An Ocean Apart

by Robin Pilcher

  Chapter THIRTY-SIX

  The wind and rain drove hard against the windows of the offices of Culpepper Rowan, causing the water to run in diagonal streaks across the tinted glass before settling in the sheltered crevices at the side. Jennifer stood with her arms crossed and her head resting against the cold pane as she gazed vacantly down onto the traffic far below on Fifth Avenue. It was only three in the afternoon, but the sky was so heavy with dark, scudding clouds that the cars were already driving with their headlights on. It all looked so depressing. Thank God it was only two weeks to the beginning of May, and then everything would hopefully transform to sunshine and warmth. Summer would be here.

  But there again, it would be only the weather that would change. Not her life. As far as that was concerned, it might just as well be winter all the time—cold, colourless and dismal. It had been that way since November, when Alex had eventually left, and even before that, the effort of trying to work things out with him had been more stressful to deal with than his subsequent departure.

  She turned from the window and went over to her desk and, slumping down in her chair, she reached forward and scrolled through the page on her laptop. She laughed scathingly to herself. THE page! That was all she had written. She was supposed to have finished the damned proposal by that evening, but every ounce of creative adrenaline had deserted her. It was as if her brain were swimming in syrup.

  She guided the arrow up to the “save” option, then shut down her computer, gently closing the lid and sitting back in her chair. She just couldn’t concentrate any more. And it seemed to be getting worse.

  She pushed her chair away from the desk and stood up, and as she made her way back to the window, there was a brief knock on her door and Sam entered. “Hi!” he said, clapping his hands together. “Just wanted to find out how you were doing on the proposal.”

  Jennifer glanced at him, then turned away to look out of the window.

  “Not good, huh?” he said morosely.

  Jennifer shook her head.

  “Well, tell you what, I’ll get Russ to have a look at it. I think we should try to get something faxed to them by this evening.” He walked over to her desk and picked up her telephone. “Yeah, Russ, it’s Sam. Could you come to Jennifer’s office? Thanks.”

  He replaced the receiver and came over to stand beside Jennifer, leaning his back against the window and pushing his hands into his pockets.

  “You’re not feeling too good, are you?”

  “I’m sorry, Sam. I haven’t been much use to you over the past six months, have I?”

  Sam reached out and took hold of her arm. “Come on, you’ve said that before. You’ve done just fine. Things have been pretty difficult for you, and I can live with that. You’ll get back into the swing of things soon enough.”

  Jennifer was silent for a moment, as she continued to stare out of the window. “No, I don’t think so. I’m burned out. I have nothing really to offer you any more. I am beginning to think that it would be better if I just quietly packed up my things and left the company. You can’t afford to subsidize my existence here. Anyway, I think that the time has come for me to get my priorities right.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning that I really want to spend more time with Benji and Jasmine at home. I think that’s where I am needed the most right now.”

  Sam let out a long hiss. “Yeah, I suppose I can understand that, but I really don’t want you to go.” He paused, rubbing at the toe of his shoe with the heel of the other. “I don’t, er, suppose you ever heard from Alex again?”

  “No. Not directly, anyway. I had a letter from a lawyer in Dallas two days ago, saying that he was going to be representing him in the divorce proceedings.”

  Sam blew out disparagingly and shook his head. “Christ! What a bastard he turned out to be!”

  Jennifer smiled sadly. “Well, he wasn’t at one time, Sam,” she said quietly.

  “I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  At that moment, the door flew open and Russ walked in, laughing at a remark that someone had said to him in passing outside the office. “Yeah, Sam, what can I do for—?”

  Sam held a finger to his lips to stop him from continuing. He turned to Jennifer. “Listen, I understand your reasons for wanting to leave the company, but I wonder if you might consider just holding fire for a time.”

  Jennifer looked at him. “For what reason?”

  The expression on Sam’s face suddenly transformed into a huge grin. “Because—I have just had a phone call from Gladwin Vintners. It seems that they have been so impressed with the way we’ve handled the Tarvy’s account that they want us to take on the marketing of Glentochry Blend Whisky and Valischka Vodka over here.”

