by Lesley Crewe
Elsie smiled. “We do, don’t we?”
“I could smack you,” she sighed. “When am I ever going to find anyone?”
“Oh, you’ll meet your sailor someday.”
Elsie went out onto the deck. Robert and Mrs. Minelli said their goodnights and headed out across the garden with Faith, through the ugliest gateway in the neighbourhood.
The girls turned to their parents. “Do you mind if we go over next door? Mrs. Minelli’s making fudge.”
Graham quickly said, “No. We don’t mind. Just save some for us.”
When they too ducked their heads through the jagged fence, Graham mused, “That thing’s got to come down.”
“It does, doesn’t it.”
They looked at each other. Graham gathered her in his arms and they stood there, almost awkwardly. Then he pulled her closer and she leaned her cheek against his chest. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “You were wonderful in there today. I was so proud of you.”
“Thank you. My sisters just told me that too, not five minutes ago. You could have knocked me over with a feather.” Then she laughed. “Of course, it’s tempered by the fact that it took a gun to their heads to make them say it.”
He laughed too. “Well, they did. That’s the important thing.”
“When I think of what could’ve happened today, my knees get weak,” Elsie confessed. She squeezed him tighter. “Everyone I love was in that room. My whole family. It makes you realize how precious we are to each other and how quickly we can be gone.”
“Today wasn’t the first day you’ve helped save this family. You do it every day of your life and I’ve taken that for granted or ridiculed it. No more. Never again.”
“Oh Graham, please forgive me for being so stupid. I’ve always made you think you could’ve done more with your life, if only you’d tried a little harder. I had no right to do that. You’re a wonderful man, just as you are. Aunt Hildy loved a penniless sailor. It wasn’t about what he was, it was about who he was.”
“Did you know your father offered me money to get out of your life?”
She drew away from him and gasped, “No!”
He nodded. “I told him to kiss my ass. Now that I have daughters of my own, I can understand why he hated me so much after that.”
She shook her head. “God. You never told me.”
Graham looked at her. “I never told you because I loved you.
You know what Faith said about Aunt Hildy wanting to be with Nikolai? Think about it. He’s been gone for more than seventy years and she still loved him.” He put his hand up and rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “That’s what I feel for you. I know that even if something happened to one of us, we’d still be together. I’ve loved you my whole life. And I’ll love you for the rest of my life Elsie, however long or short that may be.”
She reached up and gave him a soft, sweet kiss. “And I’ll love you right back.”
Graham smiled at her and quickly glanced over at the Beech Street house. “How long do you think they’ll be over there?”
Elsie laughed. “Just long enough, if we hurry.”
He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go then.” They made a dash for the back door.
Later that evening, Faith was in bed and the kids were downstairs in the kitchen playing 45’s. While Graham took a shower, Elsie wrapped her sorry old bathrobe around herself and snuck into Lily’s room. She wasn’t sure why she felt compelled to go through Aunt Hildy’s passageway, but decided to trust her instinct. She took a small flashlight, and pushed Lily’s clothes to one side. It amazed her that she never noticed the small doorway cleverly hidden behind three shelves, shelves that looked like they were nailed to the wall, but that were really just hinged, so they could be moved aside easily.
She opened the doorway and shone the flashlight down the wooden steps. They were old and worn and creaked as she crept down them. The passageway was narrow and the steps circled around once, twice, three times. Her flashlight picked up dusty cobwebs among the wooden beams. A big old spider hurried away, out of sight. As she followed the path of the spider, her eyes fell upon a dust-covered metal box shoved deep into the rafter. A metal box with a lock.
And I have the key, she thought.
A shiver ran up Elsie’s spine. “Did you want me to find this, Aunt Hildy?”
Elsie pushed the cobwebs away and reached as far as she could, just managing to grab the small metal handle at the top of the box. She dragged it out, disturbing a few more spiders along the way, and quickly tucked it under her arm. Instead of continuing down to the library, she re-traced her steps and went back through the closet, tip-toeing to her bedroom. Closing the door, she placed the box on the side table by the old armchair and went to the closet. She reached for Aunt Hildy’s carpet bag and brought it over to the chair. Opening the bag, she pushed her finger into the pocket as before and slid the key out.
Elsie’s heart was racing. What was it that Aunt Hildy had hidden away and yet kept so close to her in the form of this key?
Fingers shaking, she put the key in the lock. She turned it one way, then the other, hearing the small click. The lid popped.
There were the letters from Nikolai tied up with a ribbon. This was his handwriting. Suddenly he was a real flesh and blood person. A boy whose life was ended before it even began. She couldn’t bear to open them, so she placed them to one side. Underneath were a few black and white photos of them together. They were leaning on a fence, looking out over the water. They looked so young and in love. Were they planning their future that day?
And then Elsie saw the thin gold band. She lifted it out of the box. It was so delicate, probably all the young sailor could afford.
Elsie’s eyes filled with tears. Her heart broke for the young girl who longed to wear this ring so many years ago.
