Chapter 4
Untimely Disclosure
Al Kufra Oasis, Libya – Late July, 1970
From his perch beneath the palm tree, Wassim was as comfortable as could possibly be in the mid-afternoon searing heat. In his more than half a century of life, he had learned how to survive in such an inhospitable environment, his small flock of sheep providing just enough income to support his wife and children. All things considered, he’d much rather be here than in some city like Tripoli. True, in Tripoli the winds from the Mediterranean cooled the daylight hours somewhat, but cities were to be avoided at all costs.
He had been to Tripoli once many years ago, shortly before the war. Having had the wanderlust of youth, he had made the long and arduous trek across the desert when he was twenty, the possibility of paid travel far too expensive for one so poor. On arrival in the enormous city, his dreams had been quickly dashed, as his miniscule stash of money had been stolen by a street urchin on his very first day in so-called “civilization”. He had managed to hang on for a few days further, but only long enough to be certain that he never wanted to be in such a disgusting place ever again.
On his return to Al Kufra shortly thereafter, he had embraced the desert lifestyle, and never again had he ever pondered the thought of leaving his beloved birthplace. And though Libya had changed dramatically over the succeeding thirty years and more, their newly installed leader Muammar Gaddafi had shown no interest whatsoever in the far-flung village of Al Kufra.
As his mind wandered on that stifling afternoon, his eyes strayed reflexively to the distant eastern horizon. Al Kufra being on the trail that led from the Western Desert of Egypt, he’d spotted many caravans over the course of a lifetime. But these sightings were nonetheless rare enough to always draw his attention, at least in part because of the threat they might pose to the people of the small oasis.
Suddenly, his eyes focusing intently, he spotted a nearly indiscernible object. Although it was perhaps fifteen miles distant, there it nevertheless was again, a miniscule reflection in the late afternoon sun. There was something moving out there, of that he was certain. Calculating to himself, he reasoned that if it was a caravan, it would take at least two hours for them to arrive if they were moving rapidly, but that time might be doubled if their progress was somewhat slower. Checking the sun, he determined that the travelers would most likely arrive near sunset, time enough for him to make the necessary preparations.
Two hours later, having forewarned the members of the local militia, he was back at his perch beneath the palm tree, his sheep safely put away in the small fenced enclosure. Searching yet again in the selfsame direction, he raised his hand to shield the sunlight, and what he saw through his binoculars astonished him. Not four miles distant he observed a single camel, it’s rider coming on at a rapid pace. Wassim could not recall the last time a lone traveler had arrived from the East, and this one would arrive in less than an hour at Al Kufra.
Shortly before sunset, Wassim awaiting dutifully together with three other men, the obviously weary traveler drew near. To make it clear that they were not to be toyed with, the four of them displayed their rifles prominently, though the rider was still several hundred yards distant. Minutes later, the camel trudging directly towards them, they were unsurprised to see that he was indeed in dire condition. Tumbling in a surprisingly unskilled manner from the camel’s back some distance away, he halted and called to them, “Good day, sirs. I say, I mean you no harm. By the grace of Allah, may I then be allowed to come forward?”
His accent was strange, but his command of Arabic was perfect. And his polite demeanor somehow ensured Wassim that he indeed meant them no harm. Besides, he appeared to be in no condition to cause trouble, thereby leading Wassim to respond officiously, “Please, come forward, sir. We welcome you to Al Kufra. How may we be of assistance to you?”
“Praise Allah! You are most kind,” the traveler responded in apparent exhaustion and, trudging forward, he explained, “I am in need of medical assistance, as I am sure you can tell. Might there be someone here who can provide that? I haven’t eaten for days, and my water supply ran out two days ago.”
“Certainly, sir, we shall provide whatever you may need,” Wassim responded but, his curiosity getting the better of him, he inquired, “If I may be so bold, whatever are you doing traveling across the desert by yourself?”
