“Doesn’t respond well to his name does he?” he asked Natasha.
She pointed to Declan’s hairless skull, visible beneath his cap.
“Brain injury,” she whispered. “Actually, our trip was to help him recuperate.”
The customs officer nodded.
“Alright then. Take this with you.”
The officer spoke loudly to Declan as if he was deaf.
“Here. Keep this safe.”
Declan took the form from him and mumbled “Thanks.”
It was done. They were safely back in Canada.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
Joan was excited at the prospect of Elizabeth and Effie’s cocktail party. The event was scheduled from 6 p.m. to 8 p.m. but doubtless some people would linger.
Joan agreed to help Elizabeth out by picking up the twins from a birthday party and bringing them home. It meant she would have to leave the party early but she didn’t mind. She e-mailed Byron who replied he’d be delighted to accompany her. Joan couldn’t wait to show him off to Elizabeth. He was handsome. He was intelligent. He was charming. And she’d reached a conclusion. She was going to take a leap and invite him to her bed. If he rejected her, she’d simply deal with it.
Joan laid on the floor of her living room, legs in the air, doing yoga stretches to limber up her hips. It had been so long since a man had entered her that she hoped bats wouldn’t fly out of the cave. She reached under her yoga pants and slipped a finger inside herself. She thought she felt fairly moist. Surely his attentions would arouse her and get the juices flowing.
Concentrate on breathing, she told herself. She was trying to empty her mind but Byron kept filling it. She remembered the feeling of his firm lips brushing her cheek and the electrifying sensation of his strong, but wiry arms hugging her at the baseball game. Could she entice him? Would he want her? What did men want in bed these days? She couldn’t be sure but whatever it was, she’d go along with it. Oh, stop it Joan, she told herself. You’re worrying way too much. Byron hasn’t even given you a decent kiss yet.
Joan finally gave up on deep breathing and washed her hands. She took out her finest bed sheets, eight hundred thread counts of polished Egyptian cotton and made up her bed. It was now a crisp, white invitation to have sex. Her thoughts turned to the party. What in God’s name was she going to wear? She rooted through her closet, pulling out a couple of dresses that might be suitable. She held them against her as she looked in a full-length mirror. They struck her as dowdy. She needed something with a little more pizzazz. She’d go shopping for something new, and get her hair styled. Maybe she’d even get her makeup done. If she was planning to go all the way, she might as well go all out.
***
After Elizabeth dropped the children at school on Thursday morning, she bumped into Miss Springfield.
“Good morning,” beamed Miss Springfield. “Such a beautiful day with the trees showing off their fall splendour.”
“Yes,” agreed Elizabeth. “Good morning to you. I’m glad I ran into you Miss Springfield. Tomorrow night the twins are allowed to go home with the Jacksons. It’s their first birthday party at a friend’s house.”
“Oh how exciting for them,” said Miss Springfield.
“I’ll bring a permission note in tomorrow,” said Elizabeth.
“I’ll make a note in my book,” said Miss Springfield. “Your children have certainly settled in well here.”
“I’m very pleased,” said Elizabeth. “The other night Jack said ‘Je t’aime’ when I kissed him goodnight.”
“Little sponges,” said Miss Springfield tapping her head.
“I’d like your advice on something.”
Wrinkles appeared in Miss Springfield’s powdered brow.
“Yes?”
“The twins are getting to that assertive stage.”
Miss Springfield nodded.
“Lately I’ve had a terrible time getting them dressed and ready to go to school. They just don’t want to put their clothes on.”
“Oh my dear. That’s so easily solved,” said Miss Springfield, “simply bring them in their pajamas.”
“Really? How does that work?”
“Oh, you’ll see,” replied Miss Springfield. “Follow behind with their clothes in a bag. I can assure you that you’ll never have the problem again.”
“Okay,” said Elizabeth. “I’ll give it a try. Thank you.”
