The Mission

by Naomi Kryske

  She shivered. “It’s dark here, Colin. I don’t like the dark, but I’m learning that even in the dark, I have memory of light. I hope you’re in the light. And Colin – when they buried you, I made sure the dirt never touched you. I knew you would have hated that.” She set her flashlight on the ground for a minute so she could button her sweater. “Your mum served a wonderful dinner tonight. Her dining room is my favorite room: It’s elegant, like you, and I’ll never forget eating there for the first time and how much bluer your eyes seemed, surrounded by the muted colors of the décor. Tonight I ate so much that I already feel sleepy. I wish you were here and we could crawl into bed together.” She began to daydream. In the dark she could pretend that he would be beside her any minute, his chest bare, his arms reaching for her.

  “Jenny?” someone called, startling her. “Jenny, are you all right?” It was her mother. “Jenny, it’s chilly and dark out here. Isn’t your flashlight working? Your dad’s with me. Won’t you come in with us and have something warm to drink?”

  Jenny stood and stepped into her father’s embrace. Someone was holding her, but not the person she wanted. She fought tears all the way back to the house.

  In the morning she visited again. “Colin, I feel a little better today, and I just wanted to take a quick minute to talk to you before church. Could I honor you somehow? We both know I’d make a terrible police officer, so that’s out, and I don’t know if Sapphire uses volunteers. Do you think I need to be less specific?” She thought for a moment. “You helped people. Maybe I could find a way to do that. C.S. Lewis had his ‘jottings.’ Do you think my record of healing – my lists – could be of use to others? If I expanded them?” She smiled. “I can tell you think so. You always believed that good could come out of bad, didn’t you? I’ll think about it during the service. Easter is supposed to be about new beginnings, so maybe there will be a new start for me.”

  After church she brought Joanne with her. “Colin, I’m wearing the amethyst watch you gave me, the one with the purple hearts, to remind myself to be brave. I have to, because we’re leaving this afternoon. I wish – I wish you were going with me! Or that you’d be waiting for me in Hampstead when I arrive. I miss you so much! I never had enough time with you. My parents are packing, but your mum’s here with me, and Colin, since you died, I couldn’t have made it without her. My mom doesn’t understand all this as well as yours does. When I cried, your mum cried, too, and that made me less lonely. We’re crying now, but we’ll be all right. I don’t want you to worry.” She turned to her mother-in-law. “Joanne – Mum – it’s like losing him all over again. How do you stand it?”

  Joanne hugged her. “I feel the pain, and then I let it go,” she said. “I let life go on.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Eggs greeted Jenny upon her return to Hampstead. Not Easter eggs, however: These had been raw and the shells plain when someone had strewn them across her porch, and they had been there long enough to be rank. Her mother helped her clean the mess, and Jenny made a quick call to Constable Patrick Dugger at the Hampstead Police Station, wondering if she should have photographed the reeking refuse. Per Simon’s instructions, she had reported the earlier incidents of vandalism to PC Dugger, who didn’t look as if he were old enough to shave and hadn’t quite tamed his curly hair. The small scar on his chin, probably from a childhood accident, nevertheless gave Jenny the feeling that there was a link between them. According to him, either the vandalism, which he called “criminal damage,” wasn’t widespread or others weren’t reporting it. Probably teenagers. He encouraged her to be alert to anyone suspicious in the neighbourhood and, if she could, to pin down the time of day the incidents were occurring. He promised to have her street patrolled more frequently.

  After seeing her parents to the train station for their trip to the airport and then returning home, she called Beth. “At first it was just annoying, but now I’m getting worried,” she reported. “If this keeps up, I won’t want to leave the flat without Bear.”

  Beth had news, too. “Simon took Marcia on another holiday,” she said. “This time to Florida. Do you think they’re getting serious? Florida’s a real trip, not like popping over to Spain or France.”

  Jenny was startled. “I don’t know,” she stammered. “He never talks to me about her.”

  They exchanged Easter news. “Brian’s mum couldn’t stop feeding me,” Beth lamented. “I was never allowed to get hungry. I think I doubled my weight in that one visit! My doctor’ll not like it at all.”

  Jenny commiserated with her and then hung up, still surprised by the news about Simon and confused about why it bothered her. He had taken his girlfriend on holidays before. Maybe it was just because she felt particularly lonely, having left Colin in Kent and bidding her parents good-bye. She thumbed through the newspaper but couldn’t focus on any of the articles. There were entirely too many ads for rings and other romantic jewelry. She tossed the rest of the paper aside and decided to go to bed early.

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  Before locking her door in the morning she glanced up and down the street for anyone who looked questionable, but the street was deserted. Bear had loved romping and running in Kent, so she took him for a long walk on the Heath, which she had come to regard as a kind of oasis. The large houses of Hampstead always seemed to speak to her of families, but people often walked by themselves on the Heath, and the people who passed by didn’t notice or respond to her sad face. On their outing she and Bear passed a mother with a little boy so new to walking that he wobbled with each small step. His progress could be measured, however, while she couldn’t tell if she’d made any headway at all. She looked for Jack and his grandmother, wondering if he had made any improvement, but didn’t see them.

