Chapter 22 #2
En route, I use the time to make hands-free calls, postponing all of Anders's external meetings.
I'll handle his internal ones later. Feeling like a burglar, I let myself into his home.
First, I head for his office. Smauglette is sunning herself under her basking lamp and ignores my presence entirely.
The room looks much as it did the last time I was here.
I look around for sensible places he might store important documents.
There's a small, wheeled cabinet under his desk.
I try that first. Mercifully, it's unlocked, and there in the top drawer, on top of some papers, is his passport. I snatch it up and hurry to the bedroom. Weirdly, this room is more familiar than his office. It wasn’t long ago I was naked and writhing on that bed.
I know exactly where to find his socks and underwear, T-shirts and jeans.
In the bottom of one wardrobe is a bag, the kind you might take to the gym or a yoga class.
It will do. I shove in as many clothes as I can fit and leave, carefully locking up behind me.
Next, I head to Athertons, our lawyers. Could I have called their reception and had Anders dragged out of the meeting?
Yes. But this sort of news is best delivered in person.
Did I want to be with him when I gave it to him?
Yes. Besides, he would still need his passport and clothes and this way I can take him to the airport. I can be with him. I can support him.
The lawyers' offices are in one of those parts of London where elegant Georgian and Victorian terraces have been replaced by bland multi-storey concrete and glass.
I park as close as I can in an underground garage, paying the astronomical charge.
When I emerge blinking into the daylight, the streets are quiet; everybody's at work.
It takes me five minutes to reach my destination.
At the reception desk, I ask for the paralegal I've often dealt with.
She appears shortly after. I hoped she would recognise my name and know I represent a client.
Without going into specifics, I stress there is an emergency and I need to find my boss.
She nods and leads me to a bank of elevators.
My fingers tap on my thigh as we wait for the lift.
When we reach the correct floor, she guides me down a corridor with glass panels on either side until we reach a conference room.
I can see Anders sitting at the table, flanked by Piotr and Scarlett.
When the paralegal taps on the glass, all heads turn.
Most look confused by my arrival; Scarlett and Piotr frown.
Anders's head tilts in question. There must be a reason I’m here.
At a nod from the man at the head of the table, the paralegal pushes the door ajar, just enough for me to step into the entrance.
“I apologise for interrupting,” I say, “but I'm afraid I need to speak to Mr Anderson urgently.”
Anders stands. “Please carry on without me.” The door falls closed behind him, trapping sound in the room. The paralegal retreats to give us privacy and I find myself face to face with my lover.
I can't give him this news without physical contact. Taking his hands, I hold them in mine and raise my eyes to his. I open my heart, hoping he can feel the love.
“Cora, what is it?”
Bad news never arrives completely unannounced. There are flags: my presence, my expression, and now my words. “Your mother called,” I say. I pause to let it sink in. “Your father is in hospital. They think it's a heart attack.”
Anders looks stunned. He doesn't speak. I give him time. Eventually he manages: “Are you sure?”
“She's been trying to call you.”
He drops my hands to fish out his phone. Dozens of missed calls and messages. “I…,” he starts. “I have to go.”
“I know,” I say. “I'm here to drive you to the airport. I've booked you a flight.”
“I haven't got my passport.”
I wince. “I know it was a liberty, and I know I overstepped but I sort of broke into your place and fetched it. Also, I packed you some clothes.”
His forehead drops to mine, our noses touching. His hands grip the tops of my arms. We stand there for a moment, like I’m the rock he’s clinging to. Then he whispers, “Thank you, Cora.” His hands drop away. “We need to go.”
He pushes back through the door. Piotr, who was speaking, falls silent.
Scarlett looks shocked; I guess she was watching Anders and me through the glass.
We were unguarded in that moment. Our intimacy was unmistakable.
She knows we're involved but it can't be helped.
I would not have denied Anders any comfort I could give.
As soon as he's made his apologies and collected his belongings, we leave.
He takes my hand. His grip is tight. Until he can speak to one of his family, he will be fearing the worst. The paralegal guides us back out of the building and at the exit, we both thank her.
The moment we're outside, Anders calls his mother, but her phone goes to voicemail.
He leaves a message: I'm coming home. Then he cycles through her earlier messages, but they're all the same: Call me.
He tries his sister too, but her phone is engaged. He leaves the same message.
I take his hand again. “Modern medicine is very good. I’m sure your father will recover.” I reassure him. He doesn’t answer but his hand tightens on mine.
When we reach Stormfly, I give him his passport and start the car. His head falls back against the seat. His eyes close and I can see the exhaustion in his face. He swallows. “This couldn’t have come at a worse time.”