“Joe and Shiva – metaphorically, that is.”
“I told you you had potential.”
“You did?”
“Well, maybe I forgot to say it, but I thought it.” She kissed him – briefly but on the lips. “You’re a very smart man. You look shattered, by the way, but I can’t fix that right now. We’ll deal with that tonight. Go take a shower. I’ll wander in the garden for a while.”
8
When Andrew came out of the servant’s room after taking a shower and putting on the clean clothes Rosemary had laid out for him, the only person in evidence was Janis. She was sitting on a sofa in the living room, looking composed, still reading Moby Dick. It occurred to him that Janis was a lawyer. Rosemary had wanted a lawyer. It was possible they had a plan, even if he didn’t know what it was. Plans need to marinate sometimes, so he put the thought away, but he liked it that his brain was functioning.
He also liked it that shipwrecked Janis might have a role. Perhaps she was noble young Ferdinand and Andrew himself was Miranda. A little cross-dressing never bothered Shakespeare. Joe was turning into a very intelligent version of Caliban. What made him a monster was single-mindedness. Rosemary was Prospero, of course. Why “of course?” Why not Shiva, who so wanted the role? Not strong enough. Making magic required force of character, which Rosemary certainly had, whereas Shiva – Rosemary’s phrase – “liked soft.”
Invention always cheered Andrew up, even when his ideas were silly. He felt clever again, and therefore resilient. He had survived twenty years on Wall Street. He reckoned he could be assumed to have inner resources.
“Have you never read it before?” he said to Janis from across the room. “And would you like a drink yet?” Rosemary had told him to play host, and she was right in recognising that it would calm him. He’d done this perhaps a hundred times, had people for the weekend he needed to charm. The routine was reassuring.
“‘No’ to both questions,” said Janis brightly, looking up. “How about you? And have you heard from your wife?” she added quickly.
Andrew came over and sat down facing her. He hadn’t intended it, but the chair he had chosen gave him a view of the stairs, the doors onto the porch and through the archway into the dining room. If this were a murder mystery, he said to himself, I’d be perfectly positioned to collect evidence. And maybe it is, he added cheerfully.
Janis had somehow managed to find a shower. Her short red hair was still a bit damp. She was perfectly dressed for a Nantucket Saturday night, in leather sandals and a skirt and blouse, which she had somehow managed to iron. “Organised” was the word that came to mind. But “polite” was in there too. For Janis, Andrew suspected, nothing was ever someone else’s fault. She would always turn out to have the right clothes, find an iron without making a fuss, laugh at other people’s stories, never be late for dinner, and go to bed before the hostess started to yawn.
“No, Cathy hasn’t called. I’m sure she’s fine,” he said. “But as to Moby Dick, I read it thirty years ago. Strange book. If you do manage to finish it, you’ll be the first house guest we’ve ever had who has.”
“Strange, yes,” said Janis. “So far the narrator has spent a night in bed with a tattooed harpooner. But it’s too long to finish in a weekend, even if it rained and you did nothing but read.”
“You can take your copy home if you want,” said Andrew. “We have extras. And I am very glad it isn’t raining.”
“Too many people?” said Janis. “Too many sub-plots?”
“No, look, I’m delighted you’re here. I’m delighted George is here. I’ve known him forever, you know. We have plenty of room. I prefer a bigger group, actually. But speaking of room, have you and Judy been assigned beds yet? I haven’t been a very good host, I’m afraid.”
“Not to worry,” said Janis. “Cathy is an excellent hostess.” If Andrew needed Sally to be Cathy, Janis would cooperate. “I’m in the bunk room,” she added. “I seem to have it to myself. I’ve been given towels.”
“George has the big back bedroom, I assume?”
“As befits the Governor of the Commonwealth,” said Janis. She made a bit of a joke of it, but he realised she had regard for the office. “I’ll admit that I peeked in. Fabulous four-poster bed.”
“And Judy...?”
“Well, actually, I don’t know where she is,” said Janis. “Last time I saw her, Joe was carrying her upstairs and Rosemary was following with her suitcase.”
“What’s she like?” said Andrew. “Sorry. Bit of a non sequitur. Whole weekend feels like that.” He wished he could tell her everything – about his marriage, about the politics in his office – but that wouldn’t have been appropriate. Or smart. Or likely to impress a girl, for that matter.
“You met Judy at lunch, remember?” said Janis.
