Secret North

by G. J. Walker-Smith

  I stared at Charli, silently pleading for the explanation I knew she couldn’t give me. Perhaps picking up on my discomfort, she changed the subject. “Why did you choose a solitaire diamond?” she asked.

  Ryan glanced at me. “Because it’s sleek and simple and gorgeous,” he replied.

  She nodded. “It denotes unity and decisiveness,” she told him. “It’s important.”

  Ryan leaned back. The cocky stance was a tell-tale sign that he was about to take her to task. “So I pledged unity and Adam gave you a finger-load of little diamonds. What does that mean, Charlotte?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer. “You got indecision and separation?”

  She shook her head, but she smiled, which was a good sign. “Adam didn’t give me diamonds.”

  Ryan laughed derisively. “I knew it,” he said looking straight at his brother. “You gave her CZ’s.”

  Adam dropped his head, chuckling down at the table.

  “I like BC’s,” announced Bridget, waving her fork like a wand.

  “They’re not CZ’s,” corrected Adam, glancing at Ryan. “They’re stars.”

  “Absolute nonsense,” barked Jean-Luc.

  Everyone ignored him, except Fiona who swatted her napkin at him.

  “The number of diamonds isn’t the most important detail,” continued Charli. “It’s the shape. Round diamonds have fifty-eight facets for a reason.” I looked at the ring on my hand, trying to figure out where she was headed and how the heck she could be sure it had fifty-eight facets. I was grateful when she elaborated. “Years and years ago there were two young lovers from India called Mahir and Nayana,” she began. Jean-Luc groaned but Charli continued without paying him a skerrick of attention. “They shared absolute true love – the kind of love that makes your heart hurt even when things are good.”

  Ryan reached for my hand under the table. He was silently talking again and I loved it.

  “The problem was, Mahir’s father was a tyrant.” She actually dared to glance at her father-in-law as she said it. He pretended not to notice but it was obvious that he had. Tension was practically steaming off him. “He owned a diamond mine, the biggest in the world. It was deep underground and the conditions were terrible.”

  “Were there lots of diamonds under there, Mummy?” Bridget asked, leaning across her dad to see her.

  Charli leaned too, sandwiching Adam in the middle. “So many, Bridge,” she confirmed. “Thousands of them.”

  Bridget smiled. She was no more awed than I was, but the difference was she was permitted to show it. I got the impression I was supposed to find the tale implausible and crazy.

  “Mahir’s father decided to separate the young lovers by sending his son underground to mine for him, but it didn’t go so well,” continued Charli.

  “It never does,” murmured Ryan, fidgeting with the edge of his napkin.

  “Before he left, Mahir gifted Nayana the one thing that was in abundance, a big diamond. It wasn’t pretty and sparkly like the diamonds we know. It was rough and uncut. Mahir told her that no matter what happened, the diamond would keep them together.”

  “Cute story, Charli,” mocked Ryan. “Nothing to do with the shape of Bente’s ring, but ten points for effort.”

  “You didn’t let her finish,” scolded Fiona. She looked at Charli, softening her expression. “Continue your tale, darling.”

  Charli flashed her mother-in-law a tiny smile. “Mahir told Nayana that nothing could separate them. Not the earth, or his awful father, or even death. They were destined to be together and he was convinced that the diamond would play a part.”

  “So what happened?” asked Ryan. “Get to the point.”

  “Hear, hear,” grumbled Jean-Luc.

  “Mahir got caught in an underground rock fall,” she said. “He died, leaving Nayana on the surface mourning him.”

  “Awesome,” said Ryan. “Another heart warming Tinker Bell tale.”

  Adam swept his hand under the fall of Charli’s hair and rested his hand on the back of her neck. “Special, aren’t they?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

  Ryan laughed. “Your wife is special, and not always in a good way.”

  “Ryan!” admonished Fiona. “Apologise.”

  “One day, Ma,” he replied, smirking at Charli. “But not today.”

  Charli didn’t seem to be taking offense. She was probably used to it. “I could leave it at that and say no more,” she threatened.

