“Okay, so wives of the rich or famous?” Jack nods as if thinking. “I’ll ask around.” He suddenly smiles. “I’ve always wanted to be a philanthropist and this seems to be a very good way of starting.”
I’m happy he cares about my feelings enough to start a charity. He surprises me with his generosity all the time. I stare at the line of yachts sparkling under the sun and bobbing slightly. Just looking at them makes me giddy. As this club is a big part of his life, I’m glad I offered him a way out of our marriage—although losing him would break my heart, I need to know where I stand with him. He is still so new to me and so is my new life alongside him. His chatter goes over my head as we walk along the dock; my stomach tightens at the idea of stepping onto Laura’s yacht. How could Jack still cherish the place where his wife died? Although heat burns through my clothes a shiver runs down my spine and a wave of nausea grips me. I really don’t want to go near theLaura. In fact, I need to be anywhere but here.
TWELVE
We walk in brilliant sunshine along a dock lined with millions of dollars of the finest vessels money can buy. When we reach his yacht the captain greets us. I must admit the yacht is magnificent and I gape at the seamless blend of glass and polished steel with multiple decks offering panoramic views of the sea. The name “Laura,” emblazoned on one side, screams out at me. I nod as Jack introduces me to the staff but I won’t be staying long. Even in dock the boat is moving too much for my comfort.
Inside is luxurious and I can see Laura’s touch everywhere—not what I would expect to find at all. It’s as if Jack’s neutral taste has been completely disregarded and Laura’s feminine touches have taken over. I personally don’t like lace and frills and it seems very strange to me that Jack hasn’t changed anything since his wife died. This yacht is his “baby” and yet it resembles a feminine boudoir.
He shows me the decks and the bedrooms. They smell of room freshener and fish. The mixture is doing strange things to my stomach and I turn to head back into the fresh air. As I move along the passageways in an attempt to escape, I can feel Laura’s presence so intensely that I expect her to open a doorand scream at me for stealing her husband. I’m moving faster now, running until I slow to move down the gangplank and back onto the dock. I bend over, sucking in deep breaths of salty air.
“Willow.” Jack is at my side. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea this would happen.”
I straighten and look at him. “That boat isn’t you, Jack. It’s old and not a good representation of who you are in this world. You’re a builder.” I wave a hand at the yacht. “Inside is the opposite of your tastes. Neutral, you told me, and that is more like a brothel. You should sell it and buy something more appropriate.” I breathe slowly, trying to settle my stomach. “You don’t need to please me, Jack. Buy something to please you. Yes, I’ll miss you when you go fishing with your friends but I’ll never stand in your way. We can work this out. One thing though. I would prefer you go out fishing with the boys and not have parties on board without me.”
“Oh, that’s a given.” He smiles at me and his eyes sparkle. “I’m faithful and that’s one thing you can take to the bank.” He leads me to a bench and we sit down. “Rest for a time until you get your sea legs.”
I chuckle. “That will never happen.” I turn to him as we both stare at the yacht. “If it’s not too painful, what happened the night Laura died?”
“There’s not much to tell really.” Jack rests one arm along the back of the bench behind me. “It was our wedding anniversary and we had some friends aboard to celebrate. We’d had a great meal and were drinking bottles of champagne. Something had gotten into Laura’s craw. She had a problem with a couple of my staff and wanted me to fire them immediately. I asked her to cool down and just enjoy herself and that I’d deal with them in my own time. She flew at me and slapped my face.” He shakes his head slowly and sighs. “She had a temper and didn’t suffer foolseasily. We went through so many staff in the house as she always found something wrong with them.”
I want more information and turn in my seat to look at him. “When did she go missing? Was she drunk?”
“No, she wasn’t drunk. She’d had maybe one glass of champagne and she always drank water with meals.” Jack stares into the distance and I can almost see the memories coming to the surface. “After she yelled and slapped me, I told her to go and clear her head and she went out onto the deck.” He points to the back of the boat. “She was heading for the stern when I last saw her. I wasn’t concerned in any way because she often went and stood at the railing and stared at the stars. It was her favorite place to be, especially at night. I figured I’d give her a few minutes to cool down and then go and see her but I got into a conversation with the others and lost track of time. I guess twenty or thirty minutes had gone by before I went out to speak to her. She was nowhere in sight. I came back inside and asked if anyone had seen her come in. No one had seen her and then we all searched for her. When we couldn’t find her, we contacted the Coast Guard and turned around immediately and headed back the way we’d come. We moved at a slow rate of knots and used the searchlights across the water. It wasn’t long until the Coast Guard arrived and we searched all night and the next day. There were choppers and just about everyone I know from the marina out searching but we never found a trace of her.”
I frown as he hasn’t mentioned the weather or the missing life buoy. “What could have caused her to fall overboard? She was an experienced sailor I assume and familiar with that spot.”
“The water was choppy but was it enough to throw her overboard?” Jack turns his gaze back to me. “This fact has played on my mind since that night. You see, Laura hadn’t been herself for months. She’d been unwell and I put it down to the medication the doctor had given her for depression. She wasnever the same after Noah’s birth and I blame myself for her death in some ways. I avoid arguing with anyone, it’s not in my nature but she kept goading me. This time, I told her to get some fresh air because she was making a spectacle in front of our friends and I knew she’d regret it in the morning. I said it softly and I doubt anyone heard. The thing is, Willow, I should have taken more time to listen to her and maybe help her work out her insecurities.” He sucks in a deep breath and lets it out. “She was the mother of my children and I cared for her but our relationship toward the end was difficult. I’d hoped she’d recovered but, when she attacked me, I knew she needed to see the psychiatrist again. Nothing I did helped her. I can’t get it out of my head that maybe she took her own life just to spite me.”
