Page 126 of Return to the Lake House
‘I do,’ said Jake. ‘Delegate.’
Marcus looked at him, aghast, as though he’d just suggested he hand over the reins to somebody else. He said, ‘I don’t trust anyone implicitly like I trust you – we were partners.’
‘The best,’ said Jake, remembering the cut and thrust of those business deals, the feel of elation at every new contract scored, the sense of achievement at each new ceremonial brick that was laid in the foundations at the start of a new project. ‘I’ve got a new job now, a new life. It’s where I belong, Marcus. You have to accept that.’
‘I don’t know how to delegate,’ Marcus said miserably.
‘Then learn,’ said Jake. ‘I know that since I left, you’ve been virtually doing both our jobs.’
‘How on earth could you possibly know that?’
‘Oh, let’s just say I have my sources.’ Jake let him stew a little before adding, ‘It’s those women from the London office that you keep setting me up on dates with. It’s been very enlightening.’
Marcus opened his mouth to protest that it wasn’t him,realised he’d been rumbled, and shut it again.
Jake continued, ‘You think you’ve been keeping tabs on me? Marcus, I’ve been keeping tabs on you. I found out you’ve been working like no sane human being can – without some help of the chemical variety, that is. And with a little insider gossip coming my way about whose been hired, fired, and promoted, I made a very good bet about what was going on. And you know I’m not a betting man.’
Jake knew that no young blood had been hired or promoted since his impromptu departure, and that left a board of ancient directors who had been there since time immemorial. They turned up to board meetings like self-important hens, and they did bring with them years of accumulated business acumen to make critical decisions for the company. But who implemented them? Who saw the job through to completion?
Jake realised that for Marcus, the past few months must have been hell. Times had changed. Where once there had been three executive directors at the helm – William, Jake and Marcus – taking equal share in the day-to-day responsibilities, now there was one. And there was nothing Jake could do about that. He couldn’t go back. But he was prepared to cut Marcus some slack, for old times’ sake. ‘Marcus, have you ever heard of rehab clinics?’
Marcus looked at him blankly.
‘There’s a luxury residential clinic in London. I looked it up online. It’s the sort of place where celebrities go who are suffering from …’ Jake chose his words carefully, ‘exhaustion.’ It was a familiar euphemism, which as far as most people were concerned, Jake included, meant attempting to kick their latest addiction, and having some very expensive therapy sessions thrown in.
‘If you think for one second that I’m going to check myself in to some clinic with a bunch of—’
‘People, Marcus. They’re only people like you and me, trying to make sense of their lives, trying to make sense of the hands they’ve been dealt – that’s all. If you just stopped to think about it for a moment, you’d know it makes sense. You need to sort yourself out, Marcus, and you need to do it now. But you can’t do it on your own.’
Jake was playing theyou’ve got to be cruel to be kindcard. And he had another card up his sleeve, or at least he hoped the clinic did; it was called the therapy card. Jake secretly hoped that while they helped him kick his habit, the counsellors could help him face his demons; Marcus was suffering from denial. Perhaps, this way, Marcus would come to some sort of acceptance of his part in Eleanor’s condition, and there would be closure for them both.
Marcus still had to deal with what had really happened on the ski slope when he’d found the two of them buried in the snow after the avalanche. There had been no one else up there, although Marcus had convinced himself there was. If only he could come to terms with the truth.
Jake would gladly have taken her place. The fact was that if Marcus had dug out Eleanor first, Jake would be in that hospital now rather than Eleanor, and maybe their baby would still be alive. Jake would never go so far as to tell Marcus what else they had lost that day when he’d made the decision to dig Jake out first instead of his sister. No one else knew about the baby. They’d never had a chance to make the announcement.
He studied Marcus. ‘Good,’ he said, detecting a hint of resignation in those dark eyes. ‘I’ve still got plenty of holiday left, so what I propose …’ Jake drew a long breath in the knowledge that once he’d said it, he couldn’t go back on it. Was he sure he wanted to do this? Not in a million years. But what he was sure of was that it was time to help Marcus. He wished a fist in the face would bring Marcus to his senses, as Marcus’s punch haddone for him, but he knew it could never be that simple.
‘What I propose is this. While you’re out of the office for … oh, a week or so at rehab …’ Jake wondered how long Marcus would need in the clinic. He really didn’t want to spend the rest of the school holidays, which amounted to about six weeks, back at the Ross Corporation. But if he really had to, for Marcus to sort himself out once and for all, then so be it. He had the time. At least he could console himself with the thought that he’d be returning for the new school year in September.
Jake took a deep breath, and said, ‘I’ll hold the fort until—’
‘You’re coming back?’ Marcus said eagerly.
‘No, Marcus. It’s just temporary – that’s all. I’ll make sure the board doesn’t do anything else behind your back while you’re away. I’ll be your eyes and ears.’
‘You’d do that for me?’ Marcus wasn’t stupid; he knew how hard it was for Jake to return.
‘Of course I would, you idiot.’ Jake smiled at him. ‘But as soon as you’re back, I’m history.’ He wagged a finger at Marcus. ‘Is that understood?’
Marcus understood. Jake had found more than a new job these past few months; he had found another woman that he loved, and the guilt was eating him alive. For Jake to move on with his life, it would have been better if Eleanor had died. Marcus understood this now. Jake had to believe – however insanely – that this was true. It was the only way to distance himself from her and continue to be a functioning human being.
But it was over. It had to be – this charade, this deceit. And what Marcus wanted now more than anything was for Jake to stop blaming him for Eleanor’s fate. So he was going to check himself into the clinic Jake had suggested, if for no other reason than to give Jake an opportunity to take that step back into hisold life. Maybe, just maybe, it would be like another fist in the face; the fist of reality forcing him to face the truth that it had been an accident, pure and simple; nobody could have done a thing to change the outcome. Her fate had been sealed the moment she had stepped out of that cable car onto the ski slopes with an insane idea in her head that would lead them all off-piste and into a living nightmare. Only time might heal some of the pain that her absence had left behind.
Marcus knew part of that healing process would be for them to visit Eleanor, to accept what had happened and move on. But neither of them were ready for that; not yet. Marcus knew he’d have to get through his little sojourn at the clinic first. And then he had someone to find – the other person who had been on that ski slope, and who had dug Jake out of the snow first after the avalanche. It wasn’t him. He just had to convince Jake of that fact.
He knew what Jake was thinking: that he was in denial over what had really happened. Marcus knew better. He just had to find the person to prove it.
Marcus got out of the car. ‘You okay to drive?’ he said, holding the driver’s door open as Jake got in.
