Special Relationship (37 page)

“It is yours, though, and I seem to have developed a fondness for anything Alex Anderson.”

She smiled. “How long does it take an Englishman to drink his tea?”

“About three hours, I think... more when watching cricket.”

“You are such a bastard.”

The next two days they spent mostly in bed, Nick assigning
Tavis to look after things at the fund managers, and to apologise on his behalf to anyone interested for his sudden illness. “Think it must be food poisoning.” he told the Scot.

“Or Miss Anderson poisoning,”
Tavis responded, lightly.

“I'm too old to be running a company like this and, please, what have you decided regarding Katherine?”

“I'm going to talk to Alex – if I survive my illness – and I'll let you know.”

“You do that Nick, and how you ever built a multi-million pound company will always be beyond me. Fucking Englanders.”

“Do you know, Tavis, given the chance, I'd be the first to vote for Scottish independence,” he replied before hanging up the phone.

Alex in a half-sleep lay on her front and he parted her hair to kiss the back of her neck before running his tongue down the length of her back. He then turned over and positioned himself to rest the back of his head on her buttocks.

“We're not home yet, you know.”

“Never will be....” she murmured. And more lucidly as she began to wake: “Which is why you should think twice about us.”

A couple of minutes went by. “I won't stop crying - hope you realise that,” she told him.

“Of course I do. But I was thinking if we dealt with the practical things – the things we can change – we can use our energy for coping the best we can with....everything else.”

She turned round and his head fell heavily on the mattress. “Clumsy oaf!” he said, smacking her thigh. She guided his head to rest on her front.

“And what can we change?”

“Well, firstly, from where I am you smell of sex Miss Anderson, and I'd like you to give up showers.”

“OK, done deal...” she smiled, “...even if London Transport bans me.”

“And...” he continued hesitantly. “we need to discuss the Katherine situation.”

“A bit more tricky.”

“You know she isn't a bad person – she was going through a confused time, she had doubts about you, problems at home – and I'm obviously responsible as well. She didn't know your past and, although I was lusting after you, we weren't actually together at that time.”

“I've already decided my view.”

“Which is?” he asked, preparing himself for an answer he didn't want to hear.

“Keep her on.”

He was surprised. “She can move to another department or even New York...”

“No.”

“If she stays my PA, there will be business trips and stuff.”

“I know. I'll handle it.”

Nick didn't want his reaction to look unexpected as that might have suggested there was more to him and Katherine than their brief sexual experiment.

But she eased the tension. “Besides, I think she can do better.”

“Right, that's it,” he said, grabbing her and tickling her side until she wept with laughter. “Just go and make the breakfast, Limey!” she managed to blurt out between her shrills.

Her fridge being bereft of anything other an out-of-date yoghurt, two eggs and a half-used jar of curry sauce, Nick put on jeans and T-shirt, foregoing both underwear and a shower - “You are so going to stink!” she berated him - before he took her keys and walked the streets of East London looking for provisions.

Nothing can go wrong, now, can it?, she asked herself while he was gone.

She called Kerry. “Where are you
hon?” she answered with concern.

“In bed.”

“Are you OK, not ill or anything?”

“I'm fine...let's just say I think we might be getting our contract back.”

Kerry shrieked. “And you might be getting
him
back!”

“I think I might.”

She explained about Katherine's surprise visit and her meeting with Nick in the park. And, encouraged by Kerry, was about to reveal some of the “raunchy details” she had asked for when she heard a key turning the door to her flat.

“He's back – I'll call you later.”

“One of Britain's richest men shopping in the local mini-mart. Nice picture for the tabloids,” she said.

“I have experience of shops other than Fortnum And Mason, you know,” he said, with the Sunday paper in one hand a shopping bag in the other. “You getting up?” he asked as he bent down to kiss her.

“For a while...and once your fine English breakfast has replenished my energy levels I thought I might return.”

“OK, I'll do you six rashers and four eggs, then.”

“At the very least,” she smiled.

She showered as he cooked but he interrupted her to say that something else needed sorting. “What's that?” she asked after turning off the mixer tap and opening the screen.

“Your contract,” teasingly going back to the kitchen before explaining fully.

She got out and wrapped herself in a towel before joining him as he checked the bacon under the grill.

“I put Tavis on the weekend shift in the office. And to give him something to do while waiting for the far east to wake up, I told him to call in a geek or two to get your link up and running again. That's, of course, if you still want to work for me?”

“Why else do you think I let you have your evil way with me?” she asked, approaching him from behind and putting her arms around his midriff.

“This saucepan is heavy you know,” he retorted. “And you are wet.”

“That's your fault,” she said.

Alex accepted Katherine's invitation to dinner without much thought. She knew Nick was trying to fix everything that could be fixed and she admired him for it and wanted to do everything possible to make his path easier.

The Georgian town house in Canonbury was a far more impressive home than she'd imagined. Three or four million, she thought as she looked up at the four-storey building. It was set in the sort of square she'd seen in old movies set in London with a garden surrounded by fine houses. Londoners loved greenery and made room for it wherever they could.

Katherine opened the door with a little boy by her side. “Thanks for coming Alex, I do...I'm really pleased you came. This is my son, Cheng - don't let him wrap you around his little finger,” she laughed nervously.

