She sat up, wide-eyed. It was dark in the room. She turned on the beside lamp. Jean-Pierre was hastily gathering his strewn clothes. No, he didn't understand. They were safe. Touching her hand to her head for an instant, she relaxed a little, felt a little laugh begin in her chest at the comedy of his panic. He must have heard Marie, because Matthew wouldn't be home from his New York trip until tomorrow afternoon.
But then she heard his voice, "Greta?," faintly, coming from downstairs.
Judging by the echo she guessed that he was in the kitchen - and only one minute away from making his way through the foyer, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. "My God!" she gasped, struggling with her robe. "Hurry! Leave!"
Jean-Pierre had managed to pull on his pants, shirt, jacket. Snatching up his shoes and socks and wristwatch, he stepped outside, onto the terrace. She gathered her robe and tied it closed as she rushed from the room.
"Matthew?" she called from the top of the stairs. "I'm up here," she said, composing herself as she descended quickly.
"There you are," Matthew said, his garment bag and briefcase in tow. He set down the briefcase at the bottom of the stairs and flipped through a few pieces of mail. Yes, she thought thankfully, take your time and read your mail, all of it. "I came back tonight instead. My meeting was shorter than I'd expected." He glanced at her.
As if sensing her scrutiny, he stopped going through the mail. He dropped it next to his briefcase and began climbing the steps. "Why is it so dark in the house? Are you in bed already?"
She stopped and raised her wrist to her head, fumbling with her words. "I'm not feeling very well," she said. She pulled a tattered tissue from her pocket, dabbed it beneath her dry nose, coughed. "Darling," she said, blocking his way, "could you please get me a glass of water?"
He stopped, eyed her with subdued curiosity. Then he let out an impatient sign and turned and started back down the steps. Just another minute, she thought, and Jean-Pierre would be safely gone.
But then Matthew stopped, turned around, and climbed toward her again. "There are cups in the bathroom," he recalled aloud as he passed her. She clutched the hem of her robe and lifted it and chased after him in hopes of getting to the bedroom before he did.