Kitabı oku: «The Drowned Woman», sayfa 3
Chapter 3
My husband’s tension level increased with each step, so by the time we reached the sitting room where everyone had gathered, he was coiled like a panther, ready to spring. The energy flowed off the arm that I held and coursed through me, as we followed the sound of clinking glass and the low murmur of voices. We entered a large room with whitewashed walls, which gave the spacious room a gleaming brightness, accentuated by the large picture window. Through it, the sun set in purple and red streaks. Daphne held a champagne flute while Simon filled it. She gazed at Toby, who was busy with a vast collection of toy soldiers.
‘You look gorgeous,’ Daphne said, smiling as she walked over to me. ‘Pour Sarah champagne, Simon.’ She put her arm around me, as though she wanted to tell me a secret. Zeke went over to Simon and busied himself with his own drink.
‘I see Helen has done your hair.’
‘She also mended my clothes. She is very talented,’ I said.
‘Helen is a marvel,’ Simon said. He handed me a flute full of bubbly liquid, took a sterling silver cigarette case from his pocket, and made a fuss over lighting up. I wanted to step away – I hated cigarette smoke – but was afraid of being rude. He offered the case to me. I shook my head.
‘No, thank you,’ I said. ‘What an interesting lighter.’
‘Thanks. Gift from my father.’ He handed me the sterling lighter, overlaid with white enamel. On the front a tiny fish under the sea had been painted in remarkable detail. ‘It’s my lucky charm.’
‘Then I’d best give it back to you.’ I handed the lighter to him. He tucked it into his pocket, gave me a tight smile, and wandered to the window, where he stood smoking with his back to the room.
‘This room is lovely,’ I said.
Daphne spoke about her interest in design and her efforts to use light to enhance space. I listened, nodding when I should, or saying, ‘Really?’ and, ‘You don’t say,’ when a response was required. We carried on this way until an old woman hobbled into the room.
‘Granna, look at me! I’m big!’ Toby jumped up and flew toward the woman. ‘Mamma said we can eat lots of ice cream and cake.’
Granna wore a floor-length skirt twenty-five years out of style, topped with a silk blouse with an elaborate lace collar, held by a cameo at her throat. Toby skipped around her skirts for a moment before he ran back to Zeke, his eyes riveted on Zeke’s black cane with the silver lion’s head.
‘Do you have a sword in there? Some crime fighters have swords in their canes—’
‘Not so loud, Toby,’ Daphne said. She stood up and went to her son. Soon Daphne, Zeke, and Simon were listening to Toby’s tales of heroes with canes.
‘That’s my fault.’ The old woman stood next to me now. ‘I’m afraid I let him listen to anything on the radio that he wants, and, well, boys will be boys. Let’s sit, shall we?’
We took the two chairs tucked into the far corner, just out of earshot.
Granna said, ‘My son – Zeke’s father – is a bully and a fool, and I just want to warn you not to expect too much from him. We are glad to have you here, my dear. It is time that Zeke came home. I’m sure that you’ll want to stay on permanently after you’ve had a chance to get the lay of the land, so to speak.’
I was about to tell her that we wouldn’t be staying permanently when Mrs Griswold stood in the doorway.
‘Dinner, Mrs Griswold?’ Daphne asked.
* * *
We followed Mrs Griswold into a dining area positioned inside the alcove created by four windows which formed a good-sized bay window. An octagonal table had been expanded with leaves to accommodate all of us. The open windows provided a pleasant breeze. Outside, the crickets and nocturnal birds serenaded us. Zeke’s father already sat at the head of the table, a large glass of amber liquid at his elbow. He surveyed us as we filed in, his eyes mean and hard.
Zeke held my chair out for me.
‘This is Sarah, Father.’
‘I know who she is,’ the man growled at me. ‘I followed the trial. I know what you said about that man.’
‘I didn’t have much choice,’ I said.
