Deuce

by Jen Silver

While Donna paid and made the delivery arrangements, Tess wandered around, awed by the selection of so much fine food and drink that she couldn’t afford.

  There were a few more stops along Oxford Street to gather other items for the party. It was a fine day, so they wandered down Regent Street, looking in windows and generally behaving like tourists.

  “Fortnum’s for lunch?” Donna asked when they reached Piccadilly Circus.

  Tess would have preferred a pub or a wine bar, but this was Donna’s day out, so she agreed half-heartedly. Expecting to be sitting in front of a pot of tea and selection of gourmet sandwiches, Tess was delighted when Donna led the way to the downstairs wine bar. She’d forgotten it was there.

  Donna grinned at her once they were seated. “My treat. For dragging you around the shops.”

  “Thank you.” Tess felt a pang of guilt. Donna wasn’t going to be happy with her continued pursuit of information about her birth parents. Or the discovery of a half-sibling. She decided to wait until they’d enjoyed their meal and a few glasses of wine before confessing.

  Over lunch they covered general topics: her job, Alice’s, Donna’s involvement in golf-club politics.

  “That’s something you could do a piece on, love. Exploring why, in this day and age, golf clubs still get away with marginalising women.”

  “You’d have to write it. I don’t know enough about golf. Except that it looks mind-numbingly boring.”

  “You wouldn’t say that if you played.”

  This was an old argument, going nowhere. Tess decided it was time to jump in with both feet. “I saw Jay Reid again this week. Went round to her house, and she showed me photos of Char and Stewart.”

  Donna’s eyes clouded over.

  Tess reached across the table and grasped her hand. “Mum, I still love you. And Cheryl. I’m just curious about where I came from.”

  “You always were a curious child. Forever asking questions we couldn’t answer.” Donna managed a sad smile. “No surprise you became a journalist.”

  “I also found out I have a half-sibling. Char gave birth to another child not long before she disappeared. That’s why she stopped coming to see us and it’s the real reason Jay gave up playing tennis. She had a baby to look after.”

  “Really. That didn’t make it into the news at the time.”

  “That’s not all that didn’t get reported. I haven’t been able to find much at all about Char’s research vessel sinking. It’s like there was some sort of news blackout surrounding it. Like it disappeared into a black hole.”

  “I know how your mind works. Are you thinking there was a government cover-up?”

  “I can’t think why. She was researching this virus that was decimating seal colonies, not tracking nuclear submarines.”

  “Seals. Yes, I remember she was obsessed with their welfare. That stuffed toy she gave you when you were two. You dragged it everywhere until it fell apart. You called it Teddy but it was a sea lion.”

  “I don’t remember that. I’ve still got the coral necklace she gave me, although it doesn’t fit around my neck now.” Tess noted that Donna looked happier talking about the past. She decided to leave telling her about meeting with Josh for another time.

  PART TWO

  Chapter Eight

  I am Charlotte Summersbridge. Repeating this in my head helps to keep returning memories from crowding in too quickly. I need to stem the flow or be overwhelmed. As I stare out the small window as the plane flies lower over the city, London looks familiar, yet different. But I suppose everything will. Even Jay.

  The last few weeks have passed in a whirlwind. From seeing the seal on the sand, to Konrad’s panicked fear that his mother has gone mad, to trying to convince officials I am someone other than the person all my friends and neighbours thought I was.

  Katrin Nielsen didn’t register on any Faroe Islands records. I have no status. The officials were eventually persuaded my story had merit when they saw the images picked up from the Internet. They conceded I resemble the young marine biologist who met with an untimely death. But how had I ended up on the east coast of Suðuroy? It was much further north than the last known location of the research vessel.

  Like putting together a jigsaw puzzle, there are missing pieces, some bits I can join up, while others remain scattered across the table. I know there had been a storm, equipment was damaged, and we were blown off course.

  A team of divers was sent to look for the wreck, mainly to convince the authorities that I wasn’t some madwoman. That they found it, half a mile offshore from the village I stumbled into, was another shock to my recovering memories. I had looked over that stretch of sea every day for the last twenty-three years.

  Now I am travelling to London with Danish embassy officials on a hastily arranged diplomatic passport with the name I was given when I washed up on that remote beach: Katrin Nielsen. They want to keep my other identity secret until the DNA results of all the skeletal remains found with the wreck have been confirmed and relatives informed. My own DNA I have told them can be verified by one of the two children I gave birth to in England.

  Konrad wanted to come with me. Excited, once he recovered from the shock of finding out I was someone else, he wants to meet his newly discovered siblings. He has never been off the island, and a trip to London was like flying to the moon in his mind. He was disappointed to be left with a family connected to the Faroese Representation Office in Copenhagen, but I told him there was a lot to sort out, boring details, meetings, and documentation. I also told him he could use his time while I was away to practice speaking English. I’m sure he will be well looked after.

  My own excitement mounts as the plane’s wheels touch down on the tarmac. But it is mixed with fear too. I can say, “I am Charlotte Summersbridge,” but will anyone remember or care?