  “Please do,” replied Jean-Luc.

  Her shoulders straightened up. “Fine, but when you’re awake at four in the morning because you’re still wondering about it, don’t call me.”

  Jean-Luc didn’t seem bothered, but Ryan seemed to think it through, almost as if he’d been in that predicament before. “Continue,” he ordered. “Just get to the point.”

  Her smile was understandable. She was winning, and she knew it. “Well, the heart-hurting love she’d felt for Mahir turned into the angry kind of love that comes with the frustration of separation. Mahir’s father told her she deserved to be alone. He’d never thought she was good enough for his son. Nayana was so angry that she grabbed her diamond and took off to the edge of the river.”

  “Was she sad?” asked Bridget. “Did she go swimming to get happy?”

  “No, she was mad, Bridge.” Charli shook her head. “She grabbed the biggest stick she could find and began whacking the big diamond as hard as she could.”

  The little girl piped up again. “Why was she mad?”

  “Because she thought Mahir had lied to her. He’d told her that the diamond would always keep them together, no matter what. But he was gone and she was alone.”

  “So what happened?” asked Fiona.

  “She hit the diamond over and over again, each time chipping away at the stone,” Charli explained.

  Jean-Luc let out a condescending laugh. “The woman must have possessed superhuman strength to damage a diamond.”

  Charli continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “It wasn’t until she hit the stone for the fifty-eighth time that something extraordinary happened. The splinter that chipped off speared straight through her heart, killing her instantly.”

  “Oh, my God, Charli.” Ryan, was appalled. “That’s a woeful story.”

  “No,” she insisted, rolling her wineglass between her fingers. “Mahir had been right all along. They found each other again in death. The diamond kept them together, just as he promised.”

  “You’re unbelievable,” he told her.

  She was unperturbed. “Maybe, but I can guarantee that every time your fiancée looks at her ring, she’s going to be thinking about how the fifty-eight facets came to be.”

  Ryan glanced at me and I flashed him an awkward smile. She was right. And he knew it.

  “I think your stories are romantic, Charli,” said Fiona wistfully.

  “It’s a bad story,” scolded Bridget. “Whacking is dangerous.”

  Jean-Luc motioned to his granddaughter but looked only at Charli. “This is what you teach your child?” He sounded truly appalled. “Terribly tragic, violent rot.”

  Adam answered for her. “Calm down, Dad.”

  Jean-Luc belted his hand on the edge of the table, making everyone jump. “It’s ridiculous and strange.”

  Adam leaned over and spoke to Bridget. “Go get your boots, baby,” he told her. “They’re near the front door.”

  Bridget wasn’t too young to know that any reason to escape the table was a good one. She jumped off the chair and took off running.

  “Fairy-tales are all as true as you allow them to be, Jean-Luc,” said Charli bravely.

  He glowered. “This is really what you want Bridget to believe in?”

  Charli replied without skipping a beat. “Yes. I want her to find the bone crushing, heart-hurting love too,” she insisted. “It’s all any of us can hope for.”

  “Nonsense!”

  She frowned back at him, more out of pity than anger. “Maybe you’ve ne
ver felt it,” she told him. “I have, and if Bridget –”

  “I’m not listening to this any more,” he barked.

  “Don’t cut her off,” scolded Adam. “Don’t ever do that.”

  Jean-Luc turned on his youngest son in a flash. “The minute your wife contributes something worth listening to, I will hear her out.”

  Adam grabbed Charli’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “That’s it,” he declared. “We’re done.”

  Bridget picked that moment to come rushing back, waving a boot in each hand. “Help me please, Daddy.” Adam crouched and helped her pull them on.

  “Stay,” begged Fiona. “This is supposed to be Ryan and Bente’s evening.”

  Adam straightened up. “It still is, Mom.”

  “Yes,” assured Charli, screaming a silent apology at me with her eyes. “Congratulations again. I’m really happy for both of you.”

