Client Privilege (30 page)

I nodded. ‘I’ve been through something like that,’ I said.

Lily smiled and shrugged. ‘I guess lots of people have. It’s new to everyone, though, when it happens. Anyway, the young woman was shattered. She moped around for a year. She thought she’d blown her only chance at happiness. With no hope or enthusiasm for it, but because she was broke and didn’t know what else to do, she took a job keeping house for a fascinating, colourful man, an older man who had, coincidentally, abandoned his wife. She must’ve been as baffled as me. Now this young woman had no particular skills, if you exclude certain man-catching tricks that came pretty naturally and didn’t seem to work for very long. But the pay was good, considering the work was pretty menial, and the demands were few. The man was around only enough to continue to seem fascinating and colourful. The woman’s tricks worked because about the time they might begin to wear thin the man was off to another exotic jungle. Mostly, she was alone, which was OK by her. She kept the house clean, dusted the glass cases where the pretty jaguars lived, took care of the stupid dogs, and planted elaborate gardens. She waited for the hunter to come home to admire everything she had done. And when he did she loved him. She didn’t assume he loved her. It wasn’t part of the bargain, and it wasn’t necessary. She always knew he’d leave, and she knew he’d always come back to her, and that was enough.’

‘You’ve been with him a long time,’ I said.

She nodded. ‘Yes. I was young when I came here. Now I’m not young anymore. It doesn’t bother me. I have no regrets. Oh, I assumed when Jeff got old he’d retire from his hunting and then we’d be together, and it would be glamorous. Well, it’s all happened. It just didn’t turn out very glamorous, did it?’

‘You could quit.’

‘And what would happen to him?’

‘He could hire someone else.’

‘Know something? I don’t think he would. I think he’d just lie around until he died.’

‘Or maybe he’d gather himself together and start to live.’

She cocked her head and looked at me. ‘You think I’m holding him back?’

‘I think,’ I said slowly, ‘he may be playing the invalid role to the hilt, and that he needs an audience for it.’

‘And without me for an audience he’d do better?’

‘He couldn’t do worse, could he?’

Lily’s eyes brimmed. ‘Aw, shit,’ she said.

I reached to her and touched her arm. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.’

‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Yeah, you did. I’ve thought of that. You’re probably right. I try to see myself as some kind of Florence Nightingale, sacrificing myself for the sake of this broken and twisted old man. But I’m really doing it for me, aren’t I?’

I shrugged. ‘What do I know about it?’

She took my hand and squeezed it quickly. ‘Nothing.’ She tried to smile. ‘Can I tell you something?’

‘If you want to. And if you’re prepared to put up with a tactless reply, which I seem to be especially good at.’

She nodded. ‘You are. Good at tactlessness, I mean.’ She let go of my hand and stared off into the woods. ‘We were lovers, of course. I assume everybody knew that. We were probably never exactly in love. But we loved each other, in our ways. And it was good, Brady. It was good enough for me, at least. The boundaries were clear, and that may be as good as it ever gets for anybody.’

‘No argument there.’

‘Since he came back—since his, the whatchacallit—the accident—he can’t, or he won’t, he doesn’t want to…’

I nodded.

‘He’s like a baby,’ she said softly. ‘Once in a while, usually when he has his bad dreams, he wants to be held, rocked, cuddled. Mostly, though, he’s cruel to me. This man was a powerful lover. Tender, strong. Sometimes almost brutal, but…’ She smiled at the memory. ‘Oh, he was something. Now?’ She shook her head quickly. ‘I shouldn’t be talking about it.’ She stood up. ‘Come on. Let’s go back.’

I held out my hands to her and she took them and I helped her climb down from the rock. She kept hold of one of my hands as we followed the pathway back to the bungalow.

Jeff hadn’t moved from the chaise. He appeared to be asleep. The martini pitcher looked emptier than it had when we left. I sat beside him while Lily continued into the house. I lit a cigarette and stared up into the darkening sky.

‘You and her gettin’ it on in the woods?’ Jeff said after a few minutes.

‘For Christ sake,’ I said.

‘She’s a helluva lay. Shame for something nice like that to go to waste.’

‘You’re drunk. Shut up.’

‘Can’t service her properly anymore. Half a man. Half my quota of testicles.’

‘A matter of looking at your scrotum as half full or half empty, I guess,’ I said.

‘Funny.’

I shrugged.

He stared off towards the ocean. ‘She finds me repulsive,’ he said.

