Enlisting Redemption

by D. Allen Henry

  Chapter 11

  Compassion

  Mount Sinai Hospital – The Following Morning

  Trevor was still in plenty of pain, but he was somehow feeling much better. Having just completed a liquid breakfast, he was gazing out the window when in walked Sarah, accompanied by Inspector Rush.

  “Good morning Sarah. Hello, Inspector. What brings you to my bedside?” Trevor inquired in confusion.

  “Hi, Trevor,” the inspector responded in his typically terse way, “How are you feeling?”

  “I’ve been better, I suppose, but all in all, I believe that I am doing quite well, thank you.”

  “Excellent! The doctor tells me you will make a full recovery,” and, now turning to more important matters, he volunteered, “It seems your plan worked, Trevor.”

  “Right,” Trevor responded morosely, “It managed to get me shot!”

  “Oh, more than that, I’d say,” Inspector Rush observed.

  “How so?” Trevor queried blankly.

  “They got him, Trevor. Andrakis committed suicide last night, or at least it was designed to appear that way. Damndest thing, he jumped off the Acropolis in downtown Athens.”

  “What!” Trevor blurted, and wincing in pain from the effort, he whispered, “He’s dead? Are you quite certain?”

  “Yep,” was the curt response.

  “Well, I’ll be…” Trevor whispered, his voice trailing off.

  “There’s more,” Inspector Rush now put in.

  “More? What more could there possibly be than that?” Trevor murmured.

  “I’m afraid Bryan Highsmith committed suicide this morning as well.”

  “What!” Trevor exclaimed and, lurching forward, he winced yet again in pain. Flopping back, he whispered, “What on earth is going on, Inspector?”

  “It’s complicated, Trevor.”

  At this evasive response Trevor turned and, frowning at Sarah, he whispered, “I say, Sarah, are you following this?”

  “Inspector Rush filled me in a short while ago. You’re not going to believe what transpired, I’m afraid.”

  At this remark, a burgeoning silence invaded and, seeing the right time had arrived, Inspector Rush now turned to Trevor and inquired, “Are you up for a story?”

  Staring quizzically at the inspector, he croaked, “I suppose I have no choice, so lay on Macduff.”

  “What?” Inspector Rush responded in confusion.

  “Oh, nothing, Inspector. I am simply reminded of something from my youth,” Trevor muttered.

  “Perhaps we are thinking of the same events, Trevor,” and with that the inspector began explaining, “It all started at a mixer in a sorority house on the UVa campus in the fall of 1968. One can assume that, given the ages of the participants and the readily available supply of alcohol, not to mention the doubtless ample quantity of hormones present on that occasion, it is no surprise that excessive fireworks resulted from that event.”

  Trevor suddenly supplying an arched brow laced with a frown of puzzlement, Inspector raised one hand in signaled patience, thenceforth continuing with, “I am speaking, of course, of the night that you and Bryan met Vanessa, Sarah and Rebecca. You see, it all started on that very night.”

  “What makes you think that, Inspector?” Trevor interjected.

  “Trevor, I’ve been on this case for what seems like half my life, and during that span of time, I have interviewed more persons than you can possibly imagine, including all five that I just mentioned. And I can tell you this – the five of you led me on quite a merry chase, each one but Sarah in turn responding evasively to my every question. But despite that, I eventually began to put it all together.”

  “Put what together?” Trevor interjected yet again.

  “Think back to that night, Trevor. When Vanessa and you met, sparks immediately began to fly. Bryan seeing your apparent intoxication with Vanessa, his attention was immediately drawn elsewhere, to Vanessa’s companion Rebecca. For her part, Vanessa was instantaneously smitten by you. On the other hand, Rebecca being the least experienced of the four, she was simply confused by events of that evening. Sarah, being a fifth wheel, was left out of the developing melee. And finally, we come to you, the rakish young Englishman. You of course were interested in both Vanessa and Rebecca, knowing full well that you were sufficiently attractive to UVa coeds that you could have the pick of anyone you chose.”

