Ask about your neighbours, then buy the house

Jewish Proverb

IV

How much value can one attribute to something when the condition sine qua non is constructed, in a sense even fake? As a paradox, she felt as if she came home when she first set foot in their new house, fully aware of the absurdity of it. A fake loving marriage that at least on her part wasn't that fake, harbouring the feelings she had for him; their matrimonial status a constructed phenomenon that she was unable to valid in any way. 'Their' house untrue as well. Yet, like pieces of a jigsaw, everything matched and piece by piece a picture was made that painted precisely what she wanted to have. At some day.

Sue fell in love with the house the moment her eyes caught the Ionian columns that carried the awning mimicking an ancient Greek architrave, their grey-white sleek marble appearance contrasting the soft carnelian-red brickwork and white wooden windows. From the ceiling of the awning hung a single glass and cast iron chandelier that lighted the main entrance. Two meticulously manicured firs guarded the steps that led to the door, their smooth-trimmed foliage stood out against the classic grooved cannelures that marked the Greek-Ionian style columns as well as the curled volute that supported the roof.

Aspen, oaks and maples decorated the street. Their ancient crowns sheltering, giving the surroundings a grand atmosphere as the first colours of autumn boldly surfaced amidst the green shades of the trees. As they drove through the street that would become their home for the next time Sue couldn't do anything else but admire the magnificent houses that aligned the way until she gasped when their house came into view. Jack turned slightly, a smile on his face, wanting to see admiration and a whole palette of emotions on her attractive features.

"You like it?"

"Like it? I love it…" she said, a broad smile on her face, "if only one day I could actually be living in a house like this."

"Well, you cannot foresee the future, but all I know is that we now live in one. I figured that we're not that bad equipped after all."

"This must cost a fortune."

"Uncle Sam is a wealthy man."

"Apparently." They halted on the white pebbled sweep. "I still can't believe it."

"Believe what?"

"We're here and pretending this is just ours. Like we're fortunate."

"We are," he said, "fortunate." I am most fortunate, to have you near me. Once out of the car she slowly climbed the limestone steps that led to the entrance. Near the door she halted and turned, seeing him close behind her. Her halting had him surprised and he ran into her. His body suddenly pressing against hers, she reacted surprised and instinctively she backed away only to find her back already rested against the wood of the front door effectively trapping her.

Like bushfire swept up by a strong sea breeze, his touch revved her whole system. Her breath caught halfway, she felt the electricity of his body pressing against hers streaming through her veins. His breath stroked the side of her of cheek and she cautiously let her eyes climb upward to meet his brown eyes that seemed to be smouldering with the same intensity as she felt. Out of instinct his hand reached up and stroked back a strand of her hair that had fallen over her face, his lips maddeningly close to her face. She slightly parted her lips, as she was about to close her eyes revelling in his touch when he suddenly broke contact.

She felt the deep disappointed moan she uttered before she could hold it back. Why…

"I, eh…" he began and he fuddled a bit with his keys as he looked up again. "I didn't see you stopping." He smiled apologetically.

"The door was closed, I could hardly have ran through it now could I?" It came out more harsh than she actually would've wanted, but her frustration surfaced over yet another bodged close encounter and seeped through before she was able to bite her tongue. "I'm sorry…"

She stepped over the threshold into the marble-tiled hall and part of her anger disappeared as she took in the house's interior. A majestically curved stairway, cardinal-red tapestry on the steps, led to the upper levels. The cognac brown wooden rails elegantly followed the lines of a Venetian glass chandelier that hung centred in the hall. From the hall she could see the white soft carpet that lay on the parquet floor of the main living room extending beyond view.

He followed her inside, inwardly cursing his cold feet when she was so dazzlingly nearby and he almost gave in to what he wanted most. His hand pushing a bang of her hair behind her ear and he had been a millisecond away from kissing her. It might as well have been a century, he thought, for he didn't pursue. I'm a coward, it's official.