Mr Caen sipped his drink and watched me over the rim of his glass with watery blue eyes. He had the same features as his sons, intense eyes, and a strong jaw that had once been as determined as Zeke’s. Mr Caen was handsome – all of the Caen men were – but the booze was taking its toll. It wouldn’t be too long before the skin would hang off the jowls and the eyes would become irreparably clouded.
‘You continue to speak to Sarah like that, and we’re leaving.’ Zeke spoke in that calm-before-the-storm quality that even his father noticed. A hush fell over the room. In the distance, an owl hooted.
‘I see someone’s knocked you down a peg or two. You’re a cripple now. Always knew you’d wind up on the wrong end of someone. Troublemaker, that’s what you are.’
‘Stop it, William,’ Granna snapped, as she sat down. ‘Zeke and Sarah made a lot of effort to get here. Let’s not chase them off today. Please, everyone, sit. Let’s enjoy our meal.’
Mrs Griswold entered the room as if on cue. She carried a pan with roast beef, potatoes, carrots, and peas, which she set on the sideboard. She made quick work of serving us. Soon the room fell silent as we ate.
‘The meat shortage hasn’t affected us too much,’ Daphne said. ‘We have a neighbor who raises beef cattle. I give their children riding lessons, and every couple of weeks we get a roast. I grow the vegetables, as you saw earlier.’
‘Regular paragon of virtue,’ Will Sr said. He turned his focus to Zeke. ‘What do you think of the mill? We’ve made a smooth switch to parachutes. Doing our part for the war.’ Will Sr put a piece of beef in his mouth and looked at Zeke.
‘Indeed you have. But you need to install an air-conditioner. One of those girls had to go to the hospital today, Father. She had a heat stroke. You need to take care of your people.’
‘Too expensive,’ Will Sr said.
‘Then at least let them work in the evening so as to avoid the heat of the day,’ Simon piped in. ‘I had to go tell Fred Jones his daughter collapsed on the job because we didn’t provide a humane working environment.’
‘Enough about the mill,’ Will Sr said. ‘Let’s have some peace while we eat.’
‘This is really good,’ Toby said. He ate ravenously. If he noticed the rancor among the adults, he didn’t let on. ‘When I get a pony, I will only feed him grass and alfalfa, maybe some rolled oats, right, Mamma?’
‘Yes, sweet pea,’ Daphne said.
‘Aunt Rachel will lead him while I ride. Just at first. That way Mamma can still teach her lessons and not worry about me.’
All movement in the room stopped. Toby didn’t notice. He kept right on talking, despite everyone’s attention. I knew that children often saw ghosts, so this revelation from Toby didn’t surprise me.
Toby stuffed a huge piece of potato in his mouth.
‘Aunt Rachel said—’
The color drained out of Daphne’s face. Drops of perspiration broke out on her upper lip.
‘Don’t talk with your mouth full,’ Simon said.
‘That’s enough,’ Will Sr barked.
Toby froze. His eyes widened with fear. He chewed his food and swallowed it with a gulp.
‘Get that child out of my sight,’ Will Sr said.
Daphne rose and went to Toby.
‘Sarah sees her, too. Rachel told me so,’ Toby said. His voice quivered. My heart broke for him.
‘Come on, love. Grandpa’s having one of his spells. I’ll bring you some food to your room.’
‘Do I still get my cake and ice cream?’
‘Of course, extra scoops,’ Daphne said.
‘That’s fine then. Grandpa will be fine tomorrow, right?’ Toby said, as he and Daphne walked hand in hand out of the room.
‘Did you really have to speak to my son that way?’ Simon didn’t bother to hide his disgust.
‘I wouldn’t have to if you would manage your family like a man,’ Will Sr said. He stood and filled his glass from the decanter on the sideboard. He sipped his drink and surveyed us. ‘You’re a sorry lot. I’ve had enough of this nonsense.’
He tottered out of the room, leaving us all in silence.
‘Is this a common occurrence?’ Zeke asked.
‘What do you care?’ Simon didn’t bother to hide the sarcasm from his voice. ‘You don’t have to deal with him day in and day out. He’s an irascible fool—’
‘He’s getting worse,’ Granna said. She faced Zeke and met his eyes with her shrewd gaze. ‘Something’s got to be done about him before he drives the mill and this family into the ground.’
