by Anna Jacobs
She stared at herself in the mirror as she was getting ready. ‘You’re attracted to him, Jessica Lord, you silly fool!’ She spoke it aloud, to remind herself not to hope. ‘And he doesn’t fancy you in the slightest. Not even enough to kiss you goodnight or hold your hand.’
She grimaced at her reflection. ‘Well, make the most of what you have got, kiddo. It’s better than nothing. At least now you can say you know the great Jivan Childering. And you’ll have a photograph to remember this day by.’
The evening was low-key but enjoyable until one of Jivan’s fans recognised him. Jessica stepped back to let him deal with it. As the woman fawned all over him, she saw that rigid look come into his face, stripping it of all warmth, though he answered the fan’s silly questions patiently enough.
When the woman started making veiled suggestions that she was free to show him the sights of Melbourne the next day, with a little extra personal attention thrown in, he grew visibly angry and Jessica was afraid he was going to say something rude.
She decided to intervene, so stepped forward and took his arm. ‘Jivan, darling, isn’t it time to go now? You know we have a heavy schedule tomorrow.’
Once they were out of the bar, she let go of his arm and moved away from him. ‘I hope you didn’t mind. I thought you needed help.’
‘I did need it. Thank you.’ The words were clipped and sharp.
She giggled suddenly as something occurred to her. ‘I was trying to act like a femme fatale. How did I go?’
His smile softened and she could see the tension leave his shoulders. ‘You were perfect. An absolute charmer. I’m really grateful for your quick thinking and help in getting rid of her, Jessica.’
‘Does that sort of thing happen often?’
‘Yes. Far too often for my liking. Thanks to certain members of the press, some of my female readers think I’m a playboy and treat me accordingly. I could be knee deep in such women if I wanted to!’
His voice was burred with scorn and disgust. ‘I usually keep out of public view in Australia. Thank goodness I don’t live in Melbourne, or the paparazzi might find out and start chasing me.’
‘Well, I promise not to treat you as anything but good old Uncle Jivan for the rest of the evening,’ she said lightly, and felt his tension ebb still further.
‘How about tomorrow?’ he asked at the lift. ‘I’m free again if you are.’
She abandoned caution. ‘Sounds lovely. What shall we do?’
‘Leave that to me.’
He took her to the art gallery, which he said was not to be missed, and they spent an enthralling couple of hours looking at paintings by most of the famous Australian greats she’d ever heard of, and a good few European artists, too.
‘What’s Perth’s art gallery like?’ he asked as they left the building.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t visited it yet. I keep meaning to, but, well, Mike is keeping me too busy. And when he’s not cracking the whip at his staff, he’s socialising with people who might be useful to him one day, for which he sometimes needs a respectable woman by his side.’
‘But why—’ He broke off abruptly. ‘I beg your pardon. I have no right to ask that.’
She shrugged. ‘Why did I go out with him? I was in a new country and I was lonely.’ And, she couldn’t help thinking, I shall be even lonelier when I get back, after this golden interlude.
His hand rested on hers for a moment. ‘Don’t sell yourself short when you get back to Perth, Jessica. You can do better than this Mike fellow. You’re excellent company, intelligent and lively.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘Just because I’m not interested in forming relationships at the moment doesn’t mean that I don’t find you attractive.’ He ran a fingertip down her cheek and then leaned forward to press a very gentle kiss on her lips.
She could smell that faint spicy tang of his cologne. A strand of his hair had fallen forward and it tickled her face as he kissed her.
As he moved away, she swallowed to drive away the tears his kindness had brought to her eyes. Damn it, she would not cry for what she couldn’t have! To her relief, her voice wobbled only slightly as she said, ‘Well, thank you for that vote of confidence, Uncle Jivan!’
‘You’re welcome. Now, about this afternoon?’
‘I’ve heard they have good river cruises. Do you want to come on one? Don’t feel you have to.’
‘I’d love to come. I was reading the tourist brochures last night as well. There’s one where they give you a lesson in boomerang throwing. Bet I can throw mine further than you can!’
She chuckled, on safe ground again. ‘I don’t need to bet on it. You will. I’m the worst thrower and catcher in the whole world. Always have been. You’ll probably pretend you’re not with me when you see how bad I am.’
‘No one is that bad.’
Later on Jessica tried her hardest to throw the boomerang correctly, but both her shots ploughed it into the ground a short distance away from her feet, making everyone else on the tour laugh good-naturedly.
She watched enviously as their Aboriginal guide helped Jivan to hold the boomerang correctly. It spun right across the field. It had amazed her that you held it vertically to throw it. Her instinct would have been to hold it parallel to the ground.
‘See what I mean, Jivan?’ she said as they were walking back to the boat. ‘I’m the worst shot in the world.’
‘The very worst.’ He was still chuckling. Even the smallest child on the tour had thrown the boomerang further than she had.
All too soon their final evening together ended. This time, he did escort her up to her room. He looked into her eyes for a minute, then bent his head and kissed her gently on the cheek.
‘I’ve enjoyed your company very much, Jessica. If a promotion tour brings me to Perth, may I take you out to dinner again?’