  Seeing Trevor’s intended objection to this rather caddy remark, Inspector Rush admonished, “Spare me your feckless denials, Trevor.” He then continued with, “So, on that night the seeds were planted for what would eventually grow into an international spectacle involving rape, disappearance, political intrigue, international relations, kidnapping, murder, and suicide, not to mention hearts broken, and lives forever scarred.

  “You see, by evening’s end, Vanessa had fallen indelibly for you, Trevor. And, not surprisingly, Bryan had fallen for Rebecca. These two unfortunate developments were the seeds, seeds that, when they sprouted, precipitated no end of mayhem. Now, think back, Trevor. Certainly you will recall that Bryan questioned you shortly thereafter regarding your intentions as to Rebecca,” and at Trevor’s nod of affirmation, he proceeded, saying, “And you were certainly aware from the get go that Vanessa was chasing you obsessively,” thereby prompting a second confirming nod.

  “You, like an idiot, had no notion as to the enormity of Bryan’s affection for Rebecca, despite Bryan’s feeble attempt to convince you of such. Indeed, your rather callous treatment of him caused him serious injury, one that would later lead to retaliation on his part. For her part, Vanessa was smart enough to know that, if she wasn’t already, Rebecca would eventually become serious competition for your affections.

  “And so, when Halloween rolled around and Vanessa lost the dance competition to Rebecca, Vanessa took action on that very night in an effort to preempt your mounting attraction to Rebecca. Spiriting you away from the party, Vanessa had her way with you in the woods in hopes that her wanton actions might redirect your attentions back towards her.

  “But that was not to be. Instead, perhaps because of Rebecca’s Halloween performance, or even more so because of her rejection of you on that lone date, you somehow became obsessed with Rebecca. This, of course, was not a happy development for Bryan, who was still smarting both by Rebecca’s rejection of him and your rather cavalier dismissal of his feelings for her.

  “Bryan therefore set a plan in motion, a plan that he hoped might drive a wedge between you and Rebecca. When one of his frat brothers shortly thereafter mentioned some nefarious party to be held in Washington, DC, he immediately recognized it to be the perfect opportunity to create mayhem between the two of you. Having gleaned Rebecca’s money problems from Vanessa, he approached you in a supplicating manner, seemingly offering you the opportunity to restore Rebecca’s affection for you. But in reality, he was sowing the seeds of destruction. You of course, had previously let slip to Bryan that Rebecca was a virgin and, having by then contacted Andrakis’ goon and finding Rebecca to be ideally suited to the role, Bryan thenceforth arranged with Andrakis to employ Rebecca for his birthday party.”

  “How do you know all of this, Inspector?” Trevor interrupted.

  “Wasn’t easy, I’ll tell you,” Inspector Rush observed, “In fact, I was only able to confirm the last yesterday.”

  “How so?”

  “I had one of my agents meet with Sarah on the mall. The agent met with Sarah, ostensibly for a friendly chat, but in reality to ensure that Sarah was not part of his sinister plan. Anyway, the agent was wearing a wire, and during the course of the conversation, Sarah confirmed that Bryan had let slip to her his awareness that Rebecca was a virgin on the night of the birthday party.

  “I might add, the clandestine meeting this morning confirmed something I’ve suspected all along – that Sarah was the one person I knew that could be trusted throughout this long and frustrating investigation,” and, turnin
g to her, Inspector Rush said, “Sarah, without your help, I doubt this case would have ever been solved. Thank you.”

  At this Sarah blushed and responded, “I can’t take credit, Inspector. I was just trying to help my friends.”

  “Yes, well, you accomplished that objective. It’s just too bad it hasn’t turned out so well for you.”

  Now turning his attention back to the subject, Inspector Rush continued, “And now we come to you, Trevor. On the night of the birthday party on the yacht you had no idea what was about to transpire. Nonetheless, you bear a great deal of responsibility for having led Rebecca into that mess, and you compounded it via a plethora of reprehensible actions both that night and thereafter. I will not go into detail regarding these, for you surely know them well, but I would be remiss if I did not at least mention that your filming of the event was truly depraved,” and pausing to frown in consternation at Trevor, he added, “Still, the film turned out to be the straw that broke the camel’s back, as it were.