‘Zeke will fix everything,’ Simon said, as he pushed away from the table. ‘The prodigal son has come home to save the day. I’m going to bed.’
I was no longer hungry. The bit of roast beef I had taken had turned to sawdust in my mouth. I forced it down with a generous gulp of red wine.
Granna finished her wine and refilled her glass, and then topped off mine.
‘Welcome home, Zeke. You’ve stepped right back into the hornet’s nest, haven’t you?’ Granna held her glass up before she took a big swig.
‘Don’t you think you should go easy, Granna?’ Zeke said.
‘I need to drink. It’s the only way I can cope.’ She winked at Zeke.
We all stood up and filed out of the dining room toward the staircase. ‘Would you mind going up alone? I really just want to take a walk,’ Zeke said.
‘Of course,’ I said.
He kissed the back of my neck, a subtle promise that never failed to send shivers up my spine, and left me with Granna.
‘Come, dear. I’ll walk up with you.’
We walked side by side up the stairs, Granna taking each step slowly.
‘Horrible arthritis in my hips,’ she was saying. ‘I walk three or four miles each day, but the stairs challenge me. Simon offered me one of the cottages on the property, but I can’t bear the thought of not being close to Toby.’
‘He is a bright child,’ I said.
‘He’s a hellion and I love him to the moon,’ Granna said with a twinkle in her eyes. When we reached my room, I found the door locked.
‘Oh, no. I don’t have a key,’ I said.
Granna rapped on the door next to my room. ‘Helen? It’s Sarah and Granna. Open the door, please.’
We heard footsteps. Helen opened the door. She held a book in one hand. We explained our predicament.
‘Just a minute.’ She stepped into her room and rejoined us carrying a ring of keys.
‘There’s dessert for you downstairs, dear,’ Granna said. ‘Sarah and I need to talk.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ she said.
When we were alone, Granna locked her gaze on me.
‘Is it true? You’ve seen Rachel?’
I froze, not sure what to say.
I let my breath out and wondered if I should just confide in Granna right now. Tell her everything.
‘You’re smart not to trust me yet,’ Granna said. ‘Best wait until you discover for yourself who your allies are. Do you mind if I come in and sit for a minute?’
She came into the room and took one of the two chairs that faced the sofa. I sat in the other one, awkward and unsure where I stood with this strong woman.
‘I’ve always kept an eye on Zeke and Wade. Those two were trouble since they were children, each of them wanting to save the world and trying to outdo each other in the process. Zeke wrote when he took the job for Jack Bennett. He told me that he had met the girl he was going to marry.’ She studied my face. ‘You love him. That makes me glad.’
‘About Rachel—’
‘I am well acquainted with Dr Geisler and his work. It’s not every day a prominent psychiatrist walks away from a lucrative practice to study the paranormal. I know what you can do, Sarah.’ Her expression was frank and without judgment. ‘Rachel came to you with some sort of a task.’ She held up her hand. ‘No. Please. Let me finish. I know in my heart that Rachel’s death wasn’t suicide. That poor girl was murdered. She came to you. Did she ask you to find her murderer?’
My breath caught. I nodded, unable to find my voice.
‘That’s a dangerous undertaking, my dear.’
Granna took a silver flask from the pocket of her skirt and unscrewed the bottle. She offered it to me.
‘No thanks,’ I said.
‘One of the emeralds has turned up. Now Simon is flush with money.’ She took a generous swallow from it and tucked it back in her skirt, out of sight.
‘How do you know this?’
‘I know everything that goes on in this town,’ Granna said. ‘Does Zeke know that you’ve seen Rachel’s ghost?’
I nodded.
‘What an unusual relationship you have. Zeke was always a fair-minded, forward-thinking child. I’m glad to know that he carried that quality into his marriage.’ She stood and straightened her skirt. ‘Be careful, Sarah. You are treading into dark waters.’
‘I know.’ My voice came out a whisper.
