Nantucket (14 page)

Janis smiled.

But you're happy to bring her to Nantucket, Andrew said to himself. And then aloud: “The answer to your question regarding Cathy is ‘no.'”

“Is there a Shiva One?” said the Governor, politely shifting the discussion. “I mean, I assume you have a plane…”

“I do.”

“…but do you have to be in touch with your business empire at all times?”

“I don't have to, probably, but I feel I should. There is always something going wrong. I feel an obligation to know about it, even if fixing it will take time.”

“I have to know about everything,” said the Governor, looking at Janis, “but that's because I'm an elected official and some reporter will ask me about it. A fire in Roxbury. A snow storm in North Adams. If someone is killed I have to issue a statement. If five people are killed, I have to go there and be on television. If I look like I don't care, I'll have to answer to the voters. But you don't have to answer to anyone, Shiva. Most of your empire isn't even public.” George paused. “I suppose you have to answer to your family, though.”

“I have to answer to my conscience,” said the prince.

And tonight, you're going to deflower a virgin, Andrew said to himself. Which your wife has arranged. He looked at Janis. She looked back.

“Well, so do I,” said the Governor. “You run for office, you choose a political career, you accept limitations, you have responsibilities. But that's interesting what you said Joe said about partners. I suppose it would be quite nice to be able to hand off some of the burden, to share information and to share duties.”

“Sharing information I understand,” said Shiva. “I tell Rosemary everything. Well, almost everything. I spare her some of the details.” He paused. Through the door into the dining room, Judy had come into view with placemats and napkins.
“She claims to find business boring,” Shiva continued. “It is an English affectation – not unlike my being a vegetarian most of the time. But the burden of responsibility cannot be shared. It can only be laid aside completely.”

“That's what happens when I leave Massachusetts.”

“You can put your cares aside like that?”

“For a few days, I can. And I promise you, the Lieutenant Governor loves it. He prays for a snow storm in North Adams so he can be on television and have name recognition, which will make all the difference when I move on and he wants to run for Governor.”

“Are you planning to run for President?” said Shiva with a twinkle.

“The Governor hasn't decided,” said Janis.

“The Governor needs a drink,” said George. “There was a time when one could obtain a gin and tonic in this house.” He started to stand up, but Janis put a hand on his arm.

“I'll get it,” she said. As she herself stood up, Joe came down the stairs.

“Light on the gin,” said the Governor.

“Meaning none?” she said.

“Oh, a little,” he said. “It's a Saturday night,” he explained to the other men. “Then again, it's Saturday night. Good weather. A few beers. We could have a drowning.”

“Meaning you'd need to issue a statement?” said Shiva.

“Exactly.”

“Anyone else want a drink?” said Janis.

“Well, I don't
need
to issue a statement,” said Joe, “but I may.” He gestured towards the stairs with his head. “Normal strength, please,” he added. Andrew and Shiva both declined. Janis went into the kitchen.

“Nice girl,” said the Governor once she had disappeared. “Extremely competent – and in love with me, I fear.”

“You shouldn't have let her do that,” said Shiva.

“George has this problem,” said Andrew.

One does sometimes, Andrew reflected, have experiences with persons of the opposite sex that split one open as lightning can a tree. Rosemary had had that effect on Andrew. He hoped to survive. Venetia of the bathtub had left her mark. But this happened to George all the time. He was supposed to be a lady killer but, actually, what distinguished him was excess susceptibility.

Andrew knew this because they had discussed it in some detail shortly after two a.m. one winter night outside Quincy House. You have to be pretty drunk to stand around outdoors in Cambridge in January, so of course they achieved major insights about the nature of the universe and whether a girl named Andrea was a goddess or a manipulative bitch. George took the former view. He always did, until he got tired of the girl. Andrew never went out with girls like Andrea – never had the courage to pursue them – so he tended to be dismissive of them.

“Love complicates relationships,” Shiva was saying.

“Is that why you people do arranged marriages?” said Joe.

