Comes The Dawn (The Wonderland Series: Book 5)

by Irina Shapiro

  The thought of Carol finding out about his indiscretion made him break out in a cold sweat, but he realized on the drive home that what he feared wasn’t the loss of Carol, but the impact a divorce would have on his children. He wanted to be there for Lucy, and he wanted nothing more than to be a good father to his son. If he left Carol, or if Carol chucked him out, he’d never get a chance to be the kind of parent he wanted to be. No judge would give him joint custody when faced with proof of adultery. And did he even wish for a divorce?

  He certainly didn’t want to marry Jess. Jess was a bit of fun. A symptom of his mid-life crisis. She was young and idealistic, and required more enthusiasm and energy than he could muster on a regular basis. There was no way he could keep up with her lifestyle. She was always on the go, getting together with friends, clubbing in London, hiking in Scotland, and going to music festivals in Ireland. He couldn’t pin her down if he tried. She was enjoying their trysts now, maybe because they were clandestine and forbidden, but how would she feel about him in a few months when the baby was born, and Bobby rushed home to change nappies and read stories to Lucy, instead of telling Carol that he was working late and going to Jess’s place instead?

  Perhaps the cost of this weekend was turning out to be too high. For the first time in fifteen years, Bobby was questioning the very fabric of his life, and he wasn’t ready to deal with the answers. Carol was due in two months. This wasn’t the time to even contemplate leaving her. She was his wife, for better or worse, the mother of his children. Most couples grew bored and restless after years of marriage, but if they stuck it out, it was well worth it. They had a loving companion in their twilight years. What would he have if he left Carol?

  After a few years, he would become one of those ridiculous middle-aged men who were always trying to pick up younger women and made fools of themselves more often than not. Sure, it was exciting to have sex with new partners, but only when one had a loving family to come home to. What would it be like to live alone after all these years? Bobby wondered. He couldn’t begin to imagine. He’d actually never lived alone. He lived with his widowed mother until he married Carol, and then they moved just down the street from his mum. She doted on Lucy and couldn’t wait for the new baby to be born. His mother would cut his bollocks off if she ever found out he’d been unfaithful to Carol, and she would be right. Besides, he probably wouldn’t even be able to afford a flat. He’d have to move right back in with his mother since most of his salary would go to pay alimony and child support for two children. Carol would get to keep the house and the car, and he would have to start over with nothing more than a suitcase full of clothes and a few books and CDs.

  I have to break it off with Jess before my life implodes, Bobby thought miserably. The risk just isn’t worth it. Bobby went up to the bar and ordered another pint. Perhaps he was in a foul mood because he was agitated by the upcoming meeting. Everly — he couldn’t bring himself to refer to that man as Max — had called and asked to meet, his reasons unclear. Bobby had been a copper too long to believe that he was about to confess to anything. If he wanted to meet, it was for an entirely different reason. Bobby glanced anxiously at his watch. Everly was late. What if he didn’t show up at all? He’d be angry at being stood up, but not knowing what Everly wanted would eat away at him. He’d wait another quarter of an hour at least, then leave.

  Bobby watched with some relief as Everly finally entered the pub, ordered himself a pint, and brought it over to the snug. He slid in, nodded to Bobby in greeting, and took a sip of his beer as if this was nothing more than a friendly drink between friends. It annoyed Bobby to no end to see that Everly was wearing Max’s shirt. He’d seen Max wear that shirt several times; it had been a favorite.

  “You’re late,” Bobby pointed out.

  “I apologize. Couldn’t be helped, I’m afraid.” Everly looked completely unruffled, as if he met with police inspectors all the time. If the man was an imposter, and he was, how could he remain so cool when faced with exposure? Bobby wondered as he watched the man drink his beer.

  “What do you want, Everly?” Bobby finally asked, unable to stand the tension any longer.

