‘Do you care, Livi?’ prods Magda.
‘Of course I care, but what can I do?’
‘You have to tell him how you feel.’ Magda is all business now, rummaging through a desk drawer, extracting a sheet of paper and a pen, thrusting them into Livi’s hands. ‘Invite him to Hanukkah – if he comes then it’s not over between you, you have more to say to one another. If he doesn’t, well, that’s your answer.’
Livi has no desire to do this, but she realises she does need to know, one way or another, where they stand.
Under Magda’s watchful gaze, Livi scribbles out a brief note.
‘Take it now, while the ink is wet,’ Magda urges, fetching Livi’s coat.
All the way to Ziggy’s house, Livi debates whether to just throw the note away and go home, but then she’s on the doorstep, ringing the bell to his apartment. When there’s no answer, she takes the note from her pocket, meaning to tear it into tiny pieces. But how would she face Magda? She has never lied to her sister, and Livi is not a coward. She slips the note under the door and hopes that someone will take it up to Ziggy’s apartment.
‘He wasn’t there,’ she tells Magda when she returns home. ‘So, either he’ll turn up or he won’t. We’ll find out in three days, in any case.’
‘He’ll come,’ says Magda. ‘Whatever is going on between the two of you isn’t over yet. Remember, I’m your big sister and I’m always right.’
*
Livi has filled the Weizmann house with flowers. The beautiful blossoms overflow from tall vases, abundant and irresistible. From the very first time she placed a glass vase of roses in the Weizmann’s bedroom, she was given the role of flower arranger for the whole household. Even the president has been caught admiring the large displays in the foyer or on the dining table before a formal dinner.
‘Take a break,’ the cook advises, as Livi washes and dries empty vases in the kitchen.
‘Thanks. The roses are so wonderful right now, I might just go and sit in the garden for a bit.’
Finding a bench in the shade of the Jerusalem pine, Livi tilts her face to the sun and inhales the scent of flowers. She closes her eyes and thinks about Ziggy. Will he come to dinner later, and if so, what will she say to him? What will he say to her?
‘Ah, I see someone else enjoys sitting under my magnificent tree.’
Livi’s eyes snap open and she jumps to her feet. ‘Mr Weizmann,’ she says, blushing. ‘I didn’t see you coming.’
‘Sit down, Livi. I’m just an old man, out for a walk.’ He gives her a wide smile and Livi settles back down on her seat. ‘Is everything all right, my dear? You seem preoccupied.’ He points to her bench. ‘Would you mind if I sat with you a while?’
‘Of course not. Please.’
‘Then we can sit and talk or sit and say nothing, and just enjoy the garden. I know you love it as much as I do, and I’ve watched you gather the flowers for the house. You never take too much – that’s what I like.’
‘It’s so peaceful here,’ says Livi. ‘And you have both worked so hard to make it beautiful.’
‘We have,’ the president agrees. ‘Can I tell you something?’ He doesn’t wait for Livi to reply. ‘I would much prefer to be out here than in any other room in the house. Oh, don’t get me wrong, I love the house, but this’ – he waves a hand across the gardens – ‘this is where I feel at peace, and it’s where I can hide from prying eyes.’ The president laughs and Livi imagines him sneaking out of the house and making his way across the lawn to disappear amongst the bushes.
‘That’s not entirely true, is it?’ Livi says, with a grin.
‘What are you saying, young Livi?’
‘I’ve seen you and Prime Minister Ben-Gurion sitting out here many times, and for long periods. You always let him find you.’
President Weizmann laughs out loud. ‘You are so right, Livi. Can I tell you another thing? It is Prime Minister Ben-Gurion who asks to come out here, so there is another who also finds peace in my garden.’
‘I should get back to work now. There was something on my mind, you were right, but after talking to you .?.?. I don’t know, but I feel so much better.’
‘Boyfriend problems?’ probes the president.
Livi laughs. ‘Yes! How did you guess?’
‘Like I said, I’m an old man, and there’s not much I don’t know. But you must tell this young man of yours he is lucky to even know your name, let alone have you in his life.’