The Witness: A Novel (56 page)

Summer in Kent felt like early spring in Texas. Colin took her past the cultivated gardens near the house, through the greenhouse, and down to the stables, empty during his lifetime, because there were such long periods when the house was vacant. They made a long circuit through groves of trees. She could identify only the oaks and sycamores. Colin had to point out the rest: walnuts, hawthorns, chestnuts, and yews. Willows—very different from the weeping willows with which Jenny was familiar—and poplars. How far did the property extend? She saw no fences.

After a soup-and-salad lunch, they exited the house and walked in the other direction. “Now you know why I live where I do,” he told her. “The Heath reminds me of home.” They sat down beside the duck pond and watched the swimmers glide past. “Jenny, I want you to know—I have resources beyond my police salary. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll give it to you.”

“Has this property been in your family a long time?”

“Generations.”

“It will all be yours?”

“It’s mine now. Upon my death it will belong to my children, if I have any. If not, to my sister’s children.”

“Do you want children?”

“Yes, very much.”

“Colin, I’m a commoner. What in the world are you doing with me?”

“Jenny, I’m a policeman. What are you doing with me?”

“Looking for a new life.”

His blue eyes spoke of cloudless days. “I can grant that wish, Jenny.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

D
inner was served in the formal dining room, its serenity the closest to a true British ambience that Jenny could imagine. Ivory, pale gray, and almond had been blended throughout, so the only colors in the room came from the decorative plates on the shelves, the food, the wine, and Colin’s eyes. He took her hand before asking the Anglican blessing: “Our heavenly Father, we thank Thee for all the blessings of this life, and ask Thee to make us ever mindful of and responsive to the needs of others.” Joanne used her gold and white china, and Jenny thought that she—or Agnes—could teach Brian a thing or two: carrot soup with orange zest was followed by mixed salad and sorbet. The main course was roast pork, served with apples and sugar-snap peas.

Joanne entertained them throughout with stories of life abroad. Often you couldn’t communicate with your foreign cook, she said, so

you mastered a few basic recipes and demonstrated how to make them: one with chicken, one meatless casserole, and a plethora of rice recipes, because rice didn’t spoil. “I’m never making another fruit mousse,” she laughed. “We’re having raspberry tarts instead. I’ve made mango mousse, apricot mousse, peach mousse, you name it—I learnt the art of substitution.”

After-dinner coffee came in
demitasse
cups with a small square of fudge on the saucer.

“You
had
to have people in,” Joanne continued, “no matter what foods you were lacking or how many place settings you had to borrow from the neighbours, because you wanted to make friends. When the children were with us, I made friends through them, but when they went back to England to boarding school, I joined the women’s club. There were exercise classes, arts and crafts, even foreign languages, although for some reason the language of the host country was rarely offered.”

“Was it hard to send your children away?” Jenny asked.

“Oh, yes, but they came for holidays, and of course we had annual leave. It was more difficult seeing the conditions the local children endured. We all participated in charitable projects, but you could not impact their poverty in any meaningful way.”

“How long were your husband’s postings?”

“On paper four years each, but in practice that varied widely. Some of the places where we lived were lovely, but we always shared our house with some sort of creature—in fact, many times I think the creatures shared their house with us! I enjoyed our time abroad, but I was always glad to come home.” She smiled. “Colin’s rolling his eyes at me. Time for me to stop my chatter.”

Jenny and Colin helped with the washing up. “Sunday dinner’s at midday,” Joanne said. “I’ll finish here.”

Colin sent Jenny for her sweater, then took her hand and led her outside. The night was clear, and the stars so bright that she felt she could feel their warmth. No, it must have come from Colin’s kisses.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“
H
ow did you do it?” Jenny wanted to know over the Sunday meal. “Move so many times, start over so many times?”

They had finished the watercress soup and were savoring roast lamb with mint sauce, fresh asparagus, and baked tomatoes. Joanne had explained the trinity that underlay most soups and sauces in England: carrots, onions, and potatoes.