Just closing the front door behind him Sue came back into the hall, a broad smile of disbelief on her face. "Have you seen the sheer size of that dining room? It's bigger than my whole place combined!" She let her fingers trail over the smooth-polished reddish-brown cherry-wood Japanese cupboard that decorated the passage between kitchen and living room. "Oh my…" she stopped to take a closer look at a large plate of white porcelain with blue imprints and figures that lay on the large dining table. Carefully she picked it up and turned it to look on the bottom. Very carefully she placed it back on the cognac-coloured wood. "This is genuine Delfts, Jack…"

"Expensive I take it."

"More than that, wreck it and you'll be working a few years for nothing."

"We better not wreck it then."

"Preferably not."

She marvelled at the impeccable white carpet that lay before the Chesterfield leather sofas. A glass-plated low table was placed in the centre that through its glass let the magnificent softness of the fabric non-obscured. "It's so pristine I barely dare to touch it, let alone walk over it," she said. She turned a little to face him. "That means shoes off for you as well, Hudson."

"DO WHAT WILL QQ" he said as she squatted near the corner of the carpet, his brows furred and a quizzed expression on his lips. She lifted the corner of the carpet. "LOOK (under), BRAND KNOW WANT," she said. Her eyes grew a little and she put it down. "fs. AUBUSSON."

"fs. AUBUSSON QQ," he repeated, unsure. She nodded. "EXPENSIVE." She got up again, a smile on her lips, "that means your socks have to be clean as well."

"I didn't know you knew antiques."

"I did some homework last night," Sue responded. "Whoever decorated this house has got style and taste. My style and taste…"

"It's Bureau work."

"Then I need to have a word or two with the property master of whatever department handles this kind of things. Cut a deal, I know a good place for one or two items."

"They're all listed, I don't think there's much to bargain for."

"Well, maybe he's willing to after a date, or two."

"Hey, you're a married woman, remember?"

"A fake marriage…" She paused to gauge his reaction. In the second before he shied his eyes down she could see something in them that she could only label as hurt. "Unfortunately," she thought she saw his lips form in the reflection of the glass doors of the wine cabinet as he looked away. "What did you say?" she asked, her voice a lot more gentle than accompanied the sharp remark earlier.

"Never mind," he said. "I'll get your gear out of the car."

Contemplating over what she just witnessed she stood for a moment in the living room, seeing through the windows how he walked down the path over the lawn to their car. She bit her lower lip and absently ruffled Levi's fur as he sat down next to her.

Outside he clenched his fists for a moment before he proceeded to open the boot of the car and retrieve Sue's belongings. Her remark hurt, and she knew it, he was sure of it. Damned, he thought. He couldn't really believe that Sue, whom he held to be soft-natured, was capable of such a deliberately hurtful remark. But then again, she just had. It doesn't get more sobering than that. He took out a suitcase and placed it on the ground near the rear bumper. He was about to pick out another when he heard a movement behind him.

"Well, hello there," a medium-height man with blonde hair whom he immediately recognised as Oscar Beckett said as he held out his hand. Jack smiled and shook his hand. "Jack Hudson."

"Oscar Beckett," he said, and his British pronunciation was unmistakable. "I saw you arriving and I could not pass the opportunity to say hello and welcome you into our neighbourhood."

"It's appreciated Mr. Beckett."

"Oh, away with the formality, just Oscar will do." Behind black-lined spectacles a pair of friendly light grey eyes mustered him with interest. "That is, if you want to be on familiar names as well."

Jack smiled. "Sure, will do, Oscar."

"Lovely," he said. "Need a hand with anything?"

"It's just these few suitcases…" He gestured at the house. "We had the rest already moved in earlier. Just nuts and bolts really."

"Yes, we saw the lorries come and go. You really bought a splendid house."

"We fell in love with it the moment we saw it," Jack said as he closed the boot-lid. Oscar retrieved a small cigar from the breast pocket of his blue Spencer and offered Jack. "No thanks, I don't smoke."