  “But I digress. So shortly thereafter, you will recall that I summoned you back to Washington and, as you well know, I had your room searched for evidence of your wrongdoing. As I’m sure you are aware, the so-called ‘scorecard’ was the single piece of evidence that convinced me of your active involvement in the heinous crime committed against Rebecca. I don’t mind telling you, that was the item that misled me for the longest time, but eventually I was able to determine that it was entirely bogus, having been both forged and planted in your room by a still smarting Bryan. And when I discovered that part, I began to reconsider, contemplating other possibilities for the first time.

  “And now we come to the part played by Vanessa. It seems that she was in fact not impregnated by you the night of the Halloween party. I found out recently of your marriage and her subsequent miscarriage from Sarah. Armed with this information, I went searching through a whole lot of medical and court records, and I was able to determine that there was no record of the miscarriage Vanessa claimed to have suffered in the spring of 1969.”

  “You’re kidding!” Trevor whispered in dismay. “Why would she have done that?”

  “Trevor, you haven’t been listening to me! She seduced you to recapture your affections, but then, seeing that it didn’t work, she cooked up a fictitious pregnancy in hopes of blackmailing you into marrying her. Reasoning that you would be off at war when the ill-fated birth was to be expected, she had ample time to affect a cover-up of her deception.”

  “I say,” Trevor whispered in obvious confusion.

  “But there is more, Trevor. It seems that one of Vanessa’s sorority sisters hailed from Baltimore. One day she came to Vanessa, swearing that she had seen Rebecca sitting on a park bench in front of the YWCA building in downtown Baltimore. At this point you were still in Vietnam and, intent upon protecting her interests, Vanessa drove to Baltimore, whereupon she confirmed her sorority sister’s contention. Don’t ask me how she came up with such a heinous plan, but she subsequently approached Hal Bernstein, owner of the Stafford Club, and convinced him that there was a gorgeous former exotic dancer living at the YWCA, and if he were to approach her, she might be persuaded to perform at his club.”

  “That’s bizarre! What was the point of that?” Sarah interjected.

  “Bizarre though it may be, during her interrogation yesterday afternoon, I was able to use the threat of indictment to coerce from her that she was simply trying to ensure that, should Rebecca ever turn up again, you wouldn’t even consider pursuing her romantically, Rebecca by then having turned to a disreputable life. After all, Vanessa was aware from the newspapers that you were the heir to an Earldom.”

  “So, what will happen to Vanessa, Inspector?” Trevor inquired obliquely.

  “Oh, nothing, I suppose,” he responded, “I doubt that the DA will indict her. After all, she is little more than a jilted woman, albeit a highly unethical one. Anyway, back to our story. So Rebecca went to work at the Stafford Club, as you well know.”

  “Yes, Mimi confirmed that fact to me, although I never actually saw Rebecca perform.”

  At this Inspector Rush peered at Trevor for a moment, then proffered, “And you never could have, for that matter.”

  “What! Why?” Trevor blurted.

  “Because she never did, that’s why,” Inspector Rush observed, “Rebecca never performed in the Stafford Club. She was a table waitress, nothing more.”

  “Bollocks! I’m stunned…” Trevor stammered, “You’re telling me that Rebecca was at no time an exotic dancer!”

  “Yes, that is what I am telling you. Despite yours and Vanessa’s best efforts to the contrary, Miss Carey is a young lady of the utmost character.”

  “I say…” Trevor mumbled inanely.

  Ignoring Trevor’s reaction, Inspector Rush pressed on, positing, “And now we come to Bryan. So you and he came home from Vietnam shortly thereafter and, unfortunately for Bryan, his previous underhanded machinations caught up with him. Andrakis’ goons tracked him down and, threatening to expose his underhanded dealings, they blackmailed him into serving as their mole in Andrakis’ quest to locate Rebecca.

