1 PM
TONI was overwhelmed by the scene in the kitchen: adults and children, servants and pets, drinking wine and preparing food and quarreling and laughing at jokes. It had been like walking into a really good party where she knew nobody. She wanted to join in, but she felt excluded. This was Stanley's life, she thought. He and his wife had created this group, this home, this warmth. She admired him for it, and envied his children. They probably had no idea how privileged they were. She had stood there for several minutes, bemused but fascinated. No wonder he was so attached to his family.
It thrilled and dismayed her. She could, if she allowed herself, entertain a fantasy about being part of it, sitting beside Stanley as his wife, loving him and his children, basking2 in the comfort of their togetherness. But she repressed that dream. It was impossible, and she should not torture herself. The very strength of the family bonds kept her out.
When at last they noticed her, she got a hard look from both daughters, Olga and Miranda. It was a careful scrutiny3: detailed4, unapologetic, hostile. She had got a similar look from Lori, the cook, though more discreet5.
She understood the daughters' reaction. For thirty years Marta had ruled that kitchen. They would have felt disloyal to her had they not been hostile. Any woman Stanley liked could turn into a threat. She could disrupt the family. She might change their father's attitudes, turn his affections in new directions. She might bear him children, half-brothers and half-sisters who would care nothing about the history of the original family, would not be bound to them with the unbreakable chains of a shared childhood. She would take some of their inheritance, perhaps all of it. Was Stanley sensing these undercurrents? As she followed him into his study, she felt again the maddening frustration6 of not knowing what was in his mind.
It was a masculine room, with a Victorian pedestal desk, a bookcase full of weighty microbiology texts, and a worn leather couch in front of a log fire. The dog followed them in and stretched out by the fire like a curly black rug. On the mantelpiece was a framed photograph of a dark-haired teenage girl in tennis whites—the same girl as the bride in the picture on his office wall. Her brief shorts showed long, athletic7 legs. The heavy eye makeup8 and the hair band told Toni that the picture had been taken in the sixties. "Was Marta a scientist, too?" Toni asked.
"No. Her degree was in English. When I met her, she was teaching A-level Italian at a high school in Cambridge."
Toni was surprised. She had imagined that Marta must have shared Stanley's passion for his work. So, she thought, you don't need a doctorate9 in biology to be married to him. "She was pretty."
"Devastating," Stanley replied. "Beautiful, tall, sexy, foreign, a demon10 on the court, a heartbreaker off it. I was struck by lightning. Five minutes after I met her, I was in love."
"And she with you?"
"That took longer. She was surrounded by admirers. Men fell like flies. I could never understand why she picked me in the end. She used to say she couldn't resist an egghead."
No mystery there, Toni thought. Marta had liked what Toni liked: Stanley's strength. You knew right away that here was a man who would do what he said and be what he seemed to be, a man you could rely on. He had other attractions, too: he was warm and clever and even well dressed.
She wanted to say But how do you feel now? Are you still married to her memory? But Stanley was her boss. She had no right to ask him about his deepest feelings. And there was Marta, on the mantelpiece, wielding11 her tennis racket like a cudgel.
Sitting on the couch beside Stanley, she tried to put her emotions aside and concentrate on the crisis at hand. "Did you call the U.S. embassy?" she asked him.
"Yes. I got Mahoney calmed down, for the moment, but he'll be watching the news like us."
A lot hung on the next few minutes, Toni thought. The company could be destroyed or saved, Stanley could be bankrupted, she could lose her job, and the world could lose the services of a great scientist. Don't panic, she told herself; be practical. She took a notebook from her shoulder bag. Cynthia Creighton was videotaping the news, back at the office, so Toni would be able to watch it again later, but she would now jot12 down any immediate13 thoughts.
The Scottish news came on before the UK bulletin.
The death of Michael Ross was still the top story, but the report was introduced by a newsreader, not Carl Osborne. That was a good sign, Toni thought hopefully. There was no more of Carl's laughably inaccurate14 science. The virus was correctly named as Madoba-2. The anchor was careful to point out that Michael's death would be investigated by the sheriff at an inquest.
"So far, so good," Stanley murmured.
Toni said, "It looks to me as if a senior news executive watched Carl Osborne's sloppy15 report over breakfast and came in to the office determined16 to sharpen up the coverage18."
The picture switched to the gates of the Kremlin. "Animal-rights campaigners took advantage of the tragedy to stage a protest outside Oxenford Medical," the anchor said. Toni was pleasantly surprised. That sentence was more favorable than she would have hoped. It implied the demonstrators were cynical19 media manipulators.
