“Well, exactly,” Kate agreed. “After all, it’s my New Year’s resolution to be generous. This is the new generous me.” She smiled angelically.
“It’s so easy to be generous on other people’s money!”
Kate turned to Candace and pulled a face. “I’ve got to begin somewhere. Small steps for me, giant steps for mankind!”
When Angelica picked the children up from school at half-past three, she forgot about the robbery at Rosenbosch in the comforting familiarity of her old life. Joe and Isabel flung themselves at her, clinging to her coat like monkeys, competing to be heard. The three of them held hands and walked up the street and into Kensington Gardens, where the pale, winter sunshine had managed to find a break in the clouds and stream through. They walked up the path towards the palace, and Angelica listened to their news. They had so much to tell her, and she gave them all her attention, soaking up their love and letting it revive her.
Once they got home the children rushed upstairs to see what presents their mother had brought them. They bounced on the bed as she unpacked her suitcase, delving through her memories to pull them out. Joe and Isabel tore at the paper excitedly. But nothing delighted Isabel as much as the little bottles of shampoo and body lotion that Angelica had taken from the hotels. She ran to her bedroom, her arms full of loot, to try on her pajamas and to put the bottles in her dressing table drawer in tidy rows. Joe was happy with his gifts, but it wasn’t until he had given his mother the Full Joe that he was able to put the week behind him. He lay against her, nuzzling into her neck, and Angelica held him tightly, thanking God that she was alive to enjoy her children.
While they played in their bedrooms, Angelica went upstairs to her office. She switched on her computer and began to sort through her post. It was surreal how quickly life returned to normal. Rosenbosch began to feel like a dream. With a suspended heart she clicked on her e-mails. She barely dared breathe as the list came through. She scanned it, wishing for an e-mail from Jack, knowing that he hadn’t sent one.
There was only one thing to do: write her letter and send it off. Delete his details from her e-mail and telephone. She should have done it months ago, before she had fallen so far, before her vanity had overpowered her. She pulled out a sheet of monogrammed writing paper and turned on her iPod, choosing Ennio Morricone’s sound track to Once upon a Time in the West. She wrote in turquoise ink to match the printed address at the top of the page, and she wrote with care, choosing her words judiciously.
My darling DOP, this is the hardest letter I will ever have to write, but for my own sanity and the good of my husband and children, I feel there is no other ending for us—with all the will in the world I am unable to find a happy one. As you said when you lay bleeding beside me, “We’ve had fun, haven’t we?” We’ve had more than fun, Jack, we’ve shared something rare and magical. You’ve shown me my wings and taught me how to use them.
I am trying to understand why you chose not to be honest with me and to forgive you, but I’m not like Anna; I’m full of human frailties while she has surely been touched by the angels. My heart bleeds for you and for us as I leave you in the loving arms of your wife and daughters. But it’s just not meant to be. We were given a glimpse of paradise, but now the clouds have closed and that glimpse has gone forever. I know I will never see you again but in my dreams.
Rest well, my love. There’s no one more qualified to accompany you along your final path than Anna, although I will be with you in my thoughts. Please don’t try to contact me; it will only make it harder for both of us. I will always love you. Sage
She wept as she wrote it, wiping her eyes on her sleeve so that she didn’t smudge the ink. So it really was good-bye. She wrote the envelope and sealed it, staring at the address and remembering those camphor trees, the pavilion on the lake, the mountain range, the sunsets, and Jack with his wavy hair swept off his broad face, his gentle brown eyes, and his roguish grin. Then she cried all over again because it hurt so much to think of his dying.
She deleted his details from her computer and mobile telephone and gave the letter to Sunny to post. She felt as if an invisible rope connecting them across the globe was now severed. Hugging her children was the greatest medicine for her injured heart. When she went into Isabel’s room, she found her at her dressing table, applying makeup.
“Darling, look at you!” She laughed, putting her arms around her daughter from behind. “That’s the reddest lipstick I’ve ever seen!”
“Kate left it behind,” said Isabel nonchalantly. “I stole it.” She grinned mischievously.