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The Gate House :: Demille Nelson
Страница: 455 из 490”
“I’dlike to have you and Susan over for dinner when you return from your trip.”
“That would be nice.”
“Tell her I stopped by and said hello and bon voyage.”
“I will.”
“And get some caffeine and aspirin.”
“I will. Thanks.”
I walked her out to her car, and she asked me, “Is that the Stanhopes’ car?”
“It is.”
“Oh, God. I see why you’re under the weather.”
I forced a smile and said, “They’re leaving for the airport soon.”
“Let’s celebrate. See if Susan wants to come by tonight for drinks.”
“Thanks, but we need to pack. Early flight.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.” She asked, “Why are you going to Istanbul?”
“Just to get away. I spent a week there when I was sailing.”
She looked at me and said, “Maybe someday, some handsome man will ask me to sail with him around the world.”
Maybe sooner than you think. I said, “If you wish it, it will happen.”
She didn’t reply.
I said to her, “Tell Mitch I said hello.”
“Who?”
Well, that answered that question.
She gave me a peck on the cheek and said, “Send me a postcard.”
“I will. We will.”
“Bye.” She got in her BMW and drove off.
I went back in the house, into the office, and shut the door.
Well… I had too much on my mind and too much on my plate to think about Elizabeth. And, in truth, my heart was still here.
I stood at the desk and looked at the envelope on it.
The intercom buzzed, and I picked it up.
Susan said, “I’m in the kitchen. My father will not see you in the office, but he will speak to you on the phone later – or after you return to London.”
She sounded more composed now – or maybe shell-shocked. I replied, “All right.”
“He’s going out to the car so that I can spend a few minutes alone with my mother.”
“Fine.”
“Please don’t go out to speak to him.”
“I won’t.” I said to her, “I’ll see you after they leave.” I hung up.
I heard the front door open, and I saw William walking to his car.
I’m usually in control of a situation, or if I’m not, I take control. But there are times – like this time – when the best thing to do is nothing. And, really, what did I need to say to William Stanhope? I didn’t need to tell him what I thought of him – he already knew that.
“I’dlike to have you and Susan over for dinner when you return from your trip.”
“That would be nice.”
“Tell her I stopped by and said hello and bon voyage.”
“I will.”
“And get some caffeine and aspirin.”
“I will. Thanks.”
I walked her out to her car, and she asked me, “Is that the Stanhopes’ car?”
“It is.”
“Oh, God. I see why you’re under the weather.”
I forced a smile and said, “They’re leaving for the airport soon.”
“Let’s celebrate. See if Susan wants to come by tonight for drinks.”
“Thanks, but we need to pack. Early flight.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.” She asked, “Why are you going to Istanbul?”
“Just to get away. I spent a week there when I was sailing.”
She looked at me and said, “Maybe someday, some handsome man will ask me to sail with him around the world.”
Maybe sooner than you think. I said, “If you wish it, it will happen.”
She didn’t reply.
I said to her, “Tell Mitch I said hello.”
“Who?”
Well, that answered that question.
She gave me a peck on the cheek and said, “Send me a postcard.”
“I will. We will.”
“Bye.” She got in her BMW and drove off.
I went back in the house, into the office, and shut the door.
Well… I had too much on my mind and too much on my plate to think about Elizabeth. And, in truth, my heart was still here.
I stood at the desk and looked at the envelope on it.
The intercom buzzed, and I picked it up.
Susan said, “I’m in the kitchen. My father will not see you in the office, but he will speak to you on the phone later – or after you return to London.”
She sounded more composed now – or maybe shell-shocked. I replied, “All right.”
“He’s going out to the car so that I can spend a few minutes alone with my mother.”
“Fine.”
“Please don’t go out to speak to him.”
“I won’t.” I said to her, “I’ll see you after they leave.” I hung up.
I heard the front door open, and I saw William walking to his car.
I’m usually in control of a situation, or if I’m not, I take control. But there are times – like this time – when the best thing to do is nothing. And, really, what did I need to say to William Stanhope? I didn’t need to tell him what I thought of him – he already knew that.