“I think our conversation is over, Jim. You better leave.”
Instead of passing him to reach the path, I started through the thick bushes. The robust plants snagged my dress, and scratched my bare arms and calves. I didn’t care. My only thought was to get away from my former friend turned stranger.
With a strong pull, Jim turned me around and held my head in place as he forcefully kissed me. I struggled to liberate myself but he was too strong. His arm around my body was a chain, unbreakable.
He is possessive and easily offended—I wouldn’t trust him. I should have been more mindful of Alex’s warning about Jim.
I was stricken with terror realizing that I was at Jim’s mercy. I couldn’t free myself. Yes, he was possessive and for some reason he had grown to believe that I belonged to him. I felt my knees giving out as I continued to wrestle him.
I bit him. I bit him so hard that blood dripped from his lip. He pushed me away in shock and I managed to run through the bushes until I reached the path on the other side, leaving small pieces of my dress stuck among the thorns and branches that had slowed down my escape. Once on the path, I bolted to the closest door of the monastery without ever looking back.
After changing out of my damaged dress, I was exhausted, physically, and emotionally. My day had been terrible and the past week a rollercoaster of emotions and fears.
Why hadn’t Alex come? Maybe, it was better that way, I wouldn’t have liked another confrontation between him and Jim. Jim, what had gotten into him? Today had been ugly. Could I ever look at him in the face again? I had never seen him so agitated and…wicked. He deserved what I did to him, but I felt sad for him.
I paced around my room. Why hadn’t Alex even called? Even if he was unwell, he always called.
Refusing to let pessimism drag me down, I pushed away the unpleasant thoughts and went into the common room to call Oak’s Place.
“Good evening,” Mrs. White answered.
“Good evening, this is Florence. Can I speak to Mr. Sterling?”
“Mr. Sterling is having a difficult day and has retired to his room.” Mrs. White was trying too hard to sound casual.
“How sick is he?” It must be very serious for him to not even call me.
“There is nothing to be alarmed about, Miss Contini. He’ll most likely be better in the morning.”
“Please tell him I called.” That was wishful thinking.
“Good night, Miss Contini.” The line went dead, leaving me with a sick feeling in my stomach.
I checked my watch, debating between logic and feelings; logic dictated that I should wait until morning. Feelings compelled me to drive to Oak’s Place right away.
Logic won, but feelings kept me from sleep. I worried that when morning came, it would be too late.
12
~ Lies and Bitterness ~
Zaira and Mr. Snider conversed emphatically near the front porch of Oak’s Place. The Buick came to an abrupt stop, a thick trail of dust following behind. When I stepped out of the car, I realized how fast I had gotten here. My mind, still awash with anxiety over Alex’s relapse, was unable to focus on safety; my actions guided by emotions instead of prudence. The drive had been a blur. Memories of intersections, stop signs, High Banks Road, even the speedometer—there were none, just the urge to get to Alex.
“I’m so relieved you are here,” Zaira said in a hushed tone.
“Morning,” said Mr. Snider in his usual low voice, touching the brim of his straw hat.
“Good morning. How is Mr. Sterling?”
“I’m not sure.” I had never seen Zaira so unnerved. “Mr. Sterling is in his room. Mrs. White spent the night watching over him.”
“Is she still with him?” The idea bothered me.
“Of course, she is,” said Mr. Snider. “She wouldn’t waste an opportunity like this to be around him.” He bent down to pick up a shovel and his working gloves from the ground.
Zaira pursed her lips at his comment. “She hasn’t left his room at all, except to get him a cup of tea last night and then again this morning.”
“It must be extremely serious then.” I glanced back at the house. My heart yearned to run to him, but sanity was finally kicking in. I needed to be prepared, to know more.
“He hasn’t been this sick since we left England. I mean, as to need assistance during the night.” Her tone was a clear insinuation of a calamity knocking at our door.
“I’m not one to meddle in other’s affairs.” Mr. Snider held my gaze with a sudden intensity, and he spoke with such a power that his words reached my heart. “Miss Contini, there are things amiss at Oak’s Place. There are strange things in motion. You would do well to take control of the situation. You are Mr. Sterling’s fiancée. Save him before it’s too late.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure. Just be very careful.” Before I could question him any further, Mr. Snider headed towards the trees, tools in hand.
“He gives me the chills,” Zaira confessed. “But he is wise and very observant.”
“And he doesn’t trust Mrs. White. Zaira, tell me, was Alex sick all day yesterday?”
“Yes, he came into the kitchen early in the morning, and all of a sudden, he cried in pain, bending over to hold his stomach. It really scared me. Mrs. White and Mr. Vines took him to his room, and he’s been there since.” Zaira shook her head in distress.
“I should have come yesterday.” I was filled with remorse that I had listened to logic rather than my heart, and angry that Mrs. White had downplayed his condition over the telephone.
“If it makes you feel any better, I think he slept most of the day, although I heard him screaming in pain a couple of times last night before I retired to bed. Mrs. White dismissed me around eleven. She said there was nothing I could do.”
“Has the doctor been called?”