“Hi Cheng,” Alex said, bending down to shake his hand.

“Hello, miss,” he replied.

“You can call me Alex.”

“I have a friend in school called Alex. He is a boy.”

“Yes it can be a boy's name and a girl's name,” she smiled.

“Thought we'd catch the last of the weather and eat in the garden.” Katherine suggested.

“We can play ball!” said Cheng excitedly.

“Are you part Chinese yourself, Katherine?” she asked, as she kicked a football towards him in the garden.

“Yes my mother is half Chinese, my father English. “

“What's your history...if you don't mind me asking?”

“Bit of a long story.”

“
Bet it's interesting though.”

“Maybe not...but if you really want to know...hold on, I'll get some nibbles.”

When she came back she asked Cheng to let Alex have a rest from the football and the two of them sat at the table, where she explained her Chinese ancestry.

Katherine told her about a significant number of mariners from China, particularly Shanghai, who came to Britain at the end of the 19
th
century and then again, in larger numbers, during the two world wars. One of them was her grandfather who arrived in Liverpool in the 40's and met and married a local woman.

She explained that the Chinese were paid a fraction of what the British were and they went on strike, demanding equal pay. But that ended up with the Chinese, particularly those from Shanghai, being labelled as 'troublemakers' and the city council forcibly repatriated many of them, even taking their homes.

“So they had a choice,” she said. “My grandfather could go back to China alone, leaving his wife and baby – the baby being my mother – or they could all go to China together - and that's what they did.

“My mother, in her teens, took a job in Hong Kong where she met my father who worked for the British Administration and that's where I was born.”

“They both came back here after the British handover and, though I was early twenties at the time and in a good job, I decided to follow.

“Don't throw it so hard!” she exclaimed as her son resumed the game and threw the ball at Alex.

“And another thing I wanted to know about you, apart from your Oriental looks – and I hope you don't mind me asking – is your hair...it's amazing.”

“Oh, chemicals. I was depressed by the thought of covering up when I spotted the first grey, so decided to do something radical and went silver instead.”

“Certainly was radical...and very successful.”

“Thanks, thought it would get me a part in a James Bond film. Why don't we do yours silver as well - that would freak Nick.” They both laughed loudly.

“Cheng, bedtime, I'll come and say goodnight in a minute,” Katherine patted him on the head.

“But I want to stay with Alex,” said the little boy, putting on his obviously much-practised sulky look.

“Bed, NOW! Say goodnight to Alex. I'll be up in a minute.”

“
Bye Alex,” he said, waving his hand and reluctantly leaving the garden through the patio doors before turning around and running back to kiss his mother.

“You are playing
for time, young man,” she rebuked him.

“He's gorgeous,” Alex said as he left again.

“I became a different person the day I got the letter confirming the adoption. Changed my life, if not that of my husband.

“And you...you've never wanted kids?”

The question or a variation of which she'd been asked countless times since she arrived in England but she still found difficult to answer without denying Megan. “Love them,” she said.

Katherine noticed her reluctance to say more and broke the ensuing silence by offering to bring the food. She came back carrying two trays. “I checked with Nick, and he said I'd be safe wit
h seafood, so we have Szechuan fried shrimp, crab won-tons and a hot rice salad. Hope you like it.”

“I'm sure I will. It looks wonderful.”

As they ate, Katherine explained the bureaucracy she had gone through to adopt Cheng despite China's one-child policy. The government, she told her, was known to round up hundreds of women at a time and force them into sterilisations and abortions. “Women are fined for having 'illegal' children,” and the police come and ransack the house if they don't pay.”

“I can't imagine,” Alex said, looking horrified.

“Problem is that if everyone had, two or three children, the country wouldn't survive.”

“But the state sterilising a woman or killing her unborn child? Where I come from half the people own guns because they don't trust the government.

“But then don't kids get killed in another way, like Sandy Hook?” she asked. “Hey, let's lighten up. I'll put some music on.

“Nick tells me you like jazz,” she said as she came back into the garden with Miles Davis's 'So What' playing from a CD player on the patio, loud enough to further enchant the already beguiling gardens of that part of London.

“Big fan.. Reminds me of the nice side to New York.”

Katherine thought that suggested there was something about New York that for her had a bad side, but she stopped herself from asking.

“And you and Nick are going away at the weekend?”

“Yes we are going to see his horse.”

“I think Nick missed his last run, you know, dealing with, err, stuff, and he won again.”

“I know. I love horses but didn't know much about racing until Ascot. Now I've started reading the races pages, to check for any news on
Manarola. Can't wait to see him again.”

When it started to chill, they went inside and drunk coffee. Katherine frequently looked at her phone, Alex thought she was looking for a message from her husband, and she began to recall what it used to be like for herself.

Otherwise the evening finished as pleasantly as it had begun. They both went upstairs to see Cheng sleeping soundly in his bed, whispering together so not to disturb him. Then the sound of a car pull up outside. “I think it's your cab,” said Katherine, peaking through the curtains of the room.

They walked down the stairs and kissed on the cheek.

“Oh, before you go, I've got something,” she said, rushing to the kitchen. “Fortune cookie,” she said as she came back.

“Oh, that's so lovely. Thanks Katherine, I've had a really nice evening.”