The sofa was uncomfortable, broken springs pressing into their hips, legs cramping as they untangled themselves, the aftertaste of sex on their lips. A slight embarrassment as she fastened her bra, her face averted from him.
In bed, she fell into an exhausted sleep. He tried to imagine waking up beside a different face, a different form — Karin Moylan sauntered into view – but the leap was too great for his imagination. Nadine turned, still sleeping, and slid her arm across his hip. A practiced gesture, as established as his regular breathing when he finally drifted asleep. Her words were out there now, asteroids in space, already spinning off in directions neither of them could foresee.
Chapter 13
Three weeks had passed since that night. Sometimes, in the throes of work, Jake wondered if he had imagined their entire conversation. Freedom. The word had dangerous connotations and Nadine had teased them out in front of him. Was she crazy? Was he crazy not to listen to her? She had not mentioned their discussion since, nor had he, but ignoring something did not mean it would go away. She was waiting for him to make up his mind. When they were together he was aware of her every movement, each change of expression, the undercurrent of tension behind her words. Had he ever known what went on beneath that storm of red hair?
Small but significant changes were taking place between them. They had not made love since that night. The desire that flamed so swiftly had burned itself out and, now, they lay chastely apart, apologising, almost embarrassed, if they made contact. They avoided intimate actions like walking naked from the shower or dressing in front of each other. They tapped on their office doors before entering and no longer checked each other’s work diaries, something they used to do without a second thought. And the texts he had intended on deleting remained on his phone. New ones arrived from Karin but they no longer lifted his spirits or sank him into a reverie. He was focused on only one thing. The decision he must make. He had the unsettling sensation that a tamed animal might feel when faced with the challenge of an open cage door.
Then Darina Moylan died. Five years in the grip of Alzheimer’s, Darina passed gently away and Karin flew home from for her grandmother’s funeral. It was literally a ‘flying’ visit, she emphasised to Jake in her text. She would spend two days in Dublin where she would attend her grandmother’s funeral and view the apartment she hoped to buy.
They met in the Clarion Hotel beside Dublin Airport for an hour before she flew back to New York. She was waiting for him when he arrived, still dressed in funeral black, the brim of a hat low over her eyes. Darina had outlived her contemporaries and her funeral had been a quiet ceremony, Karin told him when he expressed his condolences. She was pleased with the apartment and had decided to buy it. He knew the location. One of the flashy Celtic Tiger developments built on the once derelict docklands overlooking the Liffey.
‘How’s the Shard reunion coming along?’ she asked after he had viewed photos of the apartment on her mobile.
‘We’ve had to postpone,’ he admitted.
Her eyes narrowed with disappointment when he explained that Reedy had been offered a contract with a band whose guitarist went into rehab just as they were about to tour the States.
‘We’ve still four months to go before we’re officially over the twenty-five year mark,’ he said. ‘So, it will happen before March.’
‘I’ll be living back here by then,’ she said. ‘Will you invite me?’
‘It’s an open concert. Anyone can come.’
‘I’ll look forward to it.’ She stirred her cappuccino and licked the froth from the curve of the spoon. ‘How’s Nadine?’
‘Busy.’
‘That’s all you ever say.’
‘What do you want me to say?’
‘The truth. Is she happy with you? Are you happy with her? And, if so, why are you here with me?’
‘That’s a lot of questions, Karin.’
‘Are you going to answer them?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘That’s not an answer.’ She was challenging him, her head tilted at that now familiar angle.
‘I’ll tackle the last one first,’ he said. ‘I’m here with you because I can’t get you out of my head. You’re a torment and a pleasure. I keep thinking about New York. About what could have happened if you’d invited me into your apartment.’
‘I’ve thought about that too,’ she said softly. ‘But I’m not sure what we’re going to do about it.’
He had forgotten the power of her gaze. The smouldering promise carried on the sweep of eyelashes.
‘When are you moving back here?’ he asked.
‘Why?’
‘You shouldn’t have to ask.’
‘Oh, but I do. Dublin isn’t New York, Jake. It’s like a village with its ear to the ground. What about Nadine? If we do see each other… what are you offering me? An affair? I’ve been down that road before. It doesn’t lead anywhere.’
He was tempted to throw caution to the wind and tell her everything. Instinct warned him it was too soon. He was standing on the edge of a crevice, his toes braced against the fall.
‘I’m not offering you an affair, Karin.’
‘What then?’
‘A relationship… if that’s what you also want. But…’
She smiled ruefully. ‘Married men always have a ‘but.’ What’s yours?’
‘I’ve some important decisions to make. I can’t say more than that for now. Can you trust me to have everything sorted out when I see you again?’
‘Are you a rarity, Jake Saunders? An honest married man? Or are you teasing me? Promising something you can’t possibly deliver? Where’s Nadine in all of this?’
‘Nadine wants what I want.’
‘Really?’ She checked her watch and stood up. ‘You two seem to share everything, including the desire to end your marriage. It’s time to catch my flight.’
‘Is something wrong?’ He was startled by her abrupt comment but she had bent to pick up her overnight case. A slit at the back of her dress opened to reveal a trim of kingfisher blue. He admired the way she used her signature colour, flamboyantly draping it over her shoulders or discreetly revealing it in the bend of a pleat. She was smiling again when she straightened.
‘Why should anything be wrong?’ she asked as they walked towards the exit. ‘I want you, Jake. I always have… ever since that summer. But I don’t share. That’s something you have to accept or this relationship you’ve promised won’t work. Is that a commitment you’re prepared to make?’
‘Yes.’
At the top of the steps she stretched on her toes to kiss him. No longer eye-to-eye, mouth-to-mouth. A new configuration, his tall frame against her diminutive figure. Would their conversation have moved so swiftly from a light flirtation into something more demanding if Nadine had not dangled such alluring possibilities before him? She had kicked the supports of their marriage from under him and he was adrift on anticipation. On the newness of discovery. Addictive, mind-blowing emotions.
‘You were right about everything,’ he told Nadine when they were in bed that night. ‘Thank you for having the courage to take that first step.’
She looked exhausted, dark shadows under her eyes. Was she regretting her decision already? Too late now. His resolve was as fixed as the markings on a new coin.
‘It won’t be easy,’ she said. ‘Eleanor will be furious.’
‘I’ll deal with her. What we’ve decided to do is none of her business.’
‘We’ll tell the children when they’re all together at Christmas?’
‘We will.’ A claw sharpened with guilt scraped against his chest.
‘Do you think we’ll have phantom pains when we separate?’ she asked. ‘You in your mews. Me in my cottage.’
‘Phantom pains are possible,’ he replied. ‘For a while, anyway… until we get used to being apart.’
‘I hope we don’t end up hating each other.’