“Yes, Dr. Petersen stopped by yesterday afternoon on his way out of town. If you ask me, I don’t think he was here long enough to be of any help—as usual. Sometimes I doubt that he takes Mr. Sterling’s sickness seriously. He prescribed rest and left a medicine to alleviate the pain.”
“Yes, I have my doubts about Dr. Petersen as well. Something is definitely not right.” I turned to see the solid walls of Oak’s Place staring back at me and wondered, “What secrets do you conceal from me?”
“Good luck, Florence.” Zaira gave me an encouraging pat on the arm.
“Thanks, Zaira.” I entered the house, filled with foreboding of what lay in store for me.
I wasn’t too surprised when Mrs. White intercepted me in the hall. “Can I have a word with you, Miss Contini?” Her short body, a solid barrier, stood between me and Alex’s room.
“Perhaps after I see Mr. Sterling.” I tried to get past her, but it wasn’t an option.
“It can’t wait. We need to speak right now. Besides, he has finally fallen asleep.” There was a firm resolution in her gaze; she wouldn’t yield to my desire to see him.
My natural impulse was to push her out of the way; I was Alex’s fiancée after all. But the civil way to proceed was to listen to her and avoid an ugly confrontation. “Very well. Let’s talk then.” He might be asleep after all.
“In your office.” Mrs. White signaled for me to go first.
I walked briskly in front of her, my head spinning in all directions. Why now? What could be so important?
“Wait for me. I have to get something,” Mrs. White instructed.
I went into my office. She disappeared into the shadows of the corridor.
The warmth of the sunlight shining through the window’s glass attracted my attention; it was calming. I noticed more birds than usual sitting on the tree branches that peacefully swayed near the house. Everything would be all right. I could face whatever storm Mrs. White was about to unleash—a woman’s intuition never failed her; something unwelcome was coming my way.
Her silent steps came through the doorway. Alone in the room with Mrs. W
hite, the door closed, and I felt claustrophobic. Mrs. White ambled to a chair, her hands clutching a brown envelope. I sat across from her, behind the desk.
“I know you have many unanswered questions, things that have been puzzling you about Mr. Sterling’s past.” Her voice was unnaturally serene.
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” I said, wanting it to be true, but deep inside I would always yearn to know, and she knew it.
“On the contrary, now is when it matters the most. You see, first, you can’t marry a man you don’t know and, second, I worry about myself,” she disclosed sorrowfully. “I worry about my eternal salvation.”
“Your eternal salvation? What does that have to do with me? Forgive me, Mrs. White but I don’t think this is the appropriate time. Besides, why now? When you have never been willing to disclose anything about Mr. Sterling. Why now?”
“Because this is the perfect time. I have carried a heavy weight of lies for way too long now. I’m not getting any younger, and I need to clear my conscience. You need to know now, when there is still time—time to call for justice. At first, I hoped that you would stay away, and then I hoped that your relationship would fail, but things got out of control, and I can’t stand watching this madness in silence any longer.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You want to know what Mr. Sterling is hiding from you. You want to know why your presence causes him so much misery,” she said frankly.
“Where are you going with all of this?”
“Let me tell you a story that will put an end to all the mystery.” She sat back in the chair, her fingers nervously tapping on the envelope lying across her lap.
“I don’t want to know anything about his past,” I said sternly. The truth I had so desperately wanted to know was suddenly frightening to confront.
“You have to know because his past is your past.” The profundity of her words combined with the certainty in her voice was a sure hook. I was trapped. Yes, I wanted to know. “All I ask of you is that you listen and, if you can, spare some sympathy toward me. I have made many mistakes in the name of love—mistakes that have destroyed my life. I can’t change the past, but I can appease my conscience by telling you the truth. Whatever you decide to do with it is up to you. As for me, I’ll be free of the awful torment that lives in my soul.” She paused, gauging my reaction.
Exerting an immense amount of willpower to keep my curiosity under control, I said, “You have five minutes. Go on.”
She started as if she were telling a child’s fairy tale.
“Once there was a young, ambitious soldier. Being the only child of a prominent family, naturally, he was brought up to think that he could have anything he wanted. After a few years of service in the British Army, not advancing as fast as he would have liked, he felt frustrated at the ample competition he had to fight against for a higher rank.”
“You are referring to Mr. Sterling,” I interrupted, trying to clarify her words.
“Let me finish my story first, Miss Contini, then you can ask anything you’d like.” I took a deep breath as she went on. “This soldier had a cunning mind and was very handsome.” Mrs. White’s fingers clutched the envelope on her lap. Remembering the picture of the young Alex, I silently agreed with her comment.
“Go on,” I prompted, but checked my watch to fake indifference.
“To his luck, or condemnation—I don’t know which—he pursued the niece of his superior officer, a general. Like many others before her, she fell helplessly in love with the young soldier. Soon after they were married, he was promoted to the rank of lieutenant general. His advancement brought him contentment for a short while, but he felt miserable with his now unwanted marriage. His young wife had served her purpose helping him to the top—she was now useless to him.” Mrs. White paused. I was unsure what the emotions rising in me were.
“This really isn’t necessary,” I said untruthfully, not making a real attempt to stop the conversation.