“COP,” Jenny laughed. She countered with the southwestern trio of bell pepper, onion, and garlic.

Colin leant back in his chair and watched the two women bond. It was what he had hoped for. His ex-wife had never been interested in his mother’s stories. Violet—tall, slender, blonde, an only child who
thought his choice of profession was exotic and assumed he’d settle down eventually into a more socially acceptable role. In point of fact, she was grooming him to work with her father, who had a very successful distillery and no sons to take it on when he retired. She had misjudged him. They had misjudged each other, actually.

“I took my faith with me, but sometimes I thought I would wear my sense of humour out,” Joanne said. “There were negatives about every locale but compensations, too—things that helped you look past your immediate circumstances, like a beautiful countryside or adventures that kept your heart in your throat.”

“I’ve had a few of those,” Jenny admitted, and Colin was amazed that she had referred to her experience, however obliquely.

“Friendships formed in adversity, last,” Joanne said. “Besides—I mastered Scrabble! One of the few games you could play by candlelight, when the power had failed.”

“And your husband?”

“Cam loved what he was doing, and I loved him. I would have followed him anywhere.” She paused, running her finger across the wedding band she still wore. “I did follow him, everywhere I could. This last time—I couldn’t go where he went.”

Jenny’s throat was tight. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I cry so easily now.”

“Some things are worth crying about, aren’t they?” Joanne answered gently. She glanced at her son, whose eyes were on Jenny. He wants to go to her, and I should make myself scarce and let him. “Pudding coming straightaway,” she said and took a bit longer in the kitchen than was necessary. Jenny was the first girl Colin had spoken of—not to mention, brought home—since that minx Violet had left him. She had never loved Violet, but she wished Jenny had some of her self-assurance. Colin was clearly enthralled with her, and she was so tentative.

The final course was fresh strawberries with a vanilla cream sauce that Jenny found delicious. When Joanne confessed that it was an upscale brand of vanilla ice cream, melted, they laughed almost until they cried. Of course, the wine that had been consumed during the feast might have had something to do with it, as well as the loving acceptance that Joanne brought to every meal she served.

They lingered over their coffee, and Colin thought again about how different Jenny was from his ex-wife. Violet had always been in a hurry to leave his mother’s table, remaining only as long as was necessary to fulfil her familial commitment. Her bag would have been packed long ago, and only her extraordinary self-discipline would have kept her from drumming her fingers in her lap. He saw Jenny smile and touch his mother’s hand and knew he could forgive Vi now.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

J
enny was quiet on the drive back to Hampstead. She had a new list for her journal:
Things I Learned from Colin’s Mother. Family matters most
was the first item, followed by,
Having friends helps
. So many more, though:
Be resourceful; Take the long view; Starting over is a part of life and not necessarily a bad thing
; and,
Happiness can be found anywhere if you love the man you’re with
. She’d learned why Colin wasn’t affected by the disorder around him—as a child, there had been chaos in nearly every third world country they’d lived in. Corruption was rife in countries with unstable political systems. No wonder he was so committed to the process of justice now!

Joanne kept a journal, too, filled with simple sketches of recreational activities she’d shared with her children. She’d given Jenny a drawing of a preadolescent Colin flying a kite, one of the last times he’d been unrestrained, she said, because after he’d started boarding school, he’d been so serious about modelling adult behaviour. She’d also presented her with a photograph of him in his constable’s uniform, taken just after he’d completed the introductory course of instruction at the academy. With a hug and a promise to invite Colin’s sister, Jillian, and her family the next time Jenny came, she had let them go.