‘You’ve a friend in me. If I can help, just ask. Good night, my dear. Sleep well.’
Soon Helen came to help me hang my clothes. She offered to brush my hair, but I declined. Instead I crawled into bed, aware of the space next to me where Zeke should have been. The curtain rustled in the breeze as the crickets and frogs made their night noises.
I was sound asleep when I heard footsteps outside my door. I opened my eyes and reached for Zeke, but the space next to me was empty. I got up and padded to the door, flung it open, and stepped out into the corridor. The house had a stillness to it, as if it too had gone to sleep for the night. In the distance a door shut, but other than that, the house was silent. Where was Zeke?
The curtain hanging over the open window at the end of the corridor billowed in the evening breeze. As if on cue, everything went silent. Even the frogs and the crickets ceased their song. I stood in the corridor until one lone frog called and was soon accompanied by the others. An owl hooted, and the nocturnal sounds resumed. I searched for a light switch but couldn’t find one. With the moonlight showing me the way, I headed toward the staircase, certain that I would find Zeke in his father’s study, poring over papers, or sitting in a chair with a book in his lap.
Goose bumps broke out on my arms. After a second my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Someone was behind me, a presence. ‘Who’s there?’ I turned, but not quick enough. A strong hand connected between my shoulder blades. The hand pushed. I tumbled.
Chapter 4
Doors opened and shut. Voices whispered in the corridor above me, which flooded with light. Footsteps pounded down the stairs.
‘Sarah?’ Zeke squatted down next to me, wincing as he bent his injured leg.
‘Don’t move her,’ Daphne said.
I convulsed with shivers.
‘She’s in shock,’ Simon said. ‘Daphne, brandy and a blanket, please.’
Soon Daphne returned with the blanket. Simon tucked it in around me, his hands gentle and sure, while Zeke cradled my head in his lap. Daphne poured a dollop of brandy into a snifter and handed it to Zeke. He helped me sit up and held the snifter to my lips. I sipped. The brandy went down smooth and hot. Soon the shivering stopped.
Simon examined my ankle. He poked and prodded. ‘Does this hurt?’
‘No.’ My voice came out as a croak. ‘I want to try to stand up.’ Zeke and Simon helped me to my feet.
‘I should fetch a doctor,’ Daphne said.
‘No.’
Daphne recoiled at my tone. I hadn’t meant to snap.
‘I’ll be fine. I just want to get back to bed.’
‘If it were broken it would be swollen,’ Simon said.
‘Are you sure you don’t want us to fetch the doctor?’ Zeke asked.
‘No. Let’s wait until tomorrow. I think I’ll be fine.’
‘Do you have aspirin?’ Daphne asked.
‘I do,’ Zeke said. ‘Come on. Let’s get you back to bed.’ I didn’t bother trying to put the weight on my ankle, for that wasn’t my problem. My shock didn’t come from pain. It came from fear. It came from being pushed down the stairs.
* * *
‘Lock the door,’ I said to Zeke the minute we were in our room and I was situated on the couch.
He turned the key in the lock and left it there.
‘What’s the matter? You’re scared to death.’
‘Someone pushed me,’ I said.
‘What? Are you sure?’
‘Positive.’
‘Tell me what happened.’ Zeke sat down next to me on the love seat. He reached the afghan that hung over the back and placed it around my shoulders.
‘I was going to come and look for you. It was dark. I didn’t see anything or hear anything. I sensed someone behind me. I called out to them and was just turning around to see who it was, when they pushed me.’
‘There’s no way that Jack Bennett knows where you are, Sarah. And I am certain that Hendrik Shrader has no idea where we are. In any event, I’m going to secure the house.’
‘I’m coming with you.’ I put my feet on the floor and tried to stand. Pain exploded in my ankle. I sat back down. ‘Maybe not.’
‘I’m locking you in. Don’t open the door for anyone but me, okay? I’ll be right back.’ He left the room. The key turned in the lock, and I sat listening until his footsteps faded away. With great effort and considerable pain, I managed to hobble off to bed. After what seemed like an eternity, Zeke returned.
