Chapter 48
Marcus got in the car in silence.
He turned to Jake and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘Come with me to London. Let’s go and see her together.’
‘No. I have to find Martha’s son.’
Marcus’s hand dropped from Jake’s shoulder.
‘I made a promise. He is the boy in the photo.’
‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, not those photos again. I thought you gave them back?’
‘Not exactly.’
‘You know, you really should get your priorities straight.’
‘Oh, you’re a fine one to talk; you’re only going to London to sort out your business affairs.’
‘Life goes on, Jake; life, work – you know that.’ There was no malice in Marcus’s voice.
‘How many times have you been to see her?’ Jake wasn’t a betting man, but he expected he would be able to count off the number of times on one hand.
Marcus went very quiet.
‘You haven’t been?’ Jake said, astonished.
Marcus shook his head.
‘Not once?’
Again, Marcus shook his head. ‘Not once,’ he whispered. ‘I thought you …’
Jake shook his head, staring at Marcus. ‘Me neither.’ His voice was small.
Their eyes locked in mutual understanding; they had both assumed the other had been to see her. And they had both been wrong. And what of William? They knew he had flown out to America not long after the accident and hadn’t been back since. The golf courses were much nicer over there, apparently. And what of Grace, Eleanor’s mother? Would she have visited her daughter?
‘Christ – what must she think of us?’ Marcus’s expression was pained.
‘Well, that’s the point, isn’t it? She won’t think. She probably won’t even know. Let’s face it, she’s not really with us in any real …’
‘Oh stop, Jake! For god’s sake will you just … stop.’
They sat in deafening silence. Deafened by the sound of their own memories: for Marcus, of a sister; for Jake, of a friend, lover, wife – and for a short while, the mother of their unborn child.
‘I need to see her,’ said Marcus finally. ‘Please come with me. I can’t do this alone.’
‘No,’ said Jake firmly. He started the car, and set off for the airport.
Marcus disappointment was palpable.
‘But I’ll join you in London in a few days. That will give me a chance to try and fulfil a dying woman’s last wish, and see if I bump into the man impersonating Arnold Wright, and get to the bottom of that.’ Jake glanced at Marcus. ‘By which time you will have had a chance to sort out that thing.’ Jake was referring to the clearing in the woods and who in the Ross Corporation had given the go-ahead for something to be built there.
‘I don’t care about the business.’
‘Don’t give me that crap,’ Jake said sharply. ‘Of course you do. It’s your life, and you know it.’
Marcus’s mouth twitched in a knowing smile.
Jake pulled into the airport car park, switched off the engine, and turned to Marcus.
‘If you want to stay in control of the company from here on out, you need to get in control of yourself, Marcus. I know what you’re on. You need to stop – right now.’
Marcus frowned. ‘I don’t think I can. Besides, it’s no big deal. Do you know how many execs are users in the city, to cope with the long hours and demands of their jobs?’
Jake wasn’t interested in excuses. He folded his arms.
Marcus sighed. ‘Honestly, I don’t know any other way to keep myself going.’
‘I do,’ said Jake. ‘Delegate.’
Marcus looked at him, aghast, as though he’d just suggested he hand over the reins to somebody else. He said, ‘I don’t trust anyone implicitly like I trust you – we were partners.’
‘The best,’ said Jake, remembering the cut and thrust of those business deals, the feel of elation at every new contract scored, the sense of achievement at each new ceremonial brick that was laid in the foundations at the start of a new project. ‘I’ve got a new job now, a new life. It’s where I belong, Marcus. You have to accept that.’
‘I don’t know how to delegate,’ Marcus said miserably.
‘Then learn,’ said Jake. ‘I know that since I left, you’ve been virtually doing both our jobs.’
‘How on earth could you possibly know that?’
‘Oh, let’s just say I have my sources.’ Jake let him stew a little before adding, ‘It’s those women from the London office that you keep setting me up on dates with. It’s been very enlightening.’
Marcus opened his mouth to protest that it wasn’t him, realised he’d been rumbled, and shut it again.
Jake continued, ‘You think you’ve been keeping tabs on me? Marcus, I’ve been keeping tabs on you. I found out you’ve been working like no sane human being can – without some help of the chemical variety, that is. And with a little insider gossip coming my way about whose been hired, fired, and promoted, I made a very good bet about what was going on. And you know I’m not a betting man.’
