by Valerie Tate
And occasionally there was a message that would remind them that all the world wasn’t against them. Chris found Alicia crying over one such e-mail.
“Well I feel a right fool,” she laughed and blew her nose. “After the ‘serial pet murderer’ letter, I was feeling really down and then I received this.” She stopped to blow her nose again. “It’s from Alex Craig.”
He took a deep breath before asking, casually, “Alex?”
She looked up quickly. He really wasn’t a very good actor and, in the midst of all that misery, she suddenly felt ridiculously happy. “Short for Alexandra.” she said, and grinned. “We were roommates in college and she’s the best friend I have. She was always Alex and I was Ali. And sometimes, we were both just Al. Alicia and Alexandra. What were our mothers thinking?”
“Well, I assume yours was naming you after herself.”
“Yes, and Alex was named after her father, Alexander. I suppose I was lucky not to be called Jamesina!” She laughed.
“Or Jemima,” he added, happy to see her smile.
“Actually, I always wanted to be called Jamie, but whenever I tried it out, people always said I didn’t look like a Jamie.”
“They were right. You don’t. You look like an Alicia.”
She threw a cushion at him. “What an awful thing to say.”
“Why? Alicia makes me think of someone beautiful and elegant.”
The look she gave him turned his bones to jelly. “I guess you’re forgiven.”
She turned back to the letter. A cushion flew past her head. She jumped up and hid behind the chair.
“Come to think of it,” he said, sending another pillow her way, “it would be ‘Jamie’ who hurled cushions and I’m sure ‘Alicia’ wouldn’t have your right hook.”
“That would be ‘Al’,” she said, laughing as she shot one back. “Anyway,” she continued, going back to the computer, “Alex has been in Germany on and off for almost two years now. Her mother phoned her when she read about us in the Toronto newspapers and she sent me this from Germany. “Alex’s family has a farm in King Township, just north of Toronto. Her passion is horses. She started riding almost before she could walk. When she wanted to make them her career, her mother made her a deal: if she took a university degree in something useful, something she could make a living at if necessary, her mother would finance her horse career when she graduated. They’re loaded, so money isn’t a problem. We used to spend weekends on the farm. I loved it. She taught me to ride and I caught the bug too. She has a fabulous horse that she bought in Germany. They’ve been over there with a top dressage trainer, training and competing. Her dream is to make the Olympic team next summer. Anyway, she writes that she’s appalled at what’s going on, and if she can do anything at all, just ask. And any financial support they can offer will be arranged whenever we need it. Isn’t she wonderful?”
“A good friend. Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”
It was only a couple of days later that Alicia heard from another old friend. This time it was more of a shock than a surprise.
The phone had rung shortly after lunch and Alicia had run to answer it. Minutes later, she returned to the dining room with a strange look on her face.
She avoided Chris’ eyes as she said, “You’ll never guess who that was. Andrew!”
“You mean your boyfriend from college, Andrew?” Her mother asked, shocked.
“One and the same.”
“What did he want?” There was a definite chill in Alice’s voice.
“He’s in town and he wants to meet me.” She still couldn’t look at Chris. “He read about us in the newspaper and says he wants to help if he can.”
“I can’t imagine that there is anything he could possibly do to help.” Alice’s tone was decidedly waspish but she didn’t care. She didn’t want Alicia to see him again. He had hurt her daughter in some way, hurt her so badly she had lost herself. Alicia never would say what had happened that last year. Her mother didn’t want him to have another chance. Besides, she liked Chris. She secretly hoped that one day he would be her son-in-law.
She glanced his way to see how he was reacting but his eyes were downcast and his face shuttered. Damn Andrew!
Damn Andrew pretty much summed up Chris’ feelings as well. It hadn’t escaped him that Alicia couldn’t look at him. He remembered her telling him how she had imagined that man’s showing up some day to tell her that he had been wrong, that he loved her and couldn’t live without her. Was this that day? And if it was, what would her answer be?
Damn Andrew! Damn him to Hell!
Chapter 36
Alicia had agreed to meet Andrew at the Tim Horton’s by the highway. Her heart was beating a mile a minute and her palms were sweaty as she drove to the doughnut shop. But not in anticipation, she realized. More like dread. And she knew why. Chris.
She hadn’t been able to look at him when she left. He knew what had happened that last spring. What would he be thinking? That she would run to Andrew’s arms, given the chance? Even she didn’t know the answer to that. Did she really still have feelings for the man or was it just the memory of those feelings? And what about her feelings for Chris? She had thought they were real. It was like a bloody soap opera, she thought. Tune in tomorrow for the continuing saga.
Damn Andrew!
She parked at Tim Horton’s and walked in the front door. He was sitting at a table by the window but stood up when he saw her come in. He looked just the same - tall and lanky, wearing blue jeans and an Irish knit sweater. As usual, his sandy hair was falling over his eyes and she remembered how she used to love to brush it back. His smile was the same too. No, he hadn’t changed. But she had. Suddenly the knot in her stomach was gone and she strode confidently to his table.
