by Sharn Hutton
“It took a psychopath like McGinty to make me see what I had become: one of them, Jerry. I was playing for the wrong side.”
“I know this. You told me this already, Adam, but I don’t see…”
“She was the antidote, the opposite of them all. So much like Gracie that I thought I was dreaming to start with. Of course it was too good to be true. She’d never come back, not now.”
“Gracie? When did you see her?”
“I didn’t, Jerry.” Adam looked him straight in the eye, “It was Rachel.”
“Rachel? What do you mean? My Rachel?”
“She was so full of love. Physically so much like Gracie, it woke me up, stirred up the old feelings.”
Jerry clenched his jaw. He didn’t like where this was going. “You and Rachel?”
“I wanted it, Jerry, believe me I did. Felt like she had all the answers, but nothing ever happened, I swear.”
Jerry leaned forward in his seat. “You’re supposed to be my fucking friend.”
“I know, I know it’s bad. But you’re no bloody saint. All that pissing about with Isabell. She cried on my shoulder, Jerry. About you.”
That stung in Jerry’s throat, “I wasn’t doing anything with Isabell.”
“You were doing enough. And not enough for her.”
Jerry scowled into his face. “Don’t change the subject.”
“I wanted you to break up. I thought that if I gave you enough rope you’d do it yourself. I didn’t think you were bothered, Jerry. You haven’t been acting like someone who’s bothered. She wanted to be free from the pain, from the disappointment and I was going to set her free.” Adam laughed again, like he couldn’t believe what he was saying. “I thought that if I got you drunk enough you’d go off with another woman and that would be that.”
“You’re insane.”
“I know.”
They lapsed into silence and Adam was the first to speak.
“It didn’t work, of course, and when I could see that I got angry, frustrated. I lashed out at you, Jerry and I’m sorry. So sorry. I’ve been a madman.”
“You can say that again.”
“Yes.”
Jerry shook his head and got up from his seat. “I don’t know what to say.”
Adam sat up in the bed, straining on his wires. “After all that time, thinking I had it all, I hadn’t. I’d missed the point completely, Jerry. Turns out that success doesn’t mean a high flying career or money at all. I’ve been working at the wrong things all this time and you, you got it without even knowing. Bloody daft Jerry and his goofy ways got to the prize before me. A family and love. That’s all there is. I suppose I saw that too and I was jealous.”
“You, jealous of me? Really?” Team captain, legal eagle, good-looking, minted Adam: jealous of him. Adam nodded and added a shrug.
“God, you’re so fucked.”
“I know.” Adam snorted out an involuntary laugh.
Jerry picked at the seam of his hospital dressing gown. He appreciated the honesty, at last. “So what’s wrong with you, anyway?”
“Heart attack,” Adam said, tipping his head in resignation.
Jerry sucked in air through his teeth.
“It could have been worse, apparently.”
“So what state are you in?”
“They gave me an angiogram and an angioplasty. They put in a stent.”
“So much for Buzz Lightyear. I thought that you were Captain Fitness.”
“Yeah, that and Captain Stress. Bad diet, too much booze and a bender on coke tipped me over the edge.”
“Sounds like you’ve been having fun without me.”
“No. Not fun, no.”
They looked at each other and Jerry saw his old school pal, struggling with life, and the seconds ticked by as he accepted his weaknesses. People weren’t always what they seemed or even what they thought they were themselves. The man who had it all turned out to be desperate and lonely, and he, the wasting fuck-up, had secured the best prize of all. Jerry had more than he’d credited and that knowledge made him stronger, but he didn’t have it in his heart to bear a grudge.
Jerry crossed his arms and leaned back a little in the chair. “Doctor said when you can get out of here?”
“They said I need to stick around for a couple of days, but after that I can go home, all being well. Said I should look after my heart and take things slow.”
“I’d say that’s good advice, wouldn’t you? For every aspect of your life.”
