Mrs. John Doe

Chapter 7

“What happened to your forehead?” Vivian asked her.

Nora waved a hand in vague dismissal. “Oh, it was nothing. I stumbled on something in the fog and fell down, but I’m all right. Does it look awful?”

“No, it’s just a little black-and-blue spot. You look fine-I mean, considering. I mean- Oh, damn it, Nora, I don’t know what to say!”

Nora reached across the white linen tablecloth and grasped her friend’s hand. “Don’t worry, Viv, I’m fine. I’m just getting used to it, that’s all. It’s going to take a while.”

“You didn’t eat anything,” Vivian said. “Mrs. Tindall knocked herself out with that lovely chicken, and you barely touched it. Or the wine. Have you eaten today?”

Nora shrugged as a Tindall son-in-law arrived to clear the dinner plates from the table. “I had something on the plane. To tell you the truth, I’m more tired than anything else. I could sleep for a hundred years.”

Vivian nodded. “Yes, that’s the delayed reaction. It’s all been a terrible shock, and I’ll leave you alone just as soon as I have some coffee and get you up to your room. Do you need anything from the outside world?”

“No, I’m okay, Viv.” Nora changed the subject. “I wish Bill could have joined us for dinner, but he must be very busy with that minister guy.”

A slow, grim smile came to her friend’s face. “Is that the excuse he made? Well, I suppose he would, wouldn’t he.”

“What do you mean?” Nora asked as the waiter reappeared with Viv’s coffee and her chamomile tea.

Vivian waited until he’d gone. “I wasn’t going to bring this up tonight, not with all you’ve been through, but you’ll hear about it soon enough, so…Darling, Bill and I aren’t together anymore. We’ve been separated for about a year now. We’re in the middle of divorce proceedings. I haven’t seen him in six months We discussed your arrival on the phone last night, and he opted to meet you at the airport, so I got dinner with you at the hotel. It’s just like him to arrange a business meeting so he could wriggle out of any unpleasant explanations. He’s obviously left all that to me.”

“Oh, Viv, I’m sorry,” Nora murmured.

Now it was Vivian’s turn to wave a dismissive, carefully manicured hand. “Don’t be. First of all, you have more to be sad about than anyone at the moment, so please waste no tears on me. Besides, it’s been coming on for a long time-years and years.”

“But I always thought you were the perfect couple,” Nora said. “What happened?”

Vivian uttered a low, bitter laugh. “No, dear, you and Jeff were the only perfect couple I ever knew. As for Bill, well, it’s what happens with so many men. He turned fifty, and so did I, and all of a sudden he wanted to trade me in for a new model. So, he started driving various models round the block, as it were, kicking the tires and so forth. There were two that I know of-one of them was twenty years old!-before he met his new soulmate. That’s what he calls her, anyway. Solange-how’s that for a name? She works for him, a secretary or whatever. I understand she’s very pretty. He’s bought a big house in the country for them to live in. They’re getting married as soon as-as soon as…”

Nora was surprised to see the tears in her friend’s eyes. She’d never seen Vivian unhappy, not once in all the years she’d known her. She was suddenly uncomfortable. She glanced around the room, grateful that it wasn’t very busy at the moment. The tourist couple was at the next table, still bickering over the map they’d had in the lobby, something about an excursion to Hadrian’s Wall. The blond girl with the great legs was at another table across the room, reading a book as she ate. Two men and a woman in one corner were laughing loudly and toasting with red wine. Otherwise, the place was empty, rows of unused plates and gleaming cutlery waiting for the late crowd to return from the tennis courts. And here was Vivian Howard, of all people, weeping on the tablecloth. Nora grasped her hand again.

“I’m so sorry, Viv. If I’d known, I would have slapped his face at the airport today!”

