That would explain why Alli had such difficulty finding out information. It was covered up by a group of men who couldn’t bear to think they’d been hoodwinked. “Even though I led the expedition, it was the archaeological team, led by Dr. Shaunessy that really did all the hard work.”
“What’s this Dr. Shaunessy like?” Charlotte asked. “Can she be trusted? I only ask because I’m looking for someone to possibly oversee any future digs I might finance.”
Michela sat back as thoughts of Allison filled her mind. For the past month she’d done a very good job of trying to forget her, but the floodgate of memories was broken. “I don’t think you could ask for a better woman than Alli. She’s committed to Finlayson. Part of her Doctoral dissertation was on his expedition.”
“Yes, I know. I have a copy of it in my bookcase if you’re interested.”
Michela looked around. “I’d be very interested in reading her work. Thank you for the offer. As I was saying, she’s very committed.” Michela’s eyes shone and a small smile of reminiscence graced her features. “Sometimes she can be passionate and hard-headed about her work, but her heart’s always in the right place. I don’t think I could recommend anyone more highly.”
Charlotte gazed at Michela. “Do you mind if I asked you a question?”
Michela graciously tilted her head. “That’s only fair.”
“Did something happen between the two of you? Were you more than just friends?”
Michela knew her pain was evident on her face, although she tried to look as expressionless as possible. “Yes, we were, but for a very short time. It’s over now.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You speak so highly of her.” Charlotte looked around as if searching for something. “As a matter of fact, I’m expecting a call from her tonight regarding the arrangements for grandmother’s body. It’s been in the damned hands of Australian customs for the past month now. Do you know that the Patron of Flinders Museum called me and asked if he could show the body?”
“No, I didn’t,” Michela said. “But having had dealings with his daughter, his actions don’t surprise me at all.”
Charlotte slapped her knee. “I can tell you one thing, that’s not going to happen. And if I have my way, I’m going to buy the complete Finlayson artifacts from him, once they’ve spent a reasonable time in his Museum. That’s my grandmother’s history he’s hawking and I want it home. And besides, her final resting place is waiting for her.”
“When are you going to be able to take charge of the body?”
“That’s what Dr. Shaunessy’s going to let me know.” The visual-phone rang. “That should be her now.” She walked across the room and pushed a button on a console and an image of Allison materialized.
As Charlotte discussed the matter of her grandmother’s body, Michela stayed out of Allison’s view. Her heart ached at Allison’s gaunt features, and how exhausted she looked.
“In fact, I’ve someone here you may wish to talk to,” Charlotte said. “Michela come here.”
Michela’s eyes widened and then she tried to relax. She walked to the visual-phone, heart beating in double time. Charlotte patted her arm, stepped away from her, and left the room. She met Allison’s eyes and, for what seemed like forever, they stared at each other. “Hello, Alli. How are you?”
Allison wanly smiled. “Okay, I suppose. I’ve been very busy with the Finlayson artifacts and trying to clear Ms. Finlayson’s ancestor through customs. And I thought getting out of Australia was bad when you’re alive; this is horrendous.”
They laughed although Allison looked as awkward as Michela felt.
“So how are things at the Museum?” Michela asked.
“There’ve been a few changes since we got back. Rick’s been removed. It seems someone got wind of his indirect involvement in Ewan’s death. There was a media circus and old man Peterson asked for his resignation. When Rick didn’t resign, Peterson removed him. Dianne dropped him like a brick and she’s now heading up the Museum’s archaeological department. So, you could say I currently work for her. But I’m fielding a few offers which may or may not come off.”
But how would I contact you if you left? Michela silently thought, afraid of how to broach such a question. “I saw their gravestones today, Charlotte and Elizabeth’s that is. They’re beautiful, Alli. I took some pictures of the site for you. Would you mind if I sent them to your work address?”
“I’d like that a lot,” she quietly said.
“I spoke with Charlotte today. It seems her grandmother kept a diary and that confirms they were married and were lovers.”
“I guessed that. The final entries in Elizabeth’s diary answers that question. Her profession of love to Charlotte could only be that of a lover. Her words are so strong, so full of emotion.” Allison’s eyes filled with such pain and longing that Michela bit her lip to stop from reacting to it.
Michela closed her eyes in resignation. She opened them with the knowledge that it might be the last time she ever saw Allison. “I’d better sign off. Do you want me to get Charlotte?”
Allison shook her head. “No, we’ve finished our business.”
Michela searched for another reason to prolong the conversation and found none. “I’d better let you go. I really hope everything turns out for you down there. Take care of yourself,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
Allison nodded, her eyes glistening. “You too.” Her image dissolved.
“I love you,” Michela said.
Chapter Twelve
My Darling Charlotte,
There is only me now and every day the chore of keeping this diary becomes increasingly difficult. I do not know how much longer I will be able to write to you, however, I shall continue to do so while I have the strength.
