Misspent Youth

26. END OF A BEAUTIFUL ARRANGEMENT

IT WAS HALF PAST FIVE in the afternoon when the computer informed Jeff he had an incoming call from James. Did he want to receive it?

Jeff sat back in the black leather chair, putting his hands behind his head. He could hear tiny cracking noises as his shoulders stretched. “Let it through.”

There was an intricate molecular structure playing on the desk’s main screen, coiled streamers burning green and tangerine like alien DNA. The arrangement was one of the latest nano filaments produced by Caltech, which he was studying to see how much progress they’d made on bonding alignments. It was replaced by James’s chubby features.

“My God, I actually got through,” James muttered; it wasn’t entirely good humored.

“Sorry. I’ve been getting myself back up to speed on the superconductor project. There’s a lot of techniques I need to learn about.”

“Well, I hope Martina Lewis appreciates the effort.”

“Who?”

“The one down at Knightsbridge.”

“Oh, her.” Jeff flinched a smile. “Yeah, right.”

“Jesus, Jeff. You forgetting their names already?”

“Not with everybody reminding me, no.”

“Ah. How is Sue?”

Jeff pulled a face. “Unhappy. Is that what you called to ask?”

“No, actually. If she ever allows you out again, Alan and I were going to meet up on Thursday for a pint. Strictly boys only; you can tell her she has my word on that. You game for it?”

It was the third time Alan and James had asked him out over the last week. Each time he’d refused. This was going beyond impolite. “Ah crap, no, I’ve got a whole load of teleconferences with the Americans on Thursday. Can’t make it, sorry.”

James stared at the top of the screen, where his return camera was. “Okay, Jeff,” he said in a level voice. “When you want to come out with us, you give us a call.”

“Sure. Won’t be long. Just got a bit of a backlog on right now.”

James’s image vanished.

“Bugger it,” Jeff muttered. He’d invested decades in those friendships. It was painful for him to watch antagonism and hurt erode them away. But he simply couldn’t stand another miserable night in the pub listening to the same conversation they’d had for the last twenty years being replayed with tiny variants. Not again.

One thing was for certain, he needed to get laid, but good.

He told the Europol team to get ready for an evening in Peterborough. Tim had said there were plenty of clubs there. A girl for the night would be easy enough if Martina Lewis was anything to go by.

SUE FOUND HIM as he was getting dressed for a night clubbing. He’d already chosen loose cream trousers, a geometricist’s ideal of a Hawaiian shirt in black and chrome yellow, gray jacket with a contemporary cut so it didn’t meet across the front. Which just left him puzzling over which shoes to wear when she rapped lightly on the door frame and walked into his bedroom.

“Off out?” she asked.

“Yeah, I thought I would.” His voice came over as too defensive.

“I thought we should talk, but it can wait a while.”

“No, that’s all right.” He abandoned the shoes and sat on the edge of the bed.

Sue came over and sat beside him. She was very prim and composed, a light mauve cardigan drawn around her white blouse; long ocher skirt. “It’s not working, is it, me being here?”

“I was stupid,” he blurted. “She was young, and eager, and I was by myself, and it was easy. That sounds so old, I know. But that’s the truth of it.”

She gave him a sorrowful little look. “Maybe that’s the way it was that night. But if it hadn’t have been then, it would have been another night. I think that’s what upset me the most. Me of all people, I should have known better.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You and I. It was only ever sex. This time round. I mean, were you really expecting us to stay together for another fifty years till death do us part?”

“I don’t know. I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“I have…. Well, I have now. Let’s face it, we barely made it through the last nineteen years, and we only managed that because we didn’t spend any time together. All we did was live under the same roof occasionally, which meant we could be polite when we did bump into each other. That’s how we survived so long, no emotional entanglement.”

“You’re being too negative.”

Her hand rubbed his leg. It was as if she was stroking a pet. “Did you love me, Jeff, nineteen years ago? Were you smitten and besotted, and ready to lay down your life for me?”

“You know why we got together back then.”

“I do. And I’m not saying it was a bad thing. We both got Tim out of it, even though he’s more yours than mine. But it was never meant to last. We would have shaken hands and finished in a civilized fashion; then this treatment came along and buggered our arrangement to hell.”

“Men and women can never be friends. Good quote.”

“What?”

“It’s a line from When Harry Met Sally. Billy Crystal, he said men and women can never be just friends—the bloke always wants to sleep with the girl. I think he might be right.”

“You certainly did, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” He sighed. “Like you said, everything changed.”

“I can’t believe I was so stupid. Sex always ruins everything.”

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad while it lasted.”

Sue glanced around at the big bed that they’d shared all too briefly. “All four nights of it.”

“I don’t regret it.”

“I do. I kidded myself that it meant something. That it might be the start, not the finish.”

“It still could be. We’re grown-ups, we can work round Martina Lewis.”

“And Nicole? And Patrick?”

“We were good together. You know it.”

“In bed, yes. But be honest, Jeff, what else is there? Don’t you want someone you can talk to about your work? Someone who’ll be sparky and intellectual, and challenge your ideas, and appreciate them. I can’t even spell quantum mechanics, Jeff.”

“Don’t do that, not ever, don’t sell yourself short.”

“I’m not. That’s what makes this the hardest part of all. I was just a shadow of a person when you met me; I had no self-esteem, I couldn’t look after myself, I was a complete and utter mess. Well, I’ve grown up from that silly little girl, Jeff. I’ve learned how to be a fully fledged modern bitch, which is the only survival trait that counts in this world. I can swim with the sharks now, and they’ll be the ones who get scared when I’m in the water. What I cannot be is your trophy wife, not anymore. It didn’t matter before, when there was no sex. But now there is, and I’m not going to wait loyally at home while you shag everything in a skirt so you can try out your new body. And I know enough about men to know how strong that temptation is for you. So the way we are today just can’t exist. That was my mistake, I fooled myself into believing it could out of pure sentiment. Sex stopped me thinking straight; but then I never claimed to be that smart.”

“All right,” he said, though it was a bitter defeat. “So where do we go from here?”

“The way we always said we would. I kiss you and Tim good-bye, and that contract we signed takes care of me financially.”

“Just like that?”

“Don’t go all sullen on me. Let’s see if we can prove Billy Crystal wrong. I’d like us to stay in touch; Tim, too, if he’ll ever speak to me again.”

“You’re his mother.”

“I know.”

He found it hard to believe they were being so casual about an event so enormous. “So, when will you go?” he asked unsteadily.

“My bags are packed.”

“All of them?”

She smiled at the involuntary high note of surprise in his voice. “No. Enough clothes for a week or so. I’ll collect the rest later, when I’ve found somewhere to live.”

“Aren’t you going to use the flat?”

“I will to start with. But I want somewhere of my own eventually.”

“Ah. Right. Have you got somewhere in mind?”

“I don’t know. I’ve got a lot of friends down in London. Or maybe I’ll make a clean break. Cornwall is lovely these days, almost the same climate as the Mediterranean used to have.”

“What about your mother?”

Sue’s brittle cheerfulness faltered. “I don’t know. It depends where I end up. I’ll have to have her close by, and I don’t suppose the location matters to her.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to give it one last try?”

“Don’t be so gallant. You know this is the only option.”

“So who gets to tell Tim?”

“I suppose we’d better do it together.”