by Beth Byers
Eddy cursed and to Georgette’s shock, she saw he flushed so darkly his face was a brilliant red. They walked in silence for a long time and Georgette saw a parting in the trees as they neared the water.
“Eddy,” Georgette finally asked softly. “Whatever is wrong with you? Do you believe those idiot boys?”
“No, I’m not a good brother. Or a good human. We’ve taken the hospitality and the safety you gave us and…and…”
Georgette stared at him waiting for an explanation, when his face moved beyond her to the lake. And then his eyes narrowed. The dark brown orbs widened and then the self-loathing adjusted to horror.
“Eddy?”
Georgette didn’t get an answer, so she followed his gaze. Her own eyes narrowed as she tried to understand what she was seeing. First there was the blue water of the lake. It was lovely, she thought, though darker in color than she’d expected. Was that accurate? Or was it just her idea of this haunted lake making it seem eerie?
Georgette’s gaze moved from the water to the trees around it. They were evergreen and dark and lovely, but they weren’t responsible for that horror on Eddy’s face. Georgette followed his gaze again and realized he was looking at the middle of the lake. It wasn’t a particularly large lake, but neither was it barely above a pond. In the middle of the lake there was a small island.
It was a lovely place. Georgette could easily imagine rowing across the lake with Charles, reaching the island, and having a picnic. On a sunny spring day, it would be endlessly romantic. In fact, a scene for her new book was unfolding in her mind, and included a delightful combination of horribly romantic and intensely awkward.
Then her eyes moved to the trees again. There were just three of them and they weren’t evergreens like the ones lining the lake. They looked as though they might be deliberately planted fruit trees. Just tall enough that it was possible to reach up and grab an apple or a plum. She wasn’t quite sure what kind of fruit they were. The wind blew hard for a moment and the leaves all moved and with them, a shadow.
Her gaze narrowed and the dark form she hadn’t initially seen in the shadow of the trees became recognizable. She knew what it was. Of course she did. The two arms, the two legs, the slumped head. It was just that she didn’t expect to see it there, on the island. Hanging below the trees, was a body.
4
georgette dorothy aaron
“Should we see if he’s still alive?” Eddy asked, voice quavering a little. Georgette could only imagine how difficult it was for the boy to see someone of his age just…gone.
“He?” Georgette asked, to draw Eddy’s attention from the fact that one of his peers was dead. Perhaps if his mind was focused elsewhere this would be less traumatic for him.
She didn’t explain her thought process, but it was clear to Georgette that the body was, in fact, male. Maybe Eddy wasn’t thinking clearly. She took Eddy’s binoculars without a comment and focused on the body. She had been right. The body was a male. A young male. His clothes flapped in the wind. His feet were bare. She shuddered and pulled the binoculars away.
Eddy was finally able to focus on what Georgette was saying and wanted a chance to look for himself. Georgette struggled to let him look. She wanted to cover his eyes and bring him home, but…she didn’t think that was the right choice. She knew he was nearly grown, prepared for the university, and going to see death often as a doctor. He needed to be sure that was what he wanted before he spent time and money becoming such a thing, only to realize he wasn’t meant for such a profession.
Eddy gasped as he looked through the binoculars, but he didn’t pull them away. His face paled and he looked a little green. Georgette fought the need to take the binoculars away and tell him that everything would be all right. Clearly that was not the case for this boy. Sometimes, there was no all right at the end of the story. At least not for everyone.
“Why would one of Guy Bayles’s spoiled friends hang himself? This was the one who didn’t laugh so hard when they were teasing me. I remember thinking I could have liked him in different circumstances.”
Georgette’s head tilted. Hang himself? She wasn’t sure she agreed with him, but she didn’t know if it was the right thing to say. Instead, she tugged his arm. “He’s gone.”
“He is,” Eddy said and then pulled the binoculars away. He shuddered lightly and Georgette took in a deep breath just to model the movement for him. He followed her movement. Unconsciously, she thought.