I do not rise any more, instead spending the day in bed, reminiscing over our happy times together. There are so many times between the two of us I can recall and yet I fear there will be no more. Yesterday I dreamt of that first night, when you had the strength to take me in your arms. I am so glad you did, my love, for I fear I would have never possessed the courage to take that first step. Our love making that night was sweet and passionate, such as I had never experienced before.
I have so little time left and yet there is so much to say. Tell our son I love him and that I will always be there for him. More importantly, take care of yourself, my darling. Mourn for what we shared together but look toward the future also. It would sadden me if you did not allow yourself to again find happiness.
I am going to stop now as it tires me to write. I do not know if there will be another entry after this, so know, my Charlotte, that I will always be with you and will love you no matter where either of us finds ourselves. There will come a time when again we will be reunited. I will wait for you, forever, if need be. All my love
Elizabeth
Houston—2010
CHRISTINE FLOPPED DOWN on the sofa. “Heaven’s, sis, don’t tell me you’ve taken a vow of celibacy.”
Michela looked up from the pile of mail she was sorting through. She dearly loved her sister’s visits, but recently Christine had taken it upon herself to find another woman for her and it was driving her crazy. “I haven’t taken a vow of celibacy. I’m not interested.”
“It’s been almost fifteen months since your break up with Natalie. What are you waiting for?”
Michela waved her hand. “I’m over that and you know it.”
Frustrated, Christine shook her head. “And it’s been over five months since you returned from Antarctica. Have you gotten over Alli as well?”
Michela shot a warning glare at Christine. “Don’t go there, please.”
Christine pulled a magazine off the coffee table. “At least let me introduce you to some female friends of mine.”
Michela shook her head as she continued to sort through the mail. “Like the last woman you set me up with? What was her name again, Missy or Misty something? The woman was an octopus
.”
Christine laughed. “She seemed intelligent, with a good sense of humor and, well, reserved when I spoke with her. How was I to know she was a nymphomaniac? Anyone can get it wrong sometimes.”
Michela sagely nodded. “So how do you explain Eleanor?”
Christine threw her head back in exasperation. “How was I to know she was a right-wing extremist? How many lesbians do you know who are right-wing extremists?”
Michela chuckled. “That woman had more hang ups than a closet. I couldn’t believe it when she launched into a dissertation on the superiority of the white race. I couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”
“Hmm, she looked so reasonable on the surface.” Christine tilted her head, a pleading look on her face. “Let me have one more go. I promise I’ll get it right this time. In fact, I’ll run a background check if you like.”
Michela shook her head. “Chrissie, I’m not interested.” Not in anyone on this side of the equator anyway. “Let’s leave it at that.” A thick gilt envelope dropped from the business mail and onto the desk. “What’s this?” She opened the extravagant envelope.
Christine leant forward. “What’s what?”
Michela read the contents of the invitation and smiled. “Charlotte Finlayson’s finally secured the complete Antarctica Finlayson collection. She’s having an exhibition at the local museum and, to celebrate its opening, she’s having a casual cocktail party for selected guests next week. It seems I’m invited.”
“Is it stag, or do you get to take someone?”
Michela turned over the cream invitation card and found a hand written note on the back. “It says I’m more than welcome to bring someone. Charlotte says the exhibit will be open for a private viewing the day before the crowds descend.”
“God, that leaves me little time to find someone to go with you.”
Michela smiled at Christine. I’ll give her ten points for persistence but zero for success. “You’re not listening, are you? I don’t want to take a date and I don’t want a woman right now. I’m more than happy by myself.” Except at night when I can’t stop dreaming about Alli.
Christine turned her best sorrowful expression at Michela. “Please yourself, but at least take me. I haven’t seen anything except the pictures you brought back from Antarctica.”
Michela laughed. “Okay, we’ll go together. But I want you to behave. There’ll be no setting me up with eligible women or I’ll tie you up and leave you in your room for the duration.”
“Where are we staying?”
“Charlotte’s note says she expects me to stay at her home, so I guess that means you as well. I’ll have to give her a call and make sure it’s okay.” Michela gave Charlotte a quick call. “She says it’s okay.”
Christine stood and headed for the door.
“Where are you going?” Michela asked.
“Where do you think I’m going? Just because you want to live like a nun, doesn’t mean I have to. There’s bound to be eligible men at this soiree and I want to make sure I’m ready for them. I’m going shopping. Something you could try more than once a year.”
Michela chuckled. “I just don’t see the need for the incredibly large wardrobe you have.” She made a shooing motion. “Off with you then, and don’t spend all your money.”
Michela sat down at her desk, the piles of sorted mail spread out in front of her. She picked up the invite again and lightly tapped it against the side of her head. Allison would love this. An exhibition of the Finlayson dig and, after so many years, returning again to her home country.
She leaned back and sadly visualized Allison’s features. She pulled a series of loose photographs from her top drawer and found her favorite. Allison, the layers of cold weather gear making her look larger than her well-defined, slighter frame, smiled at the camera as she held the Finlayson diary, next to the cot where it had been found clutched in the hands of its previous owner. Michela traced Allison’s features with her finger. “God help me, I still miss you,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.
“AND THIS PERSON here is Ella, my sanity valve,” Charlotte said.