When Graham opened the bedroom door, she was startled. He took one look at her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’ve found Aunt Hildy’s treasure.”
“What do you mean?” He walked across the room in his robe and sat on the bed.
“Nikolai’s letters, and photos of them together. And look, here’s the wedding band.” She held it up for him to see.
Graham shook his head. “What a waste.”
Elsie nodded.
“What else is in there?”
She lifted out what looked like official documents. They were wrapped together with string. A letter was on top. Elsie opened it and started to read. Her eyes got big.
“It’s from my grandfather to Hildy.”
“What does it say?”
“Dearest Hildy, I can never repay the damage I’ve done to you. Certainly not in my lifetime. I worry about you alone in the world and know that I am the reason you are alone. These stocks are for you, so you will never have to worry about supporting yourself in your dotage. I realize that at your tender age, you cannot imagine yourself as old, but believe me, the day will come. Promise me you will use this income and, if you can, please find happiness again. Father.”
Graham and Elsie stared at each other.
“He must have given this to her on his death bed,” Elsie said.
“And she never used them.”
Elsie gave him a half-smile. “Well, she wouldn’t, would she?
Graham shook his head. “No. She certainly wouldn’t.”
Elsie untied the string and unfolded the documents, leafing through them. “Ford Motor Company, Canadian National Railway, Bell and Howell, Kodak. These must be worth a fortune.”
Graham gave a low whistle. “Imagine that. What are we going to do with them?”
Elsie sat back in the chair. “Oh god, I don’t know. It’s all too much.” She covered her eyes, trying to think.
“As you pointed out, money can make even the best families go crazy. We have more than enough for all of us from the sale of the jewellery. We don’t need this.”
Elsie looked up. “Even if we did, I could never spend it. It’s blood mo
ney, Graham. To appease the guilt of an old man. Maybe I should just put it back where I found it and let the past lie.”
“Or you could use it for something good. Like a scholarship fund perhaps.”
Elsie sat up. “You’re right! That’s just what we should do. Scholarship funds for Maritime girls who want to go to university but can’t afford it. Or wait! What about using some of it to set up trust funds for women’s shelters? I think Aunt Hildy would support something like that. Helping other women who’ve suffered.”
“Sounds like a plan. And you certainly have the connections to see that it gets to the right people.”
“Oh, this is so exciting! Wait till I tell the kids. Juliet and Faith may sulk for a bit, but I think they’ll come around in the end.” Elsie put everything back in the box and locked it. Then she sat back with a big smile on her face.
Graham laughed. “It’s so good to see you happy again.”
“I am happy. I’m happy that you’re back in this messy bedroom where you belong.”
He pointed at her. “Have you got anything on under that?”
She gave him a big smirk and rose from the chair. “Why, no I don’t Mr. Brooks.” She slowly untied her robe and let it fall to the floor.
He reached out and grabbed her hand. “Get over here.”
They fell back on the bed in each other’s arms. Graham kissed her nose. “First thing tomorrow I’m taking you to the mall and we’re buying you a new bathrobe.”
“You’re so romantic.” Elsie laughed. She ran her fingers through his hair. “I love you.”
“My sweet Elsie.”
He kissed her then, the way he’d always kissed her. Totally, completely and with great skill.
Reader’s Guide
The relationship between the sisters in Shoot Me is ongoing and mercurial, but their bond is a strong one. How are Juliet, Faith, and Elsie different? What are their similarities? Which sister is most like Aunt Hildy?
When the novel opens, Elsie and Graham Brooks’ marriage is on the rocks. They come up with a unique way of handling the situation by having Graham live in the basement instead of leaving the house altogether. What does this arrangement signify? Is it a good decision?
Elsie Brooks is a chronic do-gooder. Her family certainly benefits from this desire to please, but they suffer because of it, too. How is Elsie’s personality contributing to or hindering her life?
Faith is a woman who suffers from depression. She has no home of her own, no social circle, and no job. She dreams of becoming a novelist, but relies on Elsie to give her a roof over her head. Is Elsie’s support helpful? What is the difference between helping and enabling someone? Will Faith ever write a book?
Juliet and Robert have a love/hate relationship. Their bickering masks underlying resentment. What are the causes of that resentment and do you think Juliet and Robert really love each other?
Aunt Hildy’s treasure is at the centre of this story. She drives her family crazy with tantalizing clues about this so-called treasure and yet won’t offer an explanation. At times she even denies its existence. Was it poor judgment on Aunt Hildy’s part to involve her family members, or did they have a right to know about this dark secret? Can you think of other novels where family secrets play such a pivotal role?
Slater and Eli become members of the family by virtue of being the boyfriends of Elsie’s daughters. They are vastly different in some respects. What do they have in common?
Throughout the novel, the characters are faced with decisions that could alter the lives of the rest of their family members. Knowing Juliet’s personality, do you think she would have told the others if she’d managed to find the treasure first?
Finding Aunt Hildy’s treasure is about more than just looking for loot. It involves the interpersonal relationships between family members, and their reactions to this bizarre quest will shape the rest of their lives. What are the lessons learned from this treasure hunting?