Arriving at their side, the traveler glanced directly at Wassim. His pale blue eyes now piercing Wassim to the core, he replied cautiously, “Sir, I was indeed not alone. My traveling companions and I set out from Al Uwaynat two weeks ago. Along the way, both of them became ill, from what mysterious malady I do not know, but within three days both of them were dead. In the ensuing confusion, their camels escaped, leaving me alone and lost in the desert.”
“My, that is terrible news, sir,” Wassim observed and, pressing forward a goat skin filled with water, he inquired, “I take it then that you are not from these parts?”
The traveler accepted the proffered container and, after taking a long drink, he swiped one hand across his mouth and responded, “No, sir not at all. I am from Saudi Arabia. This is my first time to come this far west. But with the good grace of Allah, it seems that I shall survive to see another day.”
“Ah, just so, just so…” Wassim observed wistfully, and then he announced officiously, “I, sir, am Wassim Al-Jawf. Whom may I have the pleasure of speaking to?”
“I am Abdullah Al-Khoury, at your service, sir.”
London – September, 1995
For Elspeth, London was absolutely surreal. It’s said that one either absolutely loves London or hates it, and Elspeth definitely fell into the former group. Her studies began smashingly, but the city itself was the main attraction for her. She absolutely couldn’t get enough of it. The first few weeks she spent every waking moment doing her best to learn all she could about the city. Despite seemingly starting all over, she was in a subliminal state. In what little spare time she could afford, she toured The Tower of London, the National Gallery, Whitehall, Buckingham Palace, Westminster Abbey, and St. Paul’s Cathedral.
Early October
Her studies notwithstanding, Elspeth set out on a journey one warm Saturday morning, her intended destination beyond any distant place she had chanced to visit thus far. She’d always had a fancy for historical applications of mathematics, so it seemed right to set out for Greenwich, where modern timekeeping had been more or less put in place. She could have taken the tube, but it was such a lovely day that she decided to take a river launch from Tower Bridge. The boat was nearly deserted, making the voyage even more appealing, so that by the time it docked downriver, she was in quite the perfect mood.
She then made straight for the observatory, wherein she was absolutely entranced by John Harrison’s clocks. Perhaps they weren’t so much about mathematics, but they certainly had a great deal to do with the accurate application of both mathematics and physics, thus explaining her joy at seeing something of such profound historical significance. In truth, Harrison’s invention had made the deployment of Newton’s Laws all the more auspicious.
Having satisfied herself regarding all of the items at the observatory, she departed and made for her return to London. Still, she was wont to return so quickly, so that she found a quite lovely pub near the docks that seemed just right for a luncheon of fish and chips. Once inside she felt a bit overwhelmed by the overwrought gayety of the locals but, camping out at a somewhat remote corner table, she began to feel an upwelling of joy that so often is borne by simply observing others enjoying themselves.
And then, from the corner of her eye, she spotted him. Apparently he had seen her first, for he was headed directly towards her. As he approached, she offered matter-of-factly, “Hello, Connor. What brings you to Greenwich on such a lovely day?”
“Hello, Elspeth! I say, this is quite the surprise. What on earth are you doing in London?”
>
“I’m in graduate school at Imperial College. And if my suspicions are correct, you already knew that.”
“I suppose I did. I shall not attempt to lie to you, Elspeth.”
“Right. Well, seeing as how you’ve managed to track me down, you may as well have a seat.”
“Thank you, Elspeth. It would mean quite a lot to me to have lunch with you.”
“I didn’t offer to dine with you, Connor.”
“Oh, sorry. Then what did you have in mind?”
“Just answer a few questions for me, if you will.”
“Certainly, how can I be of service to you?”
“What happened at Harvard three years ago, Connor? You wrote that you were expelled from school.”
“Yes, I was…”
“Why ever on earth for, Connor?”
“They claimed that I altered a grade in one of my courses.”
“My, my, shame on you, Connor!”
“I said claimed, Elspeth. On my honor as a Scotsman, I did no such thing!”