  †

  Jay studied the board in the lobby listing all the companies housed in the office building. Bradford Bowen Associates was second from the top on the tenth floor. The lift opened onto a standard reception area. The ficus, situated between two uncomfortable-looking chairs, was covered in dust. The receptionist glanced away from her screen to assess the visitor and tapped a key before speaking. Jay suspected she was playing a game.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I’d like to see Amanda Bowen.”

  “Um, she doesn’t work here.”

  “Oh.” Jay looked at the picture on the wall behind the reception desk. A skyline punctuated by high-rise buildings. Dubai, she guessed. “Is her father in?”

  “Yes. But if you don’t have an appointment….”

  “Tell him Jay Reid is here. I think he’ll want to see me.”

  She lifted the phone, her expression indicating she thought it a waste of her precious time. Jay enjoyed the change in her attitude when it became clear the great man would indeed see her now.

  Buzzed through to the inner sanctum, she walked along to the office at the end of the corridor. The name on the door read: Bradford Bowen, CEO.

  She knocked lightly before entering. The grimness of the outer office wasn’t replicated here. No expense had been spared on the furniture or decor. The room was dominated, though, by the view through the floor-to-ceiling window. The man behind the wide expanse of a polished wooden desk didn’t stand to greet her. Not that she’d expected him to from their previous brief encounter in the restaurant.

  “You’ve got some balls, I’ll admit.” His tone conveyed more amusement than the anger she’d expected.

  “Where’s Amanda? I went to her apartment first.”

  “She’s gone to Barcelona. Her professor friend is speaking at a conference there. I guess she wanted to get away for a few days.”

  “I thought she worked here.”

  A humourless smile creased Bowen’s face. “My daughter is a fantasist. As you would have found out eventually. She works in the admin department of the University of East London. I believe her friend, Dr Lynne Croft, helped her get the job.” />
  “Not a high-flying hedge-fund manager, then?”

  “She wouldn’t know a hedge fund from a horse’s behind.”

  Jay walked over to the window and gazed across the urban landscape. Traffic and people scurried about on the road far below. “What happened to the flowers I sent?”

  “Redirected to either the university or her apartment.”

  Jay reached into her pocket. She placed the items on the edge of the desk. “The rings and the keycard to her flat. Have the wedding arrangements been cancelled?”

  “Yup.”

  “Any cancellation fees? I’m happy to pay my share.”

  “No problem. Turns out the venue was double-booked and the caterers hadn’t started on the food.”

  “What about the honeymoon?”

  “All sorted. After Barcelona, Amanda and the good professor are going on to Corsica. So you’re off the hook on all counts.” He stood then and Jay saw he was taller than she’d thought. Long legs and a short torso. She also noted the wince as he held on to the desk while getting to his feet.

  “Back pain?”

  “What?”

  “I’m a physio. I can see you have some discomfort.”

  “Are you a miracle worker? My doc says I just have to put up with it and it’ll wear off eventually. Keep taking the painkillers, he said.”

  “How long have you had it?”

  “Two months.”

  “That’s a long time to be in pain, and to be on the pills. I may be able to help.” She fished a card out of her jacket pocket.

  He looked at it and raised an eyebrow. “What the fuck is CST when it’s at home?”

  “Cranial sacral therapy. It’s a gentle form of massage and can be effective in relieving some forms of spinal discomfort.”

  “Are you some kind of quack?”

  “No. It is a recognised treatment. I’m also a fully qualified physiotherapist.” She backed towards the door. “Think about it. I can’t relieve the pain I’ve caused your daughter, but I might be able to help you.”

  †

  Lynne looked down at her sleeping friend and hoped she would feel better when she woke up. Amanda had consumed four gin and tonics on the two-hour flight from London and immediately crashed out as soon as they got into the hotel room. She’d already pre-loaded at the airport too. Lynne was just glad she had been able to get her on and off the plane without causing a scene. Airlines were less tolerant of drunken passengers these days.

  She showered and changed into a lighter outfit—shorts and a long-sleeved T-shirt. Lynne then emptied the contents of her handbag into the room safe and stuffed some euros in one pocket and her phone in the other. Leaving a note for Amanda, she ventured out to explore the hotel and surrounding area. Barcelona was a city she had always wanted to visit, and as she would be ensconced in conference talks for the next few days, she planned to make the most of her free time.

  After listening to Amanda’s rants about what a selfish shit Jay Reid was for most of the journey, it was a relief to have a few hours to herself. Lynne had tried to give her some perspective, telling her it was better not to have committed to a loveless marriage. Amanda seemed to be under the impression that lesbian marriages were perfect.

  †

  The rest of the day was filled with client treatments. Jay broke the news of the cancelled wedding to staff during their shared lunch break. Some expressed concern, but Jay assured them it had been her decision and she was happier for it.

  Ross knocked on her door shortly after she’d returned to her office.

  “Come in.”

  He stood awkwardly in front of her desk. “Are you really okay with this, boss?”

  “Yes, I am. I’m just sorry I left it this long to realise it wasn’t what I wanted.” Jay gave him a reassuring smile. He was the only staff member who had met Amanda on the few occasions she’d arrived at the clinic to meet Jay for an after-work dinner date.