  Back at the flat, Bear had a long drink of water and then settled down for a nap in his bed. She felt tired, too, but not physically. The visit to Kent and her talks with Colin had taken a toll on her emotions. She understood that she could not hold onto him forever when he was not here, but she was not sure exactly what her next step should be.

  She stretched out her left hand, admiring the rings Colin had given her. Her engagement ring had been his mother’s, a delicate design with one raised diamond and several smaller ones surrounding it. He had insisted that her wedding band contain diamonds also. Taken together, these rings were a tangible sign of their love and their vows. “As long as we both shall live,” they had pledged. But they weren’t both living. Was it time for her to remove them? No. She still loved him. And he still wore his ring.

  But they weren’t still married. Were they? She slipped them off and inspected her hand: plain, bare. She didn’t like it at all. If she didn’t wear them, was it the equivalent of saying good-bye? She put them back on. Maybe she could spend some time each day without them as a way of adjusting. She could set the alarm clock for fifteen minutes in the morning and fifteen minutes in the evening. It didn’t have to be an all-or-nothing decision.

  CHAPTER 27

  Morning dawned, and Jenny was eager for another walk with Bear. After breakfast, she opened her door, Bear beside her on his leash, and was greeted by another mess on her porch. Was it her imagination, or were the incidents occurring more often? She knelt down. Black rose petals? At least this cleanup wouldn’t be as difficult as some of the others. She swept them into the flowerbeds. Should she go out? Yes, of course: Bear was with her. Nevertheless she stopped just outside the door and looked to her left and right.

  It took them longer than usual to reach the Heath because Jenny slowed as she passed each home to determine if other porches had been similarly soiled. None had, on either side of her street, and the pots of flowers that many homeowners used to decorate their front entries were untouched. She and Bear entered the Heath from East Heath Road, and she had difficulty deciding which of the paths that snaked through the trees to take. She heard a man’s voice behind her and stiffened, but he was addressing his companion:
“The last time we were here, remember? So damp. So much nicer in the sun, don’t you think? Hope it lasts.” She waited for them to pass before turning back. In her distracted frame of mind, she could have become lost, and the Heath didn’t have “Way Out” signs like the tube stations.

  She stayed in the rest of the day, feeling alternately jumpy and then silly for being affected by the occasional litter at her door. As the police constable had said, no one had approached her directly, so there was no need to be afraid. Teenagers.

  Late in the afternoon she was surprised to hear from the coroner, Dr. Millar, requesting her presence at a meeting to be held in his office. “We’ve begun a new programme,” he said, “and we’re seeking feedback from family members and witnesses with regard to its effectiveness.” She made a note of the date, time, and location.

  She was still uneasy when Simon came by after dinner. “It’s beginning to feel personal, and I can’t figure out why. Does someone want to frighten me? And why me? Anyway, PC Dugger probably thinks I’m losing it. He’ll call his report, ‘Continued Cleanup Unhinges Hampstead Woman.’”

  Simon smiled and accepted the beer she offered.

  She poured a glass of wine for herself and sat down in the armchair across from him. “Don’t these situations usually escalate?”

  “Take Bear with you when you go out,” he suggested.

  “I do, but I can’t take him everywhere. Simon, I want a weapon.”

  “Best if you leave the weapons to the professionals.”

  “I’ve fired guns before. Rifles. My dad used to hunt.”

  “No, Jenny. It’s not allowed.”

  She set her glass on the table. “Simon, why did you go to Florida?”

  Her abrupt turn of subject startled him a bit. “What?”

  “Florida. Beth said you went to Florida. Why?”

  “For a holiday,” he said carefully, aware of the edge in her voice. Bear heard it as well and whined softly.

  “With Marcia?”

  Damn Beth. “Yes.”

  “For how long?”

  “Jenny, that’s none of yours.”

  She released her hold on Bear’s collar and folded her fingers into fists. Bear whined again. “You took her to my country!” she cried, her eyes blazing.

  “I’ll have none of this, Jenny,” he said, his voice cold and firm.

  “Why there? Of all places! Wasn’t France romantic enough? Or Italy?”

  Where was she going with this? And why?

  His eyes were an uncompromising blue, his nose a little wider than the classic Greek profile, and his upper lip slightly narrower than his lower. When he was angry with her, as he was now, both lips became equal candidates for the Thin Feature of the Year. And he was tan, from the Florida sun, which made her madder. “Damn it, Simon, how could you?”

  He stood suddenly, and Bear barked. “I didn’t come here for this, Jenny!”

  She also rose to her feet, her chin uplifted, her shoulders raised, leaning forward slightly on the balls of her feet. Was her posture intended to make her look tall and imposing? If he hadn’t been so angry, he’d have laughed.

  “What did you come for? What do you ever come for? Why do you bother?” she yelled over Bear’s howl.

  “Leave it, Jenny!” he shouted back.

  “No, you leave it! Just leave! Go away!”