EIGHTY-FIVE
ADAM STROLLED OUT OF FIRST CLASS and paused at the thin blue curtain holding back economy riff raff. “So long, Dinky!” he called out and snickered. Jerry jabbed him in the ribs. “Cut it out.”
“He can’t hear me,” Adam laughed, patting his friend on the shoulder.
“You saw his face in the departure lounge: he’s ready to kill me!”
“What again?”
Jerry gave him an eye roll.
“It wasn’t your fault. He brought it on himself. I mean, the man has no conscience.”
Jerry was giving him that look.
“What?” Hot guilt burnt at the tips of Adam’s ears. “I’ve said I’m sorry a thousand times. Besides, you’ve cleared him of all blame.”
“And you.”
“And I thank you. Seriously, Jerry, you don’t know how much it means to me—”
“Don’t start that again.” They tramped amiably toward the baggage hall. “Do you think he’s really got a deal at Mango Worldwide?”
“Maybe, but you’ve still got Mango Europe, haven’t you?”
“Maybe. Worldwide are a bigger division of course.” Jerry chewed on a fingernail.
“Firm it up with Ed and Oona as soon as you can. You did call them, didn’t you, Jerry?”
Jerry made further nibblings.
“Jerry?”
“I’ve been busy with my coma, remember? I’ll call them first thing.”
A small group of girls in their twenties stood at the adjacent baggage claim. The five of them wore matching pink T-shirts, but their subdued demeanour was at odds with the day-glo jersey. Jerry’s face contorted into revelation and he wagged an accusatory finger at Adam, “You invited a hen party to my bedroom!”
“No I didn’t.”
“Yes. Yes you did, I remember!”
“No, definitely didn’t.”
Adam was finally on solid ground there, but really didn’t want to get into it. Jerry wasn’t convinced.
The carousel shuddered into life, diverting Jerry on its rumbling empty circuit. He drifted toward it, joining the handful of other first class passengers who gathered closer, anticipating their luggage. Adam held back to watch his friend.
With his hands in his blue jean pockets, dark blue baseball cap on his head, Jerry stood straight and tall. He was focused, positive, rejuvenated somehow. It was as if four days in a coma had charged his batteries to their fullest, restored him. The hat hid the bandage and bald spot on the back of his head and dressings to the cuts on his hands were minimal now. Their fellow passengers had no idea who he was and he blended right in.
The first bag round was an oversized Louis Vuitton. Its owner, a smart woman in her fifties, moved forward to claim it, but Jerry swept in for her, lifting it onto her trolley. He didn’t linger on her thanks and served no agenda. He was self-assured, commanding. The action was courteous, suave even. Adam couldn’t have imagined Jerry moving with such feline grace before. He glanced up and caught Adam watching.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Adam shook his head and turned away to smile.
They gathered their bags and headed for customs side by side.
“Anything to declare, Jerry?”
“Ha. Plenty, but nothing for the customs men.”
Adam raised his eyebrows at him “Meaning…”
"Meaning I’ve seen the light, Adam. I've been a bloody idiot. Why did you have to point out the virtues of Rachel for me to get my prioritie
s straight? Why didn’t I realise what I was doing? I’ve let Princess Pain-in-the-Arse distract me and focused on all the wrong stuff."
"It's easy to do." Adam was still working on his own changes.
“I took the path of least resistance, you know?” he said, “I just went the way that was the least hassle. Not the right way. I thought I wanted adventures, but when it came to it, I just wanted to go home.” Jerry steered them down the green channel with a shrug.
Solid grey doors opened out into the arrivals hall. People crowded behind a hip height belt, craning to spot their loved ones. Adam ignored the people and searched for his name on a placard instead. Halfway down he found it, clutched by a bald man in a tight black suit. Adam acknowledged him with a wave. “Jerry, do you want to grab a bite to eat somewhere or just head straight for home? Jerry?”
Adam turned to find that he wasn’t sauntering along behind as expected, but twenty feet away, his bags abandoned on the floor. He had Rachel in his arms. Their solid embrace formed an immovable island around which the oncoming river of passengers flowed.