  “Now comes the worst part. You visited Wharton Manor for Christmas last year, and your prying sidekick Bryan visited with you. And guess who showed up as well – none other than the long-lost Rebecca. You will recall that Rebecca was initially receptive to your attempts to make amends, but for reasons unbeknownst to you she retracted the following morning.

  “That, of course, was my doing. I was by then highly suspicious of Bryan and, upon hearing that he had travelled with you to England, I checked in with Rebecca’s handler, William Farnsworth. He confirmed that Rebecca was at Wharton Manor, whereupon, despite the late hour in England, I immediately called the manor in a panic. Fortunately, I was able to reach Rebecca and I convinced her that she was in immediate mortal danger, thereby inducing her to depart the following morning. Farnsworth subsequently met up with her, whereupon she went directly into hiding. Bryan having been charged by Andrakis to inform him of her whereabouts, she would otherwise doubtless be dead by now.

  “And now we come to Rebecca’s unfortunate part in this entirely sordid affair. Thusly informed of her imminent danger but not the reasons for it, Rebecca made the once again erroneous assumption that you, Trevor, were at the root of it. Accordingly, she slipped away from Agent Farnsworth two days later and, arranging to meet you within a London pub, she and her accomplices kidnapped you for the purpose of scaring the holy crap out of you. Perhaps in her own way, she believed that it might provide her with added protection. At any rate, while I cannot condone her actions, I have great admiration for her perspicacity throughout her lengthy demise. Although much of what she has suffered is due to her own actions, she has proven to be a survivor.”

  “I’ll say,” Sarah put in, adding, “That girl is my hero!”

  “Mine, too,” Trevor whispered, “Where is she, anyway, Inspector?”

  “Unfortunately, I am not at liberty to say. Until the fallout from Andrakis’ death has settled, she must remain in the witness protection program,” and so saying, he arose from his chair, thereby signaling an end to the meeting.

  “Well, I must be going, you two,” Inspector Rush now concluded, “Things to do, you know.”

  Reaching forward with his hand, Trevor whispered, “Thank you, Inspector. I shall forever be in your debt.”

  “As I am well aware, Trevor, and just so you will know, I intend to call in that debt.”

  “Oh? How so?” Trevor queried.

  “All in good time, sir. All in good time,” and so saying he departed.

  Washington – Spring, 1977

  The phone rang and, grabbing it hastily, Rebecca exclaimed, “Is that you, Sarah?”

  “Yes, of course. My, we are in a hurry! How are, you Rebecca?”

  “You tell me, Sarah. What did you find out? Tell me!”

  “It seems you got it all right
,” Sarah volunteered, “It wasn’t easy, but I managed. I had to get a couple of glasses of scotch down his gullet before I could weasel it out of him, though. It’s all true. Working through his father, Lord Sutherland, Trevor got British Intel to blackmail Andrakis. Once the money was handed over, they sent a copy of the tape to Andrakis’ uncle, who is some big mucky-muck in Greece. Apparently, he had Andrakis assassinated.”

  “I thought so,” Rebecca responded thoughtfully, “Wow! It still seems unbelievable, despite the fact that he actually pulled it all off.”

  “Yeah, I can’t believe it either. I do so adore him. Frankly, I thought for the longest time he was in love with you. I mean, for goodness sake, he didn’t have sex for eight years, at least not until recently. That was ridiculous, even if he had been in love with you.”

  “What! He didn’t have a relationship at all since I left? That’s hard to believe, Sarah. And what’s this about until recently?”

  “I’m afraid I shouldn’t say,” Sarah demurred, “Besides, when’s the last time you had a romp in the hay?”

  “That’s different,” Rebecca responded flatly.

  “Yeah, right. Tell me about it…”

  “No, seriously, I’ve been really busy.”

  “Listen, Rebecca, nobody is that busy, at least not for eight years. Are you telling me that you’ve never slept with anyone since Andrakis raped you?”

  “That’s about the size of it.”