THIRTEEN
SUNDAY
I stretch and snuggle back under the covers. Tiredness grips me, pulling me down into much needed sleep. The room is dark, the drapes tightly drawn, but slivers of sunlight peek through in places. The scent from the vase of roses on the desk fills the room and I can just make out a fallen petal in a beam of sunlight. I reach out to touch the warm body beside me and sigh. I love having such an understanding husband and don’t believe he was any different with Laura. I want to have confidence in him but there are so many conflicting accounts, I’m having trouble getting my head around. Again, last night I had trouble sleeping and just couldn’t get Jack’s tragic expression from my mind. I know it’s been seven years but most people recall a terrible incident in their lives with clarity. What is the truth about Laura’s death? Getting one version of the night she died from Sue, then another from Missy and then a slightly different story from Jack makes me want to get to the bottom of what really happened. Did she fall overboard, jump, or was she pushed? I need to know and I’m not doing this for Laura—although it would be good to know if she was a spoiled brat or the mother with postnatal depression that Jack insists. I guess she could be both. If she was unstable, was it because of the ghost stories andthe face at the window—or this depressing house? Have I been mistaken about Laura all along? In the portrait anger shimmers from her eyes, it’s unmistakable. The problem is I have strange things happening to me too. In her position, I’d want someone to find out the truth or am I going crazy too? I know there are vastly different trains of thought about spirits. Some say they don’t exist while others insist they haunt houses for a reason and that’s to reveal the truth about their deaths and so lay their souls at rest.
I didn’t imagine the door closing or the image in the reflection in the dining room mirror yesterday. I’ve tried to make sense of it all and the only logical explanation is that Amy or one of the other staff were peeking in to make sure we had everything we needed—but that doesn’t explain the door closing behind me in the dressing room. Then there’s the conversation I had with Jack about ghosts. I remember it so vividly. Had that really been a dream or had he forgotten he’d told me? It would have been an intimate moment for him, seeing her as if she was saying goodbye. Then again, Jack might believe it shows weakness by admitting he’d seen her. What I can’t fathom is, he remembers everything else we spoke about that night. It doesn’t make sense to me that he’d forget the bit about seeing her ghost. I sit up in bed and shake my head; perhaps the lack of sleep and exhaustion is causing a slip in my memory—or am I slowly losing my grip on reality?
I’m apprehensive about meeting the kids today and more so Jack’s parents. I overheard a heated conversation he had with them just before we boarded the flight to Paris. His mother’s outraged voice cut through my happiness like a wrecking ball. She’d heard about our whirlwind romance and marriage from Ruby. Personally, I don’t believe it’s Ruby’s job to inform Jack’s family about his personal life. He wanted to tell his parents in his own time. He’d told me his mother believes no one is goodenough for her son. I was shocked to discover she’d arranged for him to meet Laura. The fact that he’d liked her was a bonus and he insists he’d married her for love, not for her family name or the old money behind her.
I push hair from my eyes and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I would be the last person she’d pick for Jack. Although I’m educated, I wanted to be an actor and ended up taking any work I could get, mostly in advertising. My agent would send me to the craziest auditions but I was fortunate enough to make a living. Beside me, Jack is sleeping soundly. I head for the shower. I’d like time to speak to the staff before he wakes.
When I’m done, I walk to the kitchen determined to get answers but, before I make it to the bottom of the stairs, I hear Jack calling my name. I turn, try to ignore the accusing stare from Laura’s portrait and call back. “I’m on the stairs. I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.”
“Okay, give me five.” The bedroom door slams shut.
I stare blankly for a few moments. Have I upset him? I shrug and hurry down to the kitchen. It’s busy with people moving around, Sue is issuing orders and George is just finishing his meal. I figure it’s too noisy to ask questions so I get Pierre’s attention and make an excuse for being there. “Can I have crispy bacon this morning?” I smile at him. “I love it with pancakes.”
“Your wish is my command.” Pierre grins at me. “I’ll send it right along.” He turns back to the stove.
I nod at Sue and notice Jenny entering the kitchen. I wait for her to come to me. “Do you know what time the kids are due home?”
“They should be here by the time you finish breakfast.” Jenny glances at her watch. “Mr. and Mrs. Hunter live about twenty minutes or so away. It was convenient as they were due for their grandparents’ weekend. It gave you time to settle in.”
I consider the implications of caring for another person’s children and lean against the counter. “What is a typical day for them? I’d like to be involved but I don’t want to push myself on them.”
“Weekdays they go to school. They’ll have breakfast with you and then I drive them. I collect them in the afternoon. They have a snack in the kitchen and then I supervise their homework. After that they play until dinner. They have a short time watching TV or playing video games and then they go to bed. It’s much the same every day. Weekends vary as to what Mr. Hunter has planned. If he wants some time alone, I can take them to the park or the beach. There are many things to do here. Sometimes they just want to chill at home.”
Interested, I nod. “How are they at school? Do you need to tutor them in any subjects?”
