before, although Jordan judged it to be because of how she was dressed – a long coated white trouser suit with a floppy-brimmed matching white hat – and so perfectly made up, the too bright red lipstick replaced by paler pink, the colour to her face more natural than applied. She accepted the champagne and extended the flute for the glass-touching toast and said, ‘I almost didn’t come again but now I have I’m glad and it’s good to see you.’
‘And I’m even more confused than ever,’ said Jordan.
‘Which I guess I am, too. And don’t want to be, not any longer.’
‘Then I’m glad I made the trip here because I don’t want any more confusion or misunderstandings,’ said Jordan. ‘From this moment on I want both of us to understand everything, know everything about the other, although I’m not sure it’s going to come out as straight as I want it to.’
‘You sure about that, my darling?’
Jordan smiled at the word, the relief surging through him. ‘I think so… I think I know so.’
‘And I think I should speak first, before-’ started Alyce.
‘No!’ refused Jordan. ‘You spoke ahead of me when we said goodbye in France and I stupidly agreed because I didn’t understand… didn’t know… and I’m not going to let it happen again. Nothing’s going to be easy, because of what and who you are and because of what I am, although what I am – really am – isn’t going to be any barrier because I’m all set for another career change that’s going to get that out of the way. I love you, which is something I never thought I’d ever tell anyone again. I want us to be together. Married together, although God knows how that’s going to happen but I’ll make it happen. I guess you’ll want to continue living here – working here -which is fine. And I don’t want you to imagine I want to live off you and your money and your position. I’ve got a lot of money… enough money… and we can give all yours to yet another charity. And-’
‘Stop!’ insisted Alyce. ‘Please stop! I don’t want you to go on misunderstanding… saying things I don’t want to hear you say, although I do want to hear you say them-’
‘You’re not making sense,’ halted Jordan, in turn.
‘Then let me,’ pleaded Alyce. ‘Let me talk, try to explain as best I can, without stopping me. Without stopping me and hating me because I never want you to hate me, not now and not ever. I know who you are, Harvey. Know what you are. Which means I know what you’ve done to Alfred. How I guessed you paid all the bills and didn’t want my money
…’ She stopped, gulping too deeply at her drink and having to cough when it caught her breath.
‘I tricked you, my darling,’ she started again. ‘Tricked you and now I am so very, very sorry. I never intended it to happen, none of it. I never imagined Alfred would invoke that stupid fucking criminal conversation claim; never thought I’d ever see you again, which made everything worse, because I wanted to, so much, after France.’
‘You’re not-’ Jordan started again but sharply she interrupted him.
‘No! I’ve got to finish because I don’t think I can say it all a second time. Of course I knew Alfred was having me watched here because I was having him watched long before he put his private detectives on to me. I knew all about Sharon Borowski and Leanne Jefferies, and had two other women if I needed to cite them. But here, in America, he was getting too close. He had to be diverted, get the co-respondent he needed for the divorce. Which is why I went to France and found you. You were only ever supposed to be a necessary name to get him to pull his people off. I didn’t even know of something called criminal conversation. Or guess in a million years that you would fight it. Never thought I’d ever see you again although by the time I flew back I wanted to, so very much…’
Jordan took advantage of another gulped drink. ‘How do you know what I do?’
‘That extra week, when I extended the vacation? That was to get my own enquiry people to France: those I’d personally employed to watch Alfred, not the DKK agency that Bob engaged.’ She sniggered a humourless laugh. ‘You know why I did it? I did it because I really didn’t want you to get in the situation you ended up in. But you confused us so much, back in England. Changing from Harvey Jordan to Peter Thomas Wightman. It didn’t take long to work out why, though. Then we thought you’d caught us out, all those evasion tricks when you went back to your own apartment…’ She raised her hand towards him. ‘Don’t worry, darling. What you did when you got back to England wasn’t breaking any American law, not that I’d have blown the whistle on you if it did. And I’m certainly not going to tell anyone about what you’ve done to Alfred.’
‘You keep calling me darling.’
‘Why do you think I wore that stupid plastic ring all the time, after you gave it to me… even wore it back here on the plane? I loved you by then… like I love you now. Which is why I’m going to end it now and marry Walter, who’s kind and gentle and who I came to France to protect from Alfred’s people. And who I think I love enough, just enough, to marry.’
‘No!’ refused Jordan. ‘We could make something work. I don’t know what or how but there’ll be some way…’
Alyce shook her head. ‘It might have worked, maybe, if Alfred hadn’t sued for criminal conversation. And if you hadn’t beat him in court, as you did. Somehow, somewhen, it would come out if we got together. And when it did Alfred would have every grounds for appealing the court’s decision. Alfred would employ every private detective he could, although he wouldn’t need many to show your photograph to the banks in which you opened the accounts in his name and the realtor from whom you leased the apartment on West 72nd Street that all the newspapers have identified, would it? And then you’d go to prison – which I couldn’t bear – and all the Bellamy Foundations and trusts would be disgraced because I’d be linked – possibly even charged with complicity with you – and I couldn’t expose the family to that, as much as I love you. It’s over, my darling. It’s got to be over. We got too clever, both of us. And ended up beating ourselves.’
Jordan reclined the back of the First Class seat and adjusted the eye shades against being disturbed by the cabin staff, even though he’d already told the supervisor he didn’t want anything to eat or drink, just to be left alone. Which he was, he acknowledged; alone again, with only himself to consider or think of, which he’d once considered the perfect way to be, but didn’t any more.
Alyce was right, of course. He’d known that all the time he’d argued with her – close to pleading with her – that they could work out a way to stay together, be happy together, to her head-shaking adamant refusal that they’d end up hating each other, unable to hide from Appleton. Which meant, he supposed, that in a way Appleton had won, after all. Too convoluted, Jordan corrected himself: too much self-pity. He had to accept what had happened – not yet, but eventually – and move on, as he’d eventually moved on after that other long ago collapse into self-pity.
Except that he didn’t want to. The sudden awareness surprised Jordan; confused him even and he forced himself to confront exactly what it was he didn’t want any more To go on as he was, doing what he did, he answered himself, further surprised at another potential, self-imposed upheaval in his life. What life? he asked himself, continuing the personal analysis. What – where – was the life in becoming someone with a different name every two or three months, turning some poor bastard’s existence on its head as his had been turned by what had just happened to him? Compartmentalizing everything between himself and Alyce, Jordan recognized he’d been lucky escaping as he had, remaining undiscovered for what he was by Appleton’s surveillance team. Harvey Jordan, the man who never gambled, acknowledged that his luck couldn’t last.
What could – would – he do then? Not a decision to be rushed, although he’d once done well enough running his own legitimate computer programming business and there was more than sufficient money squirreled away in Jersey to start again. There was no need or reason to rush the decision, he thought again. Maybe something to think about, refine in detail, on another vacation. But then again, maybe not: the vacation that is, not the detailed consideration on his future. The weather in the South of France was uncertain in October.
He slept dreamlessly and undisturbed during the flight and disembarked in London actually excited at the thought of doing something new. The immigration officer was a blonde girl who reminded him vaguely of Alyce. She looked between him and his passsport photograph and said, ‘Harvey Jordan?’
‘Yes,’ he replied, to his own satisfaction. ‘Very definitely Harvey Jordan.’