“No. But it gets things off on the right foot.”

“Not being in love?” said Joe.

“No expectations. Not knowing each other before the wedding. After that, of course, there are no guarantees. Sometimes one falls in love. It's not a matter of volition. That's why it's called ‘falling.'”

Watching Shiva watch Judy appear and disappear as she set the table, Andrew decided he couldn't tell whether Shiva
thought falling in love with someone was a blessing or a burden. He had no idea, really, what Rosemary and Shiva's marriage was like, beyond the reported shortage of “soft.” He just wanted it to evaporate. In that regard, he was as complicit in Judy's impending ravishment as anyone.

“Women fall in love with me who have never met me,” said the Governor. “They write me letters. I have to have someone screen my mail, so I can say I've never seen them.”

“Oh, I get letters,” said Joe. “And outrageous propositions. In a hotel elevator once – but it doesn't matter. It's the money that makes that happen.”

“Money and power,” said Shiva.

“Power even more than money, I suspect,” said the Governor.

“You know,” said Joe, “I'd actually prefer it if the girl said, ‘Look, I'll do my best to satisfy you, but I am primarily interested in you because you're rich. That will be a hundred million dollars, please.'”

Shiva laughed. “Is that your going rate?”

“Yeah,” said Joe, looking momentarily embarrassed.

“Well, I don't have a hundred million dollars,” said the Governor.

Nor do I, said Andrew to himself.

“All I can offer is a little slice of fame, a little piece of George. And the smart ones realise that I am taking a risk with my career, which counts as courage, which is also an aphrodisiac. Or I used to do that. I'm a good boy now.”

“He
is
going to run for President,” said Shiva, turning to Andrew.

They all laughed.

Venetia of the bathtub had looked out for Andrew all that
shooting party weekend. She explained the jokes. She stood beside him in a clearing in the woods as pheasants flew over them. She gave him enough instruction on the use of a shotgun that he was able to bring down a dozen of the birds – and told the hostess he was “a natural.” Best of all, she adopted a pensive manner that convinced everyone they were having wonderful sex, which gave him standing with the other men, which had presumably been his assignment. “That American you sent us did very well,” he could imagine important Francis telling the man who ran his firm's London office.

Pretending to be in love had been quite pleasant until the last night, when he started to cry. He had not intended to do that.

“Oh, my sweet American,” said Venetia. “What has happened to you?”

“I want to be unfaithful,” he stammered, “and I wish I didn't.”

“How perfectly awful,” she said. “Not wanting something you want. To quote my sainted mother, how did America manage to help us win the war? You couldn't even join the fight until Pearl Harbor.

“Pity you can't meet my mother. She might have sorted you out. She died when I was fourteen. In her world, sleeping with your best friend's husband was
expected
– like knowing how to ride.”

“Do you know how to ride?”

“No. When my mother got sick – but it's a long story.”

They lay in bed in silence, holding onto each other.

“I'm an American,” said Andrew, “as you noted. I believe love is serious.” It sounded impolite after he'd said it.

“So why are you in bed with me? We don't even know
each other.”

“You've been awfully nice to me,” he said.

Venetia was silent too for a few minutes. She stroked the back of his neck as he buried his head in a pillow and recovered his poise. “Of course it's serious,” she said finally. “The only way to survive is to make it a game.”

Just for a moment, it occurred to Andrew that Rosemary could be playing a game. She was English, after all. And Andrew was a sweet American. Not a confidence-inducing thought.

Janis returned with a tray of drinks. “This one's actually got gin in it,” she said, handing one of the glasses to Joe.

And to Andrew: “Cathy says if everyone's come down, it's time to start cooking the lobsters and the steak.”

“I'm here,” said Rosemary, coming into the living room.

“But what about Cynthia?” said Andrew.

“She'll be here when she gets here,” said Joe. “Time to execute some lobsters.”

“Let me help,” said George.

“I should make myself useful,” said Janis.

“Too many cooks,” said Andrew, not getting up.

