Gwen asked for a moment to consult with Twyla. She explained the timing of the invitation. ‘That’s no good for you, Twyla. And you’re the one who should be there. Shall I tell Nellie you’ll go on your own on Tuesday?’
‘I’d rather you went ahead with it tomorrow, Gwen. I’m sure as houses you and Sarah have a better eye for what’s valuable and what isn’t than I do. And we’re all eager to the jumping point to know as much about Elizabeth’s activities as possible. Could be she tried to sell this man whatever it is she seems like to be taking up to Boston, and he told her his wasn’t the right kind of shop for it.’
And so it was agreed. The following morning proceeded according to the arranged timetable. Sid Jennson collected Sonny as promised. Twyla left in her car for Pleasant Meadows, and Gwen headed down to Nellie’s in hers with Jumbo in the back. She had asked if it would be all right to bring Jumbo because she wanted to take him for a walk along the beach afterward, hopefully with Sarah.
Oliver had returned to the Cully Mansion the previous evening. At the potluck Elizabeth had reminded him of his responsibilities to Feathers. Poor little parakeet! He wasn’t where he was meant to be either. ‘And that is one more thing to weigh Oliver down,’ Gwen said to Jumbo on getting him out of the car.
Gwen had never been in Nellie’s house before, but once ushered inside it was very much what she had expected, having been told it was still much the same as when lived in by Nellie’s elderly parents. They’d liked farmhouse plain, same as she did, not caring for furniture that talked down to her. The door opened directly into the living room and thence through a rounded archway into the dining room. There was a red brick fireplace, heavy-weave dark blue and cream check on rods at the windows, and beneath the coffee table a multicolored rag rug. Instead of a sofa there was a grouping of four comfortably shabby armchairs. Jumbo lay down beside one of them.
Sarah had arrived earlier and she said, standing in the archway, ‘Isn’t this an inviting house, Gwen?’
‘It certainly is. I can understand why the spirit guys enjoy stopping by.’
‘But Nellie just told me she’s thinking of moving out to Ferry Landing,’ Sarah said, ‘to be close to her great-nephew, his wife and Brian.’
‘They’ve been pushing for it,’ said Nellie from behind Gwen, ‘but I’m still mulling things over. If Frank Andrews should decide to sell his house that might be the clincher, it being just around the corner from them. Let’s get started in there.’ She pointed her stick toward the dining room. ‘I’ve moved my stuff and set out Lizzie’s loot on the bottom dresser shelf.’
Sarah, being nearest, reached it first and was holding a Meisen figurine when they joined her. ‘The man asked for four hundred for this, but he let Nellie have it for three hundred and fifty. What do you think?’ She handed it to her.
Gwen looked it over before returning it to the dresser shelf. ‘Rather nice. A pretty piece and in good condition. I’d say that was fair, but I wonder how high his markup was.’ She and Sarah looked over the other pieces. Mostly china, a couple more figurines, including one of Napoleon. And there was the teapot Nellie had mentioned. It was Minton and, Gwen thought, at least pre-World War Two. Probably the person most likely to pay the most would be someone wishing to increase or complete a set. But it would be a matter of him, or her, happening by, unless the shop owner was on eBay. What she found most personally delightful were four Georgian or Regency enameled snuff boxes. She thought it likely, not having looked at the itemized sales receipt, that they might have accounted for a sizeable portion of what Nellie, now hovering in the background, had paid out. There were also some silver pieces – a nutcracker, a pair of grape scissors and a miniature frame without its intended photo – sensible of Elizabeth to have removed it. And in addition to these, the small silver carriage clock Robin Polly had said was given to his wife of many years by Nathaniel Cully. Sarah passed it over.
‘Read the verse, Gwen; I think you’ll agree Oliver would love to have it.’
The engraving required her reading glasses; she drew them out of her skirt pocket. Count not the hours as lost, when I am gone from thee, my love so deep transcends, the widest lonely sea. She stood, remembering John and her parents, her eyes misting. ‘I know Oliver would treasure this. Nathaniel and his wife were an elderly couple when he gave this to her. I have this sense, I don’t know why – unless sentimentality – that his health was failing and that verse expressed his belief that the love for those left behind never dies and that he would always be there, some way, somehow, for her.’
