‘Oh Mom!’ Jazzy paled and held Colette’s hand in a vice-grip. ‘Is he going to die?’
‘Of course not! We wouldn’t be sitting here if he was. He’ll be fine,’ Colette said reassuringly. ‘Lennox Hill has a good name for cardiology. He’ll just have to start living a healthier lifestyle and cut down on his work, I expect.’
‘Can I go and see him?’ Jazzy jumped up from the table.
‘I’m just heading over myself with a case for him. I used a Town Car today. I told the driver to give us until two, so relax and finish your wine.’
‘Mom, you should have told me. I would have come to the hospital,’ Jazzy remonstrated, sitting down again.
‘You were in a nightclub,’ Colette pointed out. ‘You wouldn’t even have heard your phone, and besides there was no point in the two of us hanging around waiting. If your dad had been critical of course I would have left a message, but he wasn’t.’
‘Oh poor, poor Dad!’ Jazzy started to cry.
Colette handed her a tissue. ‘Shush, sweetie, he’ll be fine. Come on, it’s almost two anyway. Put your jacket on and let’s go and see him.’
The black sedan was waiting when they emerged onto the pavement and they settled back in the luxurious interior for the fifteen-minute drive uptown along Madison.
‘Daddy, Daddy!’ Jasmine flew into her father’s arms when they entered Des’s room.
‘Hey, baby!’ Des broke into a smile when he saw her and hugged her as best he could with the IV drip taped into his hand, and his heart monitors on his chest.
‘Dad, what happened? Is it painful?’ Jazzy asked, concern etched across her features.
‘It was a bit when it happened, but not now. I have a respiratory infection though so that’s going to delay things a bit. I’ve to have a triple bypass,’ he said, glancing at his wife over his daughter’s shoulder.
‘Omigod!’ Jazzy was horrified.
‘That’s very routine surgery these days, Jazzy, a dime a dozen. It sounds worse than it is,’ Colette said matter-of-factly. ‘I’ll just unpack your case, Des.’ She didn’t even look at him, engrossing herself with hanging up his dressing gown and pyjamas in the closet.
‘Did you bring my phone and charger?’ He lay back against his pillows.
‘Yes. I just brought the BlackBerry. If you want the iPhone, that’s in your briefcase. I can bring that too,’ she said pointedly. ‘Although there’s no need for you to have two in here now.’ Des flushed under his pallor but was saved from responding by the arrival of a nurse to do his TPR check.
‘By the way, Hilary’s coming over to stay with me for a few days, to support me,’ Colette remarked casually when the nurse had filled in the chart and left.
‘That’s brilliant, Mom. I won’t have to worry about you, or come and stay with you, then. I would have if you’d needed me,’ Jazzy declared, relieved that she wouldn’t have to leave the comfort of her boyfriend’s arms to nursemaid her mother at night.
‘You don’t have to worry about me at all, sweetie,’ Colette said drily. Jazzy could be decidedly self-centred and did not like to be put out. They had raised a spoilt child, she admitted.
‘So where were you when you had the heart attack? Were you at home? Did you pass out? Did you think you were going to die and see your life passing in front of you?’ Jazzy wanted the gory details.
‘Eh . . . not exactly,’ Des fudged, looking at Colette.
Colette stared back at him coldly.
‘Hey, you two! What’s up? There’s definitely an atmosphere.’ Jazzy stared from one to the other. ‘You didn’t even kiss Dad, Mum. What’s going on here?’
An awkward silence descended on the room. Des looked to Colette for support. But she couldn’t give it. It was too difficult to play happy families. She just couldn’t carry it off. Seeing Des in his hospital bed had not elicited sympathy, just fury and more fury, which she was finding hard to suppress. Helena Dupree’s revelations about Mamie Winston had put the iron in her soul. Colette wanted out, now, before the cat was out of the bag. She wanted to go on her terms and not have people talking about them and their altered circumstances behind her back. ‘I suppose you might as well tell Jazzy where you were when you had your attack. She’s going to find out soon enough anyway,’ she said flatly.
‘Daddy . . . Mommy, what’s going on?’ Jazzy asked agitatedly as the realization hit that something was seriously amiss. Colette remained mute. She was damned if she was telling Jazzy. Des could break the news of his betrayal himself.
‘Daddy?’ Jazzy persisted anxiously.
‘I was with another woman,’ Des muttered. Jazzy paled and stared at him, speechless.
‘Where, who?’ she eventually demanded.
‘Battery Park City. She’s . . . ah . . . someone I know through work.’
‘Did you know Dad was having an affair? How long has this being going on?’ Jasmine jumped to her feet, glaring at Colette.
‘What do you think? The answer is no, and I have no idea,’ Colette retorted angrily, picking up her bag. ‘I’m going now,’ she said tightly, afraid she would lose control and erupt into a furious rant. ‘I have to call in to the gallery.’
‘Mom, are you OK?’ Jazzy’s face betrayed her shock and she dissolved into tears.
Colette’s fury melted when she saw her distressed daughter. ‘Darling, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. Stay here with your dad for a while and we’ll talk later.’ She hugged her daughter and patted her on the back until Jazzy composed herself, then kissed her on the cheek, and walked out without a backwards look at her husband.
It was a cruel way for Jasmine to find out about her father’s
