“Then why not then?”
“Because you’re a symbol to him, Joanna. You are the first person he ever saved, and that saved him. You’re an extension of himself, and everything he stands for. You represent his whole world. All his pain and sacrifice for the greater good. He’d never let such a base thing as sex sully that. You have to go out in the world, live a good life apart from him, contribute, otherwise what is all this sacrifice for? And that’s what makes you the most important person in his life.”
“What sacrifice? He talked me off a bridge. Nothing else.”
She chugs her drink. “Then he met Rebecca,” she says, ignoring me. “She meant something different. A blending of both worlds. She needed him at first exactly as you did, but could provide him with normalcy free of the darkness, or so he thought. Sometimes there’s not enough light in this godforsaken world to keep the darkness at bay.”
“I suppose,” I say for lack of something better. I’m confused as to half of what she’s said.
She closes her eyes for a moment, probably to focus her thoughts. “My point is you saved him once. You gave him a sense of purpose, and now you need to give him a reason to continue. This is going to destroy him. Mind, soul, and maybe body. I know that’s a lot to put on you, but I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you were up to the task. I’m asking you to put your own feelings, especially the misplaced guilt you are no doubt feeling, aside. I’m asking you to be strong for him, no matter what.” She purses her lips. “I know you must have resented Rebecca for usurping your place at his side. I would have. But wishing a person dead does not make it so. Any guilt rests solely on the monster who killed her. This is not your fault, Joanna. Please believe me.”
For a moment, mind you just a moment, if feels as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I can actually believe those words. Then that image of the photo on the door crashes me back to earth. Not that I’ll let her see any of this. “I will do whatever I can to get you both through this. I know you were fond of her. You lost her too. All of them.”
Lucy looks away. “That little girl. She was…precious. Did she suffer?”
“No. She was unconscious when it happened.”
Lucy collects herself, and then turns back to me with an awkward smile. “That’s good,” she says quietly. She takes a final swig of her drink and sighs. “I believe I will go upstairs and have a lie down.” She stands and as manners dictate, so do I. “I’m sure you can handle any telephone calls that come.”
“Of course.”
She sets down the glass. “Wake me in two hours. I’ve already contacted the airfield. They won’t grant clearance until we arrive.”
“Okay.”
We face each other, neither wanting to speak. Then she does something I never thought she’d do. She leans in, wrapping her thin arms around me in a stiff hug. I’m too shocked for a moment to move, but quickly remedy that, hugging her back. It’s over in a second. She pulls away first, a little embarrassed by this show of emotion. “Thank you.”
“Go rest.”
On unsteady legs, she totters out with her head up to maintain dignity. I’ve never seen her drink more than a single glass of champagne. I run my hand through my hair with a ragged sigh. If she’s reacting like this, Justin’s going to be inconsolable.
My hands begin shaking again and I have the strongest urge to sit. Really, I want to run out of this house, hop into my car, and drive as far away as possible. Check into some random hotel, drink myself into oblivion, and sleep for a month. And I could. I really could. They’d be better off without me. Everyone would. I—
The telephone rings, making me almost jump out of my seat. My nerves are shot. I could really use a drink. Or Valium. Or both. But no, I’m not touching the crap.
Okay, I failed one job, I’m not going to do it twice. I’ll just do the best I can. Just show up. I can do it. I can.
So I do.
***
The ride to the airport is a quiet one. Dobbs sits in the front of the vintage Rolls Royce separated by a clear sliding partition. Lucy and I sit side by side in the back, looking out our respective tinted windows. Even with the car in relative darkness, Lucy and I wear sunglasses to help with our hangovers.
The adrenaline that was keeping mine at bay wore off soon after Lucy left me to field a thousand phone calls from concerned friends and business associates. I told the truth, which turned out to be a mistake. Bitsy even began to sob, blubbering for close to five minutes. I let the machine pick up after that, only answering those which needed immediate response. The aspirin helped with the headache and a sandwich settled my stomach, but I’m still exhausted. My body feels as if I’ve just run across the country.