This made Vivian smile, and she dabbed at her eyes with her napkin. “Don’t bother, dear. It’ll take more than a slap to knock some sense into that man. And my solicitors have big plans for all our joint property. He may be Her Majesty’s faithful watchdog, but this time he won’t know what hit him! Oh well, you’re the one we should be concentrating on. I was so fond of Jeff; he was such a wonderful man. Shall I meet you here tomorrow afternoon? I can go to the hospital with you and take you to the airport-or is my soon-to-be ex doing the honors?”

“Actually, we didn’t make any plans about-”

“Well, think about it for a few minutes, dear, while I go do something about this face. Be right back.”

Vivian rose and swept out of the dining room. Nora sipped her tea, trying to arrange tomorrow’s itinerary in her mind. Did she want either Bill or Vivian with her when she went to collect the ashes at the hospital? Not really. Better to sleep late, book an evening flight, and stop at the hospital on the way to the airport. She’d rather do it alone…

“Mrs. Baron?”

Nora looked up, startled. The young blond woman was standing beside her chair, smiling politely down at her.

“Yes?” Nora said. She was aware of bright blue eyes, glossy pink lips, and Shalimar. The girl leaned down, placing her hand lightly on the table beside Nora’s saucer.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” she whispered.

Then she was moving away, through the door to the lobby. Nora watched her go, and the door swung shut. She scanned the dining room again; apparently, no one else had noticed the incident. The tourists argued; the trio in the corner laughed. She looked down at the table where the girl had briefly rested her hand. A slip of white paper lay there, folded in half. Nora stared at it a moment and then slowly picked it up and opened it. Five words were scrawled across it in black ink. She recognized the handwriting immediately.

Pal-He’s thinking-“Coop” demain

A cold stab of fear nearly paralyzed her as she stared down at the words. The quiet dining room seemed to tilt around her, shifting vertiginously to an impossible angle, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. The panic she’d experienced in the park returned full force. What on earth? she thought. This isn’t part of the plan. Nobody told me about this-

The door swung open again, and Vivian Howard came back into the room. Nora collected herself and stood up from the table. She picked up her shoulder bag, dropping the slip of paper into it, and took Vivian by the arm to lead her back out into the lobby. A swift glance around the place let her know that the mysterious blond girl was no longer there.

“I’m really very tired,” she said now. “Thank you for keeping me company, but I just want to sleep. Tomorrow I’ll stop at the hospital on my way to Heathrow. There’s no need for you or Bill to interrupt any more plans for my sake.”

“Oh, darling, it’s no bother at all-”

“I know, Viv, and you’re wonderful, but I need to get this done and get home to Dana, and I can do it best alone. Please thank Bill for me-if you’re still speaking to him, that is.”

Vivian laughed. “Of course I am, but that’s subject to change.” Now her humor faded. “The last time I saw Dana was five or six years ago. She’s all grown up now. How is she taking it?”

“She’ll be fine,” Nora said, uneasy at the thought of her daughter. She hadn’t told Dana the truth, not yet. That would have to be faced soon enough, she supposed. But first, she had to get rid of her well-meaning friend. “If you let me sneak away this time, I’ll come back as soon as I can for a nice long stay. We’ll see all the shows and hit the sales at Harrod’s. How does that sound?”

“Terrific-as long as it’s a promise. I’m here if you need me, and so is Bill. He’s an absolute bastard, but he loves you as much as I do. You know that.”

“Yes, I do,” Nora said, taking her friend in her arms. “I’ll call you as soon as I’m home.”

“Goodbye, darling,” Vivian whispered. With a final wave, she made a dramatic exit.

As soon as she was gone, Nora went directly over to the front desk. Mr. Tindall’s youngest grandson was doing the honors this evening. He was about Dana’s age, the age of her students at Stony Brook, and she liked him. He was rail thin and freckled, and when she’d last encountered him three years ago his great passion was computers. She hoped that hadn’t changed.

“Lonny, I need an accomplice.”

A sly grin appeared among the freckles. “I’m your man, Mrs. B.”

“Thank you,” she said, “but it’s a secret.”

“Cool. ’Sup?”

“I’ll let you know. Are you here for a while?”

“Yeah, till midnight.”

“Okay. Back in a few.”