As Adam watched, Jerry lifted her face to his to wipe away a tear. He planted a kiss on her lips and Adam winced, but the constriction in his chest was bearable, easier than he’d thought this inevitable moment would be. He knew the connection he’d felt before was lost: she was Jerry’s wife and Jerry was his best friend. He wanted them to be happy.
“Take your case, sir?” The driver had come to Adam’s side. “Thanks.” Adam gave him half a smile and sunk his hands deep into his pockets to push away the emptiness. He thought to call out goodbye, but worried that the words might stick in his throat, that his voice might crack. Probably best to leave them to it, it looked like Jerry was in safe hands. He’d take the limo home alone.
EIGHTY-SIX
RACHEL EASED BOB’S ROVER TO THE CURB outside 37 Heath Terrace and said, “Do you want me to come around to help you out?” Jerry smiled back at her; relieved that she seemed to have missed him too. “I’m fine, really.” He climbed out easily enough and clunked the passenger door shut. Bob’s Rover was buffed to a showroom sheen and sparkled in the winter sun. Jerry wiped away his fingerprints. Good old Bob.
“Dad’s got to get off pretty sharpish, there’s a match.” Rachel bustled around to the boot to extract Jerry’s case. He swept around to meet her there and took the handle to carry it himself. He put his other arm around her waist and paused to look up at their home.
He eyed the front door’s flaking paint and dishevelled gate, not with his usual tired disdain, but with the enthusiasm of opportunity. Bob, who’d seen them arrive, opened the front door as they approached and scraped back the gate. “I’ll sort that out for you next weekend if you like,” he said, kissing his daughter on the cheek.
“No need, Bob. I’ll do it,” Jerry chirped.
“Er, hello, Jerry. How are you feeling?” said Bob, surreptitiously examining the dressing on Jerry’s head.
Jerry laughed. “Head’s a bit sore, but I’m OK.” He strode past the bewildered Bob and into his house. “Where’s Peanut?” he called from the kitchen, then doubled back to follow Rachel into the lounge.
Rachel settled onto a floor cushion beside a cheery play mat where their smiling child held Bilbo Bunny by one ear and gummed upon the other.
“I think you mean Elaina,” Rachel said with a hopeful smile, “It means torch or bright light. I think in the end, she showed me the way.”
Jerry looked down on the happy scene with déjà vu. Dim memories buzzed in and out of focus.
“Do you like it?” Rachel asked, uncertain suddenly, hopeful.
Jerry stopped trying to remember the memory that eluded him. How could he fail to like it? This room was filled with love and happiness and potential. He crossed it in two eager strides, settling into the armchair at her side. It felt solid and dependable. Jerry wasn’t quite sure why that would be in question.
“Hello, Elaina!” he tickled at her chin. She chuckled back. “How’s my little girl? How is daddy’s little star, Elaina?” He threw a sideways glance to Rachel, now beaming up at him.
He scooped their gurgling child up to his lap. Elaina discarded Bilbo in favour of Jerry’s soft cotton T-shirt. Pudgy fingers grasped a handful and pulled it in toward her mouth, then took one of Jerry’s fingers with her whole hand and squeezed it tight. Jerry’s heart swelled with love. So much had changed. “Look at you! Look at her, Rach. I can’t believe how different she is.”
“I know. She’s amazing.” Rachel scooped up Bilbo and sat him next to Jerry on the chair.
He had nothing to add.
EIGHTY-SEVEN
THEIR BEDROOM WAS SMALL COMPARED TO THE VEGAS SUITE. It had none of the sleek walnut furniture, no flat screen TV nor showy decor. Rachel had decorated in muted tones of grey and dirty pastel. The furniture had all been painted, knocked and painted again. Soft furnishings were all homemade, with love. Jerry didn’t know if she’d adopted the shabby style out of choice or practicality, but it suited him perfectly, just like her.