‘All the windows were shut tight and locked. Are you okay?’ He locked the door behind him and sat on the bed next to me.
‘I’ll be fine,’ I said.
‘I need to ask you some questions while this is fresh in your mind.’
‘Okay.’
‘Lay back and close your eyes.’
I did as he instructed.
‘Was the hand that pushed you that of a man or a woman?’
‘I have no idea. They came up behind me, so it’s not like I saw them.’
‘Okay, think of it this way. Was the hand large or small? Strong? Or soft?’ I remembered the feel of the hand between my shoulder blades.
‘Strong,’ I said, ‘but I can’t tell the size.’
‘Did you smell anything? Cologne, aftershave? Perfume?’
I shook my head. ‘No, no smells.’
After he brushed his teeth, Zeke turned off the light and slipped under the covers next to me. When I was cradled in his arms, he said, ‘I don’t want to think that one of my family members pushed you.’
‘What if I surprised the cat burglar?’
‘I thought of that, too. If the cat burglar was in the house, I doubt he would take pains to close the window or door behind him. You’re going to learn to shoot tomorrow,’ Zeke said.
I shivered, but not from the cold.
* * *
Zeke was gone when I awoke to the morning sun beaming into my room. It was already hot, but I welcomed the light of day. Nothing like sunlight to cast away the shadows.
‘We’ll have to pull the curtains soon, miss,’ Helen said. She fussed with my pillows as I tied my dressing gown around my waist. ‘Otherwise it will get too hot in here and you’ll roast.’
‘I don’t plan on staying in bed all day,’ I said. My ankle didn’t hurt as much this morning, and I had no intention of spending my day cooped up in bed. Helen had placed the newspaper on the table, the headlines a brutal reminder of the war: ‘RAF, YANKS SMASHING REICH!’ The photos beneath the caption depicted a bomb’s wreckage and ruin. I flipped through the pages until I came across an ad for Quentin Reynolds’ radio piece entitled, ‘What Nazis Did to Civilians in Russia.’ Underneath that a small headline announced, ‘17 OUT OF 100 FATHERS MAY BE DRAFTED BEFORE 44.’
‘Pretty soon there won’t be any men left,’ Helen said. She picked up Zeke’s shirt and tossed it in the laundry hamper. ‘Do you want me to draw you a bath?’
‘No,’ I said, setting the paper down. ‘I’m going to dress and go outside.’
‘Do you need me for anything?’
‘No, Helen. Thanks for taking such good care of me,’ I said.
‘I’ll go down and get you some coffee and cinnamon rolls. Mrs Griswold’s cinnamon rolls will make your ankle feel better,’ Helen said. ‘I know it sounds crazy, but they have curing abilities. You’ll see.’
‘Knock, knock.’ Daphne breezed into the room, decked out in breeches and tall leather boots. She carried a crystal vase filled with an assortment of flowers I recognized from our tour of the garden. ‘These are for you, Sarah. I picked them myself this morning.’
‘They’re gorgeous. Where in the world did you get that vase?’
‘I bought it from an estate sale in Chesterton. It’s Waterford, probably late nineteenth century.’ She set the vase down on the table next to the breakfast tray and arranged the flowers until they were perfectly symmetrical. ‘I scour estate sales and church jumbles. This sort of vase is out of fashion now, but I like it, so to heck with fashion.’
She had used child’s marbles in a myriad of colors to secure the stems in the bottom of the vase. I recognized a cat’s eye, a couple of clams, peppermint swirls and an abundance of ordinary glass marbles, plain yet brilliant, especially when the sunlight reflected their colors through the cut crystal vase.
‘I read about it in one of the women’s magazines I subscribe to. Don’t tell Toby, a good many of them came from his toy box. By the way, Zeke’s downstairs with Simon and an insurance adjuster, who’s come about the emeralds.’ She said, ‘We can listen through the dumbwaiter in your sitting room if you want. Come on.’
