Page 185 of Original Sin

‘Just a few recommendations. I thought you could do with some help if you’re sneaking into horror movies all the time.’

‘Wow Jack, these are great,’ she said, hugging him. ‘I haven’t seen any of these.’

‘I’m not surprised,’ he said wryly. ‘You’re always working.’ Jack looked at her with a frown. ‘Why do you work so hard?’

She screwed up a ball of gift–wrap and threw it at him. ‘Because I have to.’

‘No you don’t,’ he said simply. ‘You think it makes your life better but it doesn’t, it makes it worse. I mean, if you didn’t work so hard, you could have gone back to England for Christmas.’

Tess shrugged. ‘I don’t think going back to London for Christmas would make my life better. It’s not like there’s anyone I really care about over there any more.’

‘That’s sad, isn’t it,’ said Jack, and Tess felt herself squirm. There was no accusation in his words, just good nature and concern, but he was right. It was sad. Where had she gone so wrong? she wondered; what bad decisions had she made that had brought her here? Thousands of miles from home. Yes, she was rich, yes she was successful, but she was alone, despite all the friends around her.

‘Couldn’t you go and see your mum?’ asked Jack.

Tess shook her head. ‘She’s not a very nice person. She hurt me very badly and I guess I blame her for how a lot of things in my life turned out.’

‘But she’s still your mum.’

Out of the mouths of babes … thought Tess. With Jack’s childish simplicity, it almost made sense.

‘So why don’t you call her?’ he said, warming to his idea. ‘You know, after my mum tried to take me away from Dad, I didn’t want to talk to her for a few weeks. But I forgave her. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do at Christmas?’

Tess sprang forward and pulled him into a bear hug. ‘You know, if I ever have a son, I hope he’s just like you.’

‘I thought you didn’t want kids?’

She laughed. ‘D’you know, I’m not sure what I want any more.’

Scooping her DVDs into her bag, she went back into the living room. ‘I’m off,’ she said, more brightly than she felt.

‘Not back to work I hope?’ said Patty sternly.

‘Just a few emails,’ smiled Tess. ‘Can you believe I’ve had ten calls from the photo agencies today? Apparently word’s out that the wedding is going to be at Leonard’s house over the holidays. I have to get back and arrange a photo–call. I thought we could release one picture of the happy couple and the proceeds can go to charity.’

‘Do it tomorrow,’ smiled Patty lazily from Kevin’s arms. ‘It’s Christmas.’

Tess almost laughed out loud. What had turned this ball–breaking career girl to mush? Love, she decided, realizing with an uncomfortable afterthought that it had made Patty a stronger, richer person. Tess had always thought of love in negative terms: vulnerability, loss of independence, the possibility – no the inevitability – of heartbreak. After what had happened to her father, Tess had convinced herself that she didn’t want a family, deciding instead that it was money and position that made you safe. But looking at Kevin and Patty, it dawned on her that maybe she’d got it upside down. Perhaps Jack was right; instead of rejecting the idea of family entirely, perhaps she just needed to approach it in a different way.

She waved goodbye and went out onto the cold street, where an inch–thick layer of snow was already covering the street. She trudged back to the apartment, breaking the virgin snow with her lonely footprints. The flat was silent and cold. Jemma had gone to Toronto to see her sister and the small Christmas tree in the corner of the room looked rather forlorn without its lights on. Join the club, thought Tess.

She uncorked a bottle of wine, turned on the stereo, and flopped down on the sofa. Letting the red liquid slip down her throat, she closed her eyes and listened to Nick Drake and his lilting melancholic song. In three days’ time the wedding would be over and her contract with it. Then what? Where exactly did she fit in the world now? She would have no job and – she realized suddenly – nowhere to live. The flat came as part of the package with the Asgills; if she was no longer in their employ, she’d have to ship out. But where to? Could she go back to London? What was there? Who was there? Dom. Sean. Her mother?

Tess looked over to the mantelpiece where she and Jemma had lined up their Christmas cards. This was the first year she hadn’t had a card from her mother, she realized. In the years after her father’s death, her mother had kept sending her birthday and Christmas cards, usually to Tess’s work address. She wasn’t sure how her mother kept tabs on where she worked, but for years the cards kept coming, always containing her mother’s contact details. You could call her, said a little voice in Tess’s head. What a stupid idea, she scolded herself, grabbing a copy of the nearest book to distract herself. Simply Divine: Charles Devine – the whole story. Stretching out on the sofa she began flicking through the pages of Charles’s memoirs. She had to admit he had a wonderful narrative voice, camp and witty, and couldn’t understand why a publisher hadn’t picked up his manuscript. Perhaps that’s what happened when you were out of favour. Too tired to read any more, she turned to the photographs in the middle of the book. Charles as a toddler, running around a country garden. Charles as a teenager. How handsome he was! Charles with Truman Capote, Pamela Harriman, Babe Paley, Gregory Peck. Just as he said, they were all there. Charles looked so glamorous and chic in every one. What a life he’s led, marvelled Tess. Suddenly she stopped, one particular face catching her eye. Yes, it was definitely her: much younger; much happier, it seemed. Tess read the caption: ‘On the high seas with Olivia Martin and Meredith Carter. Catalina Island. July 1963’

. She examined the picture more carefully. The three of them were on a yacht, Olivia and Meredith were dressed in bathing suits, laughing and clinking two flutes of champagne together. It was a happy, relaxed photograph, but something about the image just didn’t fit. She reread the caption: Catalina Island, July 1963. Tess frowned. She remembered back to one of her first conversations with Meredith, at Brooke and David’s engagement party at Belcourt. Yes, that was it! She distinctly remembered Meredith saying that she barely knew Olivia. Tess grabbed her mobile and phoned Charles.

‘Darling Tess! Yuletide greetings to you,’ said Charles with evident pleasure. ‘How are you? I thought I was never going to hear from you again.’

‘I was just reading your memoirs.’

‘Aren’t they splendid?’

‘Yes, yes they’re wonderful.’

She paused. ‘Charles, are you at home? I need to talk to you.’

She could hear him clapping his hands.