After a brief shot of the demo, the report cut to the Great Hall. Toni heard her own voice, sounding more Scots than she expected, outlining the security system at the laboratory. This was not very effective, she realized: just a voice droning on about alarms and guards. It might have been better to let the cameras film the air-lock entrance to BSL4, with its fingerprint20 recognition system and submarine doors. Pictures were always better than words.
Then there was a shot of Carl Osborne asking, "Exactly what danger did this rabbit pose to the general public?"
Toni leaned forward on the couch. This was the crunch21.
They played the interchange between Carl and Stanley, with Carl posing disaster scenarios22 and Stanley saying how unlikely they were. This was bad, Toni knew. The audience would remember the idea of wildlife becoming infected, even though Stanley had said firmly that it was not possible.
On the screen, Carl said, "But Michael could have given the virus to other people."
Stanley replied gravely, "By sneezing, yes."
Unfortunately, they cut the exchange at that point.
Stanley muttered, "Bloody23 hell."
"It's not over yet," Toni said. It could get better—or worse.
Toni hoped they would show her hasty intervention24, when she had tried to counter the impression of complacency by saying that Oxenford Medical was not trying to downplay the risk. But, instead, there was a shot of Susan Mackintosh on the phone, with a voice-over explaining how the company was calling every employee to check whether they had had contact with Michael Ross. That was all right, Toni thought with relief. The danger was bluntly stated, but the company was shown taking positive action.
The final press conference shot was a close-up of Stanley, looking responsible, saying, "In time, we will defeat influenza25, and AIDS, and even cancer—and it will be done by scientists like us, working in laboratories such as this."
"That's good," Toni said.
"Will it outweigh26 the dialogue with Osborne, about infecting wildlife?"
"I think so. You look so reassuring27.'
Then there was a shot of the canteen staff giving out steaming hot drinks to the demonstrators in the snow. "Great—they used it!" said Toni.
"I didn't see this," Stanley said. "Whose idea was it?"
"Mine."
Carl Osborne thrust a microphone into the face of a woman employee and said, "These people are demonstrating against your company. Why are you giving them coffee?"
"Because it's cold out here," the woman replied.
Toni and Stanley laughed, delighted with the woman's wit and the positive way it reflected on the company.
The anchor reappeared and said, "The First Minister of Scotland issued a statement this morning, saying, 'I have today spoken to representatives of Oxenford Medical, the Inverburn police, and the Inverburn regional health authority, and I am satisfied that everything possible is being done ro ensure that there is no further danger to the public' And now other news."
Toni said, "My God, I think we saved the day."
"Giving out hot drinks was a great idea—when did you think of that?"
"At the last minute. Let's see what the UK news says."
In the main bulletin, the story of Michael Ross came second, after an earthquake in Russia. The report used some of the same footage, but without Carl Osborne, who was a personality only in Scotland. There was a clip of Stanley saying, "The virus is not very infectious across species. In order to infect Michael, we think the rabbit must have bitten him." There was a low-key statement from the British Environment Minister in London. The report continued the same unhysterical tone of the Scottish news. Toni was hugely relieved.
Stanley said, "It's good to know that not all journalists are like Carl Osborne."
"He asked me to have dinner with him." Toni wondered why she was idling him this.
Stanley looked surprised. "Ha la faccia peggio del culo!"he said. "Hell of a nerve."
She laughed. What he had actually said was "His face is worse than his arse," presumably one of Marta's expressions. "He's an attractive man," she said.
"You don't really think so, do you?"
"He's handsome, anyway." She realized she was trying to make him jealous. Don't play games, she told herself.
He said, "What did you say to him?"
"I turned him down, of course."
"I should think so, too." Stanley looked embarrassed and added, "Not that it's any of my business, but he's not worthy30 of you, not by a light-year." He returned his attention to the television and switched to an all-news channel.
They watched footage of Russian earthquake victims and rescue teams for a couple of minutes. Toni felt foolish for having told Stanley about Osborne, but pleased by his reaction.
The Michael Ross story followed, and once again the tone was coolly factual. Stanley turned off the set. "Well, we escaped crucifixion by TV."
"No newspapers tomorrow, as it's Christmas Day," Toni observed. "By Thursday the story will be old. I think we're in the clear—barring unexpected developments."
"Yes. If we lost another rabbit, we'd be right back in trouble."
"There will be no more security incidents at the lab," Toni said firmly. "I'll make sure of that."
Stanley nodded. "I have to say, you've handled this whole thing extraordinarily31 well. I'm very grateful to you."
Toni glowed. "We told the truth, and they believed us," she said.
They smiled at each other. It was a moment of happy intimacy32. Then the phone rang.
