“Do you work?”
There wasn’t much one could do far out in the country, except what she really did. She didn’t want to lie to him, nor tell him the truth. “I write, or I did before my daughter was born. I took a number of years off after I had her and lost my husband, and now I’m writing again.”
“I wish I had that talent,” he said enviously. “Like Alexander Green. It takes an incredible mind to write thrillers like that. I can never guess the ending.”
“Me neither,” she said, grinning. “The murderer is never who I think it will be.” She was telling him the truth. There were always surprises for her as she wrote the books too.
“It’s an extraordinary gift. What kind of things do you write?” Jerry persisted.
“Mystery, crime.” She didn’t know what else to say, and she no longer wanted to hide what she wrote. And claiming she wrote women’s fiction or romance novels would make her feel ridiculous, because it was so far from the truth.
“You’ll have to let me read one.” She nodded and changed the subject.
As he left, he invited her to dinner the next day. “My chef makes the best southern fried chicken ever. I brought him over from Kentucky, now he’s more English than the English.” They both laughed at that.
“That happens here. And thank you for the invitation. The British used to give wonderful house parties, for centuries, to make country life more interesting. Now we sit in solitary splendor and listen to the birds sing. I think they had the right idea.” Alex smiled at him.
“I agree,” he said. “I keep meaning to have friends here, but I never have time. I’m always too busy. And sometimes when I get here, I enjoy the peace and quiet and solitude. It’s nice to have a break.”
She’d had a five-year break after Miles died, and her life was still very quiet, but she didn’t say it.
“What did your husband do?” He was curious about him too.
“He was a television producer, at one time for the BBC, then on his own. He produced TV series.” She mentioned a few of them. Jerry knew them all, and was impressed.
“See you tomorrow,” he said as he left. He was intrigued by her. There was something mysterious about her, and she didn’t give much away.
She dressed carefully for dinner the next day in black slacks and a soft pink cashmere sweater. She looked very pretty, and they had a good time when she went to his house. And she agreed that the fried chicken was fabulous.
They went riding together again, and she checked out the south pasture with him. He made her a very decent offer for it, on the high side, and she accepted. He was a fair person, a nice man, and good company. And it was such a pleasure having an adult to talk to, and not just Desi or the babysitter. She loved her daughter, but missed grown-up conversations and companionship.
He asked her about her books again, one afternoon when he stopped by for coffee.
“You know, I Googled you so I could order one of your books, but I couldn’t find you. Do you publish under another name?” She hesitated for a long moment, pondering the question, and then she made a decision and nodded. She was certain she could trust him. “What name is it? I’d really like to read one.”
“You already have,” she said with a mysterious smile.
“Have I? I don’t think so.” He looked puzzled.
“Alexander Green,” she said simply and he laughed.
“Very funny. No, really, tell me.” He was insistent. And then he saw the look in her eyes and grew serious. “Oh my God, you’re Alexander Green?”
“Not exactly. He’s a figment of my imagination, but I write under that pseudonym. I have since I was nineteen.” He was stunned into silence as the full impact of it hit him.
“You’re brilliant, Alex. Absolutely brilliant. You’re my favorite author, my idol. You’re a phenomenon.” All his admiration was in his eyes.
“I’ll give you an advance copy of my next one, if you like. But you can’t tell anyone what I just told you. I only told my husband, other than the publisher, my agent, and my editor.” Her heart ached for a moment when she mentioned Bert—it always did. She still missed him. “It’s been a dark secret all my life. And a heavy burden at times. But I felt I couldn’t write them under my own name. My age wasn’t in my favor at the time, and my father suggested I write under a male pseudonym if I ever wrote a book. I followed his advice, and then I became stuck with it. I had no idea how complicated it would turn out to be. I stopped writing for about five years when my husband died. I had some dark years, and then I got back to work.” She looked peaceful as she said it.
“I remember, I combed every bookstore for years, hoping you had a new book. And then you finally came out with a new one, and it’s your best. You have a frightening mind,” he teased her. “But also a fascinating one. I’m very flattered that you told me.”
“I just wanted to be honest with you. I haven’t told many people out in the world, just my husband. And the nuns I grew up with.” She had told him about them on one of their walks in the garden, and he was touched by the story.
“I won’t say a word, I promise. I’m truly honored. You deserve the recognition for what you’ve accomplished, though. It’s a shame you can’t have that, without jeopardizing your readership.” As she listened to him, she realized that he wasn’t jealous of her. He admired her. And as the thought crossed her mind, she heard Bert’s words in her head, for the first time in a long time. The Right Man at the Right Time. And he would find her. Miles had. And now she had learned that she was living next door to this extremely accomplished, intelligent man. She looked at him as though seeing him for the first time. He had just thought of something too.
“I’m doing something that might be fun in a couple of months, while I’m here. I’m going to Ascot. I’m invited to sit in the royal enclosure. I have a horse running that day. Would you like to join me?” It was an extraordinary invitation, and she wanted to go with him.
“I’d love to come.” Her face lit up as she said it. And she knew she’d have to go to London to get something to wear, and a fabulous hat to go with it, since everybody wore them there.
“It’s a lot of fuss, but it’s very entertaining.” He was smiling at her warmly. He knew he’d be proud to go with her, especially with all he knew about her now. She was not just any woman. She had an amazing gift.
—
Alex went to London several weeks later, for the first time in years, and went shopping. She found a simple sky-blue silk dress with a matching coat, and after some searching, the hat she needed.
The night before the race, they both stayed in London at Claridge’s and had dinner at Harry’s Bar, where he was a member. She had let Miles’s membership lapse years before, since she no longer lived in London, nor went there. It made her too sad without him. But she had a good time with Jerry.