‘Oh, he was having the time of his life last time I saw him. Doesn’t need me.’
‘Okay, I’m game if you are.’ She grinned.
‘Too easy.’ He said. He took her arm and discreetly guided her through the room to the exit, where they collected their coats. Nick winked wickedly at the concierge as he ushered her through the big double doors, and they left like a pair of children sneaking out for some fun. A lone taxi squatted by the kerb in the deserted street, smoke trailing from the driver’s window. The circular moon cast icy jagged shadows on the pavement, broken into uneven shapes by the glow from low street lights. Small puddles of water glistened in luminous patches on the ground. Twisting his wrist over Nick glanced at his watch. ‘It’s only eleven thirty. Night’s still a pup. Let’s walk see if we can find that coffee.’
‘All right.’ She said, taking his arm as they set off. ‘Okay, Nick Torrens you know I’m a politician. What about you? Where did you get that tan?’
‘Comes from years at sea. I’m an oceanographer.’
‘An oceanographer eh? That’s interesting. I take it you’re not married?’ She said glancing at his ringless fingers.
‘No. It’s not the kind of life for a woman. I’m at sea more than I’m on land. I’m on a break right now, my ship’s in dry dock. How ‘bout you?’
‘Thirty-two, divorced no kids and I love my job.’ It rolled off her tongue as easily as if she had been ordering a hamburger with mustard and French fries.
Nick grinned.
Three blocks from the Lincoln they found a small cafe with dim lights concealing inexpensive furniture. A young bearded man huddled in a dingy corner softly strumming a guitar, droning a bluesy ballad, and an older couple snuggled at a corner table, engaged in earnest conversation oblivious to others in the room. Nick guided Laura into a vacant booth in the opposite corner and ordered bottomless black coffee. Time stopped, or so it seemed to them as they sat for hours sharing the details of their lives. Her controlled speech began to wane, revealing she wasn’t really as sophisticated as he first thought, and he was pleased.
Life as an oceanographer had always been all he needed, but now, suddenly at forty-five he began to see other possibilities. He and his brother Brian were raised by their father who had been so devastated by his wife’s death he turned to drink, and later as he grew older his career had precluded any deep relationships. Laura seemed different, there was something about her that stirred unexplained feelings, an intriguing sense of mischief.
During the days that followed Nick’s life changed. He spent every spare moment he could find with Laura. When she attended a debate in the Senate he insisted on watching from the gallery, fascinated. She was seated at a gleaming timber desk in a semicircular row among others facing the Chair. His eyes never left her, absorbed by her spell, so much so that the content of the debate that day completely eluded him.
She in turn loved his casualness, his sense of humour, the way he tossed his long hair, even the way he dressed, preferring his lived-in shorts, boating shoes with no socks and T-shirt that drew curious looks from her well dressed friends.
Her background of wealth was revealed by her large apartment in the city with its winter landscape of aquamarine, icy greens and crystal accessories. Enormous glass walls overlooked a multitude of glittering city lights, and three huge crystal chandeliers strung from the fifteen-foot ceilings mirrored them inside. Ivory marble floors inlaid with a pattern of darker marble created an appropriate backdrop for the expensive artefacts that filled every room. An ivory-coloured grand piano dominated one corner of the vast lounge, which he discovered later was not for show. She was an accomplished pianist and delighted in entertaining him with enchanting recitals. This room swung off into an octagonal-shaped dining area large enough to hold an enormous, oval dining table with seating for twelve people, where she often entertained many of Washington’s influential residents. An intriguing curved marble staircase led to a secluded rooftop garden, which she explained was her escape from the lunacy of public life.
‘Some escape.’ He said on his first visit. ‘What’d you do? Bring the park up here?’
‘Don’t you like it?’
‘It’s great, but I never expected you to be a gardener.’ The rooftop was covered by fake green turf that looked so real he looked for the lawn mower. Colourful plants sprouted from a garden border backed by high glass walls. Water trickled from the mouth of a black granite dolphin into an equally black spa pool.
‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me.’ She winked.
‘Mmm. Do you use the spa much?’
‘Not as much as I’d like. I keep hoping one day things will ease up but they never do.’
‘Shame’
Something furry brushed Nick’s leg and he jumped. ‘What the?’
‘Meet Maxime.’ Laura said picking up a brown cat. ‘This’s her domain.’
Nick looked into a pair of brilliant blue Siamese eyes and he softened. He had always wanted a cat. He stroked her fine smooth fur and felt the ripples of pleasure under her skin as she grinned back at him from the security of Laura’s arms.
For the next six weeks while Nick was in Washington, they secreted themselves in this garden’s peace and seclusion. It was intoxicating and Nick wallowed in the new found luxury of another person wanting to be with him, and not wanting to change him or his lifestyle. He questioned how long it would last when it became obvious from the very beginning the relationship would struggle. They snatched hungrily at brief interludes as often as their busy schedules would permit, and each time they parted he sensed a hopelessness he was too afraid to acknowledge. Their careers didn’t match, he knew that. She was a senator with high demands on her time and she was idealistic, and he was a man who loved the sea before all else, a wanderer, a master of his own universe.
‘You have no idea how much corruption there is out there.’ She had told him. ‘I have a duty. The government needs honest dedicated people.’
Chapter Eight
The plane bumped and the glass Nick was barely holding tilted, swishing the remainder of the scotch into his lap, snapping him back to the realisation of his surroundings. He wished right then he could run to Laura and hide in her apartment, but he instinctively knew they may never share that world again. He pulled out his mobile sat-phone and dialled Laura’s number. The new sat-phones had superseded the old mobile and cell phones and provided clear communications at any distance.
‘Hello.’ The familiar purr gripped his heart.
‘Hi love. Er, how are you?’
A shaky tone in his voice alerted her and she sensed tension. ‘Nick! Where are you? You sound different. Is anything wrong?’
‘No. I’m okay. Just wanted to let you know I’m on my way back to Washington. I’m, ah, calling from the plane.’
‘That’s fabulous. I’ve missed you sooo..much! Can’t wait to see you. I’ll meet you at the airport.’
‘I’d love you to, but Josh’s meeting me. We’ve got some urgent business to discuss. I’ll call you the minute I’m free, I might be held up. See y’soon. Okay?’ He deliberately disconnected the phone before she could ask questions he did not want to answer.
Having no luggage to collect he threaded his way immediately to the noisy arrival lounge. Dulles International Airport was crowded as usual with excited people scurrying in all directions, while other tired travellers lounged on uncomfortable seats, dozing and yawning, irritated by the inevitable delays.
Because they were nearing summer most people wore cool coloured jack suits: long knee-length jackets over body hugging trousers, or body suits with high collars made of the new silky light weight material incorporating an ingredient of Navilon that needed no ironing, and insulated the wearer from the temperature depending on the colour. Some people still wore the warm colours of winter.