Stanley reached across his desk and picked it up. "Oxenford," he said. "Yes, patch him through here, please, I'm keen to speak to him." He looked up at Toni and mouthed, "Mahoney."
Toni stood up nervously33. She and Stanley were convinced they had controlled the publicity34 well—but would the U.S. government agree? She watched Stanley's face.
He spoke28 into the phone. "Hello again, Larry, did you watch the news? . . . I'm glad you think so ... We've avoided the kind of hysterical29 reaction that you feared . . . You know my facilities director, Antonia Gallo—she handled the press ... A great job, I agree . . . Absolutely right, we must keep a very tight grip on security from now on ... yes. Good of you to call. Bye."
Stanley hung up and grinned at Toni. "We're in the clear." Exuberantly35, he put his arms around her and hugged her.
She pressed her face into his shoulder. The tweed of his waistcoat was surprisingly soft. She breathed in the warm, faint smell of him, and realized it was a long time since she had been this close to a man. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him back, feeling her breasts press against his chest.
She would have stayed like that forever, but after a few seconds he gently disengaged, looking bashful. As if to restore propriety36, he shook her hand. "All credit to you," he said.
The brief moment of physical contact had aroused her. Oh, God, she thought, I'm wet, how could it happen so quickly?
He said, "Would you like to see the house?"
"I'd love to." Toni was pleased. A man rarely offered to show guests around the house. It was another kind of intimacy.
The two rooms she had already seen, kitchen and study, were at the hack37, looking onto a yard surrounded by outbuildings. Stanley led Toni to the front of the house and into a dining room with a view of the sea. This part looked like a new extension to the old farmhouse38. In a corner was a cabinet of silver cups. "Marta's tennis trophies," Stanley said proudly. "She had a backhand like a rocket launcher."
"How far did she get with her tennis?"
"She qualified39 for Wimbledon, but never competed because she got pregnant with Olga."
Across the hall, also overlooking the sea, was a drawing room with a Christmas tree. The gifts under the tree spilled across the floor. There was another picture of Marta, a full-length painting of her as a woman of forty. with a fuller figure and a softness around her jawline. It was a warm, pleasant room, but nobody was in it, and Toni guessed the real heart of the house was the kitchen.
The layout was simple: drawing room and dining room at the front, kitchen and study at the back. "There's not much to see upstairs," Stanley said, but he went up anyway, and Toni followed. Was she being shown around her future home? she asked herself. It was a stupid fantasy, and she pushed it aside quickly. He was just being nice.
But he had hugged her.
In the older part of the house, over the study and drawing room, were three small bedrooms and a bathroom. They still bore traces of the children who had grown up in them. There was a poster of the Clash on one wall, an old cricket bat with its grip unraveling in a corner, a complete set of The Chronicles of Narnia on a shelf.
In the new extension was a master bedroom suite40 with a dressing41 room and a bathroom. The king-size bed was made and the rooms were tidy. Toni felt both excited and uncomfortable to be in Stanley's bedroom. Yet another picture of Marta stood on the bedside table, this one a color photograph taken in her fifties. Her hair was a witchy gray and her face was thin, no doubt by reason of the cancer that had killed her. It was an unflattering photo. Toni thought how much Stanley must still love her, to cherish even this unhappy memento42.
She did not know what to expect next. Would he make a move, with his wife watching from the bedside table and his children downstairs? She felt it was not his style. He might be thinking of it, but he would not jump a woman so suddenly. He would feel that etiquette43 demanded he woo her in the normal way. To hell with dinner and a movie, she wanted to say; just grab me, for God's sake. But she kept silent, and after showing her the marble bathroom, he led the way back downstairs.
The tour was a privilege, of course, and should have drawn44 her closer to Stanley; but in fact she felt excluded, as if she had looked in through a window at a family sitting at table, absorbed in one another and self-sufficient. She felt a sense of anticlimax45.
In the hall, the big poodle nudged Stanley with her nose. "Nellie wants to go outside," he said. He looked out of the little window beside the door. "The snow has stopped—shall we get a breath of air?" Sure.
Toni put on her parka and Stanley picked up an old blue anorak. They stepped outside to find the world painted white. Toni's Porsche Boxster stood beside Stanley's Ferrari F50 and two other cars, each topped with snow, like iced cakes. The dog headed for the cliff, evidently taking a habitual46 route. Stanley and Toni followed. Toni realized that the dog bore a distinct resemblance to the late Marta, with her curly black hair.
