“Exactly,” she said, laughing. “An ice cream spy! Not a very good one though. We’re a long way from Ben and Jerry’s.” He had no idea what she was talking about but laughed anyway, guessing it was some tourist attraction, wanting to keep the light mood too, giving no indication that there was any more to him than met the eye.
When they got back to the inn he thanked her for the tour and went to his room, spending an hour or so doing nothing, a professional skill he’d developed, of shutting down and letting time pass, waiting. It was the final test; if Holden was there he’d definitely know JJ had arrived by now and would come for him.
Around lunchtime though he gave up, the frustration already beginning to wear on him, the fact that nothing was happening when it was meant to be. He walked down to the Village, more like a small town as it turned out, well manicured, plenty of clapboard and picket fences and white-painted porches. It looked disturbingly familiar, a twilight zone quality dispelled only by a handful of awestruck tourists wandering around, some of them clutching jars of preserves or other wrapped gifts.
There were a few homely looking shops, a couple of restaurants, something calling itself the Old Maple Tavern which also proved to be a restaurant. Steve and his wife emerged satisfied as JJ neared it.
“Our secret’s out,” he shouted at JJ as he saw him.
“Good meal?”
“Red meat, guilty as charged.”
His wife shrugged and said, “I’m telling you, the day he dies cows everywhere will celebrate.”
“Yeah, yeah. JJ, what are your plans for tonight? I mean, if you’re eating at the inn, well so are we. Karen and me, we’d be very happy if you joined us. If you want to, I mean, if you have no other plans?”
“That’s very kind, thanks.”
The lawyer and his wife both grinned, as though the two of them had discussed the idea over lunch, and the three of them spoke on for a little while, tourist talk, their temporary location the only thing that linked them.
JJ left them and went into the tavern, ordering a chicken salad, what looked like the lightest meal on the menu. Other diners glanced over half sympathetically as he ate alone, the young waitress paying him more attention too, checking that everything was okay, asking where he was staying.
Far from being lonely though, the small talk with Steve and Karen and the dinner invitation had persuaded him to go down to Yale the next morning. For whatever reason Holden wasn’t at the Copley, that seemed obvious now, and JJ didn’t think he could stand the tourist camaraderie for more than a day, getting sucked gradually into being part of someone else’s holiday. It wasn’t something he was used to.
Susan Bostridge was more interesting, but that morning had been a one-time thing, he was certain of it, a welcoming gesture to someone who was on his own. And even then, most of what interested him about her was the link with her husband, a subject that was off the table, a subject it probably wasn’t healthy for him to be curious about either, not when he was there.
It wasn’t about fitting in or feeling comfortable anyway; he’d come there to get out from under a contract, to get Berg as Holden had implicitly promised. It didn’t seem as urgent now that he was tucked away in Vermont, no longer a matter of pure survival like finding people in his apartment, but sooner or later it would catch up with him and become that urgent again. So whether he felt comfortable there or not he had to do something, either find Holden or rule him out and consider his moves.
The afternoon was pressing on by the time he got back to the inn. He could hear her voice as he walked into the lobby and went through to the dining room, where the large table was broken up into smaller units now. Susan was sitting on the edge of one of them talking to a stocky kid in his early teens, a bag slung over his shoulder.
They both looked in his direction as he stood there, the kid fair and good-looking but with a facial resemblance to his father that was unnerving, like a flashback.
“Sorry,” said JJ quickly, “I’ll catch you later.”
“Not at all, JJ. I’d like you to meet my son.”
He halted his bid for the door and walked over to them. “I just thought you might be busy.”
“No,” she said casually, “just chewing the fat after a day at school. This is Jackson.”
“Jack,” the kid cut in, good-humored but raising his eyes skyward.
“Hello, Jack. I’m JJ.” He shook hands; Jack’s grip was soft like it was a form of greeting he wasn’t used to, though he probably got introduced to guests all the time judging by the breakfast-table conversation that morning. JJ turned to Susan then and said, “I just wanted to let you know, I’m going to New Haven tomorrow so I’ll be leaving before breakfast, probably late back.”
“New Haven? Yale?”
“Yeah.” He left a slight breathing space, again giving her the chance to mention Holden, then added, “The daughter of a family friend’s down there. I just found out she’s going away the day after tomorrow so ...” She nodded, almost as if she’d been expecting him to mention Holden too.