“Only briefly. She fell asleep pretty soon after she arrived.”
“I suppose she did,” said Janis. “She works too hard. I sometimes think she’s trying to impress the Governor, but that’s silly. She’s already impressed him or she wouldn’t have the job. Her CV impressed him. The recommendation of a Supreme Court Justice had to impress him.”
“How did you impress him?”
“I interview well.”
Andrew thought about that for a moment but Janis didn’t elaborate. “You’re good,” he said finally.
“I am,” she said without apology. “My mother said I’d make a fine mistress.”
Was Janis warning him off or encouraging him to make an advance? The conversation was an awkward mixture of disclosure and reticence. It felt like a first date where you couldn’t decide if the girl really liked you or was just being nice. With someone as nice as Janis, that would be particularly hard to tell.
Andrew elected to go back to the question of Judy. “The last time I saw your colleague, she was still asleep – on Shiva and Rosemary’s bed.” He paused. “You don’t suppose she’s still there, do you?”
“I keep reminding myself that I’m not her governess but I feel like I’m supposed to look out for her,” said Janis.
Judy came in through the door to the porch just as Janis completed this confession, which made Andrew laugh.
Janis laughed too. “This is starting to feel like one of those drawing-room comedies, with all the entrances and exits perfectly timed.”
“Oh, good,” said Judy. “I was hoping I’d find you.” She came over and sat down. “This is not a straight-forward situation, Janis,” she said without preliminary.
“Would you like privacy?” said Andrew.
“What for?” said Judy.
“It sounds like you wanted to talk to your friend.”
“Well, I do,” said Judy. “But I should be speaking to you as well, Andrew. It’s your house, after all, so I assume you make the rules.” She looked at Janis. “I’m supposed to call him ‘Andrew’, right?”
“Please do,” said Andrew. “But there are no rules.”
“Of course there are rules,” said Judy. “They just aren’t always transparent. That’s why there are lawyers. Lawyers give advice. Or technically, they sell advice. Anyway, I need some. You can bill me later.” She was no longer the sleepy girl who had arrived six hours earlier.
“I’m your host,” said Andrew. “It’s on the house.”
“Go on,” said Janis gently. Her affection for her small, intense colleague was manifest. It spoke well of her, Andrew thought.
“Apparently, I’m supposed to sleep with God.”
“Shiva,” said Andrew. Janis didn’t react.
“My clothes are all hung up in his closet,” said Judy. “My underwear is in the dresser in his room. My toothbrush is in his bathroom.”
“You’re not required to sleep with him,” said Janis. “But who would have unpacked your bag?”
“No idea. At least there were only clean clothes to unpack,” she said, giving Janis a sympathetic look.
“Well, pack them up again and come to the bunk room if you wan
t to,” said Janis. “Just because he’s rich and famous, doesn’t mean you have to share his bed.”
She looked at Andrew. “Correct,” he said.
“Oh, but I want to,” said Judy. “Share his bed, that is. I love that phrase. I makes me feel like I’m in a cheap novel.”
“You’re a grown-up,” said Janis. “Well, no, I’m not. We both know that, but my mother’s been dead for a while and it’s time I grew up, and he seems very nice.”
“And…?” said Janis.
“Well, the thing is, God’s wife seems to approve. That’s what I meant about the situation not being straight-forward. Or maybe I mean unconventional. I’ve just spent half an hour out in the garden talking to…what’s her name again?”
“Rosemary,” said Andrew. He’d forgotten about her being Prospero and arranging things. She was looking after Shiva’s sex life so she’d be free to look after Andrew.
“Bit strange,” said Judy, “but nice. And gorgeous. Just looking at her could make a person want to be a lesbian – which I’m not, by the way. That’s not why I want to sleep with God. I know I like boys. I just haven’t ever had one. Or one’s never had me, if that’s how it works. Anyway, gorgeous Rosemary said if Shiva – I suppose I should stop calling him God – if Shiva and I wanted to quote get to know each other better unquote – that’s how she put it – she’d have no objection. I guess she’s prepared to sleep in the bunkroom with you, Janis. She said Shiva’s had a vasectomy so there’s nothing to worry about. He has children by a previous wife, she said, and his family was already too complicated without his having any with her. I’m not sure she’s happy about that – not having children, I mean – but she was completely open about it. I guess that’s what being extremely rich does to you: you’re allowed to talk about anything. Everyone else is essentially a servant. She said Shiva’s really tired – not just from jet lag but from everything he has to cope with in business – and she says he obviously finds me restful. I don’t have any elbows, she said. I think that was it. She could tell by watching him when I went to sleep with my head in his lap. That was embarrassing, doing that, wasn’t it?”
