Chapter 5
Eleanor was sitting at her dressing room table when she heard the door to the apartment close. She cocked her head to one side, listening to Jake’s footsteps as he crossed the marble hall. She didn’t want him to come into the bedroom just then. She needed time to absorb the conversation she had overheard between him and Aubrey.
Eleanor sat forward in her chair and listened. The tinkling of glasses suggested Jake was pouring himself a drink in the lounge.
She crept to the bedroom door and opened it a crack. The back of Jake’s head was visible on the sofa, and every now and then he raised his elbow and tipped his head back. The crystal glass momentarily twinkled in the artificial light.
With one hand flat on the door and the other turning the handle, Eleanor eased the bedroom door shut. She winced as the catch clicked. She listened again but couldn’t discern any movement on the other side of the door.
Eleanor returned to the dresser and sat down in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection – staring at a young woman she wished was beautiful, smart and witty, just like the women she had met who worked for the company.
Only the previous week, she had been at the company’s Christmas bash in London. As the wife of one of the two top executives, and the daughter of the boss, Eleanor was in the unenviable position of having to attend two Christmas events; she’d attended the first one in Chicago. Invariably, the conversation revolved around work. Those who did not know who she was often asked what position she held within the company. She’d reply that she was one of the wives. What else could she say? To which they’d reply, oh, you’re a homemaker – the American turn of phrase for housewife. How sweet , they’d say, but she could see, written on their faces, and how very boring . Then they’d move swiftly on to conversations with others; conversations of a more interesting, more work-related nature.
Eleanor saw how the smart, sophisticated women flocked around Jake. That often meant that Eleanor spent the evening with other ‘homemakers’, discussing such things like baking and babies. And now, as if to prove her credentials as a certified homemaker, she was pregnant. Her homemaker ‘friends’ were never going to leave her out of the loop now. She really was one of them. And whilst it looked like a worthwhile existence, she somehow didn’t feel it suited her any more than working for the company would.
‘God help me,’ she whispered. Eleanor was not looking forward to returning to Chicago.
She stared miserably at her reflection in the mirror, her thoughts returning to that abrupt wake-up call earlier when she’d heard voices and realised there was somebody in the apartment with Jake. She had listened intently until she had discerned it was only Aubrey – probably there to chuck out some other unfortunate who had failed to live up to Daddy’s standards. She hoped that wasn’t the case, though – not so close to Christmas.
It occurred to her that if Jake was going to tell anybody she was pregnant, it would be Aubrey. They’d always been close. A bond, Eleanor guessed, grown out of their common indebtedness to Daddy for all he had given them.
She didn’t care if it was only Aubrey; she still didn’t want anybody to know – not until Christmas at The Lake House. As Eleanor had approached the door, she’d heard Aubrey talking about how hard Jake worked and how much he deserved to take over once William retired. She’d nodded in agreement and had then got angry as Jake defended her brother, belittling his own efforts.
At that moment, Eleanor had been standing with her hand on the doorknob, about to open the door and tell Jake that he had every right to that top position. Then the conversation had abruptly changed direction, confusing Eleanor. Had he been talking about their marriage? She’d wanted him to stop. So she had flung open the door and announced her presence, stopping Jake in his tracks and putting an end to the possibility of him actually voicing her worst fear.
‘Your worst fear …’ she said to her reflection, wishing she could stop thinking about what she’d overheard.
Her worst fear was that her husband had not married her out of love. Her worst fear was that Jake had married her out of pity; the ugly duckling, the plain Jane who never turned heads at social gatherings like her taller, blonder, skinnier counterparts from other wealthy, well-to-do families.
Jake, like her brother, had no shortage of female admirers. Sometimes she watched him sleeping and wondered what he was doing married to her. At least she knew it wasn’t the old scenario that he’d married her for her money. Jake would always have been part of the family, and the family money, whether he’d married her or not.
Eleanor reached up and undid her ponytail, letting her mass of dark brown hair fall to her shoulders. She pinched a plump cheek and smoothed a bushy eyebrow. To her father, she was an angel. To her mother, she was a disappointment. But what was she to Jake? Had he married her to please her father? Eleanor needed to know. It wasn’t just her own future in the balance, but that of her child.
