Purling Road - the Complete Second Season: Episodes 1-10

by M. L. Gardner

  Jonathan smiled and held out an arm. “This way, gentlemen.” He started to lead the way and Isaac and Frank walked alongside him. At least half the guests today wouldn’t drive him batty.

  He introduced the young men to Aryl, who took over explaining about the boat, where they would be going, and seeing the need for a thrill in the eyes of Edmond, threw out some instructions of what to do if the boat were to encounter rough seas or began to take on water. That seemed to excite all the men. Jonathan went into the wheelhouse, thankful his job was mainly to take them out and bring them in safely. Aryl was the one who was more suited to deal with people directly. He poured a mug of coffee from his thermos and referenced his chart. He and Aryl had narrowed it down to two areas to take the men today but had yet to actually choose one.

  He debated this while sipping his coffee and staring out at the water. After pulling himself from a daydream, he went out to consult with Aryl on a location.

  He was busy seeing to the guests, and Jonathan waited by the railing. He listened to Edmond talk and listened even closer to Reginald. Not to their words, but the way they spoke. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head.

  After the men were settled at separate tables, Aryl went to him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong. I’m trying to place their accent.”

  Aryl looked back at the men.

  “It’s not French… It’s not quite English…” Jonathan tapped the rail.

  Aryl laughed. “You honestly don’t know?”

  “No. Do you?”

  “Yes. And I can’t believe you don’t recognize it.”

  “Well, what is it then?” Jonathan asked.

  “Listen closely.”

  Jonathan inclined his head as the man went on for a few moments to his friend. He looked at Aryl, still confused.

  “It’s the accent of money,” Aryl said, slapping Jonathan’s chest with the back of his hand.

  Jonathan’s eyes widened. “Did we sound like that?”

  “God, I hope not.” After a short laugh, he went to see that the guests were comfortable before they got underway.

  ***

  Arianna floated down the stairs in a black tiered dress, low cut with no sleeves. She wore pearls around her neck and a red lace headband. The edges of her hair curled up and out like wings. Her makeup was dramatic. So dramatic that Savrene and Samuel, just sitting down to dinner, jumped when they saw her. Caleb did a double take. They hadn’t said much to each other in the last few days. After Arianna had dropped the bombshell that she’d thought of leaving if a solution wasn’t found for Ethel, Caleb had been cold and distant. He wanted to ask her if she had been serious but was afraid of the answer. After all, she’d taken off on him before in a moment of crisis.

  Arianna had also been cold and distant. With all she’d told him about the hardships of dealing with Ethel, it took David to get him to reluctantly agree to move Ethel out of the house.

  “I thought you girls were just going down to the beach or something,” he said. He turned from the stove, wiping his hands. Felicity began to fuss, and Caleb ducked into the living room to scoop her up before she could wake Ethel, who’d nodded off on the sofa.

  “I’m not sure exactly where we’re going,” Arianna said carefully as she plucked at a string on her small handbag. It was true. She knew the general whereabouts of the house turned illegal nightclub but didn’t know the exact address.

  Bouncing Felicity on his shoulder, he eyed Arianna again. “I just didn’t expect you to go out looking so…” He tossed his hand up and down in her direction. “I mean, you’re just hanging out with the girls. Why the getup?”

  Arianna narrowed her eyes. “Just hanging out with the girls? So, I should step out looking like a hag?” she asked.

  “What a hag, Daddy?” Savrene asked, looking up from her dinner. Caleb looked at her and then back to Arianna.

  “No, I don’t expect you to look like a hag. But dressed like that…”

  “Dressed like what?” She glared at him, tapping her foot. Like the old days…the rich years…when I felt alive and happy and excited for life? Her eyes begged the question.

  “People might get the wrong idea.” Men. Men might get the wrong idea is what he wanted to say.

  “I’m not sure how you’ve forgotten, Caleb. I don’t give a damn what people think.” She turned on her heel and walked out the door without looking back.