"Ah, a wise man," he said as he took a matchbook and lit one, he puffed a few small clouds. "My one vice, I'm afraid. But Tamsin has me expelled for it nonetheless." He shook out the burning match and put it back in the matchbook. "Tamsin, as you most rightfully must assume, is my darling spouse. I love her more than life, but I have to smoke outside despite my best pleas for mercy."

"Lucky for me I don't smoke, or I'd face the same."

"Nil nequit amor, my friend. Love overcomes all." Oscar contentedly puffed away a few clouds of smoke, hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers. "Or so they say anyway."

Jack laughed, feeling strangely at ease with the man he was sat about to be spying upon. Oscar Beckett was anything but a standard alleged felon he had encountered in earlier cases. In his fifties, black trousers, a white blouse with a blue Spencer on top, he resembled more of a retired banker than an art thief or fencer. "Why don't you come in? You haven't met my wife, Sue yet."

"Splendid, I'll just finish this delightful sin first." He puffed away some more and took the small remnant from his lips and deposited it in a nearby litter bin. Oscar insisted on helping out so Jack provided him with a bag as they climbed the steps to the house.

"Just put the bag down there in the corner, Sue knows where it should go," Jack said as he closed the door behind Oscar. As inconspicuous as he could he observed the man's motions and interest to see if the lavish interior sparked something. His eyes grew lively with joy and almost excited Oscar looked round. He turned round to Jack. "God bless that wife of yours for her immaculate taste. I do assume it's her hand in this I'm seeing."

"Yeah, her taste and part of my wallet." Jack winked amicably.

"Small offers, great benefits I always say." Just then Sue emerged from the living room holding a bottle of Heidsieck Bluetop Monopole and a card, a smile on her face. She stopped in her tracks as she saw Oscar, but then her smile broadened. "Hello.."

"Oscar, I'd like you to meet Sue, my wife," Jack said and Oscar shook her hand with a small bow. "Sue, this is Oscar Beckett, from next door."

"What a surprise Mr. Beckett, you came to welcome us?"

"As I already pleaded to your husband, Oscar is fine." He smiled, "I couldn't contain my curiosity when I saw your saloon standing on the sweep and then I met Jack who invited me in."

"Welcome," Sue said, she had had more trouble in following what he said than she usually had with others. His lips moved different than most speakers, but his use of words suggested to her he might be British. "Are you perhaps British, Oscar?"

"Hard to get around," he said.

"I figured that since you pronounce words differently than I'm used to."

"Well, Oscar Wilde agreed we had many things in common with Americans, except of course the language." He smiled, "and it didn't fell on deaf ears."

Sue smiled, "well, actually it did." His confused look invited her to inform him more. "ME DEAF," she said, "I'm Deaf."

"What?" His puzzled eyes followed her movements. He looked up from her hands to see her smiling friendly. "I'm Deaf," Sue said, "I can't hear." She signed simultaneously.

Then it dawned him and he was visibly upset. "I'm sorry, I…had no idea." He squinted his eyes. "But you speak and you know what I said…"

Sue nodded. "I read lips, that way I can put together, more or less, what is said. But Jack and I use American Sign Language often rather than speech. It's less straining for me."

"Most remarkable."

"Thank you."

"No really, I'm impressed, I never would have guessed." He nodded, more at ease and in his eyes she read genuine awe. "Then you must meet Tamsin, my wife, a late aunt of her was deaf and she knows some sign language as well. You should get along."

Sue smiled. "That, would be British Sign Language I guess?"

"She was from Strathclyde, so yes I assume."

"BSL is completely different from ASL I'm afraid. There's no universal Sign Language. It would be like speaking Chinese to a Russian."

"Or British to an American," he laughed.

"Touché," Sue said and smiled. "Well, now you're here, would you like to join us?" She took the bottle of Champagne and held it up a little. "I was about to say to Jack that our colleagues left us this bottle as a welcome to our new house."

"Very kind, Sue, but that's more prone to private celebration. Let me instead invite you to have an evening supper tomorrow with Tamsin and I, in our house."