  “Well, doesn’t that beat all. Well, listen, you should have some fun now that you’re out of the witness protection program, and rich to boot! I certainly plan to.”

  “Yeah…right…” Rebecca stammered morosely, “I’ll call dial-a-guy right away!”

  Wharton Manor – May, 1977

  Trevor and Sarah turned the Rolls into the long driveway. The flight over had been depressing, the thought that his mother might be dying being overwhelming to Trevor. She had been his rock, even during the times when she had refused to speak to him. She had always been the force that drove him. How would he live without her?

  They arrived at the front door, and before they had time to descend from the Rolls, there was Smithers, tugging the car door open for him.

  Seeing him, Trevor exclaimed, “Smithers! How are you?”

  “Excellent, sir,” he replied.

  “And how is my mother?”

  “I believe she is recuperating, sir, but you will have to ask for yourself.”

  “Oh, I say, that is good news, Smithers!” And at that he turned and introduced Sarah.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Sarah,” Smithers responded stiffly.

  They entered the great hall, and there awaiting them was Lord Sutherland. Trevor embraced his father and inquired, “How is she, father?”

  “I am happy to say, I believe she shall make a full recovery, Trevor.”

  At this, Trevor let out a long breath, exclaiming, “Good Lord, what a relief. I was seriously worried. Under such circumstances, one dreams up all sorts of horrors on the long flight over.”

  “Yes, I can imagine. But tis all better now, and we can have a pleasant weekend together. I shall take care of everything, as your mother is not quite up to managing the manor at the moment.”

  “Under the circumstances, that sounds for the better. I shall help Sarah get settled in, and then I shall see mother. Where is she?”

  “At the moment she is resting in her boudoir. I shall rouse her and tell her that you are here. She should be in the sitting room within the hour.”

  “Excellent. We shall see you there shortly, father.”

  An Hour Later

  Lounging within her favorite chair, Lady Sutherland awaited the arrival of her guests. She was, of course, completely recovered. In point of fact, she had not been ill to begin with. Shortly thereafter, Trevor and Sarah entered the room, whereupon Trevor took a moment with his mother, in the process ensuring that she was indeed well. Thereafter, he introduced Sarah to Lady Sutherland.

  “I’m so happy to meet you, my dear,” Lady Sutherland volunteered. “Trevor has told me so much about you. I feel as if I already know you.”

  “Thank you, Lady Sutherland, and I you,” Sarah responded.

  “Please, call me Felicité,” and at that, she gave Sarah a sly wink. Then, turning to Trevor, she said, “Trevor, don’t ask me what he wants, but your father has asked me to have you meet him on the tennis court. He tells me that the court has some structural damage, or something to that effect, and he wants your best engineering advice regarding the repairs. Would you mind, dear? I shall entertain Sarah until you return.”

  “Not at all, mother. I doubt that I know anything at all regarding the structural characteristics of tennis courts, but I shall endeavor to provide aide and be back within a few minutes.”

  After his departure, Sarah volunteered, “That was masterful, Felicité. I believe that our plan is going off perfectly. And if it succeeds, Inspector Rush will be pleased to know that Trevor’s debt to him has been paid in full.”

  “We shall see about that, all in good time. Now, I suggest that we take a seat. This may in fact require quite some time.”

  On the Tennis Court

  Wandering through the trees, Trevor could make out his father on the tennis court, hands behind his back, pacing to and fro. Wondering exactly what had gone wrong with the court, he supposed that he was about to find out. Arriving at the gate, he called out, “Sir, mother says you wanted to see me? What seems to be the problem?”

  Seeing his son, Lord Sutherland came towards him, announcing pompously, “Well, this is only my opinion, mind you…” This pronouncement by his father being one that had always piqued Trevor, his interest immediately intensified. “But it seems to me that this battle needs to be nipped in the bud. Accordingly, your mother and I, along with our fellow conspirators, have decided to ‘take the bull by the horns’, as the saying goes. I confess to never having quite understood what that saying means, but there it is nonetheless.”