“Not at all my dear. Feel free to contact me with any concerns you might have.”
Miss Springfield turned to go back into her office. There was something she was supposed to do but it had gone completely out of her head.
***
“Is this our house?" asked Declan looking in awe at the stately Rosedale mansion. Natasha tipped the taxi driver.
“No,” she laughed, “this is my father’s place. We’re just staying for one night then going to our cottage up north.”
“Oh,” said Declan. “Is that where the children are?”
“They’re staying with your mother.” Natasha began texting on her phone. “I’ll let her know we’re back. We’ll get the kids from school tomorrow after a good night’s sleep. C’mon.”
Natasha led Declan into the silent house with its polished air of money.
“We have a house, up north?”
“Yes,” answered Natasha.
“Is it a quiet place?”
Declan had had enough of crowds. Even though they’d flown first class, the enclosure of the plane and the noise of the jet engines bothered him. His head occasionally throbbed and his mind still felt webbed with fog.
“Oh yes,” said Natasha. “It’s very quiet. Very remote. You’ll love it Decky. It was my father’s wedding present to us.”
Natasha slipped her hands under Declan’s jacket and shirt, feeling the tantalizing warmth of his skin. She pulled him to her and kissed him. She thought she felt a slight stirring in his jeans. Yes, she’d been right to wait and take her time with him. Just one more night she told herself. Just one more night until everything she wanted was within grasp.
CHAPTER FIFTY
Elizabeth woke from a deep and dreamless sleep. What day was it? Oh yes, it was Friday. Tonight she and Effie were having their cocktail party. She rolled over and checked her alarm. Why hadn’t it gone off? Oh no, she’d forgotten to set it. It was seven-thirty. She only had an hour to get the twins up and ready for school. She pulled on a robe and stuck her head in each of their rooms.
“C’mon sleepyheads. Time to get up.”
Elizabeth rushed downstairs,put on a pot of coffee then headed to the bathroom for a quick shower.
“Get yourselves dressed for school darlings,” she called. She had laid their clothes out on their beds the night before and now dressed herself in black suede pants with a matching turtleneck. She could hear Effie moving about upstairs. Today they would spend their time getting the house in order for their party. The caterers would be arriving at four p.m. along with the florist. Their cleaning lady had been in the day before so everything was vacuumed and sparkling. Still, they had a lot to do.
“Jack. Camille. Hurry up and come down for breakfast,” called Elizabeth.
Jack appeared in the kitchen still wearing pajamas.
“Why aren’t you dressed?” admonished Elizabeth.
“I don’t wanna get dressed for school,” said Jack rubbing his eyes. Camille showed up beside him.
“Me neither.”
Elizabeth recalled Miss Springfield’s advice. It was worth a try.
“Fine,” she said. “You can go to school in your pajamas.”
Camille and Jack looked at each other in surprise.
“We can’t go to school in pajamas,” said Camille.
“I don’t wanna go to school. I don’t feel well. My tummy hurts,” said Jack.
“Mine too,” said Camille.
The tummy complaint was one Elizabeth was used to hearing.
“Have some breakfast then your tummy will feel
better.”
Of all the days for the twins to stay home, this would not be a good one. Elizabeth supposed they’d picked up on the air of excitement in the house and didn’t want to miss anything.
“You’re going to a party after school at the Jacksons,” Elizabeth reminded them.
Jack looked at Camille.
“Yeah,” he enthused.
“Yeah,” responded Camille.
Elizabeth smiled to herself. Whatever one twin did or said, the other mirrored. She placed a boiled egg and toast in front of each of them.
“Now eat up angels. We don’t want to be late. I’m just popping upstairs for two secs to see Aunt Effie.”
Elizabeth found Effie sitting at her kitchen table, swathed in a silk kimono, with a mudpack on her face.
“Hi gorgeous,” joked Elizabeth. “Today’s the big day.”