"That's very kind."

"Say, eight o'clock?"

Jack exchanged a few glances with Sue, "Eight sounds good, we'll be there. Thank Tamsin in advance for us will you?"

"Will do," Oscar said as he walked back to the front door, just before he reached it he turned to look at Sue. "I nearly forgot to compliment your style and taste in decoration."

"THANK YOU," she said. "That's 'thank you' isn't it?" Oscar said, "I've seen it somewhere."

"Yes it is." Sue seemed genuinely touched he knew and smiled warmly. "Thanks for dropping by."

After Oscar left she held up the bottle once again, her head slightly cocked an amused smile on her lips. "Well, what'ya say we open this one to celebrate."

Inwardly he still had to digest her comments earlier and celebration over something like this seemed a bit wry, but her lively expression let that dark acid cloud that encircled his heart disappear like the sun would. The light of my life, he mused, but out of reach. "Why not, it is after all a new home to both of us." He followed her towards to living room. "What was on that card you had earlier?" She gave it to him, "you might want to read it yourself as well." She opened the cupboard to retrieve two flûtes, and with a modest 'pop' the cork was undone and she poured the light-golden liquid in the glasses. Countless bubbles clung to the glass and spiralled to the surface like tiny pearls. She handed him his glass.

"To Jack and Sue, a small gift to truly welcome you in your new house, to let it become your new home and that a whole new life may blossom soon. Love, the team," he read aloud. He especially was affected by the last line. Who knows. He smiled warmly at the gracious blonde that stood opposite him as she raised her glass. "To a new successful end," she said.

"To us," he reciprocated. She shied her eyes down for a fraction of a second as her smile grew in intensity. "To us," she said and with a high-pitched clear A-sharp sound glass met glass as they toasted and let the Champagne invade their senses with a dry, semi-sour palette of apples, a hint of vanillin and the sweetness of white grapes.

She put down her glass and took the card he had put down on the table to read the message again. The hand-writing was unmistakably Lucy's and the last line was put down as her own input and wish that something finally would change for the better for the both of them. She already regretted lashing out at him, if she could take back what she said she would but she knew she couldn't. Something in his demeanour told her she had hit either home, or at least very close to it, when he had uttered something she couldn't explain other than rooted in regret on her comment about their fake partnership. That, plus his explicit toast made that something deep in her was stirred that closely resembled the warm feeling she got when he had cautiously and tenderly placed the rings on her finger. The rings he had kept ever since their first mission. Could I be wrong about him? she thought. And for the first time in a while the impulse to dismiss it was absent.

"That was such a sweet thing to say," she said and smiled warmly. His eyes fixed back on her and in those enchanting deep dark pools she could see appreciation. "I can be sweet."

"I know," she said, "I've been on the receiving side quite a few times." She let her eyes travel over the short black hair, those magnificent brows and lashes that could swoon every woman, over his strong cheek and jaw to those sweet-tasting lips of him she still vividly remembered after their kiss at Callahan and Merced. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

"It's okay," he said. She shook her head, her hand reached out for his and she gently squeezed it as she felt the electrical touch simmering through her veins. "No, it's not. I didn't mean to hurt you." She smiled tenderly, absent-mindedly touching the ring on her finger after she let her thumb softly caress his palm. "I'm a lucky woman to be married to you."

"I'm a lucky man to have you," he said. "I'll put your bags upstairs for you to unpack." He turned slightly when he took the first steps to see she stood halfway the threshold holding her glass against her chest, looking at him, a mysterious and enchanting absent expression on her face. He made it up the stairs with ease, suddenly feeling elation seeping into his system he had just been witness of the opening to something more. Could I have misjudged her? The possibility didn't seem so far-fetched than it had done a while ago as he still felt the warm touch of her hand on his. When her thumb tenderly brushed his skin he almost couldn't believe what he was feeling, but now, still feeling it, he realised that there was more to her than he originally thought could be. May a whole new life blossom…He smiled. Maybe it could.