  “Father, what on earth are you babbling about?” Trevor inquired in stupefaction. In all his life he had never heard his own father blather thusly.

  “Patience, Trevor, patience. I’m getting to the heart of the matter. Your mother and I quite agree that it is high time to put an end to the conflict, and what better place than a field of battle. So you see, the setting seems infinitely appropriate.”

  Still completely baffled and by now even aggravated by his father’s somewhat ludicrous circumlocution, Trevor could only await clarification.

  “And you will recall, many years ago, when you were but a boy, I took you on a trip across the Channel and visited the battlefield at Verdun.”

  “Yes, father, how could I forget that trip. But what has it to do with this moment?”

  “Patience! I am quite getting there, however tortuously. You must bear with me. Now, where was I? Ah, yes, Verdun. Two months back, your mother determined that the battle had reached a critical stage. As for my part, on reflection I concurred with her that her suggested course of action was indeed proper. I therefore accorded your combatant the same excursion that you and I shared so many years ago.”

  “What? Combatant? Excursion?” And by now it was quite clear that to Trevor everything was entirely unclear.

  “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I’m making a mess of it. Let me start over. Son, I took Miss Rebecca Carey on a visit to Verdun.”

  “What!” Trevor uttered incredulously. Suddenly at a complete loss for words, he eventually regained his senses, inquiring, “For God’s sake, why, father?”

  “Right. Of course I knew you would ask that. See here, Trevor, something simply had to be done. The battle simply would not abate, the combatants seemingly unable to overcome their mutual quest for vengeance, a vengeance that was quite uncalled for, I might add.”

  “Combatants? Are we talking about The Great War? What has that got to do with Rebecca Carey, fath
er?”

  “No, we are most certainly NOT talking about the Battle of Verdun. We are at this juncture speaking about the decade long Battle of Trevor and Rebecca.”

  Shocked senseless at this revelation, Trevor could only lower his head forlornly, aware for the first time that his parents were somehow cognizant of his predicament. Thenceforth, finding the energy to raise his eyes, he murmured softly, “I see, father. Yes, I quite understand.”

  “Excellent. I had hoped that you would. I have therefore taken the liberty of inviting Miss Carey here today. Trevor, I now command you to enter into peace talks with your adversary. What say you?”

  “Under the circumstances, your wish is my command, sir.”

  “Right! Now, I have of course assured her that she is here strictly under the Sutherland flag of truce. No combat of any sort whatsoever shall be tolerated by either your mother or myself, other than tennis, of course. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, sir, I understand.”

  “Excellent, now take this item and dispose of it properly. I’m sure you shall know how to deal with it at the proper time,” and so saying, he thrust the item within Trevor’s hand.

  Gazing downward at the item Trevor recognized it immediately for what it was and, gaping in confusion at his father, he inquired, “What have you gotten me into, sir?”

  “You shall see soon enough. Now, if you will excuse me, I shall fetch the opposing combatant.”

  “What, is she already here, at Wharton Manor?”

  “Yes, of course,” the now departing Lord Sutherland called over his shoulder, adding from afar, “And Trevor, remember what I told you at Verdun all those years ago. I trust you do recall?”

  “Yes, sir, indeed I do.”

  Within moments Trevor could see her, coming through the trees toward the court. She wore a white sundress and a broad woven hat that protected the sun’s rays from her exquisite milk-colored skin. The sundress had images of tiny red poppies woven into a pattern along each of the extremities – the neckline, the sleeves, and the hem. Her shoulder length hair was a deep red tint that was accentuated by the long graceful waves that cascaded from beneath her hat.

  Seeing her thus, Trevor blinked, rubbed his eyes and, shaking his head, he attempted to recall some distant memory. But under the current circumstances all was fleeting as momentarily, she arrived at the court.

  Approaching him from the far corner, she called timidly, “I’m so sorry, Trevor.”

  Still befuddled by the enormity of the morning’s events, he inquired, “Why ever for, Rebecca?

  “I didn’t plan this. It was your mother’s doing, of course. She was not to be denied.”