‘I go along with that!’ proclaimed Nellie with a dangerously close wave of her stick. ‘Mighty comforting notion for young Oliver, I’d think, losing both parents so young and now his grandfather failing bad. Then there’s his interest in Nathaniel – came asking if I knew of any photos or pictures of him as a young boy to get a look at.’
‘Yes,’ agreed Sarah, ‘living in that house, Oliver naturally wants to learn as much as he can about him. Do you want us to look at that receipt, Nellie?’
‘Well, don’t neither of you faint at the total. You’ll see it’s three thousand, seven hundred. And it’s not like I can count on getting it back, seeing as no one asked me to stick my nose in. Still, worth every penny to my mind if it helps get Oliver away from that pair! I don’t know if what she did here is a misdemeanor or a felony, if let’s say Elizabeth’s take home was two thousand, and half of that would be Oliver’s share.’
‘It’s not like stealing a handkerchief, is it?’ Gwen looked down at the receipt Sarah had just handed to her. As she had guessed, the snuff box had been the costliest of the items. ‘Either way Oliver is going to hate it. He has the most susceptible heart. He’s suffering enormous guilt because he can’t sufficiently love that parakeet they gave him, so imagine how he’d feel with Elizabeth and Gerard being a thieving aunt and uncle.’
‘You’ve got me there, good.’ Nellie’s still, rounded face deflated. ‘But that poor child can’t be left to their mercies.’
‘And he will not be,’ said Gwen, ‘but by the appropriate person, Frank Andrews. Twyla has gone to talk to him now. Knowing Frank as she does, she is sure he will wish to handle the situation in the most restrained and productive way possible.’ Gwen had informed Sarah and Evan on the phone yesterday evening, after Oliver had gone back to the Cullys, of what Twyla was going to say to Frank with the doctor present. The only part omitted concerned the suggestion Oliver should be placed in the care of – as Twyla had said – the couple he had evidently chosen for his parents.
Gwen and Sarah remained for coffee but did not linger because Nellie had to get to her church meeting. There was no rush for Gwen to get home in case Sonny wanted to come home early because Sid Jennson had said he’d nothing on that day and would be glad to stay with him until her return. Jumbo again in the back and Sarah now beside her, Gwen drove her car across the road to Bramble Cottage and parked in the drive. By what felt like an unspoken agreement, nothing was said about what had transpired at Nellie’s, but it hovered – an impenetrable blend of rainbow and gray cloud as they left the car and strolled together on the beach with Jumbo. It was another gloriously warm day under a cloudless blue sky.
Sarah said as they neared the steps, ‘Evan and I are going to get married in a couple of weeks. We don’t want to wait because it’s so important to us that Oliver be there and that Evan can be living here and not missing time with him.’
They had stopped walking. ‘I’m so very pleased for you both.’ Gwen placed a hand on Sarah’s shoulder. ‘You’re two very special people and meant for each other.’
‘It has to seem so quick. We only met four weeks ago but we just knew . . . right away, that something incredible was happening. I know that sounds ridiculous.’
‘Not to me. It was exactly the same with John and me, but in our case it was initially an impossible situation. I was married to Sonny’s father, Charles. And John had recently become engaged to my sister, Rowena. I only sa
w him one other time in the next five years, when he came one evening to break the news that my father had died.’
‘Oh, Gwen! What a painful situation. Do you mind telling me what happened?’
‘Not at all. I’ve been thinking back on it all so much lately. It was all so painfully tangled. On the day after the funeral Rowena’s bottled-up resentment of me exploded. She had been under so much stress. She had been staying with our parents for several weeks. Our father had been depressed – afraid he was losing his memory. He was only in his fifties. They didn’t talk about early onset Alzheimer’s in those days, but a brain tumor had been ruled out. When Sonny was diagnosed I immediately thought he must have inherited the susceptibility, although the medical thinking is it doesn’t skip the next generation and then genetically crop up in the following one. So it may just be one of those sad coincidences. My father took an overdose while my mother and Rowena were out one afternoon, so you can see why she was distraught.’
