Thought You Were Dead
Page 22
“It was meant as a little surprise, dear. I was going to do some research on my own to see if I could find out something about her, but I didn’t get very far, I’m afraid. Brick wall. My theory, though, is that she came from a town called Beith, in Scotland, or her ancestors did. She gave you something significant, you see. Something to go on. You could follow it up.”
“I could . . . maybe. So I have peaty genes in my blood, you think? Makes sense.” He wet his lips at the thought. “We should raise a glass to her, Mrs. H.”
“Yes, let’s. But first, I do have something for you. Seeing as I’m the only one allowed to provide the real deus ex machina around here, being the author and all.” She slid her hand into the pocket of her jade silk jacket and brought out two keys attached to a silver ring. These she dangled in front of him and said, “Let’s step outside, shall we.”
When they did, Chellis marvelled. “That’s some machina.”
Crouched in the driveway, among the hybrids, the cheapies, and the gas-guzzling baddies was the compact, but elegant silver sports car that Athena had driven to the shower. A grown-up boy’s dream.
She handed him the keys. “Here you go, darling, it’s yours. I’ll get a cab home.”
“No possible way! You can’t, Mrs. H., I mean, honestly.”
“I can, though, Chellis. Don’t quibble.”
“I can’t believe this. It’s . . . gorgeous. Thank you a gazillion. You’re a . . . a . . . .”
“A mere woman, Chellis, but one of means. Besides, I’m enormously grateful. Lazar couldn’t have done a better job.”
“That’s for sure.”
She narrowed her eyes and peered into the dark, having caught sight of a flicker of movement, someone crossing the lawn. “Ah, here comes Elaine, and looking, hmm, somewhat pugnacious, wouldn’t you say?”
Elaine expelled a hard syllable of greeting as she marched past them and into the house.
“Yikes. Bee in her bonnet. We may need that drink, Mrs. H. I have a quarter-bottle of something ferociously phenolic in the cupboard. I’ve been saving it for a special, and/or trying, occasion. What do you say we go kill it?”
“Murder at its most satisfying, Chellis.”
A few drinks did help to fortify him for Elaine’s surly mood. With his insides aglow, he himself wasn’t as surly as he might have been when she shattered both of his kitchen windows in demonstrating her newly developed window opener. Everyone else cheered and hooted at the spectacular effect, glass exploding into the night, while Chellis restrained himself from the extremes of passion.
“Shoot. It’s back to the drawing board, I guess.” She stood frowning at her all too successful window-opening device.
“I beg to differ,” he said crisply. “But I believe it’s back to the hardware store.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll fix your damn windows.”
“You did already.”
“Why are people using Mike as an ashtray, I’d like to know?”
“Name’s Bob, how could you forget? That’s unfeeling, Laney.”
“Dry up, Chel. Mike is the name of my security cube.”
The chrome cube, returned by the police, was resting midkitchen table, its flat top piled high with butts.
“Is that what it is? It’s bugged? The cops never said anything. Likely couldn’t figure it out.”
“A baby could figure it out.”
“Why don’t you give it to the prospective parents then?” He’d earlier seen her handing Hunt an envelope and conferring earnestly with him about something. Besides hoping that his friend had kept his life insurance up to date, Chellis was consumed with curiosity. But he hated to ask. Instead, he said, “What’s eating you, anyway?”
“Nothing!” She snatched a chip out of a bag on the table and stabbed it into a bowl of dip.
“Could have fooled me.”
“Anyone could fool you.”
“Hey, don’t choke on that, eh.”
“Get lost.”
“Look, it’s my party and you can cry if you want to. Me, I’m trying to have a good time.”
Her face took on a strained tightness, control caving, her lips began to twitch, tears crested her bottom eyelids . . . and she was gone, out of the kitchen in a shot.
Chellis ran after her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, what did I say? What is it?” Why did they have these marital spats without getting to have marital cohabitation, or any of the warm-and-cuddly fringe benefits?
She locked herself in the bathroom and wouldn’t speak. He didn’t want to hassle her further, so gave up, and walked back to the kitchen for another drink, sorely needed, as he had predicted.
Not long after, the gathering began to break up, especially since no one could get into the bathroom. Hunt and Moe had already gone, as had Mrs. Havlock. A chilly wind flowing through the open-to-the-world kitchen windows did a handy job of dispersing the diehard hangers-on, like Joe Caruso from down the street, who left with a joint tucked like a chubby pencil behind each ear. Party favours.
When Elaine reappeared, Chellis was sitting on a pop crate in the living room, rubbing his forehead and considering whether or not to take up smoking, seeing as Mike the Ashtray had an abundant supply of remainder ciggies on offer. He jumped up when she came into the room and extended his hands to her. They were buddies, were they not? She moved toward him, more abashed than angry, and said, “I’m the one who’s sorry, Chel.”
“That’s okay. You and Vaughan have a fight or something?” Impossible as that might be.