At this she eyed him suspiciously and blurted, “From what I know of you, you are every bit capable of such deplorable behavior.”
“I thought you’d say that,” he responded and, glaring at her, he began to rise from his seat, in the process adding, “I’m sorry, I see I’ve wasted my time. I shall bid you good day.”
“SIT!” she commanded, and then, “Sit back down, you asshole! You’ve obviously gone to great lengths to locate me, perhaps even following me to school here in London, so speak your piece, Connor Stuart. For my part, I promise to withhold judgment until I’ve heard your side of the story.”
Halting in mid-rise, he frowned and then, sliding slowly back into his seat, he murmured doubtfully, “Thanks ever so much, at least, I think!”
Matching his own stony glare, she responded, “Please – proceed. I am all ears.”
“Alright. Let me see…where to begin. Right, as I recall, it was the Monday after that appalling party – you know – the night we played strip poker.”
“What does that mean?” she eyed him dubiously.
“Why, surely you recall the night we all played strip poker all those years ago. I had no idea what Farhan was up to. But you had him cornered from the very start. I was certain you’d never even start to play strip poker, but I detected that impish smile of yours right from the start – you had a trick up your sleeve that night – I’m sure of it, and I’ve been wondering what it was ever since. So give it up, Elspeth – what the hell happened that night? Surely you didn’t play on the offhand chance that you might get to see me naked!”
At this she actually giggled, the absurdity of it taking her back to that strange night when her adoration for him had first begun to wane. Her visage now changing noticeably, she rejoined, “So you weren’t the source of the ploy?”
“Ploy, what ploy, Elspeth? Please stop messing around with me and just tell me what happened that night.”
“So you really don’t know?”
“Are you kidding? I was totally blasted – drunk as a skunk, as they say.”
“Okay, I’ll settle for that for the moment. So this is how I remember it – I thought that you and Farhan were trying to get me naked, for what reason I had no idea at the time. For my part, I feared that if I didn’t play the girls would lose, and then where would that leave Anna and me? So I decided to play so that we would win.”
“But how could you know that you’d win?”
“You forget, I’m a mathematician, Connor.”
“So?”
“Connor, Connor…ever since I was a child I could remember all the cards in one, two, even three decks of cards. Why do you think I became a math nerd? I have a gift for digital memory.”
“Ah, so you cheated. I figured you’d cheated…I just didn’t know quite how you did it!”
“I beg to differ! I did NOT cheat! Counting cards is perfectly legal.”
“Well, er…not in Vegas…”
“But we were not in Las Vegas, you fool!”
“Okay, okay - so you didn’t cheat – I stand corrected. You were just a bit shady, or perhaps you forgot…””
“How could I ever forget? You showed off your family jewels to God and country that night, you bastard.”
“Just so, Elspeth. Just so,” he replied in obvious embarrassment. “I can only say this – had you not decided to play, I wouldn’t have done so either. But I was indeed quite inebriated, or I would have removed myself from the game before it got out of hand. Still, I have no excuse for my behavior that night. I assure you, I have never behaved thusly before or since.”
“A likely story,” she responded doubtfully, “But I digress. We were discussing your expulsion from Harvard.”
Seeing no escaping her line of questioning, he admitted, “At any rate, at the end of the term I was called to the Dean’s Office, whereupon evidence was presented to me indicating that I had stolen a change of grade slip, forged a change of grade, and submitted it to the registrar’s office.’
“My, my, why am I not surprised?”
“Elspeth, please – you must believe me – I never did any such thing. In all honesty, I am entirely incapable of such dishonorable behavior.”
Shaking her head derisively, she replied, “It seems entirely in character to me.”
“What! Surely you can’t mean that!”
“I can and I most certainly do!” she shot back in obvious disgust.
“Why ever for?”