  “So am I,” agreed Adam. “Just make sure you get that pre-nup wrapped up nice and tight, Ryan.” He glanced at his father before continuing. “Bente will have a half a chance of being accepted into the fold if there’s no danger of her ripping you off in the divorce.” Fiona sucked in a gasp as if he’d just sworn. I was actually pleased he’d said it. It explained his father’s comment from earlier. “And if you can make sure she keeps her opinions to herself, that’ll score points too,” he added.

  “Sit down, Adam.” Jean-Luc’s tone was calm but menacing. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  “No, we’re leaving.”

  “Now?” asked Bridget.

  Adam scooped her into his arms. “Yeah, are you ready?”

  “Born ready.”

  “Bye Bridge,” said Ryan. No matter how forced it might’ve been, he sounded cheery.

  “Park tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Maybe I’ll go too,” added Adam, already heading for the door. “I may or may not be at work tomorrow, Dad. Sometimes you just need the day.”

  Adam’s attempt at defending Charli backfired a little at the end. After he stormed out with their daughter, she was left standing there.

  “Thanks for dinner,” she said quietly.

  Fiona jumped to her feet and practically ran to her, hugging her tightly. “Of course, darling. Thank you for coming. Say goodnight to Bridget for me.”

  “I will,” she promised.

  “Make sure Adam is at work tomorrow, Charli,” instructed Jean-Luc brusquely. “And let him know I don’t appreciate his attitude.”

  That would’ve been the point that I either apologised on his behalf or burst into tears. Charli was much braver. “I’m not telling him anything,” she replied. “I encourage bad behaviour from Adam. It doesn’t happen very often these days.”

  57. LOOSE CANNON

  Ryan

  I had no right to complain about the craziness of Bente’s family when mine were just as bad. I would’ve been content to put the disastrous dinner behind us and never speak of it again, but Bente had other ideas. Thanks to my brother’s need to sink the boot into Dad with a heavy parting shot, the topic of a pre-nup was high on the agenda. To her credit, she held off mentioning it until we got home. I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth when she appeared in the doorway.

  “Do you want me to sign a pre-nuptial agreement, Ryan?”

  I rinsed my mouth, buying time to work out a tactful reply. It was impossible. Nothing kills the promise of enduring love quicker than the mention of a pre-nup.

  “If things don’t work out, you’ll be taken care of,” I replied diplomatically. “But things will work out because you’re my pecan pie girl.”

  I switched the light off and kissed her on my way into the bedroom. Bente remained near the bathroom.

  “Just so you know,” she began, “it doesn’t offend me. I’ll sign whatever you want me to.”

  I turned back, trying to hide my relief. “I appreciate that. We’ll get it signed and never speak of it again.”

  “Okay,” she replied, ambling toward me. When she put her arms around my neck I was hopeful that the conversation was over. Then she spoke.

  “Your brother and Charli don’t have one, do they?”

  The low groan from the back of my throat was impossible to hold back. “No,” I replied. “They don’t.”

  “It makes your dad nervous.”

  “Charli makes Dad nervous,” I corrected. “She’s a loose cannon.”

  “Do you believe her stories?”

  “No, and if you tell me you do, I’m going to have to seek treatment for you.”

  “There might be some basis to them,” she replied. “I did a bit of research while you were in the shower.” I wasn’t surprised in the least. “Diamonds were first recognised and mined in India. Mahir and Nayana were from India.”

  I rested my hands on her hips. “All that means is that her father paid attention in school.”

  She frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “All her crazy stories come from Alex,” I explained. “Most people teach their kids to ride bikes and tie their shoes. He taught Charli how to surf and be crazy.”

  “I think it’s kind of cool.”

  “So does Adam.” I grinned. “He was so enchanted by it that he married her without a pre-nup.”

  “You know what else I found out?” she asked. “Round cut diamonds actually do have fifty-eight facets.”

  I shook my head, refusing to buy into the nonsense. “She’s a smart girl, Bente. I never said she was silly. Charli is an amazing story-teller, but that’s all there is to it.”

