“They told me I’d find you here. Look, Joseph, it’s clear that George is in serious trouble. I have to be honest with you; I married your brother for better or worse, but recently things have been virtually intolerable with him. I never in my life thought it would turn out this way. Even now the police are at George’s office, poring through his documents and taking them away in boxes. They are like vultures picking through the bones of a corpse.”
“Clara, I’m sorry it turned out this way,” said Joseph.
“I should really be upset with you,” said the wounded aunt, turning her attention to Alexandra and scanning her up and down. “However, I cannot be. In fact, I even owe you a debt of gratitude. I had been living far too long in the hopes that your uncle would become an honourable man. I’ve decided to sell our house, pack our things, and move. Owen and I will live with my sister in Barrie.”
“If there is any way I can help, I will,” said Joseph.
“Thank you, but not now.”
“Well, we’re here if you need us. However, there is a way you can help us.”
“Help you? How?”
“By asking George where Helen is,” he said, a glimmer of hope rising in his voice.
“How would he know where Helen went?”
“Mum, I tried to tell you about that,” said Owen, breaking his silence. “You know that whole story Father told us about Aunt Helen running off with a sailor? It wasn’t true. That was another one of his many lies. In the vision I had, he bragged to Aunt Helen about the fire and she set out to have him prosecuted. He found out and told her to leave with a merchant seaman and never return. If she didn’t do it, he said he’d reduce them all to ashes.”
Clara stood there in the spring sunshine, shaking her head. She sighed. “I’ll ask him. Why not? We certainly don’t have anything more to lose, but you have everything to gain. Don’t get your hopes too high though, even if he does know, he won’t want another witness testifying against him. The best I can do is try.”
* * *
The following days found the newspapers on both sides of the border giving vast coverage to the shady business dealings of George Delmott, his pyromaniac tendencies, and his fall from grace. “Windsor Lawyer Admits Setting Fire,” said one paper, “Arsonist Confesses to Great Fire of ’71,” read another.
Meanwhile, the two cousins continued their schooling, and even Sister Rose seemed softer, especially to Owen, and especially since he made his apology public to Alexandra.
As the month of May wore on, the trip to Ottawa was fast approaching. In fact, it was Friday and the very next day she would leave bright and early. When school was dismissed and the last of the students were leaving, Sister Rose approached Alexandra in private.
“Young lady,” she said.
“Yes, Sister?”
“You know, our school year is almost finished and next year you’ll be attending St. Mary’s. Now that I have a moment, I wanted to say…”
Alexandra looked at the nun, whose face was flushed as she seemed to grasp for the right words. The nun cleared her dry throat. “I wanted to say that I was really quite pleased to have you in my class. Perhaps, though, I pushed myself too hard on you and embarrassed you in front of your classmates. I am truly sorry for that and hope you will accept the apology of this old lady.”
Alexandra smiled at the old nun, who now displayed an unusual, yet particularly welcoming sweetness. Against all proper and acceptable protocol, Alexandra hugged the nun. Sister Rose, hesitant at first, hugged the girl in return. “There’s nothing to forgive, Sister Rose. You really meant well. Please, don’t think I hold anything against you for it but, if you please, of course, I forgive you.”
“Thank you,” said the nun. “Also, don’t forget me when you’re playing in all the great concert halls and with all the great orchestras of Europe, Alexandra.”
“That won’t happen for a while yet,” she said with laughter in her voice. “But before it does, of course I’ll come visit you. You can be sure of that.”
“Well, God bless you, Alexandra. Have a wonderful time in Ottawa. Come home safely!” she said.
“Thank you, Sister! I suppose I should go now. I’ll see you before the roses bloom again,” she said as she joined Owen, who was waiting for her in the corridor.
Sister Rose stood at the classroom window and watched as the cousins walked happily together out of the schoolyard, around the corner, and out of sight. She sighed raggedly and turned back into her empty classroom, raising a hand to her wet eyes.
* * *
“I’d really like to go up to Ottawa with you, Alex,” said Owen.
“Yes, I know, but I promise I’ll get some souvenirs for you. I’ll get some for Emma and Robbie, too. By the way, I’d like you to be the first one to play a duet with me when the new restaurant opens. Maybe you can even play with the Detroit group when they come over! They’re really a lot of fun, you know. We’re also meeting them up in Ottawa.”
Owen sighed. “Thank you, but you heard my mum, we’re moving to Barrie. That will be my new life.”
“Then you will make new memories in that place! A very wise person once told me, ‘You are free to make the memories you want to make.’ I take this to mean that you alone are responsible for your happiness in life and the choices you make. Owen, I’m proud you’re my cousin and that everything is better between us. I’m sure that wherever you are or whatever you do, that we’ll always be close.”