“Are you asking me to believe that you don’t know why?” and seeing his apparent confusion, she blurted, “Alright then, I’ll tell you why. First, you dragged me off to New York and attempted to seduce me. Then, having failed to do so, you dreamt up a party for the purpose of getting me to strip in front of a whole group of strangers. I ask you, Connor, is that the behavior of a person of good character?”
“What! Surely you can’t believe that, Elspeth!” At her stony glare, he realized that she in fact did, thereby prompting him to exclaim, “First off, I didn’t drag you to New York for the purpose of seducing you! As I recall, it was you yourself who suggested the trip, and if my guess is correct, you were also in love with me!”
“What! I was also in love with you? What are you saying, Connor Stuart?”
Realizing his gaff, he stared silently at her a moment, then admitted, “I was in love with you, Elspeth. Surely you knew that.” And at this, he turned his eyes downwards and stared at the table in embarrassment.
“Oh, hell,” she blurted in exasperation, “Then why on earth did you try to seduce me?”
“I thought you wanted me to!”
“Oh, good grief! Supposing for a moment that I did, that’s no reason to organize that heinous strip poker party, Connor!”
“I did no such thing, Elspeth! I tried to stop it! Surely you remember that I did so.”
“If as you claim you attempted to stop it, then why didn’t you?”
“Because you were still mad at me for my mistake on the trip to New York, that’s why. I tried to stop you at the party, but you were furious with me. So I decided to go along, but I at no time had any expectations of seeing you naked that night.”
“And you never could!”
“So if I understand correctly, you knew all along that you couldn’t possibly lose. Instead, you let me lose! My God…” he blurted in confusion.
“Right. But I never actually thought you’d go through with it. Anyway, serves you right for trying to seduce me in New York, you pervert!”
“Pervert! You’ve got this all wrong, Elspeth, can’t you see that?”
“If I’m wrong, then who altered your grade, Connor? Just answer me that!”
“I’ve thought about it ever since, Elspeth, and the truth is, I can only think of one possibility – Farhan.”
“Farhan! Why ever would he do such a thing?”
“I can only think of one reason.”
&n
bsp; “Ah, and what might that be?”
“Tell me this, Elspeth – after I left Boston, did he ever ask you out?”
“Well, er, not really, although he did ask me out for coffee once.”
“Touché!”
“Surely you can’t be serious, Connor! He was interested in Anna!”
“That may be, but he always acted a bit strangely around you, like he wanted something.”
“Like what?”
“No idea, but it’s the only alternative I’ve been able to conjure up.”
“That’s really weak, Connor.”
“Tell me this, Elspeth – did he get anywhere with you?”
“Of course not! Wait a minute – he said that he had corresponded with you, and that you wanted him to go out with me!”
“That’s ridiculous. I’ve neither seen nor heard from Farhan since I left Harvard in 1992.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I assure you, I am not!”
“This can’t be true,” she pondered to herself.
“So what happened to him, Elspeth?”
“No idea. He simply left school at the end of his sophomore year at Harvard. Why?”
“Well, I have an idea - I think I may know what happened to him.”
“Go ahead.”
“I think that he stole an entire pad of change of grade slips. I think that he not only altered my grade, but he also altered several of his own grades, and he eventually got caught.”
“What on earth are you blabbing about – stolen grade slips, altering grades – such things simply do not happen!”
“Perhaps not, but I do know one thing for certain.”
“What’s that?”
“I took a class with Farhan, and he failed it.”
“What! I thought he was a really good student. Didn’t he say he graduated at the top of his class in Asyut?”
“Yeah, that’s what he wanted everyone to believe, but the truth is he rarely went to class, and his exam scores in the class I had with him were at the bottom of the class.”
“Are you telling me that Farhan Rahman is dishonest?”
“Yes. And not only that, I’m quite certain that he arranged the strip poker party that night, Elspeth.”
“What makes you say that?”