I got out of bed, tested my ankle, and discovered it didn’t hurt if I was careful. I followed Daphne to the little door that accessed the dumbwaiter. She put her finger over her lips. I nodded in understanding. She raised the door and we both leaned into the shaft, eavesdropping without shame.
‘—or anyone in your family have any dealings with any jewelers in Portland, Oregon?’
‘Why would we?’ Simon’s voice floated up to us.
‘Never mind the “why,”’ the man said. ‘I’m asking the questions today. As you know, our company paid a large claim to you when the emeralds were reported missing. Now that one of them has surfaced, surely you can see why my company wants to investigate.’
‘But surely you don’t think that someone in this family has sold the emeralds to a jeweler in Oregon?’ Simon said.
‘That’s exactly what he thinks,’ Zeke said. ‘We know that one of the emeralds has turned up in Portland, Oregon. The police have it. If and when it, or any of the other emeralds, are returned to our family, our lawyer will contact you. My family is not in the habit of committing fraud.’
‘If the emeralds are recovered, we will expect reimbursement for the claim we paid, Mr Caen.’
‘I think you should leave, Mr Spencer. Our lawyers will be in touch.’
‘But I—’
‘I assure you, you have our full cooperation. I just got into town last night and am still getting familiar with the situation. Thank you, Mr Spencer,’ Zeke said. We heard footsteps and a door shutting.
‘Zeke certainly knows how to take charge,’ Daphne said. ‘You love him very much, don’t you?’
‘Is it that obvious?’
She smiled for a second, before her expression became serious. ‘What’s wrong, Sarah? Something’s bothering you.’
I weighed my words before I spoke. ‘Someone pushed me down the stairs last night. I am certain of it, or at least I was certain of it last night. Now I think I’m being fanciful.’
‘I can assure you that no one in this family would want to harm you.’ She smiled at me.
‘Not even Will Sr?’
Daphne’s face became serious before she forced a smile. ‘I’m so sorry that you had to witness that scene last night Don’t let him bother you. He speaks that way to all of us, except Granna, of course. He’s upset because we are about to be invaded. Again.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Any minute now the reporters will be at the gate, never mind the police investigation. Will Sr is a fusspot, but he wouldn’t hurt a fly.’
Helen came in with a tray laden with a coffee pot and a plate heaped with cinnamon rolls. They smelled divine.
‘Join me?’ I asked Daphne, as Helen busied herself setting the tray down on the small table.
‘No, thanks. I’ve got to get to the barn. Lessons at nine-thirty.’ Daphne walked over to the table to survey the food and coffee. ‘Mrs Griswold is a world-class baker. Oh, Helen, make sure that the vase comes directly back to me.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ Helen said.
‘I’ll be off then,’ Daphne said. ‘Rest well, Sarah.’
Resting well didn’t work for me. I had no intention of staying in bed, so I moved over to my desk and transcribed a few of Dr Geisler’s handwritten pages. I had just finished proofing my work when the curtains rustled in the breeze, and the sweet smell of the mown grass wafted into the room. I pushed away from the typewriter, ready to be outdoors.
* * *
Downstairs, the curtains were shut, cloaking the foyer and the adjoining rooms in darkness. I didn’t hear a sound, nor did I see anyone. I knew Zeke and Simon – and probably Will Sr – were at the mill. I opened the front door and headed down the porch stairs.
I walked down the long driveway, staying in the shade. Seadrift raised his head and nickered at me when I walked past the pasture. In the distance, the roof of the stable peeked out among the trees. Soon I was by myself in a wooded area, the trail covered in dead leaves and lichen. I came to a weathered barn, bleached gray from years of sunlight. Bright green ivy climbed the front and wove through the rafters. A limb had fallen onto the roof and rotted there, long forgotten. I veered left, away from the old building, and toward the sun-dappled lane that led to Millport. I walked along the railroad track, my ankle getting better with every step. By the time I reached the town proper, my injury was all but forgotten.
Recalling Zeke’s narrative about the different shops and the people that owned them, I passed the bank, the café, and the general store. I headed for the stationer’s. Despite my brand new typewriter, I still liked to write notes longhand. While some women shopped for shoes and hats, my passion lay with fountain pens and thick linen paper.