  My grip on her tightened as she pressed herself against me. “So you’re not a believer?”

  I dropped my head, kissing a long line down her neck. “I believe in many things,” I murmured against her skin. “Just not idiocy.”

  58. RICH OR POOR

  Bente

  Weddings tend to take on a life of their own, especially when you have an overbearing sister and a soon-to-be mother-in-law with a desperate need to show off. Ivy turned up at our apartment with a truckload of supplies including Dora, her favourite dressmaker’s dummy. “Help me bring her in,” she instructed, battling to keep a grip on it.

  I stuck my head out the door. Three bolts of fabric, her sewing machine and a couple of boxes of goodness knows what were stacked on the floor.

  “How did you get all this up here by yourself?”

  “I made a few trips.” Ivy set Dora down in the corner. “Is here okay?”

  Ryan entered from the hall, doing up his tie as he went. “Anywhere you like,” he told her.

  “Ry,” I whispered, grabbing him as he passed. “Are you sure?”

  His tie tying didn’t falter as he leaned and kissed me. “Of course.” Clearly he underestimated the work involved in making a wedding dress. Dora and all her accessories weren’t going to be taking over the living room for a few hours. Ivy was a perfectionist when it comes to dressmaking. She was also messy. We’d be living with stray pins and material scraps for weeks.

  “Are you superstitious?” I asked. “It’s supposed to be bad luck to see the dress before the wedding.”

  Ryan shrugged on his jacket before taking my face in his hands. “I’m not superstitious, but if you are, move it to another room.”

  “I’m not superstitious either.”

  “No problem then.” He kissed me again. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Ivy was shrewd. As soon as Ryan was gone, she dropped the diligent seamstress act and slowed her roll to check the place out.

  “This is magnificent,” she praised, prowling the room.

  “See how tidy it is, Ivy?” For some reason, I spoke quietly as if we weren’t alone. “You’ve got to work neatly, okay?”

  She glowered at me. “What happens if I don’t? What will he do?”

  I shook my head, unsure of how to reply. She’d made it sound as if I’d be in for a lashing. “Ryan wouldn’t do anything,” I replied. “But he likes things neat. Just be
respectful of his space.”

  Since moving in with him, I’d come to realise that I liked order too.

  “He’s spoiling you,” she accused.

  “I like being spoiled.”

  She pointed at my left hand. “I can see that.”

  The pretty diamond on my finger suddenly seemed massive. Ivy and I hadn’t grown up with the privilege and wealth afforded to the Décaries. The life I’d stumbled into was a world away from anything we’d known.

  “Be happy for me, Ivy,” I begged in a hushed voice.

  She took a few steps forward, grabbed my hand and studied my ring. “It’s really beautiful,” she praised, dropping my hand. “You’re a real life princess now. You deserve it.”

  I lurched forward and hugged her tightly. “I love him, Ivy,” I declared. “Rich or poor.”

  She took a step back, breaking my hold. Her grin was absolutely wicked. “But rich is better, right?”

  ***

  Ivy didn’t leave until it was time to collect the girls from school. We’d spent the entire day poring over magazines and drawing bridal stick figures.

  No sooner had I gotten rid of her than Fiona showed up. The only good part about her impromptu visit was that she missed Ivy. Allowing those two to meet would require days of planning.

  “No, no, no,” she scolded, marching over to Dora the dummy. “Why would you have a dress made? We’ll buy you one.”

  “My sister is making my gown for me,” I explained. “She’s very clever and it’s important to her.”

  Fiona studied the makeshift paper template pinned to the mannequin. “You need it to be perfect, darling.” She looked so full of pity that anyone would think I’d just run over her cat. “Are you sure about this?”

  I was determined to stand my ground. “She’s very talented.”

  Fiona eventually unlocked my eyes from her forceful stare and invited me to sit down – on my couch – in my home. “Have you thought about the guest list? The invitations have to go out as soon as possible. We need to start on the arrangements for the reception too. “

  “Okay.”

  “You can have whatever you like,” she declared, throwing her arms wide.