“The same here,” he said as they came to the end of their stroll.
“I’ll see you in a week, Owen,” said Alexandra, taking the boy’s hands in hers then hugging him.
Before leaving, Owen turned back. “I know that wise person who said that to you. He said the same to me.”
* * *
“Welcome, my dear!” said the professor.
“Hello, Maestro!” said Alexandra, stepping into the professor’s home.
“Have you packed for Ottawa yet? I’m sure you’ll love it there. You know, it will be like a second spring. While our blooms have mostly fallen off, theirs should be at peak season. You know, those folks are about a fortnight behind us! Now I want to tell you a piece of very good news.”
“What news, Maestro?”
“The headmaster of the England’s Royal Academy of Music is going to be there at the music festival.”
Alexandra beamed. “Oh, Maestro! That’s wonderful news! Sir Charles wrote and told me all about the Academy! He also said that he’s accepted an appointment to the board of directors! Isn’t it wonderful that he’s involved with music?”
“Indeed it is,” said the Maestro.
“Are we going to hear some of their musicians play?”
“Yes, and more than that! They’re only here with a small contingent promoting their fine institute. However, I personally know the headmaster, Mr. Wilkes, and he specifically asked to hear us, actually you, perform onstage. Remember, word spreads quickly in the music community and they are always looking for fresh, new talent. They’ll hear you now, remember you, and I believe you have every good chance of being accepted by them. I know you can do it, Alexandra. I have every faith in you. If you can do this, I know without any doubt that all your dreams about a musical career will take one giant leap forward.”
“Professor Hergicksen,” she said, her voice taking on a serious tone.
“Please call me Maestro,” he winked.
“All right, Maestro,” she said, smiling. “Thank you so very much for this opportunity. I am so grateful to you for everything you’ve done, all your support, all your encouragement. I promise you I will do my very best. I will not disappoint you.”
“I know,” he said as the two walked to the study.
The Maestro and Alexandra played many songs, including their favourite classical pieces, and even some Celtic music. The two spent their time happily with Alexandra on her violin and the professor accompanying her on the piano.
* * *
When she re
turned to the café later that day, Alexandra found her father at his usual table. He was there with Clara, and they both appeared to be having a serious conversation. “Alexandra, come here please,” said Joseph.
“Dear,” said Clara. “I asked your Uncle George about your mother.”
“He told you?”
“Well, yes he did. I thought maybe he wouldn’t. He said that now it made no difference. I’m so sorry to tell you –”
“That my mother is dead?”
Joseph interrupted. “Please, Angel, let your aunt continue.”
“No, she’s not dead, dear. He sent her away to England with a merchant seaman who would ensure her safe passage. He also said that of course, there was no romantic relationship.”
“I knew it!” said Alexandra, springing up and down. “It’s my destiny! Don’t you see, Papa? It all makes sense! Everything makes perfect sense! Owen told me I would go to her! Remember Sir Charles? Our unfinished business?”
“Well, yes of course I remember!”
“Oh Papa, we must go there! We can find Mama there!”
“That’s not all, though,” said Clara. “He told me he had bribed the officials so that your mother could get a new name, new identity. He did this so that she would never be found.”
“This would truly be an expedition beyond all imagination,” said Joseph. “I promise you, Angel, we will do it. First though, we must open the new restaurant. I have every confidence in Marcie to handle things. Then we will go to England and stay with Sir Charles – and we will find your mother!”
Alexandra threw her arms around her papa and kissed him. She then turned to her aunt. “Thank you, Aunt Clara, for asking. I know Uncle George is telling the truth.”
“For once in his life,” said Clara. “Well, I do hope you find your mother.”
“We will,” said Joseph. “I promise you that.”
* * *
Before the roses bloom again. Alexandra liked that phrase, it was one she remembered her mother using when she said goodbye and she often found herself using it, too. Roses were beautiful – both to look at and to smell. The professor liked roses as well. In fact, they were his favourite flowers. They were certainly something special to look forward to, the perfect symbol for a special meeting with someone you love dearly. Alexandra couldn’t wait to take a ship across the wide expanse of the ocean with her father, returning home with her mother and vast, lovely bouquets of English roses.
That night, when all was quiet, Alexandra was sitting up in her bed reading a book. She heard a gentle knock on her door. “May I come in?” her father asked in a quiet voice.
“Yes, Papa, come in.”