‘You ever consider the possibility that the only one who finds you repulsive is you?’

He glanced sideways at me. ‘Thank you, Dr Freud.’

‘You’re welcome.’

‘She throws a good fuck, though, I’ll tell you that.’

‘Don’t be an asshole, Jeff.’

‘Hey, I see how you two look at each other. So go ahead. Climb between those sweet thighs. You two deserve each other.’

I sighed. ‘Grow up, Jeff. It’s time you grew up. Your hunting days are over.’

‘I am some kind of asshole, ain’t I?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ I said.

Lily came out and stood beside us. ‘Chow time,’ she said brightly. ‘Hobble on in here, men.’

‘Help me up, Brady,’ said Jeff.

I held my hands to him and he heaved himself into a sitting position on the chaise. He disentangled his legs from the blanket and swivelled them over the side. Lily handed him his crutch and he used it to brace himself so he could stand. Then without looking at us he stumped into the house.

Lily and I watched him go. She touched my arm. ‘What were you two talking about?’

‘The fact that he’s an asshole,’ I said.

Bug chunks of lobster claw and tail and bits of onion and celery, mixed in a homemade mayonnaise lightly spiced with dill, mounded on leaves of Bibb lettuce, with slices of early local tomatoes and cucumbers and hot rolls on the side. Lily had decanted a Riesling for the occasion. She declared it ‘piquant’ and I countered with ‘foxy’. ‘Gnomical,’ she said. ‘Canny,’ I retorted.

‘Bullshit,’ said Jeff.

He ate little. His fork vibrated in his hand and his lips quivered. Once or twice during the meal his eyelids drooped, but he caught himself with a jerk.

‘What time is that doctor supposed to come?’ he growled at Lily.

‘Nine-thirty, as always.’

‘Nine-thirty, as always.’ He mimicked her in a high-pitched, querulous voice. He shoved back his chair, fumbled for his crutch leaning on the wall beside him, and staggered to a standing position. ‘I’ll be in my bedroom. You two can play word games to your hearts’ content, or grapple around in each other’s crotches, for all I care.’

After he left the room, Lily looked at me. Tears glittered in her eyes. ‘He’s not always like this,’ she said. She tried to smile. ‘Sometimes he gets kind of grouchy.’

‘You don’t need to tolerate it.’

She shrugged. ‘I can. I suppose I will continue to.’

I helped her clear the table. Then I went into the living-room and sat in the darkness looking out at the purple summer sky while she loaded the dishwasher.

A few minutes later she came in and sat beside me. Her leg pressed against mine and her cheek rested against my shoulder. ‘Maybe we should,’ she said softly.

‘Should what?’

‘What he said.’ She chuckled quickly. ‘You know. Grapple around in each other’s crotches.’

I kissed the top of her head. ‘No we shouldn’t.’

‘No discussion?’

‘No discussion.’

She squirmed against me. ‘Why not?’

‘You know why.’

‘What if I left him?’

‘That would be different.’

‘Would it really?’

‘Yes.’

‘Does that mean…?’

‘That I find you attractive, yes.’

I felt her take a deep breath and let it out. ‘That’s something, I guess.’

We sat in silence. After a while, she said, ‘I’m not going to, though.’

‘Not going to what?’

‘Leave him.’

‘No, I suppose you’re not.’

Sometime later I heard the clang of the bell. Lily stood up. ‘He’s here.’

‘The doctor?’

‘No one else comes here.’ She went towards the door.

‘Can’t he pronounce the dogs’ names?’

‘Oh, heavens, no. You’re the only one.’

She turned on some lights before she went outside. I heard her speak to the dogs, and a minute later she returned, leading a tall, stooped man wearing rimless glasses. He had a smooth round face and a smooth round head fringed on the sides with reddish-brown hair. He appeared to be not much older than thirty. He actually carried a black bag.

I stood up and went to him.

‘Dr Sauerman, this is Brady Coyne, Jeff’s lawyer,’ said Lily.

We shook hands. His grip was firm and he peered solemnly into my eyes. ‘Pleasure, sir,’ he said.

‘He seems eager to see you,’ I said.

He nodded.

‘The highlight of his week,’ said Lily.

‘He is not a well man,’ said Sauerman.

‘So he insists,’ I said.

The doctor frowned for an instant, then turned to Lily. ‘Well, I better go in.’

Lily did not follow him. We stood in the middle of the living-room for a moment. ‘More wine?’ she said.

