Out of Such Darkness (11 page)

Jay’s driving back to Burford Lakes. He’s trying to reconstruct the events of his first meeting with Nathan Fothergill. When did they explain about the life insurance? Did he really not know he had arranged cover on the lives of both his senior partners?

Don’t question it; you’re a multi-millionaire. Pprrpff on being poor!

Doesn’t the money really belong to the widows Straub and DuCheyne? Did they know he would make so much out of their husbands’ deaths?

So you’re going to give them the money? I can see you selling that one to Rachel. See how love flies out the window …

If Jay had the cover on them, presumably they had similar policies on each other. That means each family has $1.5 million each plus death-in-service – a multiple of salary. The payout will be huge. Perhaps they don’t need his money. Should he ask them if it’s all right for him to keep it?

You think they’re going to turn down $1.5 million? The richer you are the greedier you get. You keep schtum. If you and Rachel can’t use the money there are plenty of other Straub, DuCheyne families who can. Widows and widowers with children to bring up. When they discover that you survived, you’ll be able to look them in the eye?

Why can’t he feel good? $3 million – what is it in sterling? Something like two million pounds! Plus his share of the business – that in itself is more than enough to cover the cost of going home.

Money money money money money money – that clinking clanking sound can make the world go round.

Two million is enough to do whatever he wants! He punches the air and becomes aware that he’s driving a car and he’s on the outskirts of Burford Lakes. He resumes control, steers it into a space by the green and takes the
Cabaret v
ideo from the glove compartment.

Going back so soon? Can
’
t we view it one more time?

As he crosses the road he recalls how vigorous he felt before the plane struck on the morning of 9/11. For the first time since then there’s a swagger in his step. He hopes Prentice will be on duty. Perhaps she’ll detect a multi-millionaire assurance when he presents himself at her desk.

So we go back to hubris? What is it they say about pride?

Prentice
is
there wearing a lavender twinset. She has put something of the same shade on her eyelids – a thin line that merges into the darker brown that sets off her blue eyes.

‘Why it’s Mr Halprin. How are you today?’ She gives a bob of her head that fails to dislodge a single fibre of her thickly sprayed mane. Her voice is softer.

He holds up the video and smiles. ‘I’m returning this.’

She takes it from him and for a split-second her long nails tease his palm. The contact sends a tingle to his shoulder.

She’s picked it up, Jay. You animal.

‘Let me see now.’ She studies the computer screen. ‘That’s fine. There’s nothing more to pay. Now, is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr Halprin?’

‘Jay.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Call me Jay.’

‘Very well.’ She’s looking straight into his eyes. ‘There’s nothing to pay, Jay.’ She puts her hand in front of her mouth chuckling at her accidental poetry. ‘Now, is there anything else I can help you with today?’ The intonation is exactly the same as before.

‘I still have the book – Christopher Isherwood.’

She consults the screen. ‘That’s right. You have it for another ten days so no hurry.’

‘There’s no point in renewing it?’

She shakes her head. ‘Not yet.’

‘Is there anything else from that period – Berlin … 1930’s – you would recommend?’

Her brow furrows. ‘Let me see …’ her fingers tap-dance across the keyboard ‘… no, nothing comes up here …’

‘There’s another book by Isherwood –
Christopher and his Kind
. Do you have it? ’

‘Let me see.’ She taps at speed, her eyes on the screen. ‘Mmm. No. Ah …’ She shakes her head. Her lips are doing that wriggling thing again. ‘No we
definately
don’t have it.’ It’s as if even to consider his request has somehow sullied her.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Do you by any chance know the content of this book, Jay?’

He shrugs. ‘It’s a memoir – about his time in Berlin.’

‘Well that may be. But the library trustees have entered a black mark against this book. It’s not suitable to order.’

‘Does it say why?’

‘Beg pardon?’ She’s stalling and a flush creeps up from the high neck of her sweater all the way to her ears.

‘On the screen – does it say why the book is banned?’

Her lips twist as if she’s attempting to tie them into a bow and her voice drops. ‘It mentions content of a homosexual nature.’

Jay shrugs. ‘It makes sense. He
was
gay.’