“Oh yeah Momma,” replied Effie. She began to stand up but then bent over in discomfort.
“Oooh, ohh, ooh,” she cried.
“What is it?” said Elizabeth alarmed.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” exclaimed Effie. “My clit has gone to sleep. Pins and needles. Ouch.”
“I hate it when that happens,” said Elizabeth laughing. “I’d offer to rub it for you but I don’t think that would be appropriate.”
Crossing and uncrossing her legs, Effie said, “You’re not my type anyway.”
“So listen Eff, I’m going to drop the kids off then I’ll swing by the liquor store when they open. How many cases of Veuve Cliquot do you think?”
“Two,” said Effie. “No wait, make it three. Not as if it’ll go to waste.”
“Right,” said Elizabeth. “I’ll see you later.”
Elizabeth left Effie still crossing and uncrossing her legs muttering “fuck” to herself.
The twins had finished eating by the time Elizabeth arrived downstairs.
“Okay you two. We’re going to the car now.”
“C’mon Jack,” said Camille taking her brother’s hand, “we’re going to school in pajamas.”
“I don’t want to go to school,” said Jack defiantly, “my tummy hurts.”
“Mine too,” said Camille.
“You don’t want to miss your party do you?”
“No!” shouted Camille running around the couch.
“Okay then,” said Elizabeth firmly, “let’s get going.”
She collected the twin’s clothes into a bag and put on their jackets. This’ll be interesting, she thought as she buckled them into their car seats. Miss Springfield had seemed positive this was a solution to the twins not wanting to get dressed. She was right. No sooner had they entered the school than a couple of children pointed at the twins and snickered. Jack began clinging to Elizabeth’s leg.
“I want to get dressed mommy.”
“Me too,” said Camille.
Elizabeth hustled both of them into the gym change room and within minutes they were ready to go.
My my, thought Elizabeth, Miss Springfield was right. Elizabeth was certain Jack and Camille would never resist dressing again. She dropped the children off and was heading out the door when she saw Miss Springfield.
“Thank you for the pajama tip Miss Springfield,” said Elizabeth. “I don’t think either of them ever got dressed so quickly before.”
“Logical consequences,” said Miss Springfield, “that’s what we believe in here. As long as it doesn’t hurt them, let them do what they want. It’s an excellent learning tool.”
“Here’s the note giving the twins permission to leave with the Jackson’s after school today,” said Elizabeth handing Miss Springfield an envelope.
“Excellent,” beamed Miss Springfield. She had forgotten to write down this piece of information. She would go and inform the twin’s homeroom teacher.
“This is their first party,” said Elizabeth. “I hope they’ll behave.”
“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” said Miss Springfield.
“I’m sure too,” said Elizabeth. “I’m probably just being overprotective.”
“Overprotective is the land where modern mothers live,” said Miss Springfield kindly.
Elizabeth took a last look through the door into the twins classroom. Jack was sitting on the floor colouring. Camille was showing a doll to her best friend, Phoebe Jackson.
Elizabeth reassured herself. Her children had already had a couple of play dates at the Jacksons while she and Linda Jackson had tea. They’d be perfectly fine without her.
***
Effie bustled about Elizabeth’s living room getting ready for the party. She straightened cushions, adjusted lampshades, and placed an ashtray on the back deck for smokers. Effie smoked once in a while and didn’t understand daily addiction but it annoyed her that smokers were made to feel like lepers. Why couldn’t restaurants or bars deem themselves as smoking or non-smoking? Customers could then choose whether to go there or not. It was maddeningly undemocratic.
After setting a selection of liquor out on the kitchen island, Effie filled several ice cube trays with water. A bartender would arrive at five thirty along with two servers to mingle among the crowd with trays of hors d’oeuvres and champagne. Forty or so people had said they’d come. Effie was well known in the world of fashion just as Elizabeth was well known in the world of music. Together, they were a winning combo. Rags ‘n’ Beats was going to be another success.