Their feet displaced the powdery snow to reveal tough seaside grass beneath. They crossed a long lawn. A few stunted47 trees grew at angles, blown slantwise by the tireless wind. They met two of the children coming back from the cliff: the older boy with the attractive grin and the sulky girl with the pierced navel. Toni remembered their names: Craig and Sophie. When Stanley had introduced everyone, in the kitchen, she had memorized every detail eagerly. Craig was working hard to charm Sophie, Toni could see, but the girl walked along with her arms crossed, looking at the ground. Toni envied the simplicity48 of the choices they faced. They were young and single, at the beginning of adulthood49, with nothing to do but embrace the adventure of life. She wanted to tell Sophie not to play hard to get. Take love while you can, she thought; it may not always come to you so easily.
"What are your Christmas plans?" Stanley asked.
"About as different from yours as could be. I'm going to a health spa with some friends, all singles or childless couples, for a grown-up Christmas. No turkey, no crackers50, no stockings, no Santa. Just gentle pampering51 and adult conversation."
"It sounds wonderful. I thought you usually had your mother."
"I have done for the past few years. But this Christmas my sister Bella is taking her—somewhat to my surprise."
"Surprise?"
Toni made a wry52 face. "Bella has three children, and she feels that excuses her from other responsibilities. I'm not sure that's fair, but I love my sister, so I accept it."
"Do you want to have children, one day?"
She caught her breath. It was a deeply intimate question. She wondered what answer he would prefer to hear. She did not know, so she told the truth. "Maybe. It was the one thing my sister always wanted. The desire for babies dominated her life. I'm not like that. I envy you your family—they obviously love and respect you and like being with you. But I don't necessarily want to sacrifice everything else in life in order to become a parent."
"I'm not sure you have to sacrifice everything," Stanley said.
You didn't, Toni thought, but what about Marta's chance at Wimbledon? But she said something else. "And you? You could start another family."
"Oh, no," he said quickly. "My children would be most put out."
Toni felt a little disappointed that he was so decisive about that.
They reached the cliff. To the left, the headland sloped down to a beach, now carpeted with snow. To the right, the ground dropped sheer into the sea. On that side, the edge was barred by a stout53 wooden fence four feet high, big enough to deter17 small children without obstructing54 the view. They both leaned on the fence and looked at the waves a hundred feet below. There was a long, deep swell55, rising and falling like the chest of a sleeping giant. "What a lovely spot," Toni said.
"Four hours ago I thought I was going to lose it."
"Your home?"
He nodded. "I had to pledge the place as security for my overdraft56. If I go bust57, the bank takes the house."
"But your family . . ."
"They would be heartbroken. And now, since Marta went, they're all I really care about."
"All?" she said.
He shrugged58. "In the end, yes."
She looked at him. His expression was serious but unsentimental. Why was he telling her this? As a message, Toni assumed. It was not true that his children were all he cared about—he was profoundly involved in his work. But he wanted her to understand how important the family's unity59 was to him. Having seen them together in the kitchen, she could understand it. But why had he chosen this moment to say so? Perhaps he was afraid he might have given her a wrong impression.
She needed to know the truth. An awful lot had happened in the last few hours, but all of it was ambiguous. He had touched her, hugged her, shown her his house, and asked her if she wanted children. Did it mean anything, or not? She had to know. She said, "You're telling me you'd never do anything to jeopardize60 what I saw in your kitchen, the togetherness of your family."
"Yes. They all draw their strength from it, whether they realize it or not."
She faced him and looked directly into his eyes. "And that's so important to you that you would never start another family." Yes.
The message was clear, Toni thought. He liked her, but he was not going to take it any farther. The hug in the study had been a spontaneous expression of triumph; the tour of the house an unguarded moment of intimacy; and now he was pulling back. Reason had prevailed. She felt [cars come to her eyes. Horrified61 that she might be showing her emotions, she turned away, saying, "This wind . . ."
She was saved by young Tom, who came running through the snow, calling, "Grandpa! Grandpa! Uncle Kit1's here!"
They went with the boy back to the house, not speaking, both embarrassed.
A fresh double row of tire tracks led to a black Peugeot coupe. It was not much of a car, but it looked stylish—just right for Kit, Toni thought sourly. She did not want to meet him. She would not have relished62 the prospect63 at the best of times, and right now she was too bruised64 to face an abrasive65 encounter. But her shoulder bag was in the house, so she was obliged to follow Stanley inside.
Kit was in the kitchen, being welcomed by his family—like the prodigal66 son. Toni thought. Miranda hugged him, Olga kissed him, Luke and Lori beamed, and Nellie barked for his attention. Toni stood at the kitchen door and watched Stanley greet his son. Kit looked wary67. Stanley seemed both pleased and grieved, in the way he did when he spoke of Marta. Kit held out a hand to shake, but his father embraced him. "I'm very glad you came, my boy," Stanley said. "Very glad indeed."
