Читать книгу Koko - Peter Straub - Страница 33

‘Well, here it is,’ Michael said. ‘There’s a medical conference in Singapore next January, and the organizers are offering reduced fares on the flight over.’

He looked up from his copy of American Physician. Judy’s only response was to tighten her lips and stare at the ‘Today’ show. She was eating her breakfast standing up at the central butcher-block counter while Michael sat alone at the long kitchen table, also of butcher block. Three years before, Judy had declared that their kitchen was obsolete, insulting, useless, and demanded a renovation. Now she ate standing up every morning, separated from him by eight feet of overpriced wood.

‘What’s the topic of the conference?’ She continued to look at the television.

‘“The Pediatrics of Trauma.” Subtitled “The Trauma of Pediatrics.”’

Judy gave him a half-amused, half-derisive glance before taking a crisp bite out of a piece of toast.

‘Everything should work out. If we have any luck, we ought to be able to find Underhill and settle things in a week or two. And an extra week is built into the tickets.’

When Judy kept staring silently at the television set, Michael asked, ‘Did you hear Conor’s message on my machine yesterday?’

‘Why should I start listening to your messages?’

‘Harry Beevers sent Conor a check for two thousand to cover his expenses.’

No response.

‘Conor couldn’t believe it.’

‘Do you think they were right to give Tom Brokaw’s job to Bryant Gumble? I always thought he seemed a little lightweight.’

‘I always liked him.’

‘Well, there you are.’ Judy turned away to place her nearly spotless plate and empty coffee cup into the dishwasher.

‘Is that all you have to say?’

Judy whirled around. She was visibly controlling herself. ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Am I allowed to say more? I miss Tom Brokaw in the mornings. How’s that? In fact, sometimes Old Tom kind of turned me on.’ Judy had ended the physical side of their marriage four years before, in 1978, when their son Robert – Robbie – had died of cancer. ‘The show doesn’t seem as interesting anymore, like a lot of things. But I guess these things happen, don’t they? Strange things happen to forty-one-year-old husbands.’ She looked at her watch, then gave Michael a flat, sizzling glance. ‘I have about twenty minutes to get to school. You know how to pick your moments.’

‘You still haven’t said anything about the trip.’

She sighed. ‘Where do you suppose Harry got the money he sent to Conor? Pat Caldwell called up last week and said Harry gave her some fairy tale about a government mission.’

‘Oh.’ Michael said nothing for a moment. ‘Beevers likes to think of himself as James Bond. But it doesn’t really matter where he got the money.’

‘I wish I knew why it is so important for you to run away to Singapore with a couple of lunatics, in search of another lunatic.’ Judy tugged furiously at the hem of her short brocade jacket and for a second reminded Michael of Pat Caldwell. She wore no makeup, and there were ashy streaks of grey in her short blonde hair.

Then she gave him her first really honest glance of the morning. ‘What about your favorite patient?’

‘We’ll see. I’ll tell her about it this afternoon.’

‘And your partners will cover everybody else, I suppose.’

‘All too gleefully.’

‘And in the meantime, you’re happy about trotting off to Asia.’

‘Not for long.’

Judy looked down and smiled with such bitterness that Michael’s insides twisted.

‘I want to see if Tim Underhill needs help. He’s unfinished business.’

‘Here’s what I understand. In war, you kill people. Children included. That’s what war is about. And when it’s over, it’s over.’

‘I don’t think anything is ever really over in that sense,’ Michael said.