  ***

  Arianna waited in the living room for Ava to come downstairs. Jonathan approached her gently, as one would approach a wild animal. She had that look tonight.

  “How’s Caleb?” he asked. “I’ve been so busy I haven’t been over to see him.”

  “Caleb’s fine, I suppose. Extremely put out that I don’t want to live in Circe de la hell anymore.” She folded her arms. Her fingers itched for a cigarette.

  “Oh, I’m… sorry.” What does one say to someone who looked very close to their breaking point while revealing troubles on the home front?

  “David helped me convince him to build a small house on the other side of the barn. We’re going to move her there,” she said flatly, her eyes wandering around Ava’s clean house. Arianna was envious. Her house was no pigsty, but she found it difficult to keep after it properly under the circumstances.

  “Oh, maybe Aryl and I can help with that?” Jonathan offered. He sat down, hoping she would, too. She looked like a cat ready to pounce. Instead, she started pacing.

  Ava hurried downstairs, her low heels clicking on each step. She smiled, somewhat shy when Jonathan saw her. She never had an occasion to get dressed up like this anymore, and the sight in the mirror took her by surprise. It apparently had the same effect on him.

  Jonathan wasn’t entirely comfortable with Ava heading out into the night in a white dress that accentuated her hips, even if it was sleeved and high cut. He could see it was fun for her to get dolled up and knew she needed to take the time for herself and be with her friends. He restrained the protective husband in him that wanted to throw a large wool coat around her shoulders and tie the waistband tight. Yes, men would look at her. That didn’t mean she’d look back. Men might even try to talk to her and that sent Jonathan’s blood pressure too high to think about it. He’d just leave it at they might look.

  “Where are you girls going tonight?” he asked.

  “Why must men be so concerned about the details?” Arianna asked with a little too much enthusiasm for a sane person. “We are three beautiful ladies, desperate for some time away. We’ll go wherever the night takes us.”

  “Well, if you go to Boston to see a show, be careful. Don’t pick up anyone needing a lift along the way.”

  “We won’t,” Ava said, kissed him and they were off.

  Claire was waiting not only outside, but by the road. Arianna hardly had to stop Caleb’s truck and she was pushing Ava to the center and slamming the door.

  “And to think you weren’t keen on this idea at first,” Arianna said with a smirk as she started driving.

  “Well, I’m keen on it now. I just hope Aryl will be all right with Jac tonight.”

  Arianna let the truck swerve into the other lane as she struck a match and lit a cigarette. “He’ll figure it out,” she said and held the case out to them.

  “You’re right,” Claire said, plucking a cigarette. “He’ll figure it out.”

  ***

  They turned onto an unpaved road. There was no moonlight. It was narrow, with not enough room for another car to pass, much less turn around.

  “I imagined it to be closer to town,” Claire said, eying the dark treed wilderness outside the window.

  “Well, if you’re going to run a hooch house, you don't want to be neighbors with the sheriff. It’s better to be out here in the middle of nowhere.”

  Claire let out a sharp, sudden scream, and Arianna slammed on the brakes as two men stepped out into the road before the truck.

  Ava squeezed her eyes shut.
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  “Go! Go! Go! Arianna!”

  “Go where? Run them over? They’re just checking to make sure we’re not the police. Calm down, both of you.” She rolled her eyes at her friends and then rolled her window down.

  The burly man, who would have been attractive without the old scars of acne in his youth and presumably a knife scar on his cheek, looked at each woman in turn. The corner of his mouth hitched.

  “You ladies looking for anything in particular out here on this dark and lonely road?”

  “A drink,” Arianna said. “Preferably…” Her eyes flickered to his bicep. “A strong one. We heard this was the best place for miles.”

  He nodded, stood back, and craned his neck to see into the small bed of the truck. Then he swept out a hand. “Have a good time, ladies.”

  Arianna began driving again and Ava and Claire both let out the breath they were holding. Arianna laughed at them.