Kit said, "I'd better get my bag from the car. I'm in the cottage, yeah?"
Miranda looked nervous and said, "No, you're upstairs."
"But—"
Olga overrode68 him. "Don't make a fuss—Daddy has decided69, and it's his house."
Toni saw a flash of pure rage in Kit's eyes, but he covered up quickly. "Whatever," he said. He was trying to give the impression that it was no big deal, but that flash said otherwise, and Toni wondered what secret project he had that made him so keen to sleep outside the main house tonight.
She slipped into Stanley's study. The memory of that hug came back to her in force. That was the closest she was going to get to making love to him, she thought. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve.
Her notebook and bag lay on his antique desk where she had left them. She slid the notebook into the bag, slung70 the bag over her shoulder, and returned to the hall.
Looking into the kitchen, she saw Stanley saying something to the cook. She waved to him. He interrupted his conversation and came over. "Toni, thanks for everything."
"Happy Christmas."
"To you, too." She went out quickly.
Kit was outside, opening the boot of his car. Glancing into it, Toni saw a couple of gray boxes, computer equipment of some kind. Kit was an IT specialist, but what did he need to bring with him for Christmas at his father's house?
She hoped to pass him without speaking but, as she was opening her car door, he looked up and caught her eye. "Happy Christmas, Kit," she said politely.
He lifted a small suitcase from the boot and slammed the lid. "Get lost, bitch," he said, and he walked into the house.
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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basking
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| v.晒太阳，取暖( bask的现在分词 )；对…感到乐趣；因他人的功绩而出名；仰仗…的余泽 | |
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scrutiny
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| n.详细检查，仔细观察 | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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frustration
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| n.挫折，失败，失效，落空 | |
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athletic
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| adj.擅长运动的，强健的；活跃的，体格健壮的 | |
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makeup
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| n.组织；性格；化装品 | |
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doctorate
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| n.(大学授予的)博士学位 | |
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demon
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| n.魔鬼，恶魔 | |
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wielding
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| 手持着使用（武器、工具等）( wield的现在分词 )； 具有； 运用（权力）； 施加（影响） | |
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jot
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| n.少量；vi.草草记下；vt.匆匆写下 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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inaccurate
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| adj.错误的，不正确的，不准确的 | |
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sloppy
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| adj.邋遢的，不整洁的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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deter
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| vt.阻止，使不敢，吓住 | |
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coverage
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| n.报导，保险范围，保险额，范围，覆盖 | |
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cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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fingerprint
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| n.指纹；vt.取...的指纹 | |
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crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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scenarios
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| n.[意]情节；剧本；事态；脚本 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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influenza
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| n.流行性感冒，流感 | |
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outweigh
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| vt.比...更重，...更重要 | |
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reassuring
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| a.使人消除恐惧和疑虑的，使人放心的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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publicity
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| n.众所周知，闻名；宣传，广告 | |
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exuberantly
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| adv.兴高采烈地，活跃地，愉快地 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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suite
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| n.一套(家具)；套房；随从人员 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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memento
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| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
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etiquette
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| n.礼仪，礼节；规矩 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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anticlimax
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| n.令人扫兴的结局；突降法 | |
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habitual
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| adj.习惯性的；通常的，惯常的 | |
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stunted
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| adj.矮小的；发育迟缓的 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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adulthood
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| n.成年，成人期 | |
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crackers
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| adj.精神错乱的，癫狂的n.爆竹( cracker的名词复数 )；薄脆饼干；（认为）十分愉快的事；迷人的姑娘 | |
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pampering
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| v.纵容，宠，娇养( pamper的现在分词 ) | |
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wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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obstructing
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| 阻塞( obstruct的现在分词 )； 堵塞； 阻碍； 阻止 | |
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swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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overdraft
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| n.透支，透支额 | |
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bust
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| vt.打破；vi.爆裂；n.半身像；胸部 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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unity
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| n.团结，联合，统一；和睦，协调 | |
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jeopardize
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| vt.危及，损害 | |
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horrified
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| a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
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relished
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| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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abrasive
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| adj.使表面磨损的；粗糙的；恼人的 | |
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prodigal
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| adj.浪费的，挥霍的，放荡的 | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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overrode
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| 越控( override的过去式 )； （以权力）否决； 优先于； 比…更重要 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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slung
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| 抛( sling的过去式和过去分词 )； 吊挂； 遣送； 押往 | |
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