Джеффри Арчер - The Eleventh Commandment

‘True,’ admitted Stuart. ‘So tell me,’ he said, turning his attention back to Maggie, ‘when does Dr O’Casey arrive in Oz?’

Maggie unfolded the letter again and read out:

‘I’m flying from Chicago on the fourteenth, arriving on the fifteenth.’

‘But that’s today,’ said Stuart.

Maggie nodded before continuing:

‘I’ll be staying in Sydney overnight and then meeting the Vice-Chancellor the following day before returning to Chicago.’

She looked up. ‘He’ll be on his way home before we get back from the weekend.’

‘That’s a shame,’ said Tara. ‘After all these years, I would have liked to meet the faithful Dr Declan O’Casey.’

‘And you still could, just,’ said Stuart, glancing at his watch. ‘What time does his plane land?’

‘Eleven twenty this morning,’ said Maggie. ‘I’m afraid we’re going to miss him. And he doesn’t say where he’ll be staying, so there’s no way I can get in touch with him before he flies home.’

‘Don’t be so feeble,’ said Stuart. ‘If we leave in ten minutes, we might still get to the airport in time to meet his plane. You could invite him to join us for lunch.’

Tara looked across at her mother, who didn’t appear at all enthusiastic about the idea. ‘Even if we do make it, he’ll probably say no,’ said Maggie. ‘He’ll be jetlagged, and he’ll want to prepare for his meeting tomorrow.’

‘But at least you’ll have made the effort,’ said Tara.

Maggie folded the letter, took off her apron and said, ‘You’re right, Tara. After all these years it’s the least I can do.’ She smiled at her daughter, quickly left the kitchen and disappeared upstairs.

In her room she opened her wardrobe and picked out her favourite dress. She didn’t want Declan to think of her as middle-aged — though that was rather silly, because she was, and so was he. She inspected herself in the mirror. Passable, she decided, for fifty-one. She hadn’t put on any weight, but one or two new lines had appeared on her forehead during the last six months.

Maggie came back downstairs to find Stuart pacing up and down in the hall. She knew the car would already be loaded, probably with the engine running.

‘Come on, Tara,’ he shouted up the stairs for the third time.

Tara appeared a few minutes later, and Stuart’s impatience evaporated the moment she smiled.

As she climbed into the car Tara said, ‘I can’t wait to meet Declan. Even his name has a romantic ring to it.’

‘That’s exactly the way I felt at the time,’ said Maggie.

‘What’s in a name?’ said Stuart with a grin as he manoeuvred the car down the drive and out onto the road.

‘Quite a lot when you’re born Margaret Deirdre Burke,’ replied Maggie. Stuart burst out laughing. ‘When I was at school I once wrote a letter to myself addressed to “Dr and Mrs Declan O’Casey”. But it didn’t make him any more interesting.’ She touched her hair nervously.

‘Isn’t it just possible,’ said Tara, ‘that after all these years, Dr O’Casey might turn out to have become amusing, rugged and worldly?’

‘I doubt it,’ said Maggie. ‘I think it’s more likely he’ll be pompous, wrinkled, and still a virgin.’

‘How could you possibly have known that he was a virgin?’ asked Stuart.

‘Because he never stopped telling everybody,’ Maggie replied. ‘Declan’s idea of a romantic weekend was to deliver a trigonometry paper at a maths conference.’

Tara burst out laughing.

‘Though, to be fair, your father wasn’t a lot more experienced than he was. We spent our first night together on a park bench, and the only thing I lost was my slippers.’

Stuart was laughing so much he nearly hit the kerb.

‘I even found out how Connor lost his virginity,’ Maggie continued. ‘It was to a girl known as “Never Say No Nancy”,’ she whispered, in mock confidentiality.

‘He can’t have told you that,’ said Stuart in disbelief.

‘No, he didn’t. I would never have found out if he hadn’t been late back from football training one night. I decided to leave a message in his locker, and I found Nancy’s name scratched inside the door. But I couldn’t really complain. When I checked his team-mates’ lockers, Connor had by far the lowest score.’

Tara was now bent double with laughter, and was begging her mother to stop.

‘When your father finally...’

By the time they reached the airport Maggie had exhausted all her stories of the rivalry between Declan and Connor, and was beginning to feel rather apprehensive about meeting up with her old dancing partner after so many years.

Stuart pulled into the kerb, jumped out of the car and opened the back door for her. ‘Better hurry,’ he said, checking his watch.

‘Do you want me to come with you, Mom?’ Tara asked.

‘No, thank you,’ Maggie replied, and walked quickly towards the automatic doors before she had time to change her mind.

She checked the arrivals board. United’s Flight 815 from Chicago had landed on time, at eleven twenty. It was now nearly eleven forty. She had never been so late to meet someone off a plane in her life.

The nearer she got to the arrivals area, the slower she walked, in the hope that Declan would have time to slip away. She decided to hang around dutifully for fifteen minutes, then return to the car. She began studying the arriving passengers as they came through the gate. The young, bright and enthusiastic, carrying surfboards under their arms; the middle-aged, bustling and attentive, clutching their children; the old, slow-moving and thoughtful, bringing up the rear. She began to wonder if she would even recognise Declan. Had he already walked past her? After all, it had been over thirty years since they had last met, and he wasn’t expecting anyone to be there to greet him.

She checked her watch again — the fifteen minutes were almost up. She began to think about a plate of gnocchi and a glass of Chardonnay over lunch at Cronulla, and then dozing in the afternoon sun while Stuart and Tara surfed. Then her eyes settled on a one-armed man who was striding through the arrivals gate.

Maggie’s legs felt weak. She stared at the man she had never stopped loving, and thought she might collapse. Tears welled up in her eyes. She demanded no explanation. That could come later, much later. She ran towards him, oblivious of anyone around her.

The moment he saw her, he gave that familiar smile which showed he knew he’d been found out.

‘Oh my God, Connor,’ she said, flinging out her arms. ‘Tell me it’s true. Dear God, tell me it’s true.’

Connor held her tightly with his right arm, his left sleeve dangling by his side. ‘It’s true enough, my darling Maggie,’ he said in a broad Irish accent. ‘Unfortunately, although Presidents can fix almost anything, once they’ve killed you off you have no choice but to disappear for a little while and take on another identity.’ He released her and looked down at the woman he had wanted to hold every hour of the past six months. ‘I decided on Dr Declan O’Casey, an academic considering taking up a new appointment in Australia, because I remembered your once telling me that you’d wanted nothing more from life than to be Mrs Declan O’Casey. I was also confident that I wouldn’t be unduly troubled by too many Australians testing me on my mathematical prowess.’

Maggie looked up at him, the tears streaming down her cheeks, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

‘But the letter, my darling,’ she said. ‘The crooked “e”. How did you...?’

‘Yes, I thought you’d enjoy that touch,’ said Connor. ‘It was after I saw the picture of you in the Washington Post , standing by the grave opposite the President, and then read the glowing tributes to your late husband that I thought, Declan, my boy, this could be your last chance to marry that young Margaret Burke from the East Side.’ He smiled. ‘So how about it, Maggie?’ he said. ‘Will you marry me?’