Jake knew that no young blood had been hired or promoted since his impromptu departure, and that left a board of ancient directors who had been there since time immemorial. They turned up to board meetings like self-important hens, and they did bring with them years of accumulated business acumen to make critical decisions for the company. But who implemented them? Who saw the job through to completion?
Jake realised that for Marcus, the past few months must have been hell. Times had changed. Where once there had been three executive directors at the helm – William, Jake and Marcus – taking equal share in the day-to-day responsibilities, now there was one. And there was nothing Jake could do about that. He couldn’t go back. But he was prepared to cut Marcus some slack, for old times’ sake. ‘Marcus, have you ever heard of rehab clinics?’
Marcus looked at him blankly.
‘There’s a luxury residential clinic in London. I looked it up online. It’s the sort of place where celebrities go who are suffering from …’ Jake chose his words carefully, ‘exhaustion.’ It was a familiar euphemism, which as far as most people were concerned, Jake included, meant attempting to kick their latest addiction, and having some very expensive therapy sessions thrown in.
‘If you think for one second that I’m going to check myself in to some clinic with a bunch of—’
‘People, Marcus. They’re only people like you and me, trying to make sense of their lives, trying to make sense of the hands they’ve been dealt – that’s all. If you just stopped to think about it for a moment, you’d know it makes sense. You need to sort yourself out, Marcus, and you need to do it now. But you can’t do it on your own.’
Jake was playing the you’ve got to be cruel to be kind card. And he had another card up his sleeve, or at least he hoped the clinic did; it was called the therapy card. Jake secretly hoped that while they helped him kick his habit, the counsellors could help him face his demons; Marcus was suffering from denial. Perhaps, this way, Marcus would come to some sort of acceptance of his part in Eleanor’s condition, and there would be closure for them both.
Marcus still had to deal with what had really happened on the ski slope when he’d found the two of them buried in the snow after the avalanche. There had been no one else up there, although Marcus had convinced himself there was. If only he could come to terms with the truth.
Jake would gladly have taken her place. The fact was that if Marcus had dug out Eleanor first, Jake would be in that hospital now rather than Eleanor, and maybe their baby would still be alive. Jake would never go so far as to tell Marcus what else they had lost that day when he’d made the decision to dig Jake out first instead of his sister. No one else knew about the baby. They’d never had a chance to make the announcement.
He studied Marcus. ‘Good,’ he said, detecting a hint of resignation in those dark eyes. ‘I’ve still got plenty of holiday left, so what I propose …’ Jake drew a long breath in the knowledge that once he’d said it, he couldn’t go back on it. Was he sure he wanted to do this? Not in a million years. But what he was sure of was that it was time to help Marcus. He wished a fist in the face would bring Marcus to his senses, as Marcus’s punch had done for him, but he knew it could never be that simple.
‘What I propose is this. While you’re out of the office for … oh, a week or so at rehab …’ Jake wondered how long Marcus would need in the clinic. He really didn’t want to spend the rest of the school holidays, which amounted to about six weeks, back at the Ross Corporation. But if he really had to, for Marcus to sort himself out once and for all, then so be it. He had the time. At least he could console himself with the thought that he’d be returning for the new school year in September.
Jake took a deep breath, and said, ‘I’ll hold the fort until—’
‘You’re coming back?’ Marcus said eagerly.
‘No, Marcus. It’s just temporary – that’s all. I’ll make sure the board doesn’t do anything else behind your back while you’re away. I’ll be your eyes and ears.’
‘You’d do that for me?’ Marcus wasn’t stupid; he knew how hard it was for Jake to return.
‘Of course I would, you idiot.’ Jake smiled at him. ‘But as soon as you’re back, I’m history.’ He wagged a finger at Marcus. ‘Is that understood?’
Marcus understood. Jake had found more than a new job these past few months; he had found another woman that he loved, and the guilt was eating him alive. For Jake to move on with his life, it would have been better if Eleanor had died. Marcus understood this now. Jake had to believe – however insanely – that this was true. It was the only way to distance himself from her and continue to be a functioning human being.
But it was over. It had to be – this charade, this deceit. And what Marcus wanted now more than anything was for Jake to stop blaming him for Eleanor’s fate. So he was going to check himself into the clinic Jake had suggested, if for no other reason than to give Jake an opportunity to take that step back into his old life. Maybe, just maybe, it would be like another fist in the face; the fist of reality forcing him to face the truth that it had been an accident, pure and simple; nobody could have done a thing to change the outcome. Her fate had been sealed the moment she had stepped out of that cable car onto the ski slopes with an insane idea in her head that would lead them all off-piste and into a living nightmare. Only time might heal some of the pain that her absence had left behind.