‘That would be delightful.’ She was very proud that she had kept a smile on her face. She started to turn away. She would not cling to him!
‘You’ll need to give me your address, then.’
She swung back, startled. ‘You really meant it?’
‘Of course I did! I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.’
She could feel her face flaming. ‘Oh. Well, if you’ll come in for a minute, I’ll write my address down.’
He stayed near the doorway, making no attempt to come further inside or to touch her again, so she didn’t offer him a coffee.
‘Here. I’ve written down my work phone number as well.’
‘I live somewhere for a while, then move on, and I’ll be moving soon, so I won’t give you an address. But email me here and it’ll always get to me.’ He handed her a business card containing only an email address made up of numbers. He didn’t even write his name next to it.
That brought home to her how careful he always was not to leave traces of himself anywhere. It must be his ex-wife who had done this to him. How sad! He should be out in the world, enjoying the fruits of his success.
At the door he turned. ‘Keep up your writing, Jessica. You’ve deserved both prizes, you know.’
She forgot her personal worries for a moment. ‘It seems impossible that all this is happening to me. I still keep thinking I’m dreaming.’
‘This is the second time in five minutes you’ve not believed me,’ he said with mock severity.
‘Sorry. I’m not used to it all yet.’
‘Then get used to it. You’re going to be a very famous writer one day. And I will catch up with you when I visit Perth, truly I will. Goodnight, Jessica.’
This time she allowed herself to watch him walk away, but was relieved that he didn’t turn as he got into the lift and catch her standing in her doorway staring longingly after him.
He haunted her dreams that night, of course.
He was in them for many nights afterwards, too. And for weeks she had only to see a tall man with blue-black hair in a crowd for her heart to start beating faster.
Oh, she was a fool!
N
ine
In March an email arrived for Jessica with a brief note from Jivan and a digital copy of the photograph taken of them in period costume at Sovereign Hill attached.
She printed it out on photographic paper, bought a frame and put it on top of her television set. How happy the two of them looked!
And how unhappy she’d been since she returned. Work was a constant battle not to let Mike overload her, not to work weekends.
One evening she saw Jivan in a television interview from England on an arts programme. He was talking about his new book and this time, with a sympathetic interviewer, he came across well.
Her birthday came and went, unheralded except for a few cards and a present from her parents. Two days later, she attended an office party given to promote good corporate feeling – not that Mike really cared about such things, as they all knew, but he liked to go through the motions.
It was suggested very strongly that they all attend or she’d not have gone. During the evening, Jessica fended Mike off when he tried to suggest they get together again. As if she would ever consider it! She spent the rest of the evening sticking close to Barbara.
‘Very wise to detach from him,’ her friend and mentor said. ‘He’s a bad man.’
‘You should have warned me before.’
‘Yes, I should. Sorry.’
A week later Jessica came down with the ’flu, and although Mike shouted angrily at her down the phone when she rang to say she couldn’t get into work, she felt so ill she dragged herself to the doctor.
‘You look dreadful, Jessica. Take the whole week off and see me on Monday before you even think of going back.’ He leaned back in his chair and studied her. ‘I’d say you’re also suffering from stress. Am I right?’
She nodded.
‘Do you want this to turn into post-viral syndrome, which can debilitate a person for years?’ When she looked puzzled, he added, ‘Sometimes known as chronic fatigue syndrome or ME.’
She was aghast. ‘Have I got that?’
‘Not yet – well, I don’t think so.’ He frowned at her like a severe schoolmaster. ‘You might come down with it, though, if you don’t look after yourself better.’
‘I’ll take as much time off as you feel I should.’
‘Good.’
She felt only relief as she left his surgery. It was almost worth having ’flu to get a week away from the office.
But when she felt no better at the end of that week, she went back to see the doctor feeling seriously worried.
‘It gives me no satisfaction to say I told you so,’ he commented.
He signed her off for a further seven days, but refused to do it for longer. ‘I’m glad to hear that you’re resting. It’s the only thing to do with viruses. But I want to keep my eye on you. Is there something worrying you? Money? Boyfriend?’
She shook her head. It seemed ungrateful to complain about your job when so many people hadn’t got one. ‘Just been working too hard, I think.’
It was all she could do to stagger back to her car and drive home, and as she sagged against her front door, she was thankful she hadn’t had an accident while driving, so light-headed did she feel.
She knew it was cowardly, but she rang Barbara’s direct line at work and asked her to give Mike a message.
‘You must be really ill. I’m coming round to see you at lunchtime and no arguments about that, please.’
Her kindness reduced Jessica to tears, but she did need help, understood better now what her mother had told her about having family close to you.
About eleven in the morning the doorbell rang. Jessica, who had been dozing on the bed, stumbled along to answer it. Afraid it might be Mike, come to harass her, she peered out through the security peephole before she opened the door, gasping when she saw who it was.
Jivan!
Oh no! She’d forgotten he was coming to Perth. Why did he have to arrive when she was looking and feeling so awful?
She opened the door and stood blinking at the painful brightness of the autumn sunlight on her watery eyes. She tried to summon a smile, but it was a non-starter. ‘Hi, Jivan! I’m afraid I’ve got the ‘flu.’