  “How was Scotland? Was the heather in bloom?” Everly asked. “It’s quite beautiful, don’t you think? It’s like a purple quilt covering the ground. Reminds me of lavender fields in France.” Everly’s tone was conversational, but Bobby could almost feel the underlying menace. He felt a traitorous clenching of his stomach muscles. How did the bastard know he’d been to Scotland? He told Carol that he was going to a police conference in Liverpool; something he couldn’t get out of. He’d been to conferences enough times over the past few years for Carol to take his absence in her stride. She knew there were certain obligations which couldn’t be avoided, especially once Bobby made Detective Inspector.

  “I was in Liverpool,” Bobby replied neutrally. “For a conference. Miss me?” he could hear the acid in his voice, but couldn’t keep his personal feelings out of the conversation. He hated this man.

  “Hmm,” Everly replied noncommittally as he set down his pint.

  “Why did you ask to meet?” Bobby asked. He hated that Everly was controlling this meeting. It was time to turn the tables on him. “I’m onto you, you know. Once the case is reopened, I will leave no stone unturned to find out who you are and what happened to Max. So, don’t get too comfortable.”

  “Perhaps you shouldn’t get too comfortable either,” Everly replied as he pulled his mobile out of his pocket. He turned it on, found what he was looking for, then slid the phone across the table toward Bobby. Bobby stared at the little screen. There was a picture of him and Jess, sprawled on a tartan blanket on a riverbank, their picnic forgotten. Bobby was lying on his back as Jess straddled him, her bare breasts in his face, and his hands grabbing her hips for deeper penetration. He stared at the picture for a few seconds, shocked.

  “You followed me?” he hissed as his eyes finally met Everly’s dark ones.

  “No. That’s not my style.”

  “So, who did?” Bobby suddenly remembered the young man in the shop. He’d overheard the entire conversation between himself and Mrs. McLeod, and had followed him out into the street where he met up with Jess. Bobby had taken him for a tourist, the expensive camera around his neck a dead giveaway of someone who wasn’t local. Bobby hadn’t noticed anyone following them to the river, nor had he felt anyone’s presence while he poked around the locked-up cottage and selected a spot for the picnic. And he wouldn’t have noticed if aliens landed their mother ship right across the river once Jess got a hold of him. The young man must have chosen his hiding place well, and that zoom lens sure came in handy.

  “There are a few more,” Everly said casually as he took back the phone and replaced it in his pocket.

  “What do you want?” Bobby Knowles said, his voice hoarse. If Carol saw this picture, his marriage would be over, as well as his career. The Super had warned him about Jess, and if this evidence somehow made it to her desk, he’d be finished. He wouldn’t do too well in the custody department either. Cheating on his heavily pregnant wife wouldn’t win him any points with the judge. The things he’d been speculating about only a few minutes ago were now a cold, hard reality.

  “I want you to back off. I won’t send these pictures to anyone. I have no desire to ruin your life, Bobby, but I will use them if necessary.”

  “You fucking bastard,” Bobby spat out. Everly had him over a barrel, and they both knew it.

  “We all have our secrets, Bobby.”

  “Just answer one question, will you? Did you kill Max?” He didn’t expect an honest answer, but he needed to see the man’s face as he answered. That would tell him much of what he needed to know. He was surprised to see a look of anguish in Everly’s eyes. Was that guilt? Remorse?

  “No, I didn’t kill him, but he is dead. I never meant him any harm, Bobby.”

  “Who are you?” Bobby demanded, desperate for answers. The man just admitted to not
being Max Everly, but how could he bear such an uncanny resemblance to his friend? The only person he’d ever seen who even remotely resembled Max was that ancestor of his whose portrait hung in Everly Manor. Max often saluted him as he went past.

  “That’s two questions.” Everly finished his pint and slid out of the snug. He smiled at Bobby, his expression now insolent rather than contrite. “See you round, Inspector.”