  “What? Plan what? What on earth are you talking about, Rebecca?”

  “The truce, of course.”

  “What truce?”

  “The one we two have been commanded to ratify by your mother and father.”

  “Alright, fair enough,” Trevor sighed woefully, “I’m listening.”

  At this she paused and, biting her lip for a moment, she undertook the initial step, “First, I owe you an apology…”

  “You don’t owe me an…”

  She interrupted, “Just hear me out, Trevor. I do indeed owe you an apology. I had to have my vengeance, and I certainly got it. Until then, I had the upper hand. Well, now I’ve lost it, and I don’t mind telling you, I don’t like it one bit.”

  “Upper hand? What upper hand, Rebecca?”

  “Trevor, for seven years, I was the perfect maligned martyr, mistreated by you, raped by another. When one is on the side of right, one can indulge in a certain degree of smug superiority, the accompanying misery notwithstanding. But when one takes vengeance, the side of right is sacrificed and lost.”

  At this she halted to ensure that he was following and, observing his attention had in no way wavered, she subsequently announced, “In my quest for retribution, I descended to the side of wrong. And all the while, you were ascending from the side of wrong, regaining your self-respect, as well as that of others.”

  He eyed her silently, clearly understanding, but nonetheless as yet uncertain as to where this was all heading.

  She stepped two paces toward him and, speaking directly, she offered, “Trevor, I apologize. Please accept my deepest apology. I know I hurt you when I kidnapped you. It was childish of me. It is the most deplorable act of my entire existence. Believe me when I say this – I have learned from my act of vengeance, and what I have learned is that no vengeance is just. I promise, I shall never wreak revenge on you again, not ever.”

  Shocked at her melancholy attitude, Trevor wondered what indeed was going on. Wasn’t he the one at fault for this whole sad episode? Accordingly, searching for just the right words, he replied, “Rebecca, thank you. Of course, I accept your apology. Still, if the revenge that you took on me somehow helped your recovery from what must surely have been the most traumatic event of your life, then I am happy to have been there for you. I owed you that much. In fact, I still owe you something,” and so saying, he thrust the item into her hands.

  “What’s this?” she asked, gazing at it in puzzled confusion.

  “It’s the film,” he admitted, “It’s the only remaining evidence of the heinous crime committed against you. You cannot begin to know the shame I bear for having made it, Rebecca.”

  He then paused for a moment, gaging her reaction. Seeing she had nothing to say, he continued with, “And I apologize to you as well. I apologize for pursuing the first act of vengeance. When you rejected me on our first date, I pursued a course of revenge that has profoundly injured the two of us for countless years, indeed, enduring right up to this very moment, and in the process accounting for untold damage to the both of us, as well as those we care for. Mine was by far the greater sin, and for that I apologize. Please, forgive me, Rebecca.”

  Rebecca removed her sun hat at this and, gazing off into the distance, she turned towards him and said, “Trevor, you have already earned my forgiveness. By your actions - risking your life, restoring mine, as well as that of so many others…not to mention, making me wealthy. I not only forgive you, I admire you, so much so that I cannot even begin to express my admiration for you. Shall we call a truce, a truce for all time?”

  “Yes, dear maligned Rebecca, yes, I do so pledge,” he whispered.

  “I also pledge. I pledge that from this day forward, I shall treat you, Trevor Sutherland, with the compassion that you have so richly earned.”

  Fighting to bring his eyes to hers, his eyes suddenly met hers in a gesture of conciliation that both comprehended had never before been shared between them. He, by now powerless to resist, took a single doubtful step, magnetically drawing himself towards her. There was a hesitant pause…and then, seeing her do the same, he gently pulled her to him in a sympathetic embrace, thereby symbolically sealing their mutually pledged truce.

  After a moment, she stepped back, drew a solitary finger to one eye and, wiping away an escaping tear, she whispered, “You, sir have somehow become my hero, and though I am certain I have sought this truce far too late, I shall remember your acts of compassion and kindness for the rest of my life.” And with this last pronouncement, she turned and walked away.