Only the green of his complexion increased. He spun, stumbling to the bushes and vomited into the undergrowth. Georgette didn’t cross to him and rub his back because she didn’t think he would appreciate it. She let him finish and then handed him her handkerchief. He avoided her gaze, and she decided the better part of valor for him would be to leave it entirely unmentioned.
“I suppose we had better make our way back and find the local constable.”
“He isn’t going to be all that surprised when we show up and tell him about a body,” Eddy added. “We’re surrounded by death from my parents to your books. At least this time, it was self-inflicted.”
Georgette frowned again and Eddy caught the expression.
“What?”
“What did you notice about him?” Neither of them were looking at the body.
“It was just one of those fellows I ran into yesterday. I don’t know his name, but I could be him.” He shuddered again and the sick expression he’d been fighting increased.
Georgette shook her head and then gestured to the body.
“Not that,” Georgette said carefully. “What did you notice about his clothes?”
“Sporting clothes. I’m wearing something very similar.” Eddy’s brow furrowed, and he eyed Georgette trying to see what she meant.
“No.” Georgette shook her head. “What I mean is that they’re dry.”
Eddy nodded. “Yes.” The frown hadn’t faded. If anything, he was staring at Georgette as if she was unwell.
Georgette knew she’d been a little off since the baby was born, with a tendency toward both tears and irritability, but she didn’t think she deserved to have her reasoning questioned, so she might have sounded a little waspish when she added, “There was no boat.”
“Oh,” Eddy said and then repeated, drawing out the word, “Ohhh.”
“No boat, dry clothes. He wasn’t alone when he died. How could he be if his clothes are dry?”
Eddy turned and scanned the lake, searching for some loose boat that perhaps had worked itself free and floated away. Or some other sign of another person having been with the boy. Georgette eyed the dead boy, finding herself in an analytical haze as he was a boy the age of her Eddy, but she needed to somehow set that aside.
The boy was hanging, dry-clothed. There was little that she could see of the dirt below him, but she had to wonder about it. If he was murdered, was it possible that there were signs of a struggle? Surely the boy had fought if he’d realized what was coming? If he hadn’t fought, and Georgette was right about her conclusion, why hadn’t he fought?
Why was she even asking herself this? She thought, perhaps, it might be because of Eddy. If she focused on the unanswerable questions, she might be able to keep her imagination on that rather than the victim being the boy she loved versus the boy she didn’t know.
Georgette glanced at Eddy and asked, “How many boys were with that Bayles kid yesterday?”
Eddy flinched at the word ‘kid,’ but he answered without arguing about the qualification of his manhood.
Georgette paused, losing her distance as a sudden vision struck her. Someone had taken a schoolboy and murdered him, cutting short all of his possibilities, whatever future he might have had, whatever children he might have fathered, whatever accomplishments he might have made. They were all gone. They’d stolen him from those that loved him, and in a few short hours, a mother was going to learn that her son had been taken away. The analytical haze faded, and Georgette had to clench her teeth hard to avoid tears.
; She tried again for the haze, focusing on the scene—but not the body—around the boy. From what they could see, there was nothing that could provide more information on what had actually happened. Even if Georgette’s horrible conclusion was wrong, they wouldn’t be able to tell from here. Perhaps there really was a boat on the island, but somehow hidden in the shadow of the trees? She couldn’t be sure, and maybe she’d just been involved in murder too many times. She almost felt as though she saw it wherever she looked.
If she was wrong, she would rejoice. If she was right, however, she couldn’t help but wonder why. Eddy shuddered and then tugged her towards the exit. In moments, he was almost pulling her as they hurried toward their house. They weren’t running, as Georgette hadn’t returned to her regular strength, although she wasn’t particularly athletic before having a baby.
“He was hanged though,” Eddy said, breathing hard. “Maybe his friends couldn’t stop him from hurting himself. Maybe they’ve gone for help?”
Georgette wondered about that; however, they hadn’t seen boys running away from here, had they? She and Eddy had been walking slow and easy since she’d barely been out of the house or walked for far too long. If this boy had killed himself and his friends had been unable to stop him, she and Eddy should have seen them running by. Or, if perhaps, they had missed those boys because they had run ahead, then help should be here.