Marcus knew part of that healing process would be for them to visit Eleanor, to accept what had happened and move on. But neither of them were ready for that; not yet. Marcus knew he’d have to get through his little sojourn at the clinic first. And then he had someone to find – the other person who had been on that ski slope, and who had dug Jake out of the snow first after the avalanche. It wasn’t him. He just had to convince Jake of that fact.
He knew what Jake was thinking: that he was in denial over what had really happened. Marcus knew better. He just had to find the person to prove it.
Marcus got out of the car. ‘You okay to drive?’ he said, holding the driver’s door open as Jake got in.
‘Yes, yes,’ said Jake, feeling a lot less confident than he sounded but impatient to get going, to find Martha’s son, and to leave Scotland.
He did have the urge to return the car and leave with Marcus, but there was something he had to do before he left which had nothing to do with Arnold or Martha or the business with finding her son.
Marcus slammed the car door shut and disappeared around the back of the car. Jake watched in his rear-view mirror as Marcus opened the boot. He reappeared at the side of the car with his case and tapped on Jake’s window.
Jake pressed the button to release the electric window as Marcus squatted down beside the car, resting an elbow on the window ledge. ‘You’re going to need ice for that.’ Marcus lifted a finger and pointed at Jake.
Jake touched his temple near his right eye. It felt very tender. He winced. He was just thankful that Marcus hadn’t broken the skin; he didn’t need another bandage, courtesy of Marcus.
‘Look, about that …’ Marcus began.
Jake could tell Marcus was building up to a monumentally unnecessary apology, but feeling absurdly fragile all of a sudden, and just a little sorry for himself, Jake let him continue.
‘I am so sorry. I really don’t know what came over me.’
‘I do.’ Jake stared out of the front window. ‘I’ve been a real jerk.’ He turned to look at Marcus. ‘I just wish you’d smacked me one months ago, before … before I put up that stupid …’ He didn’t have to say any more; the expression on Marcus’s face said it all – he understood. And that was what he had to stay behind and do; put an end to this insanity so he could face her – finally. The memorial stone in the garden of The Lake House had to come down.
‘You will come back to London – won’t you?’ Marcus searched his face.
Jake clasped a reassuring hand on Marcus’s forearm. ‘You know I will. I’ll drive you there myself. Once you’re settled in, I’m sure everything …’
‘Jake.’
Something in Marcus’s tone stopped him short.
‘Jake, I’m not talking about the rehab clinic.’
‘Oh.’ Jake shifted nervously in his seat.
Marcus repeated the question. ‘You will come with me to see Eleanor, won’t you?’
Jake looked at him for a long moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the answer to that question. He could answer him in a heartbeat. He just couldn’t quite believe he had come this far, made it to this point where he could even recognise the question for what it was – that Eleanor was still alive – let alone give an affirmative.
‘Yes,’ said Jake in answer to his question. ‘As soon as I’ve cleared up things here, I’ll fly down to London – you can count on me. Just check yourself into the clinic – when you are ready. I will cover for you at work as promised.’
Marcus smiled. ‘I know you will. And I’ll do something for you. I’m going to phone Faye, speak to her.’
Jake creased his brow. ‘Why?’
‘Look, I know it’s none of my business, and I hope it’s not because of me, but I get the feeling Faye is a bit … well … cheesed off with you.’
Jake wasn’t in the mood to go into that. ‘Yeah, she won’t answer my calls.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ll sort it out.’
‘Will you?’ Jake wondered what Marcus could possibly say to her to make Faye phone him back.
‘Of course. What are best friends for?’ Marcus squeezed his forearm affectionately and got up.
Jake realised, as he watched Marcus walking across the car park in the direction of the airport terminal, that he needed Marcus just as much as Marcus needed him. Neither could go and see Eleanor alone, yet had been denied any possibility of going together – Jake had made sure of that. They had each been locked in internal battles with their consciences, and in an external battle with each other; it was a hell hole of their own making which they had both been desperate to escape. They needed to free themselves from this burden of guilt of surviving the accident intact where she had not. Only then, perhaps, would they be able to move along the road to some semblance of normality, always careful to avoid those backward glances to what might have been.