  Bobby watched as Everly left the pub. He normally allowed himself only two pints, but he sauntered over to the bar and asked for another one. He needed it and had no desire to go home just yet. For all her preoccupation with Lucy and the coming baby, Carol had an uncanny sense when it came to his moods. She’d know something was wrong as soon as he walked through the door. He needed to calm down and organize his thoughts.

  Whoever this man was, he was no fool, and he’d preempted Bobby’s investigation by initiating one of his own. And he’d fallen right into the trap. How easy did he make it for Everly to catch him out? Now, here he was, prick in hand, completely at the man’s mercy. All he had to do was forward those pictures to his wife or to Superintendent Cummings, and Bobby’s life was finished. For good.

  Bobby took a deep pull of beer and closed his eyes. He’d been outmaneuvered, masterfully so. If he breathed another word about this case, Everly would use the photos. His every instinct told him not to provoke the man. He had a certain kind of old-fashioned nobility about him, but he’d strike if pushed. He’d made that clear enough, and Bobby had no desire to test his resolve. The man admitted outright that he wasn’t Max Everly, but any further action on Bobby’s part would open a can of worms which would take him down as surely as it would take down Everly, or whoever he was. Bobby finished his beer and got to his feet. It was time to go home to Carol and Lucy. Tomorrow he would finish things with Jess.

  Case closed.

  Chapter 45

  I stood before the manor house, thrilled to be back home at last, but my eyes strayed from the impressive façade of Everly Manor and slid to the old manor house which was now a museum. A busload of tourists had just arrived, and everyone was chatting excitedly about the house and gardens they were about to see. A part of me felt a pang of resentment as I imagined these people trampling through what was once our home, taking pictures, and commenting on the furniture and costumes displayed on the first floor. I still felt possessive of the place. It hadn’t been used as a full-time home since the end of the eighteenth century, but it had been my home only a few weeks ago.

  Hugo took our bags out of Simon’s car and carried them into the house, but Valentine made a beeline for the house as soon as she saw it, calling for Archie and Frances. She stopped before I could catch her, suddenly aware of the large group of people and the modern-day tour guide who came out to greet them ready to begin the tour. Valentine instinctively understood that Frances and Archie weren’t there, and her eyes filled with tears as she looked to me for an explanation. How could I explain to a three-year-old child that a house that had been her home only last month was now a museum, a relic of another time, and that Frances and Archie had died hundreds of years ago? Or that her father was to be called Max from now on and not Hugo.

  I hoped and prayed that someday Valentine would forget the past and believe that it had been nothing more than a dream, but it would take some time. At the moment, she was full of questions, and I had to consider carefully before answering them because each answer led to another question, and by the end of the conversation, Valentine usually managed to back me into a corner. Michael was much easier to divert. At only one and a half, he wasn’t nearly as inquisitive and took everything he saw in stride. He was so excited about his new toys and the television shows I allowed him to watch that all thoughts of the past fled from his mind. I did catch him looking around sometimes, as if he were searching for someone, and I knew he was looking for Frances. He’d loved her, and she had showered him with the love and attention she would have shown her own son had he lived.

  “Mama, why are those people going into our house?” Valentine asked tearfully. “Where is Archie?” She ran back to me and wrapped her arms around my legs, her face pressed into my thigh. I tried to comfort her as best I could, but Michael was in my arms and was beginning to cry as well. He always picked up on his sister’s moods and often began to cry just to feel a part of things. I set Michael down and hugged both children at once as their wails grew louder.

  “Valentine, Michael, come and see what I have inside. I think you’re going to like it.” Simon looked as mischievous as a little boy as he skipped down the front steps. The children were instantly distracted from their misery, their tear-stained faces raised to gaze at Simon.

  “What?” Valentine asked.

  “I’m not telling. You have to come and see for yourself. It’s a surprise. Unless, of course, you want to stand out here and cry. You’re right, that’s much more fun,” Simon teased.

  “I don’t want to cry,” Valentine protested. “I want my surprise.”

