalk outside the pub at almost the same moment. Steve slapped Paul on the back, and gripped his shoulder.

“Good to see you. Though I can't say you look so good. You gonna tell Uncle Steve all about it?”

His uncharacteristic wheedling tone made Paul chuckle in spite of himself. Steve hadn't been at home when Paul had arrived back and had been in meetings most of the day, so this was the first time they'd connected since Paul's return to the city.

Steve pushed open the door and walked in. The sweetish smell of beer pervaded the dim interior and they were greeted by the jolly sound of people relaxing after the first workday of the week.

“Beer? Or do you want something stronger? You look like you could use a shot in the arm.”

“Beer's fine.” Hands shoved deep in his pockets, lifting one tired foot after the other, Paul rolled his shoulders. “A shot in the arm's not going to help after the shot in the heart I've received.”

Steve nodded knowingly. “Look, you go take a seat out on the patio. I'll get the drinks.”

Paul settled himself at a small, wrought-iron table. Not long after, Steve came threading his way through the crowd toward him, clutching the beers plus a plate of sandwiches and fries. Bending his knees to keep everything balanced, he set down his load and pushed the food toward Paul.

“Something in the gut might make the world feel like a better place.”

“Yeah.” Paul rubbed a hand across his stomach, a little below his heart. “Got to do something to soothe the effect of the kick I just received.”

Steve grasped the handle of his half pint and lifted the glass mug. “You don't have to tell me. I found out all by myself.”

He took a long slug of beer.

“That I've been let go?” Paul asked. “How could you know?”

Steve's cheeks bulged with the liquid. His eyes rounded. For a moment Paul thought he was going to be showered with Sleeman's best. But his buddy managed to control himself in time.

“You've been let go? Shit. Man, I'm so sorry. Can't believe it. You'll line up something soon. I'm sure of it.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and said sadly, “Another good team split in two.”

“You'll find another partner. Better than me.” Paul lifted his mug in a token salute.

“Now you sound like Maryanne.”

Momentarily diverted from his troubles, Paul said, “Please don't say you were with her last night.”

“Yup. Mistake.” Steve picked up one half of a club sandwich and took a big bite. He chewed for a while, swallowed and said, “This morning she discovered her car wouldn't start, so first I had to help with that, then drive her out to Oakville. You can imagine how long that took. Made me late.”

Paul shook his head. “Steve, you are such a sucker.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“Why don't you get over it? Find someone else?” He took a chip from the generous pile and chewed on those ideas himself.

“I would if I could.”

“Why can't you? Haven't you met anyone else who's got what it takes?” Paul asked.

“Not met. But definitely seen.”

“Oh yeah?”

“This babe came into the agency one day. Must have been before you joined.” A gleam appeared in Steve's eyes. “Man, was she something.”

“So why didn't you hit on her?”

“I was so stunned I lost my mojo. Stood staring till it was too late.”

“What did she come into the agency for?”

“To see Jade.”

The name that signaled devastation to Paul. Somehow or other, he had to deal. “Okay.”

Steve nodded. “Afterward, I asked about her, but Jade wasn't giving.”

Paul stared into the golden depths of his beer mug, Steve's last words echoing inside him. Confession time.

“I'm not the one to talk or give advice.” He looked up at his buddy. “Truth is, I discovered something else totally awful today.”

“I know.” Steve nodded, finished chewing another chip, and licked his lips. “That Serendipity is Jade.”

Paul had just taken another swig of beer. He choked. “How on God's green earth did you ever figure that out?”

“Hey — ” Steve snitched a chip and waved it in the air “ — you're forgetting my extraordinary powers of observation and deduction.”

“Yeah yeah. I know all about those. That's why we work well together … . Ah, wait a minute.” He lowered his mug. “That's what you meant.”

“About what? When?”

“On the phone. When you said you had an idea what all this was about. I thought you'd heard I was let go.”