‘What did she say to you?’
‘That she’d ended her engagement to John because she had eyes and wasn’t a fool. That she’d been in love with Charles before he set her aside to marry me. We’d both known him from childhood onwards because our parents and his were close friends. But he’d told her that after much soul-searching he’d decided Rowena was cut out to be the ideal mistress, not the suitable wife. That I was the sister much better suited for that role. And as money wasn’t the issue – we’d both come in for a very nice inheritance one day – best to go for the woman he wouldn’t need to worry might stray.’
‘How cold-blooded! Had you wondered during your marriage if there was an attraction between them?’
‘I should have seen it.’ Gwen looked down at Jumbo, sitting patiently at her feet, and back to Sarah.‘But I didn’t, until the day Rowena brought John to our home in Boston to introduce him as her fiancé. We’d already known she was coming with our parents for the weekend. John was the surprise. They arrived early and I was out in the garden. She sent him out to break the news to me . . . it was as though she knew what was going to happen. From lunch onwards Charles was in a thunderous mood that I don’t believe had anything to do with me, except as a means of venting, because when we went up to our bedroom that evening he made no attempt to hide his raging jealousy over the engagement. He said Rowena was a fool and that if the marriage did come off it wouldn’t last, because she’d soon lose interest in John – she wasn’t meant for anything permanent.’
‘Were you and Rowena able to patch things up after her outburst?’
‘Only on the surface, and very little of that. She moved shortly afterward to France, where she still lives. Our mother visited her there frequently through the years until her death. And occasionally – more toward the end – Rowena came and stayed with her. I don’t know what excuses she made for not seeing me, but knowing she would want to see Sonny I arranged with my mother for him to spend time with them.’
‘You said you didn’t see John for five years?’
‘Yes, and that came about from an extraordinary generosity on Rowena’s part when my life caved in. I’d suspected for some time that Charles was having affairs. Looking back, I think he may have started in the first few years of our marriage. But I told myself I had to think of Sonny, though that was wrong thinking – Charles had never shown him affection, and as a result he resented and disliked him. I’d gone with Sonny on the train, because he loved it, to stay with my mother for a couple of weeks as we always did in the summer. Charles was always too busy with work to accompany us, but after a few days I wasn’t feeling well, suffering from nausea and a nagging pain in my side.’
‘Appendicitis?’
‘Yes, as it turned out, but my mother’s doctor wasn’t sure. I was feeling better the day I saw him, so he advised me to go and see my own. It didn’t seem fair to curtail Sonny’s time with his grandmother, so it was agreed he should stay on with her; there didn’t seem to be any problem in my going back on the train alone as I was still feeling better. And I didn’t phone Charles to tell him I was returning because he was supposed to be in Chicago.’
‘Supposed?’ Sarah touched her arm.
‘I walked into the house, after taking a taxi from the station, and went immediately upstairs to lie down because the pain was starting up again. Charles was in the bed with a woman. You can picture the scene that ensued. She clutching at the sheets and going into hysterics, hurling vitriolic darts at me as the rotten wife who had only herself to blame. Charles red in the face, yelling at me to get out so he could pack and leave for good. Amazingly, I had felt sorry for him. All his talk about Rowena not being the type for marriage, and he was the one who should never have made a lifetime commitment. But afterward the shock began to sink in. I phoned my mother to say I was home, but nothing else except that I would see the doctor. I needed time to prepare myself for explaining calmly to Sonny that his father and I had come to the realization we didn’t suit each other’s needs sufficiently to make it seem right to stay together. I was foolish in not going to the doctor for three days, but I wanted to pretend there really wasn’t anything wrong beyond an upset stomach – this wasn’t the time for an operation. The result was that my dear housekeeper Mrs Broom had to call an ambulance, and I had to be rushed to the hospital. My appendix had ruptured and I was in danger of not making it. I’d wake to find my mother sitting at my bedside. She told me later that I’d said things in my semi-conscious state that alerted her to the fact that something had happened between Charles and me, so she’d asked Mrs Broom for the facts. She also conveyed this information to Rowena during one of her phone calls giving updates of my condition.’