‘Yes, your friend Barbara told me when I rang your work number.’
A wave of dizziness made everything swim round her and she had to clutch the doorframe to steady herself.
‘She also told me that you were run down. She’s really worried about you. Look, can I come in?’
She felt deeply embarrassed. Fancy leaving him standing on the doorstep! ‘Sorry. I’m not – not thinking very clearly at the moment. Aren’t you afraid of catching something?’ The room was still lurching round her and she put her hand on the wall to hold herself steady.
‘I rarely get ill.’ He pulled a bunch of flowers from behind his back. ‘I thought these might cheer you up.’
‘Oh, Jivan, thank you!’ Tears filled her eyes. She held the bunch awkwardly, wishing she could smell the flowers, but her nose was too stuffed up.
As she turned, she staggered and Jivan’s arm was suddenly there, supporting her.
‘Sit down and tell me where your vase is. I’ll put these in water for you, then perhaps I could get you something to drink.’
She leaned against him for a moment. His kindness was the final straw. She’d felt so alone and helpless lately, had wept several times. She couldn’t stop the tears now.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s just you being kind. Oh, damn! I can’t s-stop crying.’
He guided her to the couch and she sank down on it, closing her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t think properly.’
His voice was coming and going in the distance, and the words weren’t making sense. She realised he was kneeling beside her and made a huge effort to understand what he was saying.
‘Would you like me to make you a cup of coffee or something, Jessica?’
‘I don’t think I have any coffee left, or milk. I haven’t been able to get out to the shops for a few days.’
She gave in to temptation and let herself lie down, sighing with relief as he pushed a cushion under her aching head.
Jivan’s voice cut sharply through the grey mist. ‘Jessica, have you been to see a doctor?’
She blinked up at him. ‘What? Oh, yes. This morning. He said rest – said I was suffering from stress as well as a virus.’
‘And are you? Last time I saw you, you were hoping to take some leave without pay.’
‘Mike wouldn’t let me. And I don’t want to lose my job.’
She heard sounds of water running and opened her eyes to see a vase of flowers standing on the small table near her head. ‘Lovely,’ she said faintly, then let her eyes close again.
She heard the fridge door open and shut. Footsteps came closer. She felt Jivan’s presence beside her.
‘Jessica, there’s nothing in the fridge. Have you been eating?’
‘Not hungry.’
‘That’s no way to get better! Look, I’ll go to the shops and buy you a few things, light invalid food. Will you be all right till I return?’
She thought about sitting up but couldn’t be bothered to make the effort. ‘There’s no need to do that. I’ve got some stuff in the cupboard.’
‘Not much. I looked in there, too.’
‘I can’t ask you to – to—’
‘Who else is there to help you?’
She sniffed and swiped at her sore red nose. ‘Barbara would come if I asked.’
‘Why haven’t you asked, then?’
‘She’s got her own family to look after. And I don’t want to give her this ’flu. I don’t want to give you the ’flu, either.’
‘I’m staying, so you’ll have to put up with me. I’m going to call a taxi and go out to buy you some groceries. We’ll talk again when I come back.’
‘I haven’t got any money. I haven’t been able to get to a cash machine.’
‘You can pay me back another time. I know you’re not going to run
away.’
She opened her mouth to protest, but couldn’t summon up the energy. ‘Thanks.’
He spoke again, his voice echoing somewhere a million miles away from where she was lying. ‘Can you let me have a door key, Jessica, then I won’t have to wake you up if you’re asleep? I’ll just call for a taxi first.’
‘Key’s on the hook near the front door. Car key, too. Car’s parked outside. White Honda. Take that.’
‘OK. Where’s the nearest shopping centre?’
She felt as if she had a head full of grey wool, as if she had to poke each word through it. ‘End of street. Turn left. Can’t miss it.’
Before he set off, he put a pillow under her throbbing head instead of the cushion. She felt much more comfortable with the cool cotton pillowcase beneath her and let herself drift into sleep – just for a few minutes, just till he came back …
When she awoke, it was dusk. A lamp was glowing in the corner of the room and there was a savoury smell wafting across from the kitchen, which was in the short side of the L-shaped living area. She pushed herself up on one elbow and stared round. ‘Hello!’
Jivan appeared from the rear of the kitchen and she smiled at the sight of her frilly yellow apron tied round his middle.
‘How do you feel, Jessica?’
She considered this for a moment as she yawned. ‘A little better, I think. I’m sorry I crashed on you. I’ve been sleeping badly for the past week. Going out to see the doctor this morning exhausted me.’ She yawned again, a huge yawn that nearly cracked her face in two.
His voice was soft. ‘Go and have a quick wash, then I’ll bring you something to eat. Your friend Barbara phoned, but I told her I was looking after you, so she said she’d come round another day.’
‘Nice of her. Nice of you, too.’ Jessica couldn’t stop yawning. All she really wanted to do was go back to sleep.
It wasn’t until she was in the bathroom, staring at her flushed face and sore nose in the mirror that she realised how awful she looked. She cleaned her teeth and tied back her hair, but that was as much as she could manage. By the time she went back into the living room, she was feeling dizzy and distant again.