  “Well, come on then.” Simon scooped up Michael and took Valentine by the hand to help her up the steps. “Take as long as you need,” he called to me over his shoulder. I had no idea what Simon had planned, especially since he’d just brought us from London and had only been inside the house for a few minutes, but I’d learned not to underestimate his resourcefulness, or his affection for the children. I couldn’t help thinking that my children were very lucky to have people who cared for them not only in the seventeenth century, but in this one as well. I had been a lonely little girl with an absentee father and a mother who drank herself to death. Seeing my children surrounded by so much affection gladdened my heart.

  I stole one more peek at the old house, melancholy stabbing at my heart as I thought of Archie and Frances. There were moments when I longed to go online and see if I could find any information about them, but something stopped me. I suppose I was afraid that I would either find nothing at all, which was likely since they were just common people and had no reason to be mentioned in any historical account unless something dreadful happened to them, or something which would break my heart. I wanted to remember them as they were, young and beautiful… and in love. Once the children and I settled into life at Everly Manor, I would go to the cemetery and search for their graves. Perhaps I would even find graves of their children and have physical confirmation that their life went on long after we left. I needed to know that they’d been happy.

  I finally turned away from the horde of tourists and walked into the new manor. The children were already occupied, playing a video game with Simon. They were hooting with laughter and jumping up and down as they followed the instructions on the screen. Simon jumped with them, being deliberately clumsy and falling from time to time just to make the children laugh.

  “Papa, come play,” Valentine called out when she saw Hugo. “Simon is being silly,” she added.

  “I can be silly, too,” Hugo replied as he joined in. I watched from the doorway for a moment, smiling with contentment. It amazed me sometimes how many different emotions a person could experience in a short time. From the time we left London, I had gone from anticipation to apprehension to dismay to gratitude to melancholy and then to utter contentment. Only a month ago I had lived in terror of losing Hugo and being condemned for witchcraft, and now I was back in the future, watching my husband jump around with the kids as if he didn’t have a care in the world. I smiled at Simon, who collapsed on the sofa in mock exhaustion. None of this would have been possible without him.

  I left the parlor and headed for the kitchen to say hello to Mrs. Harding, who was busy preparing lunch. She nodded in greeting and went back to her task.

  “If you’d like a cup of tea, help yourself,” she said. “I’ve got flour on my hands. Come to think of it, I wouldn’t say no to a cup myself.”

  I filled the kettle, put it on the hob and took out two cups. I had to admit that I actually enjoyed performing domestic tasks. After years of having serv
ants and spending hours of my day just being idle, it felt good to feel needed, even if it was just to make a cup of tea or cook for my children. Mrs. Harding put two pies in the oven, washed her hands, and took a seat at the table.

  “Steak and kidney pies,” she announced. “Hugo likes my pies,” she added proudly. “There’re a couple of biscuits in the tin.”

  I arranged a few biscuits on a plate and set them between us as I handed Stella Harding her tea. It was at least an hour until lunch, and she was fond of her elevenses. Stella dunked a biscuit in her tea and took a bite.

  “So what now?” she asked. “Have you worked out a plan of some sort? Simon has been awfully tight-lipped these past few weeks. He’s carrying on like an undercover agent,” Mrs. Harding added with a chuckle. “I am glad to see him taking an interest, though. He hadn’t been himself since that sorry business with Heather. He seems to be coming out of his depression.”

  “I’m glad. He’s been such an incredible help. The children love him.”

  “Oh, he loves them too. I think he’s come to realize that having children is not all burden and responsibility. He’s coming round to the idea.” Stella smiled wistfully. “I do long for a grandchild. I loved it when Simon was little. He was such a joy. Simon doesn’t believe it, but I’ll spoil his kids something rotten. In the meantime, I can enjoy those two,” she said glancing in the direction of the parlor. “I hope you won’t mind me playing granny since they don’t have grandparents on either side.”