  There was a loud whoop from Russ and, stepping forward, he held his hand up in the air and slapped it down on Sam’s outstretched palm.

  “Goddamn it, Sam, you old son of a gun! You were right! You were absolutely right!”

  “Well, I told you we could do it! I knew it was only a matter of time!” He turned to Jennifer. “And that’s why I don’t want you to go just yet. They have specifically asked for you to handle it.”

  Jennifer smiled at him, and shook her head. “You know, that’s very sweet of you, Sam, and I really am delighted that you’ve got it, but I’m simply not fired up any more, and I don’t want you to risk losing it because of that. Anyway, I don’t think that I want to change my mind. You boys can handle it well enough.”

  Sam let out a groan of frustrated disappointment, then paused for a moment.

  “Okay. How about this for an option? Gladwin’s want us to fly over to London to meet with them and discuss the schedule. We don’t have to produce a document. We don’t have to produce anything, just show up for the meeting. Now, I really want you to come over with me, Jennifer, and I also would like you to bring Benji.” He threw his hands up in a devil-may-care gesture. “Hell, I want you to bring Jasmine as well! Let’s all go over! We’ll stay at the Ritz, because I think that we damned well deserve it, and once we’ve had the meeting, then you can decide if you want to leave the company. Now, would you consider doing that?”

  Jennifer looked at Sam for a moment, then suddenly seemed amused. “Sorry, Sam, I just had this wonderful image of Jasmine being waited on at the Ritz.”

  “Well, why the hell not?” Sam said, holding out his hands. “She’s been through the mill as much as any of you. Come on, Jennifer, please, you’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”

  Jennifer contemplated the suggestion. “I’d have to get Benji off school.”

  “Do it!” Sam exclaimed, rubbing his hands together as he realized that he was making some headway with his persuasion. “Come on! It would be great for all of us. And as I said, you can make up your mind one way or the other after the meeting.”

  “Okay.”

  Sam slapped his fist into the palm of his hand in triumph.

  “But,” Jennifer continued, “I couldn’t go right away. I mean, I’d have to clear it with Benji and Jasmine first, and with Benji’s principal at school.”

  “Yeah, that’s no bother. We wouldn’t need to go until the beginning of next week. That leaves you three days clear before the weekend.” He paused and looked intently into her face. “So we have a definite yes?”

  Jennifer smiled at him. “Yes.”

  “Great!” Sam cried out, pushing himself away from the window. “I’ll go fix that up with Gladwin’s, and book the flights and the rooms at the Ritz.” He took hold of Russ’s arm as he walked past him. “Russ, would you be good enough to get a copy of that proposal Jennifer’s working on, and get something off to the client tonight? Doesn’t have to be anything too great. We can stall them for a couple of days.”

  Russ nodded. “Okay.”

  “Good.” He turned round to Jennifer and gave her a wink. “So, London, here we come!” And giving a little skip, he walked over to the door and left the office.

  As the
door shut, Jennifer made her way over to her desk and, pushing open the lid of her computer, she turned on the switch. “I’m sorry to load this onto you, Russ. I just couldn’t get it going at all.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll put something together for them for tonight. Don’t forget, I’m a bit of a genius too!”

  Jennifer pushed a floppy disc into the computer and transferred the document across. Then, ejecting the disc, she handed it over to Russ. He stood holding it in his hand, and knocking it nonchalantly against the tips of his fingers.

  “How’s, er, Benji doing—you know—without Alex around?”

  Jennifer let out a long sigh. “Not good. He’s really taken it all so hard. In fact, he hasn’t really been the same since … well…”

  “Since David left?”

  Jennifer looked startled, then smiled. “My, that’s pretty intuitive of you, Russ! Yeah. Since David left. He hero-worshipped him, really.”

  “Have you ever heard from him?”

  Jennifer closed down her computer and shut the lid.

  “No. Not since the week after he left. He called to say that they had arrived back in Scotland. His father died the day he got back. I haven’t heard anything since then. Benji got a bunch of cards and a couple of letters, though, from Charlie, his son.”