***
Pre-school teacher Jessica Mott suddenly felt unwell. She looked at her watch. There was only another forty-five minutes until the end of the school day. Her class was due back any minute. Because it was Friday, they generally spent the last period playing games but Jessica wasn’t up to it. She felt as if she was either going to throw up or pass out or both. She scooted down the hall to Miss Springfield’s office and knocked.
“Come in,” called Miss Springfield.
“I’m terribly sorry Miss Springfield but I’m feeling rather ill.”
“Goodness me, you’re pale as a ghost,” said Miss Springfield. She could see beads of sweat breaking out on the girl’s forehead. “Go home at once,” she ordered.
“Are you sure? I could try to stay for the pickups.”
“No, no. It’s quite alright. I’ll take the juniors myself,” said Miss Springfield. “Off with you now.”
“Thank you,” said Jessica. She headed off to the teacher’s lounge to fetch her coat while Miss Springfield went to the junior classroom just as the children were arriving back from gym.
“Story time children,” said Miss Springfield clapping her hands, “arrange yourself in a circle on the floor.”
She waited until they were all sitting then began to read a story about an adventurous French mouse.
A few minutes before the bell signaling the end of the day, Miss Springfield remembered that she had an appointment with one of the school’s most generous donors. It wouldn’t do to keep him waiting. She telephoned the school nurse, a recently hired woman who came from Portugal.
“Suzanne, would you mind overseeing the parental pickups in the junior room today? I have an appointment.”
“No problem Miss Springhill,” said Suzanne. “I’ll be right there.”
When Suzanne arrived, Miss Springhill handed her a binder containing photos of all the approved caretakers.
“All you have to do is make certain the photo matches the person picking up the children,” said Miss Springfield.
“Sure,” said Suzanne. As she made her way to the meeting Miss Springfield felt there was something else she should have told Suzanne. Was she getting absent-minded? She hoped it wasn’t the beginning of Alzheimer’s.
CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
Natasha swung her father’s S.U.V. into a curved driveway in front of Miss Springfield’s Academy and stopped.
“First classroom on the right,” said Natasha to Declan.
Declan seemed nervous.
“What if I don’t recognize them…Jack and Camille?”
“Just go,
” said Natasha. She was impatient to be away.
That morning she’d made a trip to the mall to purchase suitable clothing for their trip up north. Everything was packed and ready to go.
Declan stood at the doorway of the junior room, surveying the group of children. He felt guilty he couldn’t remember their faces. He needn’t have worried. Jack, busy at the Lego station, stopped what he was doing and stared.
“Daddy,” he shrieked.
“Daddy,” shrieked Camille. The two children ran and flung themselves at him.
“Daddy, you got out of the box,” said Jack, jumping up and down.
“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy!” yelled Camille, clinging to his leg.
Suzanne knew the twins having seen them once for an earache. She opened her binder to the letter ‘T’. Sure enough; there was a photo of Declan. Suzanne looked from the picture to the man standing in front of her and back again. This man was thinner and wore a tweed cap over a shaved head but it was definitely him. Besides, the twins hadn’t stopped shrieking ‘daddy’ since they’d seen him.
“Goodbye,” she said. “Have a nice weekend.”
Natasha was hugely relieved when Declan came out of the school with the children skipping along beside him. She allowed herself the smallest gloat of a smile. Other parents had started to arrive and she knew it was of paramount importance to get on the highway as soon as possible, but there was one thing she had to do first.
Declan buckled the children into the back seat then got in the passenger seat. Natasha pulled quickly away to a convenience store across the street. She handed Declan a twenty-dollar bill.
“Go grab us a couple of drinks for the road, Decky, and some candy for the kids.”
As soon as Declan disappeared inside the store Natasha turned around and glared at Jack and Camille.
“Listen to me you two brats,” she hissed. “From here on, you call me mommy, understand?”
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