For all her mother’s faults – and in Eleanor’s eyes, she had a multitude – Eleanor and her brother, Marcus, had not grown up in the midst of a loveless marriage. Her father loved her mother dearly; of that there was no doubt. And that was what Eleanor wanted for her own child. She couldn’t believe, after five years of marriage, that she was questioning Jake’s motives for marrying her. But she was.
Eleanor took one final look at her reflection in the mirror, then stood up and walked to the door. She flung it open and stared at the back of Jake’s head.
‘Jake.’ She walked towards the sofa.
He didn’t turn around to acknowledge her presence.
‘I overheard what you said to Aubrey.’ She continued before she lost her nerve. ‘I need to know, Jake …’ She paused, staring at the top of Jake’s head, wondering if she could face him while she spoke. She decided she could not, so she stopped just behind the sofa.
‘I need to know if what Aubrey said is true,’ she hesitated, ‘about the reasons you married me.’
Eleanor stood stock-still, holding her breath, waiting for a response. When he didn’t answer, she stormed around the front of the sofa. ‘Well?’ she said, folding her arms and walking right up to stand in front of him.
Jake’s eyes were closed, his mouth half-open. He was breathing heavily. One hand lay limply on his chest. He was still holding a crystal glass in the other hand, which was resting on the seat next to him. The glass had tipped and spread a dark stain across the cream sofa cushion.
Eleanor knelt down in front of Jake, took the empty glass out of his hand and placed it on the coffee table. Then she looked Jake over. A dark shadow encased both his eyes. Eleanor couldn’t remember the last time he hadn’t looked exhausted. She reached out a tentative hand, running her fingers along his forehead and down his cheek. He stirred but did not wake.
Who would have thought the shy, gangly kid she had once known would turn into such a good-looking guy? She wondered whether that was the real problem in their relationship; that he was the looker and she was not. She didn’t like these uncharacteristic feelings of jealousy that engulfed her when another woman looked his way.
Eleanor sat on the sofa next to him. It was late, but she was wide awake. She was never going to get to sleep now.
‘Eleanor.’ Jake shook her arm gently and stroked her hair. She was out like a light. Jake’s arm felt numb, but he couldn’t prise himself from beneath her weight. He had woken up to find he was lying flat on his back on the sofa with Eleanor beside him. Her head was on his shoulder, her arm lay casually across his chest, and his arm was wedged between her and the sofa back. He wanted to look at his wristwatch. The winter sun was streaming through the blinds. He guessed it was late – well past 6.30 am – and he really needed to be in the office early to get his work completed before the Christmas break. He kissed the top of Eleanor’s head. He didn’t want to wake her, but had no choice. ‘Eleanor,’ he said softly in her ear.
She stirred. ‘What is it?’ her muffled voice spoke into his neck.
‘Darling, I need you to get up.’ Jake kept trying to lift his hand, attempting to get a look at his watch to see how late he was running.
Eleanor rubbed her eyes.
Jake smiled at her. ‘Morning.’
‘Morning.’
He felt her body move against his as she lifted her head, taking in the sofa and Jake lying beneath her.
‘I don’t know what we got up to last night,’ said Jake, registering her surprise at their novel sleeping arrangements, ‘but this was cosy. Almost like old times.’
He’d noticed the distance between them recently. Perhaps it was his busy work schedule, or the toll that unsuccessfully trying for a baby had taken on them. But that was all behind them now. Perhaps this was the start of things going back to the way they had been when they first married – that young couple, deeply in love, spending good times together.
‘Darling, my arm,’ Jake waved his hand behind her back.
Eleanor moved, resting more of her weight on Jake while he looked at his watch. ‘Thank god.’
‘What is it?’
‘It’s only 6 am. I’m not late.’ Instead of plopping her head back on his shoulder as he expected, she sat up abruptly and climbed over Jake without a word.
‘I don’t have to be in the office until seven,’ he said, hoping she would come back. She didn’t. The bathroom door clicked shut and that was the last Jake saw of her before leaving for his final day at work before the holidays. The next day would be Christmas Eve.