Page 114 of The Love Letter
‘The chicken, thanks.’
Simon ordered the food, a pint for himself and a Coke for Jamie.
‘So, how’s your week been?’ He couldn’t help noticing how similar Jamie was to his mother. The same startling blue eyes, thick blond hair and delicate features.
‘Fine,’ Jamie said uncertainly. ‘How long is Mumma away for?’
‘I don’t know exactly. I think she’ll probably be back sometime next week.’
‘Oh. What kind of work is it?’
‘Some TV commercial, I think. I’m not sure.’
Jamie took a sip of his Coke. ‘Are you staying at the house in London?’
‘Actually, tomorrow, I’ve decided to go do a bit of touring. Scotland, maybe Ireland. How’s school?’ Simon moved the subject on.
‘Okay. You know, the same.’
‘Right.’
Simon was grateful when their food arrived. Jamie picked at his chicken, answering most attempts at conversation in monosyllables. He refused pudding, even though there was homemade apple pie with ice cream on the menu.
‘I remember always yumming everything up when my parents came to take me out for lunch from school. You sure you’re okay, old chap?’
‘Yes. Do they have boarding schools in New Zealand?’
‘I . . . yes, of course they do. If you’re miles away from anything, on a sheep farm, you have to board in the city,’ Simon invented. ‘Sure I can’t tempt you to a pudding?’
‘Positive.’
Simon was relieved when it was time to take the boy back to school. Jamie sat in the car staring out of the window, humming to himself.
‘What’s that you’re humming?’
‘A nursery rhyme, “Ring a Ring o’ Roses”. Great-James used to sing it to me all the time. When I got older, he told me it was all about people dying of the Black Death.’
‘Do you miss him, Jamie?’
‘Yes. But I know he’s still looking after me from heaven.’
‘I’m sure he is.’
‘And I still have his roses to remind me of him on earth.’
‘Roses?’
‘Yeah. Great-James loved roses. He has them on his grave now.’
Simon brought the car to a halt in front of the school and Jamie opened the door to climb out. ‘Thanks for lunch, Simon. Safe journey back to London.’
‘Any time. Bye, Jamie.’
Simon watched as Jamie raced up the steps and inside the school. Sighing, he drove the car back along the gravel drive and out of the school. When he arrived back at his flat an hour later, there was a message on his answering machine.
‘Report to me at zero eight hundred hours tomorrow morning.’
Knowing his short break was well and truly at its end, Simon made himself a Caesar salad, then showered and took himself off to bed, trying not to imagine Zoe together with her prince in Spain.