Allison nodded, still taken aback by the size of the mansion. It was like the homes she’d seen in movies—a sprawling estate, replete with lightly wooded areas and lush, green gently undulating meadows, dominated by a beautiful, old family mansion.
Realizing Ella was waiting, she put out her hand. “Hello, please call me Alli, everyone else does. I’m sorry to be gawking like a tourist, but this house is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte said. “It’s been in my family for generations and was the family residence of Great Grandmothers Charlotte and Elizabeth. If you like, I’ll give you a tour later, that is if Ella doesn’t beat me to it. Of course, I could have given you a tour earlier in the week, had you not decided to stay in town.”
Allison shrugged. “I’m sorry but it seemed a lot easier to be where the exhibit was. I tend to get a little self-absorbed when I’m working on a project and end up keeping very late hours.”
Charlotte smiled. “Well, you’re here now. Ella, could you show our guest to her room? Alli, once you’re settled, come downstairs and we can get down to business.” She motioned to the wood paneled door behind her. “I’ll meet you in the study if you like.”
Allison didn’t take long to unpack her small bag and return to the study.
“You’ve worked wonders with the exhibit,” Charlotte said. “This morning, looking at the recreation of the interior of the hut, I almost felt I was there. And the sound effects of that wind are marvelous.”
“I’m glad you like it,” Allison said. “I’d have liked to do something similar at the Flinders Museum, but the patron wasn’t interested. He seemed more focused on getting the artifacts on display as soon as possible.”
Charlotte clicked her tongue and shook her head. “It sounds like his only intent was to start reaping in the profits from the exhibit. How did you manage to recreate the wind? It sounds like Antarctica itself.”
Allison blushed with pride. “It is from Antarctica. Sarah, the glaciologist on the expedition, is back on the Continent. I contacted her and she agreed to record two hours of a windstorm. I looped it so that it repeats every two hours. It really does add to the hut’s ambience.”
“It certainly does. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”
“There are still some things I have to finish up before the official opening tomorrow evening,” Allison said. “Plus, there have been some private visitors through already this morning and so I’m keen to make sure everything is where it should be. I think I’ll head back to the exhibit and tinker a little bit more before I call it a day.”
Charlotte wagged a finger at Allison. “Make sure you’re back here tonight in time for the cocktail party. Now it’s informal, but there are a lot of people I’d like you to meet. Your room has all the luxuries of a hotel room, so make yourself comfortable. But don’t be late.”
Allison nodded. “I promise I won’t be. A couple of more hours should be enough to ensure everything is perfect for tomorrow’s official opening.”
“Michael, my driver, is at your disposal. Have Ella page him and he’ll take you back to the museum.”
“Thank you.” Allison stood. “I’ll see you later then.”
“IF WE’RE COMING to the official opening of the exhibit tomorrow, why are we here this afternoon?”
Michela smiled. “I want to take a peek without being jostled by a group of curious onlookers. Besides, this way I can talk you through the exhibit without becoming the unofficial tour guide to a group of hangers-on.”
Michela held her breath as she walked into the hall. She stared in amazement at an almost full-size replica of Finlayson’s hut, complete with artifacts. She glanced at the panels recording the history of the explorer and then walked into the hut itself. She closed her eyes as she recalled the last time she’d stood in the real structure, with Allison by her side. It had been t
he day before Rob boarded up the hut and they took the opportunity to have one last look at it. Allison recorded pictures of every nook and cranny. It was obvious these pictures had contributed to the room Michela now stood in. Charlotte had spared no expense in recreating this piece of family history. “This is amazing. It’s exactly as it was on the continent.”
Christine walked around, gazing at the weather-beaten wooden walls. Bottles, tins, and jars from an era long gone adorned the shelves. The wooden table, set with a meal, was covered with a cornucopia of old tins—cocoa, condensed milk, and fruit cake. “I almost feel as if I’m there.”
Working in the office to the rear of the exhibit, Allison heard faint voices as they echoed through the empty room. More of Charlotte’s private guests no doubt, otherwise the guard would have never allowed them to pass. Tilting her head, she listened in on the conversation, her heart almost stopping.
“Michela,” she whispered.
She quickly stood and went to a secret entrance in the side of the hut, placed there for emergency evacuation. As softly as possible she slightly opened the door.
Michela nodded. “You’re right. Quite a lot of work has been put into this. Whoever has gone to the trouble to recreate this deserves a lot of praise.”
Allison smiled at the compliment, touched that Michela should feel that way about the exhibit. She couldn’t see the person Michela was talking to without making her presence known.
Christine shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “The sound of that wind. It makes me feel cold just to think about it. You were always a bit of a hot water bottle, can you warm me up please?”
Michela chuckled as she pulled Christine to her and rubbed her back.
Allison stepped back and stifled the noise that rose in her throat. It was the same woman that had met Michela on the dock in Hobart. It was obvious Michela had moved on since their time on the continent. Holding back a sob, Allison quietly closed the private door and softly walked back to her office.
Colder Than Ice Page 27