  Rooted in uncertainty, he stood transfixed by the enormity of the moment, but then, momentarily coming to his senses, he called to her receding figure, “Too late? Too late for what, Rebecca?”

  Turning and facing him, she posited somberly, “Tis not for me to say.”

  At this pronouncement he caught her gaze with his eyes and, holding her gaze, he took a single hopeful step toward her, commanding, “Don’t be evasive, Rebecca. Answer my question: too late for what?”

  Held captive within his gaze, she choked out the words forlornly, “Too late for us,” and at this she hoisted her hand to her mouth in a gesture of futility and sobbed, “Oh, God! I’ve lost you!”

  “Lost? To what, may I ask?”

/>   “Are you not engaged to Sarah?” she whispered doubtfully.

  “Of course not!”

  “What? She told me you were her boyfriend. She said you’d had her in bed. She came with you to Wharton Manor!”

  “I’m afraid you misunderstood,” he replied tenderly, “Bryan was her boyfriend, not I.”

  “Then you’re not in love with her?”

  “No, Rebecca.”

  “But why?”

  “You of all people should know, Rebecca, because I am in love with another.”

  At this, she gasped and, staring skyward, she begged, “Please, do not play with my heartstrings, sir!”

  Reaching her side in three brisk strides, he drew her tenderly within his protective embrace, whispering, “Dear, dear lovely Rebecca, there is no other. Indeed, there can be no other. It was and is, and always shall be – you. You, Rebecca, are the love of my life.”

  “And you mine, you jerk.”

  Epilogue

  When I was ten years old my father took me on a road trip to Verdun, explaining to me that there was a lesson to be learned there. Standing on the imposing battlefield that took the lives of seven hundred thousand soldiers, he claimed that there was a hidden message contained therein. And though it would take many years for me to begin to comprehend his lesson, it was his words to me on that day that would later initiate my difficult and lengthy road to redemption.

  One could dismiss my later folly to the errors of youth, but I choose not to cower behind such a paltry justification. The fact is, when I subsequently grew to manhood I was but a mere shadow of a human being. Indeed, as you now know, my undoing was in point of fact my own doing.

  As the years passed, my father’s words slowly receded from my consciousness. For my part, I grew much too intent on the path to self-destruction, one that I navigated quite successfully, I might add.

  It was only much later, after the traumatic events that occurred on a yacht on the Potomac that I began to search for the meaning underlying my father’s lesson to me that day. And I remembered what he had told me as if it were yesterday. He had told me that the singular antidote to vengeance is compassion. As time progressed, I became more and more convinced that my redemption for those heinous acts of my youth lay hidden within the human remains of a battlefield in Northern France.

  Thus, it was that I came to realize while serving in the U.S. Army that the war that I was fighting was, like the Battle of Verdun, doomed to failure. It being a natural extension of my thinking to recall all those bones in the crypt at Verdun, thus I focused all my energy on the preservation of my fellow servicemen in the hope that they would not suffer a similar fate. And though I did ultimately fail many of them, I at least did my best.

  And then I came home from war, convinced that I had learned the meaning of my father’s message. But eventually I began to sense that I had overlooked something, that my understanding was yet incomplete. And so it was that Rebecca came slowly back into my life, and then and only then did I realize that the real battle lay not on a military battlefield, but rather, somewhere within my own self. You see, I had fought and continued to fight a war with Rebecca and she with me, and here is the worst part of all – neither one of us had the slightest notion what the battle was about, but fight we did nevertheless for close onto a decade of our lives.

  Sadly, I came to the realization that there was no escape from the battlefield unless and until my combatant was herself prepared to show compassion. Accordingly, my ultimate redemption lay in the hands of one who would likely never call a truce. And so it was that my father showed Rebecca the way to my redemption.

  Can there be a greater reward in life than to be afforded the opportunity to bestow compassion upon the very one you have maligned? I suspect - no, I am certain of it – that my father’s words on a long forgotten battlefield half a lifetime ago afforded me the greatest gift of my life - the gift of my redemption.