She had to stop moving, so she leaned over and put her hand on her side. “Whoever he was with left him there, though, didn’t they? He was in a group of boys; they should have left one with him.”
Eddy frowned and then said, “Non-guilty people would have called the constable and the doctor.” The last bit of his phrase was mumbled, but Georgette ignored it. The poor boy. Was he worrying about becoming a doctor after this?
“It won’t be so bad when you’re the doctor,” Georgette told him. “An unexpected death of someone who you didn’t like isn't the same as attending the sick.”
“I—” Eddy flushed and nodded. “Mr. Wiley says it takes time, experience, and mental fortitude to deal with those that we lose, but he said I would be able to do it. I trust him. Even after today.”
5
georgette dorothy aaron
As they reached the house, Georgette saw Marian rushing from the house, worry on her face. A part of Georgette’s mind wondered how Marian knew that something was wrong while another part was cataloging all that they needed to do for that poor dead boy.
“There you are!”
“Hello. Has word got out then?” Georgette asked, thinking they needed to contact the doctor as soon as possible. “Maybe I was wrong about those boys.”
“You knew?” Marian gasped in horror. Then her brow furrowed and she answered, “What boys?”
“Well, not until my walk,” Georgette answered slowly, just as confused as Marian. “I suppose someone called the local constables?”
“No,” Marian said. “Do you think we should?”
“Of course. The constables. The doctor,” Georgette replied, staring at Marian. Of course they should call about the body. But… “Whatever are you talking about Marian?”
“Lucy,” she replied in unison with Eddy who had paled again. He looked sick, and he was avoiding her gaze. Georgette had a flash of memory of the boy being upset before they’d found the other dead schoolboy.
“Lucy?” Georgette demanded of Marian, who she’d started to think of as the other Mrs. Aaron. “What’s wrong with Lucy?”
She sounded panicked, but of course a schoolboy had been murdered earlier that day. Lucy was only about a year older than Eddy. Georgette had this instant vision of horror when she imagined that some madman was murdering young people.
“She’s all right,” Eddy said reassuringly. “Lucy is safe. I promise.”
“She’s gone,” Marian snapped. “How can you say that?”
Eunice stepped out the house with Wentworth who was squalling, and Georgette’s chest suddenly began leaking breast milk. She froze in shock. For a moment there, it was too much for her to think about. Whatever should she do?
“Lucy is missing,” Marian told Georgette slowly as if she were dim-witted. It wasn’t cruelty, it just seemed that Georgette wasn’t registering whatever truth Marian was trying to convey, and who could in this madness? Georgette found she couldn’t think at all when Wentworth was wailing.
“We’ll deal with that,” Eunice said, then added, “Lucy is a grown woman and the baby must be fed and only Georgette—” She trailed off significantly and walked forward, putting the baby in Georgette’s arms.
Before Georgette could reply, the dogs darted from the house, racing in circles and barking and Georgette felt her chest start to tighten in panic. She tried to breathe in slowly, but she gasped as Wentworth started wailing even louder. Her mind was tripping in indecision as both Janey and the nanny exited the house looking to Georgette for leadership.
“Georgette?” Marian demanded. “What do we do?”
“Miss Georgie?” Eunice said, gaze fixed on Wentworth.
“Mrs. Aaron,” the nanny added, “that baby must be fed.”
“Janey,” Georgette snapped, pulling herself together. She put the baby on her shoulder and rubbed his back, but he wouldn’t be consoled. “Take the dogs to the back garden. Nanny, help Janey. Marian, call the constable and tell him we need to see him and the doctor right away. Eunice, I need aspirin and tea. Eddy, where is Lucy?”
When the constable arrived, Georgette was still feeding Wentworth. He had calmed down enough to eat, but he was doing so in a furious manner that conveyed he was supremely disappointed in his mother. Georgette softly rubbed his back and ran her fingers along his perfect ear while Marian opened the door to the local police officer.