“The day after the party, I caught Billy in the dorm hallway. I asked him why he proposed the game of strip poker. You know what he said? He said it was Farhan’s idea, and that he paid Billy to propose the game!”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope! And not only that, he said that the four girls Farhan brought along that night were planted – that they’d all been paid by Farhan to strip off.”
“Good grief!” Elspeth exclaimed. “This is all really too much, Connor!”
All he could think of to say was, “Yeah, I know…”
She stared at him in disbelief for a few moments, but then she exclaimed, “And you’ve been waiting all this time to tell me this, haven’t you?”
“Well, er, no…I mean…yes, I suppose I have. Look, Elspeth, I admit that I knew you were accepted for studies at Imperial College. I also admit that I applied to the London School of Economics in the hope that I might see you again, but you must believe me when I say that my intentions were at no time dishonorable. I simply hoped that I might see you again one day, that I might have the opportunity to make amends.”
At this admission, she stared at him in disbelief and suggested, “And you followed me here today, didn’t you.”
Lowering his head in supplication, he admitted, “Yes, I am embarrassed to say – of that I am guilty as charged.”
The pair glared at one another a few moments longer and then, rising slowly from her seat, she murmured carefully, “Connor, you’ll have to excuse me. This is all too much for me. I must have time to reflect. I hope that you shall understand.”
“Yes, of course,” he responded miserably, but she had already begun to make her way to the door.
Two Months Later
A cold and grey dankness had descended upon London, but Elspeth was in dire need of a distraction. Her studies were at times overwhelming, and her unanticipated reunion with Connor two months earlier continued to weigh heavily on her thoughts. At first she had refused to believe his story, choosing instead to believe that he had conjured it all up as a means of regaining her affections. But as time had progressed, more and more of his explanation had seemed to make sense. She really would have liked to have been able to verify some part of it, but transcripts at Harvard were not public records. Furthermore, she had no idea what Billy’s last name was, so there was no way to obtain confirmation of any of it. Finally, there was the undeniable fact that Farhan was guilty of both making advances toward her and of beating Anna. She eventually came to the realization that whether it was true or not there was scant opportunity for her to ever prove it one way or the other. She was therefore going to have to choose to either believe or disbelieve Connor.
Elspeth set out on a long walk on a foggy Saturday morning in hopes that the misty cold weather would somehow help her to clear her mind. Taking the tube to Waterloo Station, she stopped for a spot of coffee, and then she set off walking toward the city center, in the process crossing Waterloo Bridge. And, just as that time before, she saw him crossing the bridge in her direction. But this time she seemed to spot him first, so that she might have had the chance to escape unnoticed under cover of the fog. But she decided on the spur of the moment to see it through, and when he came close enough, she called to him matter-of-factly, “I thought I might see you here, Connor Stuart.”
Jerking his downturned head up in surprise, he blurted, “Elspeth! Elspeth Moorehead. I expected to never see you again, and here, after little more than two months, I chance upon you in this God-awful London fog. I ask you, what are the chances of that?”
Emitting a nearly unnoticeable giggle, she responded, “Small, perhaps, but certainly not nil, for we would not at this moment be speaking to one another, would we now?”
Chancing to move a bit closer, he responded doubtfully, “I suppose not, but what on earth are you doing out in this abominable London weather, Elspeth? It is such a dismal day.”
“Oh, I was in desperate need of distraction. I suppose a walk seemed like a good idea, at least it did when I started out. And you, what brings you out on such a dreadful morning, Connor?”
“Who, me? I was just out for a lark. Needed some time away from the books, you know. LSE is quite the difficult school, if you must know. I was just on the point of going out of my mind, and there being no other reasonable alternative, I went for playing hooky from the books for a day.”
“How’s that working for you, Connor?”
“Lovely, I must say. And now that I’ve run into you, I would perhaps hope even better. And you? How’ve you been since last we met?”
“Fabulous!” she lied unconvincingly, “Absolutely fabulous – London is such a wonderful city, and Imperial College is just the perfect place for me to continue my studies.”
