Page 23 of Companion Required

Chapter Eleven

Kennedy

Kennedy stood hidden from view inside the shade of the open-air kitchen, a mug of fresh coffee held against his chest, watching in wonderment as his family and Kieran chatted amiably around the breakfast table.

Over the past few days, Reagan had rearranged her plans. Sunday, she had booked them all into the St Regis for a champagne brunch—much to his mother’s delight. On Monday, a public holiday, she had taken Kieran and her kids to Universal Studios, while his mother and father had gone off to play golf. Kennedy had declined the theme park, needing time to catch up on work and make some urgent calls.

Just as well, too, because he’d heard from Karl how, just that morning, Milletto had once again requested a change of dates for the meeting, now in the middle of the last week of Kennedy’s holiday, when he would be in Bali. More worryingly, Karl had an urgent meeting with their financial auditors that particular day, one he could not shrug off. At ten in the morning GMT, Kennedy had arranged a team conference call to find out more, and ended by telling them he would most likely be dialling in for the meeting and to please use their main conference room. He had his reasons. But he also wanted to know what Sloan’s next move would be. When he put the phone down, he checked his private email to see if Tim had sent him anything, but nothing had yet arrived. Determined not to let this development spoil his holiday, he finished his work and went for a punishing swim.

Now, Tuesday, their last morning together, Reagan had turned up alone for breakfast to see them off, having dropped the boys off at school. Four days into the holiday and Kieran had already proven his worth. Kennedy watched Kieran talking animatedly, envied his easy nature, the way he comfortably chatted to anyone. Reagan’s kids, who rarely engaged Kennedy, already referred to him as Uncle Kieran. What the hell was he supposed to do with that when all this was over?

Something in Kennedy had changed, too. He could feel as much deep down. Rarely had he enjoyed visiting his parents. Most other times he would have ended up arguing with his father about one thing or another—or with Patrick—and usually couldn’t wait to get the fuck out. Maybe they had all mellowed with age, but seeing his sister laughing now reminded him how much he loved and missed her.

“Your friend. He very nice man,” came Matty’s voice beside him. When Kennedy turned, Matty was holding a tray with toast, butter and assorted pots of Maya’s homemade fruit jam. “He come this morning to thank me and my wife for everything, said she is very, very good wife and cook—and probably much too good for me.”

Matty’s laughter had Kennedy grinning, too. Yes, that sounded like Kieran.

“I tell him, sorry, she not understand English.”

Kennedy laughed along with Matty, which had Kieran and his sister looking over and smiling at them. Today they embarked on the next part of their journey, and he wondered how Kieran would fare with his friends.

“Here, let me take that,” said Kennedy, putting his mug on a countertop and taking the tray. “I need to be the good son and join them. I’ll come and say goodbye before we leave.”

As he approached the table, his mother singled him out.

“Your father’s offered to drive you to the port.”

Kennedy placed the tray in the middle of the table and gave his sister a quizzical look. All of them knew only too well not to arrange things for his father on Tuesdays, when he attended his old boys’ club—held sacrosanct in his retirement, the one day of the week he spent with his ex-consulate and other male buddies.

“There’s no need. We can call a taxi.”

“I’ll take you. No point wasting money,” said his father, turning a page of his newspaper.

“What about club day?”

“There’ll be plenty more of those. Family comes first.”

Kennedy sat down heavily. Had he shifted into another dimension overnight? When he looked at Reagan she shrugged, also looking bewildered.

“In which case,” said Reagan, standing, “I need to go home, tidy up and do some urgent chores.”

She came around the table, giving each of her parents a hug, before stopping at Kieran. He stood up from his seat and hugged her. Kennedy had no idea what she said, but she whispered something in his ear that had him grinning broadly and nodding. When she reached Kennedy, she grabbed his arm and pulled him up.

“Come on. You can walk me to the car.”

In comfortable silence, arms linked, they strolled towards the car canopy and stopped to face each other at the front grille of her black SUV.

“It was great to see you and the boys, Reagan. Send my love to Bernie when he gets back. Tell him I’m sorry we missed him.”

When they hugged, she clung on tightly and when she did let go, an odd expression transformed her face, part affection, part sadness. Maybe she had enjoyed having him back in her part of the world, but there seemed something more.

“What’s going on?”

She looked away for a moment, appearing to collect herself, then met his gaze with a more stoic expression.

“Bernie’s having an affair.”

“What? Are you sure?”

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