Prentice’s eyes are wide. ‘And they’re performing this gay man’s play at Jefferson High? My goodness!’

‘It’s a musical based on a play based on one of his books.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Never mind. If you can’t help me with any more books.’ He turns to leave.

‘There is one thing may suit you. I was cataloguing local-interest books a few days ago and we had something by an author who lived in Burford Lakes. He gifted some books to the library quite a number of years ago. Where was it?’ He follows her and Jay can’t resist the urge to watch the lilt of her hips as her heels click-clack on the parquet floor. There’s an open entrance to a small back room with a card over the lintel – ‘Local Interest’. The walls are solid with shelves leaving a small space in the middle. Jay is aware how close Prentice’s cashmere-clad breast is to his arm.

She moves to one of the shelves. ‘Let me see.’ She bends at the knee with her torso precariously upright. Her skirt is restricting her movement. Jay’s excited at the thought that, if he wasn’t there, she would probably hitch up her skirt and squat down.

Oh! This girl has talent. Imagine her in the line-up at the Kit Kat Club. What I could make of this lady. But here, in the 21st century, in Burford Lakes Library – such a waste.

She’s pointing. ‘See there, Jay –
Green House
something.’

He studies the spine of the book. The author’s name is Cameron Mortimer. It’s a name that he thinks he’s heard of but he can’t recollect where. He takes the book. ‘
The Green House Envelope
. Hmm.’ It’s a hardback subscription-club edition.

‘If I remember, it’s set in Berlin at the time you want.’

It’s not a diversion, Jay. It will speed up your process of discovery. Take it.

He turns the book to view the cover and jerks back at the sight of the film-poster style artwork that depicts a scene where a square-jawed man in a trilby hat and a trench coat is running alongside a steam locomotive. The front of the engine is decorated with a swastika. In the distance behind the running man a group of three black-uniformed soldiers are chasing him with Luger pistols outstretched. The book’s flame-tinted title flashes across the sky. ‘It doesn’t look like a book I would normally read.’

Take the book, Jay.

He opens it and reads the blurb on the inside cover. ‘It
is
Berlin and it’s 1930s …’

Prentice stands behind him close enough for her perfume to fill his nostrils.

You’re safe here in this little private room. All you have to do is turn and ‘stumble’ into her.

‘He’s a local author, like I said. Cameron Mortimer.’ Her hand snakes across in front of him and the invasion of his space is so acute that he feels the urge to step away. She’s turning the pages as he holds it. He wonders if it’s because he’s a lover of books that this is such an intimate move.

That soft pressure on your upper arm is her breast. Is this a green light?

A fog of lust obscures the words as he reads where her taloned hand is holding back the pages: ‘Cameron Mortimer was born in England in 1905. The first Dexter Parnes VC mystery “The Silvered-Eagle Device” was written while he was a student at Oxford University and was published in 1930. There are sixteen Dexter Parnes VC books and fourteen movies. Cameron Mortimer lives in New York State.’

She takes back her hand and steps away.

Forget about her and take the book.

Jay draws a deep breath and closes the cover. ‘I’ll take it.’

Rachel drives carefully so as to avoid the slippery strip-carpets of leaves along the margins of Route 22. They are in the Subaru heading north after their first Jewish service together. It hasn’t been as embarrassing as Jay thought it would be. They met up with the Edlers in the synagogue car park and Howard led them into the vestibule where they were greeted by Rabbi Zwyck. Jay was conscious that he was bare-headed but the rabbi was keen to put him at his ease. ‘We’re not stuffy, here, Jay. You and your family are welcome to observe your own ways until you decide to join our congregation. See how you feel. We have many gentiles come here for bar mitzvahs and the like and it would be silly of us to force them to do something alien.’

Jay detected a softening in Rachel’s rigid stance.

‘If you decide to join us you’ll have to take some classes before you’re accepted into the congregation. Ben, here, will have a bar mitzvah.’

‘Well, what do you think?’ Jay asks half-turning from the front passenger seat.

Ben leans forward. ‘It’s just like church really. Not scary? All that Jewish when they read from the scrolls, though.’

‘Hebrew.’

‘What?’