The door eased open and Joseph entered the room. “I’d like to wish you a good night, Angel. Don’t sit up too long. We’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”
“I know, Papa. I’m really excited about going to Ottawa, but I’m more excited about going to England. Do you think we’ll find Mama there?”
“I have no doubt of it. I dream about it myself.”
“Really? Do you dream about finding Mama?”
“I do. In fact, I often have dreams that’s still with us.”
“You do? Can you tell me, please?” she said, placing the book face down.
“Well, let’s see now. Sometimes I dream about her two, even three times a week. The dreams are like she never left. She was there with you, watching you grow, always encouraging you to play your violin.”
“That’s so wonderful, Papa! Oh I wish I could have dreams like that too, but I think I don’t have them because I wasn’t old enough to remember very much,” she said, a wave of sadness washing over her.
“Sometimes dreams can help us cope with the challenges we face in our everyday lives.”
“I think you’re right, Papa,” she said, regaining some level of comfort.
“Now it’s getting late. We both need some sleep so I’m going to bed. Goodnight Angel, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Papa,” she said, smiling. “Sweet dreams.”
Chapter 32
Alexandra and her father were already up when dawn broke the following morning. Their bags were packed, waiting near their table. Then, the bell on the café door clanged merrily as a happy Marcie entered, dressed not in her work clothes but rather in a pink dress and matching, flowered hat. Following her through the door was Denis, dressed smartly in a suit with a gold chain which looped round, tucked neatly in his pocket.
“You shine up real nice, Denis! Just like a new penny. I hardly recognized you!” said Joseph, chuckling.
Marcie laughed. “We’re going to our nation’s capital today, so we thought we’d get all dressed up for the occasion. Good Lord knows when we’re going to have the chance to get away again!”
They departed the café for the short walk to the train station. When they arrived, the professor met them on the platform. He had a cased violin as well as a medium sized suitcase. Alexandra immediately noticed something different.
“Good morning, Maestro! Where’s your Valentina?”
“Ah, how observant of you, my dear! I decided to retire her. You know, it’s time I made a break with the past and thought more about the future. This instrument I have here is also of fine quality. I’ll show it to you on the train during our trip.”
“I look forward to seeing it,” said Alexandra, a knowing smile spreading across her face.
They took their places in the train and, after the customary “All Aboard!” the mighty steam engine headed off into the rising spring sun.
The train huffed and chugged steadily eastward past all the familiar places – Chatham, London, Toronto. Alexandra spent a good part of the journey sitting near her window watching as the scenery changed. She noticed a great deal of change after they passed Toronto.
The landscape now consisted of a lush green forest which sprouted from the rugged, hilly terrain – which itself seemed to have been formed by a great sculptor’s hand. As the train wound its way through this paradise, the hills often gave way to allow a spectacular view of tree-lined lakes, their shimmering waters sparkling in the sunshine. Alexandra and her travelling companions marvelled at the rocky slopes with pine trees growing precariously from between cracks in the rocks, and how these trees formed a blanket of green, softening the ancient, lichen-covered rocks.
“Aren’t you going to show me your violin, Maestro?” Alexandra asked.
“Oh yes, I’m sorry, I almost forgot!” The professor reached for the case and opened it. “This fine instrument was made by the Klotz family of Germany. It’s well over one hundred years old.”
Alexandra examined it in its case, but dared not touch it. “Aren’t you afraid to travel with it, Maestro?”
“No, I just don’t let it out of my sight. Anyway, you’ll hear it tomorrow. We play at noon sharp.”
At long last, the train eased to a stop in Ottawa.
* * *
The air in that part of the country was noticeably different. It had a distinct woodsy aroma to it, though sometimes one could smell the odours wafting through the air from the E.B. Eddy paper mill.
The five set off in their coach, bound for their hotel, which was a cozy limestone building overlooking the Rideau Canal. It wasn’t as luxurious as Alexandra remembered the Queen’s Hotel being, yet it was charming, affording the traveller everything they could hope for – friendly staff, comfortable rooms, and an elegant dining room. It would be their home for the next several days.
“Professor Wilkes from the music academy in London will be joining us for dinner tonight,” said the professor. “We mustn’t keep him waiting, he’s a very busy man. If you thought I was busy and impatient, this man is the very definition! Come quickly!”
The small group of travellers met, famished, in the dining room overlooking the canal.
“Oh this is so marvellous!” Marcie said as she took her place at the table. “I’m so glad we were able to come! It’s nice for someone t
o serve me for a change!”
“I’m glad we came too. We needed the break,” said Denis. “I’m sure Bernice is taking care of everything back home.”
“You were indeed right, Maestro,” said Alexandra.
Aydy's Fiddle - The Memory Thief Page 27