He eyed her carefully for a moment, but then, throwing caution to the wind, he suggested, “Elspeth – this may be a bit presumptuous of me, but might I persuade you to allow me to join you for lunch, just for old time’s sake?” And, not waiting for a reply, he added nervously, “It would be my honor to buy for the both of us.”
Peering suspiciously at him, she contemplated for a moment, but then she responded airily, “Why not – after all, it’s such a beautiful day!”
Catching the irony in her response, he nonetheless blurted gaily, “Oh, thank you! Thank you, dear Elspeth. I shall endeavor to not try your patience.”
In the end, it turned out to be a small reunion of sorts, and when they parted Elspeth let slip that they should perhaps do it again sometime. His eyes lighting up in excitement, Connor pled, “Certainly! Could I get your phone number?” to which Elspeth relented.
Two Weeks Later
Answering the clanging phone within her tiny apartment, Elspeth blurted, “Yes, who is speaking?”
“Elspeth,” the voice on the other end responded, “It is I, Connor.”
“Oh, uh…hello, Connor,” she responded and, after a lengthy silence, she inquired, “What’s up?”
“Er, I just thought…well, when we met two weeks ago you said that we should do it again sometime,” he posited, but then, his hesitation apparent, he continued, “Oh, perhaps you were just being polite – perhaps I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry, Elspeth, I shall wish you a pleasant day. Goodbye…”
“Not so fast, Connor!” she cried into the phone in sudden desperation, “What’s on your mind? Spit it out!”
“Oh, nothing,” he stammered, “I was just hoping we might get together again. You know, for coffee or something…”
“Or something…” she repeated curtly, “Well, I’m afraid I’m all coffeed out for the moment. Tell you what though, I’ve been wanting to see the Rosetta Stone ever since I arrived in London. But, you know how it is, I’d rather not go there alone…”
“Oh, I say, I’d love to accompany you to the British Museum, Elspeth! That would be grand!”
“Well, then how about this coming Saturday?”
“Yes, of course. Shall we meet at the entrance at, say, eleven o’clock?”
“Perfect,” she responded noncommittally, but then she suggested, “And perhaps you can treat me to lunch thereafter?”
“Oh, could I?” he blurted in stupefied anticipation.
“Of course you may,” she said, somehow transmitting her smile right through the phone line.
“Excellent. Then I shall see you on Saturday. Bye, Elspeth!”
“Goodbye Connor.”
The Following Saturday
Tugging the door open to the pub, Connor gushed, “Well, I should say that was quite a tour, wouldn’t you, Elspeth?”
“Yes, of course,” she exclaimed, “The Rosetta Stone was marvelous, and the Elgin marbles were marbelous!”
“Ooh, that was a really bad one,” he grinned but, his eyebrow arched in derision, he blabbed, “Just like old times, eh?”
Tugging him by the arm, she dragged him closer to her, then whispered, “We’re just getting started, you know…”
Astonishment readily apparent in his visage, he responded with false bravado, “I can live with that.”
But then she did something that signaled to him that the past was perhaps really behind them – she kissed him lightly on the cheek. Pulling back in surprise, he inquired dimly, “My…what was that for, Elspeth?”
“Connor, I’m actually not quite certain why I did it. It just felt like the thing to do. Oh, damn nation, I suppose I’ve missed you. I’ve missed the way we were, the two of us. I don’t know that I’ve ever been happier than those times we had together.”
At this Connor stared wretchedly at her and murmured, “You’ve no idea, Elspeth. I’m so ashamed, and so unhappy. Ever since that night I’ve wanted to turn back time, but I suppose it isn’t possible, is it?”
“I don’t know…” she stammered but, turning her face to his, she offered, “I doubt it, to be honest.”
“Right,” he responded knowingly.
“But,” she posited, “I do so want to – to turn back time. And I am ever so grateful to you for trying, Connor.”
“Really?” he inquired hopefully.