‘Did she come to see you?’ Sarah’s hand was still on her arm.
‘No, she said she thought doing so would scare me. But when I was on the mend and sitting up in bed talking to my mother and Sonny, John walked into the room. Rowena had sent him. She’d called the friend who had introduced them to ask for his phone number.’ Gwen inhaled the beauty of the day. ‘We had an incredibly good life together until his death ten years ago.
‘Thank God for second chances,’ said Sarah. ‘What became of Charles? Did he marry the other woman?’
‘No. I heard from mutual acquaintances that he continued to play the field for years. I could feel sorry for him but for one final piece of information that someone made sure to pass along, and I pray to God Sonny never heard.’ Gwen pressed a hand to her cheek and bit down on her lip before continuing. ‘Charles would have been in his fifties or sixties at the time . . . when he was suspected of physically attacking a woman who’d told him to leave her alone or she’d take out a restraining order. If it’s true, he got away with it because she refused to name the assailant.’
‘Oh, Gwen!’ It was all Sarah could say.
‘There’s that fear of retaliation – immediate or delayed.’
‘I know. A friend of mine had a similar experience.’
They stood in the sunshine looking out at the purity of the ocean. Gwen reached for Sarah’s hand. ‘Now for something I’ve never told anyone, but of all people you should know. That woman lived in Boston. I remember her name. How could I forget it?
Sarah knew what was coming. Evan’s revelation of what he’d heard in high school had paved the way.
‘She was Nan Fielding.’
Twelve
Oliver was paddling a yellow kayak into shore when he saw Sarah coming down her steps to the beach with Gwen behind her. They were understandably staring at him with startled faces. He remembered telling both of them he was nervous of being in boats because he wasn’t keen on deep water. Even if he hadn’t said that, he was sure they wouldn’t think it sensible for him to have gone out on his own. Grandpa and Twyla wouldn’t have agreed to it; neither would Mr and Mrs Armitage have let Brian, who was super good in his kayak. Oliver was dragging it by the bow cord further up the beach when Sarah and Gwen reached him.
‘I know,’ he looked apologetically up at
them, ‘but I had to do it. I was on an unavoidable mission, you see.’
‘What sort of one?’ Sarah’s mouth twitched but the concern was still there, as it was on Gwen’s face.
‘I was coming along the beach to see you. Elizabeth and Gerard said I could when I’d seen to Feathers. And I did spend time talking to him. Halfway along, I slowed down because I saw them – Emjagger and Rolling Stone – ahead of me. I thought they’d keep going but they stopped to drag the dory out from under the overhang.’ Oliver pointed slightly to his right at the top of the beach. ‘I waited where I was till they had it in the water and pulled away. When I got to where they had been standing, I saw an inhaler on the ground. Rolling Stone has asthma. His mother told me he sometimes has really bad attacks, can’t get a breath, and it could be life-threatening if he didn’t have his inhaler with him. So I had to take one of the kayaks and follow them.’
‘I do see,’ Sarah said. ‘But, oh, Oliver, you didn’t even have a life jacket!’
‘Neither did they. I hope whoever owns it won’t mind that I took the kayak and a paddle. I know the boats never look like they’ve been budged, but that doesn’t mean they’ve been abandoned forever, does it?’
‘No, but I have wondered. No question you did what you had to do; it was very brave and amazingly generous considering those two boys have hardly been kindness itself to you.’ Oliver appreciated Sarah’s putting it that way, knowing he’d only told Twyla soon after meeting them that they were the bullying sort, but nothing of the incident involving Nat’s statue. Gwen would also be in the dark about those frightening moments on the common before Sarah and Evan rescued him. ‘I only wish there had been some life jackets lying around too.’ Sarah hugged him. ‘Don’t Emjagger and Rolling Stone have boats of their own?’
Sea Glass Summer Page 30
