wept.
IT WAS RmNiNG WHEN she touched down at Heathrow. A soft spring rain
that made her think of daffodils. With her camera case slung over her
arm, she walked through the gate. Johnno met her and gave her a
smacking kiss. Then kept his arm around her to steer her through the
terminal. "Pete's having your luggage sent over." He turned her away
from baggage claim and toward the exit doors.
"Remind me to kiss his feet."
When he opened the door of a limo, Emma lifted her brow.
"I hate airport traffic," Johnno claimed. When he'd settled in, he
poured two glasses of Pepsi and offered her a bag of chips. "Besides,
this way we can eat. How'd you handle the flight?"
"With Dramamine and prayer." She dove into the chips. Eating on a plane
was a luxury her stomach couldn't afford. "Don't worry. I stocked up
on both for the tour."
"Glad to have you aboard."
She stalled, asking questions, keeping it light. He said nothing when
she reached up and closed the privacy glass between the backseat and the
driver.
"I appreciate your coming to pick me up."
"I figured you had a reason."
"Yes. Can I have a cigarette?"
He took two out, lighted them both. "Serious?"
"Very." She took two long pulls on the Gauloise. "Luke came to see me a
couple of days ago."
"He's in New York?"
"Yes ... We had dinner."
"That's nice. So how is he?"
Keeping her eyes lowered, Emma took the envelope out of her purse. "He
wanted me to give you this."
She turned to study the dreamy rain while he opened the envelope. He
read in silence. There was only the quiet hum of the motor, the gentle
lap of rain, the muted music of a Chopin prelude from the speakers. She
waited, a minute, then five, before she looked at Johnnoagain.
He was staring straight ahead, his eyes blank. The letter lay in his
lap where he had dropped it. When he turned to look at her, her heart
wrenched.
"You know?"
"Yes, he told me." Not knowing what else to do, she took Johnno's hand
in both of hers. "I'm sorry, Johnno. So sorry."
"He's worried about me." Johnno's voice was dull as he stared back down
at the letter. "He wants to make sure I go in for tests. And hehe
wanted to reassure me that he'd keep quiet about our relationship.
Jesus." His head fell back on a hollow laugh. "Jesus Christ. He's
dying and he wants me to know my reputation's safe."
"It matters to him."
His throat was raw. There were tears in it, he realized and took
another rough drag on his cigarette. "He was important to me, dammit.
Now he's dying, and what am I supposed to say? Thanks, old man. Damn
sporting of you to take my secret to the grave."