“Hi, Al,” he said and hugged her. “You look great.”
“So do you.”
They sat down. He’d ordered her a coffee - a large double double - just like he used to when they’d meet to study together at the Tim’s in Guelph.
“I couldn’t believe what I read in the paper about you and your family, and the cat. What a farce! How are you holding up?”
“It hasn’t been easy but we’re managing.” She couldn’t believe he’d driven all that way just to talk about the lawsuit.
“You know you can count on me if you need anything.” He reached for her hand. “I hope we’re still friends.”
She nodded but wondered if that were really true.
He seemed to be trying to say something else but was hesitating, as if unsure of her reaction.
“How are your parents?” she asked, trying to get past the awkward silence.
“They’re great. They send their love. You know they’ve always been very fond of you.”
She knew that. It was one of the reasons she had been so sure of Andrew. Not just because he had pursued her so relentlessly at first when she wasn’t that interested in him, but also because he had introduced her to his family so early on in their relationship.
“There was another reason that I wanted to see you, Al”
Well here it was at last, she thought.
“I felt I owed you an explanation of why I left the way I did. I started to call you a hundred times over the past two years, but each time I couldn’t bring myself to do it, and the more time passed, the harder it became.” When she didn’t say anything, he went on. “I was in love with a girl in high school. Her name is Julie. I wanted to marry her when I finished college but my parents wouldn’t hear of it. They threatened to disown me if I did.”
“Why? What was wrong with her?” she asked without stopping to consider her words.
“There’s nothing wrong with her,” he said huffily. “My parents didn’t want me to marry outside my culture, and Julie is a Chinese Canadian. I love my family and didn’t want to lose them, so I broke up with Julie and went away to college. I decided to make sure that my next girlfriend would be someone my parents would approve of. And
when I met you, I knew you were perfect.”
The impact of what he was saying started a slow burn in Alicia.
He went on, oblivious to the effect his story was having on her, determined to finally get everything out in the open. “I was right. They loved you. And for a while I thought I did too. But I was fooling myself. The closer we came to graduation, the worse I felt. I knew where we were heading and that you would be expecting me to start talking of our future together. But I couldn’t. I loved Julie. I decided that, no matter what, if she still loved me, we would get married. If my family objected, then it would be their loss. I went home after graduation to find Julie and thank God she still felt the same. We’ve been married for two years now and my parents have come to love her. We have a baby girl, Emily, that they adore and we’re all very happy.”
He gave a deep sigh as he finished and then looked up at Alicia as if expecting congratulations.
“You creep!” The other customers in the shop looked up in surprise as the words exploded from her. She went on regardless of their stares. “Chris said you were but I just couldn’t see it. You led me along for almost four years knowing you were in love with someone else, dumped me without warning or explanation, and now expect me to be happy for you that your racist family has decided to accept your wife and baby?”
“Look, Al, there’s no need to insult my parents. They always liked you.”
“Of course they liked me. I was the Stepford girlfriend. Made-to-order. Blond, white and stupid.” Her anger boiled over at the thought of the years she’d wasted loving this man who had been so willing to sacrifice her to his family’s bigotry. She wanted to throw something, or better still, hit him. Only the thought of the field day the press would have stopped her.
But even while she fumed, she knew that, in the end, it didn’t matter. She’d realized the moment she saw him that she had no feelings for him anymore. It was merely her sense of outrage at the injustice of what he’d done, and the years she had wasted pining for him, that made her want him to pay for his callous disregard of her feelings.
She stood to go. “Good-bye, Andrew,” she said with frosty dignity. “Thank you for finally doing the decent thing.” She emphasized the ‘finally’. “I hope you and Julie, and Emily and your parents, will all be very happy together.”
Yeah, right!
As she drove away, she realized that, as painful as it had been to hear, Andrew’s confession had freed her from the past once and for all. A bit like having a tooth pulled without freezing, but definitely better in the end. The last of the wall she’d built around herself crumbled. The past was just that - past - and she was heading for her future.
Chris’ car was parked outside his apartment when she got there. He opened the door at her knock. Her smile told him all he needed to know.
Chapter 37
They continued to search for Marmalade and occasionally caught tantalizing glimpses of a bundle of orange fur disappearing around the corner of a building or down some dark lane, but they never managed to get close enough for identification.
Chris’ family had been told of what was happening early on, as he didn’t want them hearing it on the news, and were going through their own kind of hell, but they managed frequent phone calls that were consistently reassuring and encouraging, no matter how worried they actually felt. They, too, offered financial support. He hoped it would never come to that.
“You know, Chris, if this weren’t so serious, it would be farcical.”
They were toasting marshmallows over a fire in the den. Alicia seemed determined to eat her way through the crisis.
“I feel like we’re in an old movie, you know, like ‘The Thin Man’ - Nick and Nora Charles - William Powell, Myrna Loy ...”
“And Asta. Don’t forget Asta,” he reminded her.