‘The language is Hebrew and the scrolls are the Torah – the holy book. It’s equivalent to the Bible – but the copies are treated with more reverence.’

‘Yeah. All that stuff?’ He sits back, puts on earphones and flicks on his music. They hear the tinny beat in the front of the car.

‘Your ears, Ben! Turn it down.’ Rachel twists round and signals.

‘What?’ He removes one of the ’phones.

‘Turn it down please, Ben. You’ll damage your ears.’

Ben makes an adjustment and reinserts the plug in his ear.

‘What did you think, Rache?’

‘It’s not for me but I’ll come with you if you think you’re going to stick at it. If you think it will help.’

Can being a
real
Jew help? He watches the bare trees pass by but doesn’t see them; his focus is internal. Why should he carry the burden of all those lives? Does this new God he’s learning about have a plan?

The MC appears over his shoulder.
Why don’t you let me worry about whether there’s a plan. If there’s a plan I’m the one who’s going to know.

Perhaps he should stop worrying about God’s plan and merely try to live a better life. A religious life – a Jew’s life. Uncle Hymie seemed to have the answer. Do something well and leave it behind. His religion gave
him
comfort.

Rachel interrupts his reverie. ‘Do you want Ben to have a bar mitzvah?’

‘What?’

‘Ben – do you want him to be Jewish – to have a bar mitzvah?’ Rachel says.

‘If he wants it.’

‘It can wait until we get back home though, can’t it?’

‘I suppose so, and let’s face it, we can afford to push the boat out.’

She turns away from the windscreen and looks at him. ‘Is that how you see us now, Jay? Are we a rich Jewish family who can put on a show? Are we going to become pillars of the community in somewhere like Golders Green? Keeping up with the Cohens?’

Jay scratches at his scalp. What is he trying to find? Will Rachel take them back to England before he has taken this religion thing as far as he can?

It’s not her call, Jay. You and me – it’s between us.

Jay recollects going home with the news that they were rich. Driven inside by the September rain, Rachel had been in the basement airing some washing.

‘Hi! How did it go?’

All the way home from the library he had contemplated how he would tell her about their good fortune. He wanted to sound like a general who had a great victory to announce but, at the same time, regretted the suffering his troops had endured. ‘Basically, SDC is being wound up. The company’s sound financially but there’s nobody to carry on. The business will be liquidated and we’ll get my 15%.’

Rachel was attaching washing to the makeshift line and spoke through a peg clamped between her lips. ‘Will it be much? How long will it take?’

‘Francois and Glen are dead!’ he said. Then feeling he had been too harsh too quickly, he held out a hand. ‘Come up here and I’ll tell you about it.’

She sighed, finished pegging up a shirt and trudged to the top of the stairs wiping her hands on the seat of her jeans. Jay felt the urge to hug her but thought about Prentice’s perfume. Nothing had happened but …

Jay guided Rachel to the blue settee. ‘Yep, Francois and Glen’s shares go to their beneficiaries whoever they are. Our share is worth up to $200,000. It’ll come through next year.’

‘How will we manage until then?’

‘Everybody gets paid for September and October and it’s enough to see us through to the end of the year.’

‘So we go home with nothing.’

‘Only if you call $200,000 nothing.’

‘It’s only what you’re due and we don’t get it for months. How can we manage until then?’

‘You’re forgetting the two month’s pay but it’s not going to be a worry anyway – because they reminded me about the life insurance.’

‘Life insurance?’

‘Exactly. I’d forgotten it too. Policies I took out on Glen and Francois so that I could buy their share of the partnership if one of them died.’

‘How much?’

He fought to keep the mask of indifference. ‘$3million. One-and-a-half million on each of them.’

She looked at him and he couldn’t stop the smile that infected the edges of his mouth.

‘Seriously? Three million? We get three million?’

‘Seriously – dollars.’

‘Yes!’ She threw herself at him and jitterbugged in his arms. ‘Three million!’

Now his grin was wide and unashamed.

She stepped away. ‘Right! We go home. Ben can start the new term back in the UK straight after Christmas. Promise?’

‘Promise.’

She returned to his embrace and there was comfort for him in the familiarity of her body engulfed in his arms.