  As they pulled up, the house wasn’t much to look at on the outside. It was a massive home, old, and built in the colonial style of days long gone. With peeling paint and weeds overtaking the foundation, neglected was a compliment.

  “I heard this house was built in the 1700s,” Arianna said. “No one will live here because it’s supposed to be haunted.” She grinned viciously.

  “Why are all the windows boarded up?” Claire asked. Streaks of light came through an occasional crack.

  “To keep the light and noise inside, I assume. If I were running this place, I wouldn’t want to draw any unneeded attention.”

  There were large dirt lots on either side of the decaying mansion. They were full up with parked vehicles.

  “Looks like we chose a good night to come,” Arianna said with excitement.

  They stepped inside, and the fast beat of jazz music filled their ears. Whatever Ava was expecting, it wasn’t this. It was a large room, much bigger than even a grand foyer. Big enough to hold fifty people. There were men and women, nicely dressed, she noted, everywhere. They chatted loudly over the music coming from the next room, laughed and drank. This place, the inside anyway, was actually nice. While the outside had been ignored, a great effort had gone into the club itself. Velvet drapes hid the sight of ugly, rough-cut lumber, floral arrangements and lounging chairs placed all about. Ava spotted two girls dressed in short skirts and revealing white blouses running to and fro with trays. The servers, she assumed. There was a mix of electric and candle light. Off to the side, a wide staircase led to the upper floor with a few people heading upstairs and down, as well as some who simply sat talking.

  The music came from the left, the raucous laughter from the right.

  Arianna grabbed both their hands and pulled them toward the laughter.

  Tables dotted the large room, a grand parlor in the house’s prime. A long, mahogany bar stretched across the back with glass shelves behind, displaying dozens and dozens of bottles of alcohol.

  “This is unbelievable!” Arianna cried. “This was here all this time and we never knew! We’ve been sitting and rotting at home, and we could have been having fun!” She threw her arms out.

  “I have to admit, I was picturing a broken down shack with two rickety tables and a few drunks passed out in the corner,” Claire said.

  “And yet you were still willing to come,” Arianna said soberly, shaking her head. “See what we’ve been reduced to? See how boring and stressful our lives have become that you’d be willing to settle for that?” Her face lit up. “I’ll go get drinks. You two find a table.”

  She sauntered off.

  “Is it just me, or…”

  “It’s not just you,” Ava said. “She’s in rare form tonight.”

  “It’s rare now. Remember when she was like this all the time?”

  Ava wrinkled her nose. “I like her better now.”

  “I do, too.” She watched Arianna leave the bar, throwing a flirty look over her shoulder at the bartender as she went. “I do hope we’ve not recreated a monster by agreeing to come here.”

  Arianna plunked down three glasses and pulled a bottle of bourbon from under her arm.

  “You bought the whole bottle?”

  “Well, yes.” Arianna sat down and threw one leg over the other. “I didn’t see any sense in running back and forth to the bar.” She made a point to get Ava’s attention. “You did say I could drink as much as I wanted.”

  “Yes, but…I was just saying that.” She laughed. “You drove here, so I thought…”

  Arianna shrugged as she poured. “One of you two can drive if you want.”

  “Um, next question,” Ava said, leaning forward. “How did you afford to buy a whole bottle? I don’t think Claire and I have that much between us.”

  Arianna giggled, drank, and giggled again. “I skimmed some out of Caleb’s savings.”

  Their eyes went wide.

  “Oh, stop it. He’ll never know it’s gone.” She poured another drink. “Come on, you two. Hurry and get a drink down. I want to go listen to the music.”

  “We’ll sip on the way,” Claire said as she stood. Arianna led the way out of the bar area and across the grand parlor. She walked with a glass in one hand, the neck of the bottle in the other, hips on full pivot, head held high, knowing she was catching men’s eyes left and right.