A delicate bell jingled as I entered the store, a spacious room with high ceilings and white walls, redolent of floor wax and fresh paint. The cool air gave me goose bumps, and I marveled at how a shop like this managed to stay so cool. The influx of workers at the silk mill and the lumber mill was a boon for Millport. The store had a good share of shoppers, evidenced by the long queue at the cash registers, where two clerks, both wearing navy blue aprons with their names embroidered on their chests, rung up sales. Three women stood off to the side of the registers, huddled together, sharing confidences. They all wore hats and gloves, and I chastised myself for leaving the house without at least a pair of gloves. Every now and again, the tallest woman, who I imagined was the leader of the bunch, would raise her head and scan the store, like a buzzard searching for a fresh carcass.
I ignored her and headed for the row of stationery in the back of the shop. The women broke their huddle and stared at me as I walked by, their gazes burning the spot between my shoulder blades. I ignored them and focused on the surprising selection of fine stationery. I chose a thick creamy linen with matching envelopes.
‘I can get those for you,’ a young girl said. She wore the same apron as the other clerks. Hers had Betty emblazoned across the front. ‘How many?’
‘How about twelve sheets of stationery and eight envelopes.’ I could always walk back into town if I needed more. An excuse to get out of the house might turn out to be a blessing. ‘I’ll just browse for a while.’
‘That’s fine, miss. I’ll have these up at the register for you.’ The girl hurried off. I continued to look around the store, meandering full circle back up to the front, where I paused before a glass display of fountain pens. A black lacquer pen with gold overlay held place of pride in the middle of the display, resting atop a blood red leather case.
‘It’s a beauty, isn’t it?’ Betty spoke from the other side of the counter. ‘It’s a 1918 Conklin Crescent. That’s real gold on the overlay.’
‘May I?’ I asked.
‘Of course,’ Betty said. She opened the case, took out the pen, and handed it to me. My hand slipped as I reached to take it from her, and the pen fell to the floor with a clatter. The cap jumped off and skittered across the floor.
‘I’m so sorry,’ I said to Betty, as I retrieved the pen, put the cap back on and handed it to her. ‘I’m sure it’s not damaged, but if it is, I will pay for it.’
Betty’s face had gone pale. Tears welled up in her eyes. She stared behind me, terrified.
‘You really shouldn’t handle such expensive things,’ a voice said behind me. ‘Clearly that pen is out of your price range. I’d like to know why you even bothered to look at it.’ The tall woman with the piercing eyes hovered over me. She had a high forehead and eyebrows drawn into a perfect arch. They gave her a startled expression, counterbalanced by the mean, hard eyes that stared at me with blatant disapproval. A pince-nez hung on a string of seed pearls around her neck. She held it before her eyes and scrutinized me through it.
‘That’s really none of your business, ma’am,’ I said.
‘Everything in this town is my business, young lady. You’d do well to remember that. Now who are your people?’
One of her friends approached. She gave me a pitying look as she touched the obnoxious woman’s arm. ‘Come now. We’re going to be late, and I’m starved.’
The woman snorted, gave me a condescending look that said, ‘I’ll deal with you later,’ and allowed her friend to lead her out of the shop.
‘Miss, if you’ll step over to the register, I’ll just ring you up.’ Betty cast her glance at the back of the store where the manager – a mousy-looking woman in an unflattering brown suit – came toward us.
‘Is there a problem?’ the woman asked.
‘No, ma’am. I was just looking at this fountain pen, and I dropped it. I’ll be glad to pay for any damage.’
A wave of recognition washed over the woman’s face.
‘Are you Zeke’s wife?’
‘Yes, I am.’
‘Well, welcome to Millport, Mrs Caen,’ the woman said. ‘We’re so pleased that Zeke has come home. I’m sure you’ll be happy here.’ She took the cap off the pen and examined the nib. ‘There’s no harm been done to the pen. Don’t you worry about it.’ I didn’t have the heart to tell her we weren’t staying.
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