“Well-dressed, sophisticated sleuths. She was born to wealth and privilege. He was pretzels and beer - no, martinis.” Alicia laughed delightedly. “I remember watching those old movies on the late show and wishing I could be that witty and sophisticated. Nora was always beautifully dressed.” She sighed. “But their pet was safe at home, not the cause of all their troubles.”
“Yes, but don’t forget, he was married.”
“To Mrs. Asta. I remember.”
He jumped up and grabbed her hand. “Come on, Nora, we’ve sleuthing to do.”
“Yes, Nicky dear. Don’t forget your hat and trench coat. And you’d better start growing a mustache if you want anyone to take you seriously as a detective.”
* * *
November rolled around and they began to make Christmas plans. Chris wasn’t going home to his family as he usually did, but was invited to spend the holiday with the Dunbars. They were determined that no matter what happened, nothing would spoil the festivities.
It was to be a real country Christmas and many happy hours were spent making plans. It kept their minds off less pleasant matters and buoyed their spirits considerably. The preliminary court hearing was scheduled for the second last week in November.
The hours Alicia and Chris spent exploring the town, tramping the woods and wandering the shore made him realize how much he’d come to love the town and its way of life, and how much he’d miss it if he had to leave. Without him realizing, it had become home.
The unfairness of the situation, the cost in terms of his career and reputation and the happiness of the Dunbar family infuriated him, made him curse the day he’d allowed himself to become involved in that hare-brained trusteeship. But then he’d remember that if he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have met Alicia, and despite all that was happening and all that was in jeopardy, he couldn’t wish away anything that might wish her away.
The Thursday before the hearing Alicia and Chris spent beachcombing. The winds had been fierce the night before, whipping the waves to white-caps that pommeled the shore and clawed at the tree-line as if to capture the slender birch saplings and carry them back to sea. The wind had died to fitful bursts that snatched briefly at hats and scarves and then retreated to lie in wait awhile. The sand was wet and they had to dodge small pools and errant waves as they collected bits of driftwood to dry for the fire.
Alicia tucked cold fingers into his. She’d been unusually quiet all morning. “Chris?”
“Hmm ...” He dropped a light kiss on the soft crown of her hair and waited.
“What will you do if the case ... goes against us?”
It was a question he’d asked myself, or tried to avoid asking, at least a hundred times a day since Thanksgiving. She was watching him surreptitiously from beneath lowered lashes as she absently picked up a wide flat stone and skimmed it across the water. He watched it bounce three times and sink before answering.
“I suppose that will depend on whether they decide to charge me with breach of trust. If they do, and are successful, I face disbarment. That’s a possibility but it may not, probably won’t, come to that. They’d have to prove intent. It’s more likely that I’d be found negligent or derelict in my duties. I’d still be able to practice but ...” There was no need to add that there was little market for a negligent lawyer. “At any rate, I’d have to leave town. Perhaps try to start my own practice in another town when things had quieted down.”
“Oh, I see.” She skimmed another stone. This one hit with a splash and sank to the bottom. She began hunting for another skimmer, carefully avoiding his eyes as she scanned the ground.
God knows it certainly wasn’t the time to propose to a girl, with prospects that ranged from bleak to non-existent, and he was in no position to tell her that things would work out so long as they hung on to each other and fought like hell. Certainly it wasn’t reasonable to promise her that nothing would hurt them if only they stayed together. And he didn’t.
Maybe he should have.
Chapter 38
With so much at stake, Alicia found it increasingly difficult to do nothing.
She was between customers in the tiny bookstore where she worked m
ornings, Monday to Friday. In truth, the small shop barely supported one person but its owner, who had started the business when Diefenbaker was Prime Minister, had decided two years ago that life should be more than four walls lined with books. He had hired Alicia to open the store at ten o’clock - nine during tourist season - and work until one o’clock. He looked after things until five. Saturday he opened at ten and closed at four. Sundays he didn’t open at all. The schedule suited both of them. The store was rarely busy and today was no exception. She had plenty of time to consider their next move.
They’d searched the whole town, time and time again, offered a reward for information, put up posters and run ads in the local paper, but it wasn’t enough. And it wasn’t just her own and her family’s futures she was concerned about. She truly loved Marmalade, and the thought of him alone and cold, hungry, maybe hurt, kept her up night after night.
Why didn’t he come home? She didn’t believe he would willingly stay away this long. The only logical conclusion was that someone must have taken him, but if it had been someone just looking to make a quick buck, he’d have been returned for the reward or they would have had a ransom letter. It had to be someone with more to gain. They’d wasted enough time assuming he’d run away. She was tired of feeling helpless and at the mercy of others. It was time to take action, to take their fate in their own hands. If only she knew what that action should be.
“I know we didn’t do anything to Marmalade,” she said aloud. “That’s the advantage I have over the police. I don’t have to consider us. So if we assume he didn’t run away, who would want something to have happened to him?” When she thought about it that way, the answer seemed obvious.
There was one way to find out. She picked up the phone and dialed.