“Not really,” said Andrew.
“So it looks like I’m about to have an adventure. Rosemary said if Shiva and I got along he’d probably take me to India. He has his own plane. Did you know he’s a prince? She said I’d probably get to see a tiger in his forest. I said I expected I’d be frightened. She said being frightened is not a good strategy. ‘All right, I won’t be’, I said.” She finally paused. “So what do you think? Will the Governor give me time off?”
Andrew watched Janis consider several answers and reject them, all the while smiling at her friend. “The short answer is ‘yes,’” she said finally.
“Will you speak to him for me?”
“The Governor?”
“Definitely the Governor. I don’t think you should speak to Shiva about this,” said Judy. “He might be embarrassed, though maybe princes don’t do embarrassed. Do you think he needs to speak to anyone to get time off? Rosemary said he badly needs time off, so maybe he doesn’t know who to ask. Maybe I should help set the table.” She stood up suddenly and went into the kitchen where Sally, who’d come downstairs as Judy was talking, was rattling glasses.
“That was simple,” said Andrew.
“She’s ready for an adventure,” said Janis. “I just hope she doesn’t get hurt too badly.”
“Can’t we hope she won’t get hurt at all?” said Andrew.
“That’s not how life works,” said Janis.
“You’re in love with the Governor, aren’t you?” said Andrew. It wasn’t a question, really. It wasn’t polite, either. He realised that as soon as he said it. Why was it a question he thought he needed to ask?
“I suppose it’s obvious,” said Janis, making no attempt to be offended.
“No,” said Andrew. “It isn’t. Your mother was right. You’re very discreet. But just for a moment, sadness was there in your voice – sadness being love’s companion. Sorry.”
“You say lovely things,” said Janis, leaning forward and touching his arm briefly. “But could we not talk about it?”
“Absolutely,” said Andrew. What other lovely things had he said? “Does Judy know Sally isn’t Cathy?” he added quickly, needing to change the subject.
“No, but I think I should tell her,” said Janis. “As you’ve just seen, she blurts things out when they occur to her, and she’s very observant, so there can be a lot of blurting. I’ll tell her there’s this mystery, and we’re not talking about it. She should be fine.” Janis paused. “But are you fine?”
“Could we not talk about it?” said Andrew. There wasn’t anything to say, actually.
“Absolutely,” said Janis. “And for the record, I’m not his mistress.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you were,” said Andrew. Subject closed.
It seemed to Andrew that she might have wanted to say something more, but they could both see the Governor coming down the stairs, which made that impossible. He was talking to someone over his shoulder as he did so. Then Shiva came into view. He’d said they’d met some years ago. They seemed to be getting along. “But you’re on duty 24/7 too, I assume,” the Indian was saying.
“Not like in the White House,” said the Governor, coming over to Andrew and Janis. “I mean, theoretically I have more power than the President, at least within the Commonwealth. Criminal law is mostly a state matter, for example. If a judge condemns someone, I can pardon them. Which makes me God, same as you. Or God to the criminal in question.” Both men laughed briefly as they sat down. Power agreed with them. “But if I leave Massachusetts – you know that Nantucket is part of Massachusetts, right? – if I leave, the Lieutenant Governor takes over. Of course, we don’t have a military. I don’t think the police count as such.”
Shiva looked at Janis for confirmation. “There is no Massachusetts One,” she said, which made all three men laugh. Janis was good at making men laugh.
“And there still isn’t word from Cathy One?” said the Governor, leaning towards Andrew and whispering. “Shiva knows,” he added.
“Joe told me,” said Shiva. “He said that quote, if we’re going to be partners, we have to share information. Interesting. I guess I’ve never had a partner.”
Andrew liked the sound of that – Rosemary’s not being Shiva’s partner.
“I share information with Janis,” said the Governor.
“But not everything,” she said.
“If I told you everything, you’d have to lie. This way you can tell people you don’t know the Governor’s position on the bill – or whatever. I’m just protecting your reputation.”
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 arrange
d. 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.”
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