“Yes, sit down,” said Shiva, who had made no move to stand up. “I want to know how you know Judy.”

“From working for the Governor,” she said, following Shiva's suggestion and sitting on the sofa. “I'd been in his office for two years and a bit when one day he asked would I mind sharing my office with someone. ‘A young woman with a lot of talent,' he said, ‘who could use an older sister.' She showed up the following Monday. She slept on my couch for a couple of weeks until she found her own apartment.”

“Nice of you to take her in,” said Shiva.

“She's easy to like,” said Janis. “Her move from Washington
was sort of thrust upon her. Her Justice called her in one day and said, essentially, ‘Here's what you're doing next.'”

“The Governor knows the Justice?” said Shiva.

“The Governor knows everyone.”

“Nice to be looked out for,” said Andrew.

“She deserves it,” said Janis.

“And who looks out for you, Janis?” said Shiva.

“I was raised to be self-reliant,” said Janis, standing up. “Excuse me, if you will. I've remembered that I need to find Judy.”

That left Andrew sitting in silence with Shiva, sipping their gin-less gin and tonics. “Nice girl,” said the Indian finally. “It's a shame George wants to be President.”

9

What happened next was shocking, but not entirely a surprise. Life could be like that, Andrew had found. The long rhythms of existence are always there. When Andrew saw Cynthia coming down the stairs ten minutes later, he knew there would be trouble.

She was dressed too well, for one thing. With jewellery. She was determined not to understand what sort of party it was. She stumbled on the second-last step. Andrew reckoned she was thinking about too many things at once. She had a distracted look to her face. Seeing Andrew, she covered it with her mask of innocence. “Have I made us late?” she asked.

“We had to start cooking without you, I'm afraid,” said Sally, coming in the door. “The fire wouldn't wait.”

“Watch out,” said Joe.

They were carrying in a bucket of lobsters and a platter of steak. Andrew was holding the screen door open. Cynthia had contrived to block their path. The Governor took her by the shoulders and moved her out of the way without comment. “Is there more for me to bring in?” George said to Sally.

“I think Janis has the last of the lobsters, but if you'd check,
that would be great. And make sure the fire is, you know, behaving itself.”

“The fire is fine,” said Joe, as he disappeared into the kitchen.

Andrew could see that Cynthia hadn't liked being moved out of the way. He would almost have said she hadn't liked being touched, even by a Governor, even by a political rock star, but his train of thought was interrupted by the sound of breaking glass, followed by Rosemary cursing and Judy telling her not to try to pick up the pieces. “Just back out carefully,” said the younger woman in a friendly voice. “You shouldn't try to clean up broken glass barefoot, I think.”

“No great loss,” Sally called out, presumably to Andrew but for Rosemary's benefit. “Three glasses, it looks like. We tried to put too much on the counter.”

Cynthia and Rosemary both retired to the living room, where Shiva and Andrew were sitting, but didn't speak. “Have you made a mess, my darling?” he said to his wife.

“I was trying to make room for the last two platters,” she said.

“Perhaps you should put on some shoes,” he said.

“Good idea,” she said.

Andrew followed her into the kitchen. He wondered if anyone saw her go through the pantry to the maid's room, rather than upstairs, to retrieve them. George brought in the last of the lobsters, for which Judy made room without further damage. “Everyone please fill up a plate and sit down,” said Sally, dishing out corn on the cob and sliced tomatoes. “Andrew, would you ask Shiva and Cynthia to come get some dinner?”

Four men and five women is tricky. If you want symmetry, you can put the hostess at the head of the table and go boy-girl-boy-girl
down each side. In theory, the hostess is in charge of any dinner table. Andrew thought maybe he didn't want to put Sally in that spot. Janis would look very good there, but he doubted she'd want the role. Part of her shtick was being invisible. Rosemary would look too good. Judy had too much on her mind. Princess Cynthia would probably like being head girl, but that would annoy Rosemary. Also, she hadn't come downstairs yet when Andrew was contemplating seating arrangements.