‘My, my, Jack,’ I say, ‘is that a new shirt? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in red.’
He flushes. ‘Alison picked it out,’ he mumbles, and steps out of the lift.
‘Hey, it looks good. Really. Actually, very dashing.’
‘And you’re playing fast and loose with your compliments today.’
‘I am,’ I agree, and go into his arms. It is so familiar. So good. I love Jack. I truly do. He is like that first ray of sunshine after a particularly heavy downpour. A delicious uncomplicated invitation to go out and play. I step away. ‘Come and see the place.’
I push open the door and turn around. ‘Wow,’ Jack says. ‘This place must have cost something.’
‘Yeah, wait till you see the view.’ I pull him by the hand towards the balcony.
‘Startling, isn’t it?’
‘Vistas like this must surely induce attacks of megalomania,’ he says softly. We stand in silence for a minute, and then he turns to me. ‘Where’s the brat then?’
‘Sleeping.’
‘Again?’
I laugh. It is so easy with Jack. ‘Want some real coffee?’
‘What kind of question is that?’
‘Come on then.’
I put on some music and we sit on the sofa with our cappuccinos.
‘Just off the top of your head, what do you know about Cronus?’
‘That’s a strange question.’
I take a sip of the hot liquid. ‘Just heard it the other day and realized I didn’t know anything about it.‘
‘My Greek mythology is very shaky, but I believe he is the god who ate his own children. It is also another name for Saturn, or Father Time.’
‘The god who ate his own children?’
‘Yeah, it was to stop a prophecy that his own child would overthrow him. Something like that, anyway.’
I nod unhappily. Don’t like the sound of any of it. After Jack leaves I intend to do my own research.
‘Are you happy, Lana?’
‘No,’ I say before I can stop myself.
His coffee cup freezes on its way to his lips.
I cover my mouth with the tips of my fingers. I can’t tell him about Cronus so I start making it up. ‘No, wait. That came out wrong. I’m not actively unhappy.’ I clasp my hands under my chin. ‘But you know how I feel about him. It’s a kind of torture to be so in love with someone who doesn’t love you back. I’m the dead wasp floating in his glass of champagne. I ruin his perfect life. His perfect plans.’ And yet this too is true. Blake is not happy. There is something that is tearing his insides, but he won’t tell me what it is.
Jack puts his coffee cup on the low table. ‘You poor duck,’ he says with such compassion, I am suddenly filled with morbid self-pity. I blink back the tears. Jack puts his hand out.
‘Don’t touch her.’
The violence in the words startles me. I swing my head around and find Blake standing at the door of the living room. We had not heard him enter. The thick carpets, the music.
His face is a thundercloud. I jump up guiltily, my face flaming. And then I realize I have done nothing wrong. We have done nothing wrong. My innocence makes my voice strong. ‘We were just talking, Blake. Jack is my brother.’
Blake does not look at me. ‘He’s not your brother. He’s in love with you.’
‘Oh! For God’s sake,’ I burst out angrily, and turn to Jack in exasperation for support against such a distorted view of our relationship, and then I freeze.
Jack is looking at me with so much pain in his tortured, artist’s eyes. Why, Blake is right. My Jack is in love with me. Deeply. Hopelessly. Perhaps for years. It seems impossible. It is me who has been so blind, so stupid. Both our mothers knew it.
‘Jack?’ I whisper. I want him to deny it so it can all be as it was before—uncomplicated, beautiful, but he presses his lips into a thin line and starts walking towards the door. Blankly, I follow his progress past Blake, their shoulders almost brushing but not quite. He is in the corridor when I find my legs and begin to run after him. Blake catches me by the arm.
‘Let me pass,’ I hiss.
He looks at me. Implacable, his eyes glittering. ‘I don’t share,’ he rasps.
‘Please… He needs me now’
‘Your pity is the last thing he needs.’
‘I wasn’t offering pity. I was offering friendship.’
‘He doesn’t want your friendship either. He wants you in his arms, in his bed. Can you give him that, Lana?’
We stand there staring at each other, the air bristling. Then he releases my arm and backs away from me. I drop my head. As I stand there crushed by my loss, he puts his arms around me and draws me to his body. ‘I’m sorry, baby.’
I lay my cheek against his hard chest. Dry-eyed. When the loss is that big tears don’t come. I know from the time I lost my mother. Tears come when you release that person and I refuse to release Jack. He will fall in love with someone else. He will forget this love he has for me and then we will be brother and sister again. I feel Blake’s lips on my hair.
And I begin to cry. Not for the loss of Jack because I will never lose Jack, but for the loss of Blake, because I know in my heart of hearts I can’t keep him. Because of Cronus; because everything I really love is always being taken away from me. Blake doesn’t understand why I am crying or clinging or why I am insatiable. I am drinking the last of the summer wine. That night I let myself get drunk as a skunk.
Nineteen
When I go to visit Billie she has a surprise for Sorab. A beautiful rocking horse from Mamas & Papas.
‘OMG!’ I exclaim. ‘You shouldn’t have. That must have cost a fortune,’ I go to it and touch the soft brown material of the horse’s mouth.
‘Nah, I nicked it.’
I whirl around to face her. Trying to imagine how on earth she walked out of the store with such a big item in her arms. ‘Why, Billie?’
She shrugs. ‘It’s not a big deal. These big corporations make allowances for pilferage. It’s part of their operating costs.’
‘When we have our business are we going to make allowances for pilferage too?’
‘Hell, no.’
I raise my eyebrows and cross my arms over my chest.
‘All right,’ she says. ‘But I’m not taking it back.’
I laugh. Billie is incorrigible. Sometimes I wish I was like her. Life is such an abundant adventure. She takes everything with both hands.
‘Listen, Billie, I know why you did it, but you don’t have to compete with Blake. You’re Sorab’s aunt. You’ll always be there,’ and the words stick in my throat, but I spit them out, ‘Blake will not.’
‘I’m sorry, Lana.’
‘You don’t have to apologize to me.’
‘I’m sorry that you can’t have Blake.’
‘Yeah. It’s a bummer.’
‘I got a bottle of vodka,’ she suggests brightly.
I smile. ‘No, but I’ll have a cup of tea, though.’
We are sitting at the kitchen table having our tea when the doorbell rings.
‘Expecting someone?’
‘Yeah, Jack said he might come around.’
‘Oh!’
She goes to open the door. ‘Hey, you.’
‘Hey, yourself,’ Jack says and comes in.
‘Hello, Jack,’ I greet softly.
‘Hello, Lana.’ He is surprised to see me. His eyes seem sad. So sad. I don’t think I have ever seen him like this. Now that his secret has been unmasked he seems purposeless, empty and defeated. He looks like a man who has had all his dreams and hopes shattered, and he is simply standing there looking at the shards in disbelief.
I move forward and he looks at me with a tortured expression.