  He slammed the door behind him, and she burst into tears, shocked at her own behavior, frightened by his, and unable to understand why she had caused it on her birthday.

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  Simon reached the tube station in half the time it usually took, but his increased pace didn’t ease his temper. Why had Jenny gone off on him like that? He’d done nothing to warrant her anger. And it wasn’t like her, being stroppy. The sterling silver bookmark he’d brought for her birthday was still in his pocket. He’d had the top engraved with her initial, a floral J, so he couldn’t return it. Bloody hell.

  The Florida trip with Marcia hadn’t gone as well as he had hoped, although Jenny couldn’t know that. He had wanted to relax, reconnect, recharge. Marcia had wanted to make plans. Since their return, his schedule had been grueling. He had no patience with Marcia’s demands. And now Jenny. He was most comfortable in situations where the rules of engagement were clear. With women they weren’t. Perhaps he should quit the lot of them.

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  In the morning he had a voice mail from Jenny. “Simon, I don’t know what came over me. Anyway, I’m sorry.”

  The next day she left another. “I was out of line. It was my birthday, but that’s no excuse. I’m ashamed. Please forgive me. I miss you. Bear misses you.”

  On the third day, her message was: “Simon, I’m tired of these one-sided conversations, but I’m not going to grovel.” There was a pause, then she continued. “Yes, I am. Please call back. You mean a lot to me.”

  He didn’t delete her calls, instead listening to each one more than once. He heard something in Jenny’s Texas drawl that he had never heard in Marcia’s voice: need. No longer exasperated, details of her appearance came back to him, her pearl cross swinging free from her shirt when she leant forward, the tiny diamond studs in her ears, her bare wrists and – hands. She had not been wearing her rings.

  CHAPTER 28

  Alcina had always loved being photographed. Many times when Tony was earning good money and she had both the figure and the clothes to attract the attention of other men, she had wished someone with a camera would step forward to record her appearance. Now, with Tony in prison and her life in such difficult straits, she rarely felt attractive. Fortunately that mattered less to her than it had before. Her focus – she smiled grimly at her word choice – had changed.

  It was important to have goals in life, and she had one. The dozens of photos she had taken with her camera recorded each element in her siege, as well as snaps of her target with and without her dog, her target’s house, her target window shopping, with carrier-bags, on the High Street, in the rain. Generals planned each attack, didn’t they? Kept track of each outcome? They gathered intelligence to increase their chances of success. They sent spies behind enemy lines. She was doing the same. Her map of her target’s neighbourhood marked each home, its entrance and exit, the driveways with walled fences, and the trees or other places that would conceal her. She varied her approach, the frequency of her strikes, and her method. She was thorough and proud of it.

  At Kosta’s she continued to open the wine bottles before bringing them to the tables so she could have a little taste of the beverage. She deserved a reward for her persistence, her ability to carry through. Each small swallow was her own private celebration of the actions she had taken and a toast to the ones she would take in the future. Actions that were hers and hers alone.

  She had also begun collecting scraps for the dog. Unfortunately most nights there was no sign of him when she neared her flat, but she left the food near the skip where she had first seen him. Perhaps if he found it, he would stay in the area. She would have to win him over, of course, and then find a way to disable him that would work equally well with her target’s animal. She had been successful so far in everything she had attempted; she would be in this also.

  CHAPTER 29

  “Mrs. Sinclair,” the coroner said, “thank you for coming.” He gestured to one of the empty chairs in his office. “My name is David Millar. Would it be acceptable to you if we addressed each other by first names during this interview?”

  Jenny wasn’t sure she wanted to be on a first-name basis with a coroner. “Where is everybody? I thought you wanted me to attend a meeting.”

  Millar smiled and shook his head. “I’m sorry if I didn’t make myself clear. Where possible, I’ll be handling the interviews individually. We don’t want one person’s opinions to influence another’s. We’re mailing the survey to those persons who live an inconvenient distance away or who cannot leave work
for a non-compulsory summons. If you’ll have a seat, we’ll begin by completing a brief questionnaire.”

  The British plural, she thought, understanding that she, singular, would answer the questions. Her name, contact information, inquest she had attended, specific role at the inquest, and types of assistance given by the Coroner’s Court Support Service (CCSS) representative were the preliminary queries.

  “Tea?” he asked when she handed him the form. “I can have my secretary bring you a cup.”

  Every inch of his desk was covered with files and stacks of documents, and her paperwork would just add to the disarray. Personally, however, he was very neat, with close-cropped dark hair, straight brows, and long, slim fingers. He was preternaturally pale, and she tried not to think of the work that required him to be indoors. “No, thank you.”

  “If you’ll indulge me, then, I’d like to give you a little background. Coroners are one of the oldest offices in English jurisprudence, dating from September, 1194. To become a coroner, one must have both medical and legal training and at least five years’ experience.”

  Another old English tradition, Jenny thought, but a fairly young proponent: Dr. Millar was just in his early forties. Maybe it would help if she thought of him as an officer of the court rather than someone who investigated death.