‘Bourbon, I think.’

‘Sounds good.’

She was back a minute later with two short glasses tinkling with ice. We took separate seats. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

‘For what?’

‘That previous conversation. I know you’re his friend and a loyal person.’

I shrugged. ‘I’m his lawyer, that’s all.’

‘But a loyal person.’

‘Something like that, I suppose.’

After a while the doctor came out. ‘Well, that’s that, then,’ he said.

‘How is he?’ I said.

‘Sleeping.’

‘No, I mean…’

Sauerman shrugged. ‘Nothing changes. Physically, he’ll always have pain. And without his medication, any one of those dozen or so infections could crop up again. The antibiotics seem to keep them down, whatever they are. Otherwise, he’s fine.’

‘And mentally?’

‘What you see is what you get. That’s not my field. I take his temperature and BP, poke around at his body, listen to his heart and lungs, leave a week’s supply of medication. He’s an unhappy man. Doesn’t take a doctor to diagnose that.’ To Lily he said, ‘Let me out of here, please. I don’t like those dogs.’

‘No one likes those dogs. Except Jeff. You don’t want to stay for a drink?’

He shook his head. ‘The wife’s at a party in Chatham. I better get there before Harry Carter drags her upstairs.’

‘I didn’t know you guys did house calls anymore,’ I said.

Sauerman shrugged. ‘He refuses to leave the house. He needs medical attention. What’s the choice?’

‘Hippocrates lives,’ I said.

He frowned for an instant. Lily took his arm. ‘Come on, then. Tondo and Ngwenya are out there slobbering. Let’s disappoint them.’

While Lily was showing Dr Sauerman out, I took my empty glass into the kitchen, rinsed it out, and set it beside the sink. I remembered Joey’s disturbing message, so I picked up the kitchen phone and pecked out the familiar number in Wellesley. It was the same phone number Gloria and I were given when we bought the place all those lifetimes ago. The line was busy. I listened to the monotonous beep for several seconds before I hung up. Then I wandered out on to the patio. I lit a cigarette and waved ineffectually at the mosquitoes that came swarming. I smoked half of it and flicked it off into the darkness, then retreated back inside.

Lily was in the kitchen loading the coffeepot. ‘Your bed’s all made up,’ she said.

I nodded. ‘How long has that doctor been treating Jeff?’

‘Around two years. He went through about half a dozen before he found one he liked. Dr Sauerman doesn’t mind coming to the house. He kids around with Jeff. Doesn’t mind spending a little time with him. The others were always looking at their watches, reminding everybody how dedicated they were.’

‘But Jeff doesn’t seem to get better.’

Lily shrugged. ‘I guess he’s as well as he’ll ever get.’ She rinsed her hands in the sink and turned to face me. ‘Aren’t all of us, though?’

I smiled. ‘Probably.’ I stretched elaborately and yawned. ‘Well, I’m off to bed.’

She tiptoed up and kissed my cheek. ‘Night, Brady. Sleep well.’

Ten minutes later I was lying there reading a new book on Western fly fishing, waiting for my eyelids to clang shut. I heard something scratching softly at my door.

‘Do not enter,’ I said.

The door pushed open and Lily came in. She was wearing a long nightgown, pale blue and sheer so that her nipples were clearly visible under it.

‘Depart,’ I said.

‘Old poop.’ she said. She sat on the side of my bed.

‘Really,’ I said. ‘Please.’

She touched the side of my face. ‘You sure?’

‘Positive.’ I closed my book and put it on the floor.

She bent down and kissed my cheek. ‘Absolutely positive?’ she whispered against the side of my face.

I grasped her shoulders and pushed her gently away. ‘For Christ sake, no, of course I’m not. So please go.’

She smiled and stood up. She put her hands on her hips. ‘Who’s teasing who here?’

‘Whom,’ I said.

‘Right.’

She turned and padded out of the room. She latched the door quietly behind her.

I sighed and turned off the light. My eyelids then did clang shut.

It seemed that I had been sleeping for a long time when my eyes popped open. Through the bedroom window, I could see the sky. It was dark and starry. I lay there, tense and alert. Something had awakened me. I heard nothing.

A night bird, maybe. Or maybe it was the country silence, a kind of booming absence of sound compared to the city noises that normally lulled me to sleep.

Then I heard it. A muffled footfall outside my door, a rustle of fabric. The latch clicked. Slowly the door opened, emitting a faint light from the hallway. A figure appeared silhouetted against it.