J
enny woke up thinking about Colin’s caresses. She had wanted more. She dressed, wondering as she donned each item what it would feel like when he removed it. A whole new set of feelings welled up inside her: excitement, joy, anticipation. She was giddy, laughing out loud, wanting to celebrate because she was in love. Should she call him? No, this was too big a deal for that—and besides, she wanted to see his face when she told him. And if they were together, then physical love would follow. Wouldn’t it? That was scary, but thrilling too. She decided to get a bottle of wine. She could find her way to the High Street; there was bound to be a place there that would have some. After dinner she’d ask him to open it and she’d tell him how she felt, if she could wait that long! She picked up the keys and left the flat.

It was the first time she had been out by herself. The High Street hadn’t seemed far when she had been with Colin, but now each step led her farther from the safety of his flat. She didn’t find a liquor store or grocery right away and had to ask at the bookstore where the closest supermarket was. Sainsbury’s, she was told, on Finchley Road. She didn’t know where that was, so she bought a map of Hampstead.

That almost defeated her. She’d have to retrace her steps to Colin’s flat and then start out in another direction. She tried to recapture her happy feelings but succeeded only in feeling exposed. No one was paying any attention to her, she was sure, but nevertheless she hurried.

The store was crowded, and there were long shelves of wine. First she had daydreamed the time away, then she had gone the wrong way, and now she was rooted to the spot, not being able to choose from the many varieties. She remembered some of the names from her list of
Wines I Have Enjoyed With Colin
, but there were so many brands which bore those titles. She closed her eyes and purchased the one her outstretched fingers touched.

Now all she had to do was follow the map to Colin’s and she’d be home free. Her first solo flight—she’d been scared, but she had done it! When she let herself into the flat, Colin was already there. She had wanted the wine to be a surprise, but he came toward her immediately.

“Where have you been?”

He didn’t sound happy. She was startled and short of breath.

“You went out by yourself? For
wine?
” His voice was rising. “We shopped yesterday. How could you do such a thing? What were you thinking?”

Her mouth dropped open. He was angry!

“Answer me!” he yelled. “Why would you take such a risk?”

“What—what risk?” she stammered.

“What risk? Damn it, Jenny!” He shook his head in frustration.

“Colin, you’re scaring me.” She gripped the bottle of wine tightly. Her mind said, he won’t hurt you. Her body said, run! No, she thought, I am not retreating.

He turned aside, took several deep breaths, and ran his fingers through his hair. “What have I done?” he said to himself. He turned back and held up his hands, the fingers spread in a gesture of concession. “Sorry. I just reacted.” He let his hands fall to his sides. “Jenny, could we sit down and talk about this?”

She waited until he was seated before occupying the other armchair. She was still holding the bottle of wine. She rested it in her lap, one hand on the neck. The sofa separated them. Now that the shock of his anger had passed, she felt only a sense of sadness.

“Jenny, I was afraid for you. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself. I’m terribly concerned for your safety.”

She tried to clear her throat. “Why? It’s over. Isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer right away, and her dread deepened. She had thought her fear was irrational. “I don’t know,” he said finally. “When Scott’s verdict was read, he threatened you. I’ve heard other threats made in anger, but none had the intensity of this one. I didn’t think I should take it lightly.”

The fear in her chest had nothing to do with Colin now.

“Jenny—when you were in protection, things happened on the outside, things that would have frightened you. You had been through so much. We wanted to protect you in every way we could, so we didn’t tell you everything. Please understand.”

“That was then. Now we are supposed to be equals. How—if you love me—could you bring me back to danger?”

Her words cut him to the quick. “It was one of the most selfish things I have ever done.”

“How bad is it?”

“Revenge is a powerful force. It’s possible I overreacted, however. Protecting you has become a habit, but the more time that passes, the less likely any retaliation will be.” He noticed suddenly the bottle in her lap. “Why did you buy the wine, Jenny?”

She looked at it as if it were a foreign thing. “It doesn’t matter now.” She put the bottle on the floor.

He stood slowly. “Will you let me hold you?”

She felt his arms around her and discovered that it was possible to feel alone in someone’s embrace.

T
he same question that haunted Jenny all evening returned with a vengeance in the morning. What should she do?