Although, as Abbey had guessed, the news about his daughters had diverted Jed's thoughts during the evening, the shock discovery of earlier in the day had never been far from his mind. Now he knew that he would never sleep until he had at least tried to unscramble some of the million and one thoughts going round in his head. Ignoring for the moment his burning curiosity about his mother's relationship with Eddy Bartlet, he tried to think back to anything – anything – that would tell him something about this stranger who had suddenly become part of himself.
He tried to visualise again the photograph that had stood on the kitchen dresser at the farm when his grandparents were still alive, but somehow it was blurred in his inner vision and he couldn't capture the details. All he could remember was a young man in naval uniform standing between his father and his uncle.
But he did remember clearly the time when he had asked his grandfather about that photograph. He had been about ten at the time. "Grandpa, who's that other man with my Dad and Uncle Steve?"
His grandfather had picked up the photograph, looked down at it and then looked back at him. "That's Edward, Jed – we always called him Eddy," he'd said. "He was my oldest son."
"Then he's my uncle, Grandpa? Like Uncle Steve?"
His grandfather had looked at him for a few moments. "No – he died, Jed. So he's not your uncle."
Jed sat bolt upright. There it was – there was the clue he had missed all those years ago. But he was only ten, how could he possibly have picked up on it then?
His grandfather had gone on to tell him about Eddy and the pride had shone from his eyes. "He was a Lieutenant Commander by the end of the war, Jed – okay, maybe promotion comes more quickly when there's a war on – but Eddy was on his way to the top. He was intelligent – and he was capable and energetic. He'd have been a Captain by now and then gone from there – Admiral, maybe even a Chief of Staff."
"What – what happened to him, Grandpa?" Jed had asked hesitantly.
"His submarine went down in the South China Sea – July 1946 it was – a tropical storm blew up fast, and something went wrong with the diving equipment. They couldn't dive – and so they took the full brunt of the storm, and the sub broke up. All hands lost. A tragedy – a real tragedy–"
And then his father had walked into the kitchen and looked at the photo. "What are you doing with that?" he asked.
"I was telling Jed how Eddy died," said his grandfather.
John Bartlet had taken the photo and put it back on the dresser. "No use dwelling on the past, Dad."
And that evening, when they were back at home again, Jed remembered how his father had hit him hard, right across his face.
"Why did you ask your grandfather about Eddy?" he'd demanded.
"I – I just asked who the other man in the photo was."
"And just what did he tell you?"
"Just – just about Eddy being in the Navy and his sub going down in a storm."
Then came the sharp slap – Jed could still hear and feel it now, feel how his head had been jerked to one side by the force of the slap – and could still feel how his eyes stung as he tried to fight back the tears that would only make his father even more angry with him.
"Don't you ever – ever – ask your grandfather about him again," his father had shouted. "You're so stupid, Jed, asking him about his son who was killed, upsetting him all over again. Now go to your room."
And I didn't argue back, Jed thought with a sigh, didn't repeat that I had only asked who the man was, that I hadn't known that he had died. There was no point, it would only have led to another stinging blow. Instead I just ran to my room and sat on the bed, trying not to cry.
"No!" The word came out of him almost as a groan and Jed quickly shook his head to rid himself of the almost unbearable image of that hurt and bewildered small boy who was himself. "No, I can't go there–"
He stood up and reached for the cigarette packet that he had left on the table, then quickly flipped on his fleece and opened the door of the cottage quietly.
His hands were shaking slightly as he lit his cigarette, but after inhaling deeply he started to walk across to the fence that surrounded the cottage. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see the agent standing there.
"You got the bum deal tonight then, Andy?"
"I like the night shift, sir. Specially here. I like looking at all the stars – you never see this many in DC."
"Too much light pollution," Jed nodded and let his gaze wander across the dark unclouded sky, with its millions of twinkling lights. "There's Orion – and Canis Major – Canis Minor – Taurus – Auriga – Gemini – Pleiades–"
"You sure know your constellations, sir."
"Yeah, the sky's pretty good in New Hampshire too. At least it used to be until your lot installed all those floodlights that come on the minute even a mouse moves."
"Sorry about that, sir."
Jed chuckled then turned and leaned on the fence, looking across the black water of the bay. Here and there were pinpricks of light from distant houses and occasionally car headlights came over a small rise in the road. An owl hooted in the nearby woods, and a dog barked suddenly. But then everything was quiet again, the only sound the lapping of the waves on the shore below, and Jed slowly relaxed, lulled by the peacefulness of it all. 'I'm tired,' he thought, 'I can't think about it any more tonight.' Unconsciously he drew in a deep breath and then let it out in a long sigh.
"Everything okay, sir?" asked the agent.
Jed had almost forgotten he was there. He turned to Andy and nodded. "Yeah. Guess I'd better go back in now." Stamping out his cigarette, he started to walk back to the cottage door.
"Goodnight, sir."
"Night, Andy."
He locked the door, switched off the light and went through to the bedroom. By the soft light of the small bedside lamp, he could see that Abbey had fallen asleep so he tiptoed through to the bathroom, careful not to disturb her. He winced slightly as he turned the shower on, thinking that it sounded as loud as Niagara Falls. But when he went back into the bedroom, she was still asleep. For a few moments, he stood looking down at her. "I love you so much, Abbey, I feel like my head's gonna fly off sometimes," he thought, echoing the words she had said to him earlier.
As he climbed into the bed beside her and switched off the lamp, she stirred slightly. "Mmm, you smell nice."
"Shower-gel," Jed whispered.
"You okay?" she murmured.
He buried his face against her soft hair and slipped his arm round her, smiling as she automatically eased herself against him.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Right now, I'm just fine…"
TBC