  “How did Amanda take it?”

  “Devastated, no doubt. I saw her father this morning and he said she’s gone to Barcelona for the week with her best friend. Sounds like they’re going to continue on to the honeymoon destination.”

  “Oh.” After a moment’s silence, he added, “I’m glad she’s not on her own, then.”

  After he left, Jay shook her head. Ross was a caring soul. That was reflected by the number of clients who returned for therapy sessions with him long after they needed to.

  She turned her attention to reading the notes on her next appointment. Keeping busy was the best way to deflect her mind from the conversation she would be having with Josh later. Telling him face-to-face was the only option.

  Chapter Nine

  Jay removed her hands from under the client’s lower back and moved quietly around to take up a position behind his head. She hadn’t expected to hear from Bradford Bowen again, so she was surprised when the booking appeared on her appointments calendar for Friday morning.

  He appeared to be asleep, but she could tell from his breathing that he wasn’t. However, he had relaxed into the session much more quickly than she’d thought he would. Some people liked to chat while she worked, but he had stayed silent. It didn’t matter to her either way. Talking helped some clients relax.

  She held her hands close to his neck, feeling the stiffness there course through her fingers. After twenty minutes, she gave her hands a shake and walked to the end of the table to spend the last bit of time on his feet.

  “All done,” she announced. “I would recommend sitting up slowly.”

  He did as instructed, opening his eyes and taking a deep breath.

  “Good. Just sit for a few minutes. How does it feel?”

  “I can’t feel anything. I don’t know what you did but the pain’s gone from my back.”

  “Excellent. I’m not pushing you into this. However, I think you would benefit from another session. Your neck and shoulders could do with more work.”

  He stepped off the table and sat in the chair to put his shoes back on. When he stood again, he just grinned, like a six-year-old who’d been given an ice cream. “Well, I have to say, I didn’t really believe in this an hour ago. But, yes. I’ll book in again. Is next Thursday okay?”

  “We usually recommend a week between treatments.”

  “Unfortunately I’m flying to New York on Friday.”

  “Okay. Thursday’s good, then.”

  As she walked him out to reception, he asked, “What do I owe you?”

  “Nothing. The almost-family discount for you, Mr Bowen.”

  “Brad, please.” He shook her hand. “See you next week. And thank you.”

  Jay returned to her office to make notes on the session. At least she’d made one member of the Bowen family happy. She checked the time. Friday afternoons were generally appointment-free so she could make an early getaway for the drive to Norfolk. Today she was meeting Josh at the tailor’s to pick up the suits. He’d been crestfallen when she told him the wedding was off, but she didn’t see any reason he couldn’t still have the suit. There would be other occasions for him to wear it.

  †

  Amanda found she was enjoying the trip more than she could have expected. Unknown to her, Lynne had booked them a junior suite on the ferry that sailed between Barcelona and Rome. The twenty-one hour journey was a treat in itself. Lynne explained that the train would have taken a few hours longer and not been as comfortable.

  She lay on the bed in their hotel room, images swirling through her mind from their tour of the city earlier in the day…the Colosseum, the Forum, Trevi Fountain…finally collapsing onto the Spanish Steps to revel in the warm weather and watch other tourists passing by. For several hours, Amanda had managed to forget that this was supposed to be her wedding day.

  Lynne emerged from the bathroom, rubbing her hair dry. The hotel bathrobe gaped open, revealing her rounded breasts and a triangle of pubic hair, neatly trimmed. Amanda felt a tug of desire and immediately tamped it down. No, sh
e shouldn’t even think about it. Had it really only been all about sex with Jay? She could talk to Lynne about anything. But when had she shared any meaningful conversation with Jay?

  †

  Jay towelled off after her shower. The run through the Holland Park trails left her feeling refreshed. Not as good as a run along the beach at the cottage, though. She thought Ritchie agreed. He’d been restless the evening before, no doubt wondering why they weren’t going to Norfolk on a Friday evening.

  She would have liked to be there too on this, her non-wedding day. But she’d agreed to meet Dougie and Josh for lunch. It would be a while before they saw Dougie again. He was flying out to Alaska on Monday and would be there for months.

  Josh had been semi-relieved when she told him the wedding was cancelled. He had been looking forward to wearing the suit for the ceremony, being in charge of the rings. But he confessed to having trouble writing a best-man’s speech and had worried about making an idiot of himself at the reception when called on to say something. Jay told him she was sure Dougie would have stepped in to make some highly inappropriate comments about her past.

  He was also stunned when Jay told him the mews house was now in his name.

  “But why?” He had clutched her arm. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”

  “No, not at all. I’ve been thinking about doing this for some time.”

  “But that was probably because you were going to move in with Amanda after you got married. This is too much, Mum. The house is worth millions.”

  Jay placed her hand on top of his. “Your happiness is worth that and more to me. When you find someone to share your life with, I’ll move out. Maybe sell the cottage and buy a place nearer to London.”

  That had caused another shocked look to cross his face. “You wouldn’t sell the cottage, surely.”

  “I don’t know. Another feeling that’s been growing for a while. Time to let go of Charley, perhaps.”