She ignored my comment and continued. “Miss Contini, are you acquainted with the history of the Great War?” I was surprised by the question.
“Not much.”
“England, like other countries at that time, was constantly on guard. There were endless traitors and many internal battles fought. It was a time of confusion but also of opportunity for many. So, the solution to his problems unexpectedly came to him.” Mrs. White’s voice shook a little as if horrified by the images that entered her mind. “News reached the general of unmarked ships sailing from the North Sea down south towards the English Channel. The army was unsure of how to proceed. The ships didn’t have authorization to be on Britain’s waters and communications were down.
“Under panic and pressure, the lieutenant general was sent to contain the situation in person while the general stayed undercover at his manor in the New Forest to guard his baby daughter—his wife had died giving birth to their only child. The young wife of the lieutenant also stayed at the manor with her uncle, the general.
“The lieutenant sailed to intercept the enemy. To everyone’s confusion and relief, the ships turned around without any conflict. It was then that the lieutenant got news of two other ships which had passed by the day before, reaching land farther down south.
“The lieutenant discovered that their plan was to attack the New Forest, the general being their obvious target. The lieutenant could have sent a message to London for help right away, but he didn’t.
“A terrible plot formed in his mind. The general was one of the richest, most powerful men in the country. The lieutenant was next in line to take his place, not only in the army, but also his estate—if only his niece and his daughter weren’t in the way. But if the enemy reached the New Forest, all the obstacles could be removed.” Mrs. White paused to inhale deeply.
I started to feel nauseated. Could this possibly be true?
“It wasn’t difficult to delay the message long enough to accomplish his purpose without anyone ever suspecting it. Greed and power took full control and everything went according to plan.
“When the young soldier reached the manor, he found that no one had survived the attack. The outcome pleased him until he discovered that the nanny and the baby were missing.
“He searched far and wide, but it was as if the earth itself had swallowed them. It intrigued him very much—how could the nanny have been so quick in her flight? Part of his curiosity was satisfied when the soldiers discovered an underground tunnel beneath the house leading deep into the forest.” Mrs. White got to her feet and strode to the window, her eyes moist.
The terrible feeling growing in the pit of my stomach was excruciating. The only escape from reality was to refuse to believe it—Mrs. White had to be lying. The words kept repeating in my mind like a lullaby slowly subduing my rational thinking. She is lying. She is lying.
“He convinced himself that the baby was too little to cause any problems, but eventually she would grow up. And the nanny might have known something, so he kept searching, determined that both of their lives had to be ended. Meanwhile he felt safe. The only person, who knew the whole truth, was his lover. The one who would never betray him, the one who would’ve done anything in the world just to be with him.” Mrs. White groaned with regret. “Just to be with him one more time…to feel his hands…his lips…his passion.” She broke off, emotions suddenly breaking to the surface. “But when he was done using people, he discarded them like garbage.” Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“I can’t believe it,” I whispered. Compassion and understanding caught me by surprise; I felt her anguish, her inability to detach herself from a destroying obsession. Or, perhaps it was more than that. Perhaps, it was a destroying love.
“Now, Miss Contini, shall we name the people in the story? I know you are a smart girl and have already figured it out. Nevertheless, let’s call them by their proper names. The general in command was Marcus Contini.” Mrs. White placed emphasis on the last name. I felt as if I had be
en stabbed with a knife. “The name of the lieutenant, who later became the general in command, is Alexander Sterling.” I closed my eyes trying not to lose composure. “The faithful one who knew and protected his secret was I.” I could feel the anger building up in every living cell I possessed. “Well—who are we missing?”
“The baby—who was the baby?” I demanded, dreading the answer which I already knew.
“Her name is Florence Contini,” said Mrs. White pitifully. I sprung off the chair that had held me in place long enough and hit my fists on the table.
“You are lying! You miserable witch. It’s all lies!”
“I knew you wouldn’t believe it—you’re blinded by pain and love—so here!” She threw the envelope that she had been guarding, on the desk in front of me. “See for yourself!”
My shaky hands managed the small task of opening the envelope with difficulty. My eyes flooded with tears, making it harder to concentrate on the contents once I retrieved them.
The first document, which my eyes scanned, was of the inheritance which Alexander Sterling had received from Marcus Contini. The next document was a military form with all kinds of dates and ranks on it. I couldn’t focus. I didn’t want to see.
“This doesn’t prove anything.” I choked on my own tears as they welled up and then gushed miserably down my cheeks. “Marcus Contini could be anybody—I don’t believe you!” I slammed the hateful papers on the desk.
“I just want to be at peace with myself. There was a terrible evil done to your family, and I can’t live with it any longer. I believe that heaven guided you here to give me a chance to make amends. Unlike Mr. Sterling, who believes that you were sent as a punishment to him. Old sins have long shadows, Miss Contini.”
“I don’t—I can’t believe it!”
“What you believe doesn’t matter, for it is not going to change the truth!” she shouted back at me in exasperation. “I tried so hard to keep the two of you apart. I knew the terrible consequences that would result from all of this. But he wouldn’t listen.” The sincerity in her voice was suffocating.
Awaken, Shadows of a Forgotten Past Page 18