  Russ continued to tap the disc against his fingers. “Listen—maybe I shouldn’t say this, but—well—Benji wasn’t the only one who kinda liked him, was he?”

  Jennifer felt a flush come to her cheeks and she shook her head slowly.

  “God, Russ, you’ve softened some! A year ago, I’d have quite happily laid down a hundred dollars against you noticing anything like that!” She paused as she walked over to the window. “But you’re right. I think I can honestly say that he was the most special man I’ve ever met in my life.”

  There was a moment’s silence.

  “Yeah. He was some guy, wasn’t he?”

  Jennifer turned and looked at him. “How come you say that? You only met him once.”

  “Once was enough.” He paused. “You remember that tennis match?”

  Jennifer nodded.

  “Well, it just happened that the following week, I went to watch a demonstration match at Flushing Meadows. It was really all put on for the crowds—a mixture of good tennis and good humour. Anyway, in the second set, the better of the two players obviously wanted to make it one set all, so that they could take the match to the third set—and he did it by making his serves and ground strokes go inches over the lines. Okay, so it was planned—but it was so imperceptible that I am sure that most of the spectators didn’t realize that it was happening. But I knew, because David had done exactly the same thing to me the previous weekend.”

  He walked over to stand beside Jennifer and began fiddling with the cord of the window blind. “God, I can tell you that it fairly dented my pride. And then I thought to myself, well, hell, what about David? It never made any difference to him whether he won or lost. And then I realized that he hadn’t minded humbling himself, because it was all above him, and in that way, he was above me. What was more, he made me understand that without actually having to show me up.”

  He let go of the cord and looked across at Jennifer, who was standing smiling at him. She walked towards him, and reaching up, gave him a kiss on the cheek.

  “He touched everyone, Russ, one way or the other. I know that it sounds like a cliché out of a Superhero Comic, but sometimes I just wonder why, of all the millions of front doors stretched across the States, he came to knock on mine.” She reached down and unplugged her laptop from the wall socket, then, curling up the cord, she walked back to her desk. “I mean, think of it, if it hadn’t been for him, we wouldn’t be planning this trip to London!”

  Russ watched her as she opened up her brief-case and slid in the laptop.

  “Why don’t you go to Scotland?”

  Jennifer glanced up at him. “What?”

  “Why don’t you go up and see him?” He walked across to her desk and leaned forward on it, looking directly into her face. “Go on, do it! If you want an excuse, say that Benji wants to see him. Just don’t let him go!”

  She paused for a moment, then smiled and shook her head. “No, Russ. I can’t. I don’t know what his life is like. I mean, everything would be completely different. It was just a moment in time, a very happy and unforgettable moment in time.”

  Russ looked down at the disc that he still held in his hand. “Yeah, maybe. Suppose it’s just me being too impulsive. But listen, I’m coming over to London with you, so if you do happen to change your mind, you go and I’ll cover for you. Is that a deal?”

  Jennifer zipped up her case and nodded. “Yeah, that’s a deal, Russ—but I won’t be changing my mind.”

  He pushed himself off the desk and walked towards the door. “Oh, I don’t know. There’s a good few front doors in the UK as well. Maybe fate will take you to his.” He turned and smiled at her, and held up the disc. “Anyway, I’d better get going on this.”

  “Russ?”

  He stopped with his hand on the door handle.

  “Thanks.”

  Russ flicked his hand dismissively at her and walked out of the office.

  Jennifer dialled the number of the house in Leesport.

  “Jasmine? Hi, it’s Jennifer … listen, this might come as a bit of a shock to you, but we’ve got to get you a passport by next week.”

  Chapter THIRTY-SEVEN

  Narrowing his eyes against the glare of the morning sun, the tall blue-coated doorman at the Ritz moved as agilely as a ballroom dancer around the portly female frame that tried to back out of the newly arrived taxi, finding himself in a quandary as to how best he could be of assistance to the woman without causing obvious affront. He skipped lightly around to her other side and held hard to the hand that was scrabbling blindly for support, and once she had extricated herself, Jasmine turned to him with a beaming smile on her face and blew out a sigh of relief.