  As they approached, the music got louder, the lights brighter. The magnificent double doors were propped open, and in this room, the party was in full swing. The band was loud and fast, the dancers wild and carefree. The room was as busy as an anthill; it vibrated with energy and excitement.

  Arianna stopped. The scene seemed to have taken her breath away.

  She lowered her head. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pulled into a slow smile.

  “I’m back.”

  Episode Two

  Rebels Rising

  Muzzy was nervous to type the words. Her decision to write an article at Maura’s suggestion explaining she was the owner of the Rockport Review was the most difficult one to make. But Maura was right. She had to take ownership—publicly—of this paper if it was ever going to be truly hers. It was time to stop dancing around the questions and just be out with it. Was it rare for a woman to own a business? Sure. But it wasn’t unheard of. Her kind was few in number, but they were out there.

  She might lose some subscriptions and she was prepared for that. She happened to think she might gain a few as well, from other strong, independent women in the community. Or at least she hoped.

  ***

  “Did you girls have fun last night?”

  Ava took a slow sip of coffee. She had a mild headache, but nothing she couldn’t fake her way through. “We did,” she said, smiling. “Very relaxing.”

  “Where did you go?”

  Ava froze, unsure of what to say. The truth was out of the question. Jonathan reached for the newspaper and accidentally knocked his coffee over. The sudden movement and how everyone at the table jumped scared Amy and she started to whimper.

  “Oh, let me get a towel,” Ava said, jumping up.

  “It’s all right, Amy. Daddy just made a mess,” Jonathan said.

  “Silly Dadee,” Jean said, leaning over toward his sister. She never broke out into a full sob, and by the time Ava returned, she was giggling at the funny faces Jonathan was making.

  “Help me get the tablecloth off before the stain sets,” Ava said. She breathed a sigh of relief at the distraction.

  “Do you have any plans today?” she asked, hoping once the subject was off the girl’s night out, he would stay off of it.

  “I said I’d help Caleb get started on that house for his mother.”

  “You’re going to build a house?” Jean asked, both amazed and impressed.

  “Well, what hopefully will pass for a house,” he said with a laugh. He was confident in Caleb’s building talents. His own, not so much.

  “Can I come?”

  “I’m sure Caleb would appreciate every helping hand.”

  “Why don’t we all go over?�
� Ava asked. “It’s been a few days since I tended to the garden plot.”

  “You spent the whole evening with Arianna. You aren’t sick of her?”

  “No,” Ava said, laughing off his comment. “I’ll go gather some things for Amy.” She ducked out quickly, hoping to avoid the dreaded question of where they were last night.

  In the hall, she stopped, closed her eyes, and leaned her head on the wall.

  “That was such a bad idea,” she groaned, wishing she could rewind time.

  ***

  “If I tell you something, do you promise to keep it a secret?”

  “Of course,” Aryl said. He sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I need your word that you won’t say anything to Jon or Caleb,” Claire said, wringing her hands, pacing.

  “I said I would.”

  She clamped her lips, giving herself one more moment to decide whether or not to back out.

  “And I need you to promise me something else.”

  He waited.

  “Promise you won’t be angry at me.”

  He rocked back, grinning. “What on earth did you girls do last night?”

  She was glad he appeared lighthearted but didn’t have much faith he’d stay that way.

  “A secret? You swear?”

  “I swear.” He went to her and held her shoulders. “Why do you look so scared?”

  She lifted her eyes. “We went to a club about ten miles from here.”

  The grin slid from his face.

  “It’s not…what you’re thinking. It’s a legitimate club, not a…broken down shack or something.”

  “Legitimate?” he asked, eyebrows hitched. “How can something illegal be legitimate?”

  She frowned. “You said you wouldn’t be angry.”

  “I’m not angry, I’m concerned. Places like that aren’t safe for women alone.”

  “If you’d seen it—”

  “I probably have,” he said, interrupting her.

  She stiffened. “This place was different. Walking in, it was almost like walking back into our old life.”