He lay content on feather pillows, Rachel nestled in beside him. Her skin was smooth and warm beneath his fingertips. She traced an imaginary line down Jerry’s arm, joining the dots of his moles together. At his hand she slipped her fingers between his and squeezed, careful not to disturb the dressings on his palm. Jerry kissed her softly on the forehead and she turned her face to his.
“I love you,” she said. The words he’d waited to hear.
“I love you too.” With a gentle sweep he pulled her across his body, aligning her mouth with his. He kissed her again, on the lips this time and she responded. Her caress made his head spin.
Grandma Ray’s clock ticked out in the hall. Jerry followed its soothing rhythm until his body found its own. In unison they remembered what it was to be together and made silent vows to never let the distance grow between them again. The clock ticked on, though time ceased to matter. Ultimately it was Elaina that brought them back into the present.
“I’ll go,” said Jerry, stretching out from their contented knot.
“No, I’ll go. You stay here. You’re supposed to be recuperating.” Rachel slid out of his arms and into her robe. Beyond his view he heard her greet their child. He imagined her scooping her out of the cot. A room away, Peanut’s cry changed, subdued already. Elaina, he corrected himself. Elaina, Elaina; he liked it.
A half hour later he found his girls in the kitchen. Rachel clutching a tea cup in one hand and shovelling mashed banana with the other. “You’re dressed,” she said, surprised.
“Yeah, I ought to go into the office for a bit.”
“Jerry. No. They can live without you.” Her face was serious and scolding.
“I know. They could, but there are some things I have to do.” Spink’s snarl at the airport was not easily forgotten. He still had to try to beat him, as ominous as that was.
Rachel looked up at him, disappointment tugging at the corners of her mouth.
“You remember why I went to Vegas? The redundancies are still looming. I don’t want to leave you and I definitely don’t want to see Spink, but I have to do my best to beat him. I want this job. I want a better life for us. I can’t let it slide now, can I?”
Rachel shrugged. “I guess not. I was just hoping to keep you to myself for a bit longer.” She put down her cup and reached out to him. Jerry took her hand and kissed it. “My lady,” he said in deep voice, “I must away. Elaina, look after Mummy until I return.” He ruffled her downy hair.
As he sat outside in the Fiat, the enormity of the situation seeped back into him. Despite all the drama, Jerry hadn’t actually accomplished an awful lot at TEKCOM. A tentative though positive link with Ed and Oona at Mango Europe was all he’d managed and he hadn’t followed that up. He routed out Ed’s business card and chewed on his lip.
He might not even remember him. What if they’d just had too much to drink and got carried away on the alcoholic wave? Without them he couldn’t even make
up the deficit between Spink’s revenue and his, let alone top whatever else Spink had pulled off on their trip. He took a deep breath and dialled the number.
“Ed Baker.”
“Ed, hi. It’s Jerry, Jerry Adler.” His voice wobbled.
“Jerry! Bloody hell—so you are alive then!”
“Ha! Yes!” So Ed knew.
“Are you OK? Oona and I couldn’t believe it when we saw you’d gone missing. All that stuff with the kooky detective on TV. We came back a couple of days ago and you were still M.I.A. then. What happened?”
“The detective, yeah, he got a bit carried away!”
“I’ll say. So…?”
Ed was pressing for information and Jerry squirmed in his seat, sweating.
“It was an accident. Too many drinks and I managed to bash my head in, slipping in the bathroom.”
“Ow!”
“Yeah, pretty bad actually. I was unconscious in hospital for four days with no ID on me. They didn’t know who I was.”
“I guess they got overloaded with the Monte Carlo. So the other guy, from work…”
“Oh. No! God no! Brrrrr.” Jerry shook a twitch out through his shoulders. “Didn’t see him. He must have been in my room earlier, when I was out.”
“That guy sounds like a nut.”
“Yeah.”
“Yeah.”
Jerry took a deep breath and ploughed on. “So, it was great meeting you and Oona. I was wondering if you’d like to talk shop some time? It would be so good for me to work with Mango.”
Silence hung and Jerry held his breath. “Ed?”
“Are you working Jerry?”