Constable Rogers was a man of somewhat indeterminate age. He was somewhere between thirty-five years old and fifty years old. His hair was thick with a light scattering of gray in otherwise brown locks. He had kind eyes and had never expected to face so many terrible crimes in the small village of Harper’s Hollow. He probably imagined being the helper for his local village. Perhaps stepping in during a bit of a fisticuffs or turning a light-fingered local boy around.
The Aaron family had semi-adopted the constable, but he didn’t look pleased to have been called in. Almost as if they’d been associated with the worst in Constable Rogers’s mind. Georgette waved him in and then sighed with relief as Eunice handed her an aspirin and a cup of tea.
Georgette took the aspirin and drank deeply from her cup. She had bypassed dainty sipping for the kind of gulping that showed all was wrong. Gulping or not, she hoped for some sort of magical tea-induced peacefulness, but it wasn’t working. Given that Wentworth had barely stopped squalling before they heard the knock on the door, she was still shuddering inside.
Georgette sighed and then turned her gaze to the blushing Rogers.
“Wasn’t able to find the doctor,” he said, avoiding looking at Georgette while she fed the baby. They could all hear Wentworth’s frantic guzzling.
It was highly irregular, but Georgette couldn’t think with Wentworth crying, and she couldn’t just excuse herself either. She avoided an apology as poor Rogers would be even more uncomfortable.
“Lucy is missing,” Marian said the moment the constable was seated. She handed him a cup of tea which he accepted and then immediately set aside. His kind eyes focused on Marian almost gratefully and then his brows rose as he registered what Marian said.
His glanced around, never looking at Georgette. “Where have you looked? When did you see her last?”
Georgette answered that one, “Last night for me.”
“She’s not missing,” Eddy said. blushing brilliantly and looking quite upset. “She left.”
The constable cleared his throat, and Georgette gasped. The constable said the horrible words first. “She ran away?”
Eddy shook his head, cleared his throat, and said, “She’s eloped. That’s why you couldn’t find the d
octor.”
Georgette’s first reaction was hurt. A devastating, painful jab that made her almost shudder. Wentworth felt it, and he furiously pulled away. Georgette carefully adjusted herself and then put Wentworth on her shoulder. She alternated between patting his back and running her hand up and down his spine. “Why did she elope?”
Georgette nuzzled Wentworth while she took a moment to box her feelings and attempt to pretend she wasn’t on the edge of tears.
Eddy rubbed the back of his neck and admitted, “She was concerned you wouldn’t like it, and they were worried about timing and having to talk you into the plan. Lucy knows that you think most girls get married too early.” Eddy looked full of guilt.
“So she and Dr. West have left to get married elsewhere?”
Eddy nodded. “They arranged things with a vicar near Larbert where the doctor’s family lives.”
Georgette winced again although she tried to hide it. She wasn’t successful and then Eddy caught her quickly blinking to hide the shine of tears. Georgette turned her face into Wentworth’s sweet neck to try to hold in her tears.
“I tried to stop her,” Eddy offered. “She didn’t want you to feel like you needed to give her what Marian got as far as a wedding goes. Lucy says you’ve done enough for us. That you spend so much on educating me, and an expensive celebration wouldn’t help anyone and she didn’t need it.”
“Why did she not want to do a simple one?” Georgette heard the whine in her voice, and she winced at the next flash of guilt on Eddy’s face. This wasn’t his fault. Other than not telling what Lucy had been up to, Georgette didn’t blame Eddy.
“They wanted to hurry because Dr. West’s mother isn’t doing well. It was decided quickly, and Lucy didn’t want to wait and explain. Mrs. West is only expected to live a few days. Dr. West wanted to hurry back, and—”
There was nothing to be done now, and Georgette supposed she could understand the desire to let his mother see his bride and to save the cost of a celebration, but her feelings were hurt. She closed her eyes tightly, then looked up in surprise when Janey clutched Georgette’s free hand tightly.