“I could strangle him.”
She sounded as though she meant it.
“We don’t do that, remember. We’re the good guys.”
“He’s not. Chelly, he’s in love.”
“I would be, too, if you were my wife.”
“With someone else.”
Chellis closed his eyes and kept them closed for a few seconds. The news did not compute. When he opened them again, he said softly, “Elaine, you’re mistaken. You’ve had a hard time, we’ve both had a hard time, all the stress of the past few weeks, the brainscrambling trauma. Come on now, infidelity? This wouldn’t happen to our uxorious Vaughan.”
“He moved out tonight. I’ve known about it for a few days.”
“Christ, you’re serious? He left you? You? Who is it? Who’s the slut, did he ’fess up?”
“It’s Ewan.”
“Who?”
“Ewan. The receptionist at the veterinarian’s. I think you’ve met him.”
“The guy with the cute bum?”
“God, not you, too!”
“I’m observant, that’s all. Had to pick up the doggies for Mrs. H the other day. Ewan was bending over to fix their collars, and, ahh . . . but this is terrible. It’s incredible. Vaughan! I’ve always admired him so much. I respect him, you know.”
“I know.”
“I can’t believe he’d do this to you. What a total jerk!”
“He’s an asshole.”
“A perfect asshole.” He paused. “I bet Ewan thinks so.”
She stared at him, giving him an instant case of gaze aversion. “Chellis, you’re making a joke? A very bad joke.”
“Um.”
“Forget it, I’m going home.”
“Don’t. You’re upset. Stay and have a drink, we’ll talk about it. I promise not to make any further use of my well-endowed wit.”
“No, I should go, I’m beat.”
“Why don’t we take a spin in my snazzy new car?”
“You have a snazzy new car?”
“Do you like me now that I have wheels? Wheels that aren’t hanging off the rims, that is?”
“Chellis,” she gave his hands a squeeze, but without applying the same amount of elbow grease to the effort that Athena had earlier. “I like you. Believe me, I do. Why else would I buy my folks’ old place?”
“Come again.”
“The house next door, I bought it. Hunt told me it was going on the market and I grabbed it. It was
a steal, you absolutely terrified your neighbours. They couldn’t leave fast enough. I’m selling the place on Hitchcock and moving in.”
Chellis was stunned. This sudden avalanche of good fortune was making him nervous. He began to tremble. He held on tighter to her in case it was all a fantasy and she melted away.
“Don’t know how I’m going to put up with your jokes, though.” Elaine smiled. “I do want to be neighbourly.”
“Be neighbourly.” He pulled her a little closer.
“You do realize, Chel, that you use your sense of humour to fend off intimacy. It keeps you at a remove, keeps you uninvolved.”
“It’s a way of not getting hurt?”
“Exactly.”
“But then if I shut up you’ll take advantage of me. You’ll slap me silly.”
“Promise I won’t.”
“There’s an easier way to stop me from cracking wise.” He pulled her closer still.
“Really? What might that be?”
“Kiss me.”
24
Kiss of Life
OH YEAH.
Acknowledgements
WHILE SIDESTEPPING the almost hysterical sense of gratitude one feels toward just about everyone on managing to arrive at this page in the composition of a novel, I would be remiss if I didn’t offer my heartfelt thanks to the home team, David Burr and Alexander Griggs-Burr, and to the fine gentlemen in literary search-and-rescue, John Metcalf and Daniel Wells. I would also like to extend my gratitude to those necessary administrative angels – long may they live! – the Ontario Arts Council and the Canada Council for the Arts.
About the Author
Terry Griggs is the author of Quickening, which was shortlisted for the Governor General’s Award, The Lusty Man, and Rogues’ Wedding, shortlisted for the Rogers Writer’s Trust Fiction Prize. Her children’s books Cat’s Eye Corner, The Silver Door, and Invisible Ink have been nominated for multiple children’s writing awards. In 2003, Terry Griggs was awarded the Marian Engel Award in recognition of a distinguished body of work. She lives in Stratford, Ontario.
About the Illustrator
Nick Craine has illustrated two acclaimed screenplay adaptations for filmmaker Bruce McDonald: Dance Me Outside: The Illustrated Screenplay and Portrait of a Thousand Punks: Hard Core Logo. His illustrations have appeared in The Washington Post, The New York Times, UTNE Reader and elsewhere. He is currently at work on a collaborative book project with author and book designer, Angel Guerra. He lives in Guelph, Ontario with his lovely family.
Copyright © Terry Griggs, 2009
Illustrations Copyright © Nick Craine, 2009
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Griggs, Terry
Thought you were dead : a novel / Terry Griggs.
eISBN : 978-1-897-23176-0
I. Title.
PS8563.R5365 T48 2009
C813’.54
C2009-900927-7
We gratefully acknowledge the support of the Canada Council for the Arts, Canadian Heritage, and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program.
PRINTED AND BOUND IN CANADA