  “Thank you kindly, sir. Those taxis sure seem to be a lot easier to get in than out.”

  “Yes, they can be a little awkward, madam,” the doorman replied with a diplomatic smile, and briefly touching the brim of his top hat, he glided around to hold the cab door open for the other four occupants.

  As they climbed the steps and entered through the revolving doors of the hotel, Jennifer heard Jasmine gasp audibly as she stared in open-mouthed wonderment at the sumptuous interior of the reception area. “Now, this is what I call high-livin’!”

  Jennifer laughed. “Well, don’t start getting any big ideas about what we could do with the house in Leesport.” She opened her handbag and took out their passports. “Could you just keep an eye on Benji, Jasmine, just in case he heads off on one of his exploration jaunts.” She walked over to the reception desk, where Sam and Russ were already booking in.

  “So if you could please just fill this in, Mr. Culpepper,” the pretty young receptionist was saying brightly, as she handed Sam a registration form. “And this is for Mr. Hogan … and this for Mrs. and Master Newman … and you have a Miss Washington with you?”

  “I’ll do that,” Jennifer cut in, smiling at the receptionist. “She’s looking after my son.”

  “Very good, madam. But you will need to know Miss Washington’s passport number.”

  Jennifer held up the passports in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have them all here.”

  Having filled in their forms, the receptionist escorted them across the hall and left them in the capable hands of the head porter.

  “Right then,” he said, taking a number of keys out of the cubby-holes behind him. “You are all on the fourth floor. Mr. Culpepper room 410, Mr. Hogan 416, Mrs. and Master Newman 422 and Miss Washington 427. Now, I’ll get someone to take you up, and your bags will be brought to you directly.”

  He called over a bellboy and handed him the keys, and they were led over to the lift in the corner by the stairs. Jennifer looked a
round for Jasmine and Benji, catching sight of them through the glass doors as they walked slowly towards her along the pink-carpeted hallway, staring at everyone and everything they passed. She pushed open one of the doors.

  “Come on, you two. We’re going up to our rooms.” Realizing that the lift was not going to be able to accommodate them all, Sam took hold of Russ’s arm and stepped out.

  “We’ll walk up, Jennifer. It’ll do us good.” He turned to Jennifer. “Listen, I was thinking on the plane over that maybe we should have a couple of ideas up our sleeves for the meeting tomorrow, so Russ and I are going to put our heads together for the day. But I want you to have the day on your own—take Benji and Jasmine around London or something, and we’ll meet down here for a drink at, say, six-thirty, okay?”

  “Are you sure you don’t need me, Sam?”

  He smiled and shook his head. “No. I want you all to enjoy yourselves. If you need anything, though, just give either myself or Russ a call. Room 410 or 416.”

  “All right. Thanks, Sam.” She pushed herself into the lift beside Jasmine.

  “Now?” Benji looked up at the bellboy, his finger hovering in front of the fourth-floor button.

  “Now,” the bellboy replied with a brief nod of his head and Benji punched the button.

  Jennifer was allowed only half an hour’s respite before Benji began pressing impatiently for her to go out, so, having prised Jasmine from her room, they set off along Piccadilly towards Green Park. Opposite the underground station, they picked up an open-topped tour bus, and despite the blustering coolness of the wind, they succumbed to Benji’s insistence that they should ride on the upper deck. Jennifer and Jasmine sat with their coats pulled tight about them, while Benji dived from one side of the sparsely populated bus to the other, as the creamy voice of the tour guide called out each of the sights—Hyde Park Corner, Buckingham Palace, The Mall, Whitehall, The Houses of Parliament—before proceeding along the Victoria Embankment to the Tower. By that point, Jennifer noticed that Jasmine, although pretending bravely to be enjoying herself, looked as if she were in the early stages of hypothermia, so they abandoned the bus and took to the warmer climes of the underground. Taking the Circle Line to Baker Street, they spent the rest of the morning and the early part of the afternoon meandering slowly around Madame Tussaud’s, with Benji having his photograph taken with as many of the waxwork celebrities as was possible.