An Interview with Lesley Crewe
Shoot Me, your second book, is so different from Relative Happiness, your first. How did Shoot Me come to you? Did it start with one specific scene, or a character, or did the plot present itself?
A friend suggested I write a murder mystery. Well, I’m no P. D. James, but I thought I’d have a crack at it and Shoot Me is what I came up with. Aunt Hildy was the character I started with. She’s based on an elderly woman who made a lifelong impression on me. She was the Brown Owl at a Girl Guide camp I attended with my mom when I was six (Mom was a counsellor). We went down to the lake at sunrise and Brown Owl was swimming in the calm water. She looked like an otter, and when she climbed up the ladder to the wharf, she was naked. She was absolutely at peace with herself and her surroundings, like she was one with the landscape. Even at such a young age, I knew I wanted to be that woman.
Is that writing process typical for you?
Yes. I take an image or an event that has somehow stayed with me and use it as a jumping-off point for a story. It could be a person or a house or a tree or something that stands out in my memory. It’s not a story; it’s usually just a fragment or picture in my mind.
Lesley Crewe fans all have a favourite book of yours. What do you think having Shoot Me as a favourite book says about those readers?
They can all relate to the craziness that goes on within families! We all have messy relationships and botched hopes and dreams, and yet it’s usually our families who end up saving us in the end. Who else would put up with us?
This is a funny novel with some serious themes and issues.In your own life, do you tend to manage sadness with humour?
No. When I’m sad, I’m sad. But like everything else, wait five minutes and something ridiculous will happen that makes you laugh in spite of yourself. I’ve had a lot of sadness in my life, but I’ve also laughed a lot, and that tendency has saved me over and over again. It’s very natural for me to weave humour and sorrow into a story. Life is not a flat line.
Do you have any favourite humour writers?
Roald Dahl is my favourite writer, and no one does humour better. He’s brilliant. I grew up reading Erma Bombeck, and I love Elaine May and Nora Ephron.
Your main characters almost always have sisters—for better or for worse. What’s your experience with sisterhood, and how has it affected your writing?
My younger sister Nancy has always been my best friend. A sibling is like having a reference library of your life at your finger- tips. All you have to do is say, “Remember when…” and the two of you kill yourselves over silly things that happened decades ago…stuff that no one else in the world would know or care about. When I’m with my sister, I’m with my entire family, even though our parents are gone now. She remembers, and because she remembers, I’m not alone in the world.
I write what I know. I never had a brother, so it’s simply a matter of comfort to be able to write about sisters. I know sisters.
The characters in this book are deeply flawed, in many different ways. But a lot of them are still very appealing.Which character do you most relate to in this novel? Is there any character you dislike?
I’m very much like Elsie. Actually, that’s how Elsie got her name. I couldn’t think of a name for her at the beginning so I wrote L.C. for the first couple of pages, and that got tedious, so I changed it to Elsie. Elsie and I share a deadly flaw, and that is that we can’t say no to anyone. She tries to be all things to all people and spreads herself too thin. I think a lot of women do that in their everyday lives. We try to “fix” everything and end up wanting to shoot ourselves just to have some peace and quiet.
Juliet is pretty hard to like. She’s a real pain. We all know at least one Juliet!
The shooting of Hildy is shocking to readers. Did you know from the start that she’d be shot?
Yes. I knew she was going to go out in a blaze of glory. Nothing else would have been sufficient for the old gal. Hildy would be the last person who would want to end up languishing in a nursing h
ome. She died with her boots on, God love her.
At first everyone’s under suspicion for the shooting. Did you ever consider anyone else shooting Hildy—were any of the other characters capable of it?
No. The family was full of misfits, but they weren’t murderers. Juliet and Robert might have been selfish enough to consider it, but I doubt they’d go through with it. Juliet might muss up her hair.
Finally, let’s talk about the book’s setting. The big rambling house in Shoot Me is essentially a character of its own. What did you model it after?
When I attended Dalhousie University, I lived in residence at Sheriff Hall, in the South End of Halifax. I used to love to walk in the neighbourhood and look at all the beautiful old houses and wonder what was going on behind those windows and doors. I decided I’d write a story about one of them, since I’d love to live in a house like that, but I can’t afford it! So I “borrowed” a house for a few months and lived in it while I wrote.
Lesley Crewe was born and raised in Montreal, but spent summers “banging a screen door at a bungalow in Cape Breton.” It was in Cape Breton that she met her future husband—who also lived in Montreal.
Lesley became a columnist and features writer with The Cape Bretoner magazine, but didn’t recognize herself as a writer until the day she got into a shouting match with one of her characters on the way to Wal-Mart. Lesley’s extremely popular first novel, Relative Happiness, published by Vagrant Press in 2005, was shortlisted for the Margaret and John Savage First Book Award.
Lesley and her family live in Homeville, Cape Breton. Visit her on the internet at www.lesleycrewe.com.