“Yes, but let’s not make more of it than it is. Let’s just give it time. Can you do that?”
At this he peered at her and responded gratefully, “Yes, of course, dear Elspeth. You are worth any amount of time, I assure you.”
Two Weeks Later
Elspeth contemplated a moment further, then grasped the phone in her hand. Dialing the number, she decided it was time for her to take a chance. Hearing a voice on the other end, she said, “Connor, it’s Elspeth. Are you free this weekend?” And after a pause, she added, “Really?” That’s wonderful! I was thinking of taking the train to Bath on Saturday. Want to come along?” Hearing the response, she said, “Right then, see you at the train station at 9 A.M. Oh, and bring an overnight bag. See you soon! Bye.”
Bath - The Following Saturday
The pair sat at a corner table within the Pump Room, obviously deep in convivial conversation.
“I thought the Roman baths were spectacular, Connor. What did you think?”
For his part, Connor responded, “I don’t know, Elspeth, I rather enjoyed the view of the river.”
“Yes, there is that,” she replied, and then, touching his hand with hers, she whispered suggestively, “It’s all rather romantic; somehow reminiscent of a Jane Austen novel, don’t you think?”
“Being as I am from Scotland, I am rather more of a Walter Scott fan,” he offered garrulously, “But I confess I do see what you mean.”
Observing that her subtle pass had been far too oblique for her traveling companion, she replied, “Walter Scott! Oh, pshaw! Rob Roy, and all that balderdash. Why don’t we have a quiet dinner and then we can debate the merits of nineteenth century British authors afterwards at the inn.”
“Sounds perfect to me,” Connor responded vacuously.
Two hours later, the pair pushed their collective way into their flat for the night, and it was apparent that the both of them had imbibed perhaps one too many glasses of wine.
Tugging the door closed behind her, Elspeth drew Connor to her and applied an absolutely searing kiss to his all-too-appealing lips. Then, drawing back, she whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do that for days, no weeks, no years, dear Connor Stuart.”
“My goodness, where did that come from?” he queried inanely.
Sensing hesitation, she drew back and stared at him. At length she commanded, “Don’t tell me you haven’t been thinking the selfsame thing, and for the longest time!”
“Right,” he responded inimitably, “I suppose there is that.”
“What else could there be?” she inquired.
Eyeing her wistfully, he put in, “Well, I should say…well…perhaps that is for another day, dear Elspeth.”
“What? What is for another day?”
“Oh, nothing. Suppose we address the issue at hand.”
“And what might that be?”
“What to do about the fact that there is only a single bed for the two of us.”
“Oh, that,” she observed distractedly, but then she whispered, “Sssh, don’t tell anyone, but I requested a single bed. And I brought along my most revealing nightgown.”
“Ah, I see! Why, you naughty girl. I believe I’ve been had!”
“Actually, no, you gorgeous boy, but you are most certainly about to be. Just give me a moment within the bathroom, and you shall both have and be had.”
And he most certainly was.
The Following Morning – In Route to London
Elspeth stared from the train window, a vain attempt to cover her sense of embarrassment.
Observing her apparent misery, Connor at length offered, “Sorry, Elspeth. I’m afraid I took advantage of you last night.”
Turning to face him, she exclaimed, “Ha! What a crock. It’s I who took advantage of you last night! I wanted your ass, and I sure as heck got it. And now, for some reason I wish I hadn’t!”
“I’m truly sorry, Elspeth. Was it that awfully disappointing for you?”
Turning to stare at him yet again, she posited, “Are you kidding me? Surely you could tell…”
“Tell what?”
“Tell how much I enjoyed it, damn your gorgeous hide! How am I going to concentrate on my studies after what we two did to one another last night! You nasty little boy, you. I just may be addicted to you. And now, in the cold light of day, I have to return to my mundane existence deriving god-awful mathematical equations.”
“Er, sorry…” he blurted, but it was obvious from his grin that he was anything but.
O
bserving his triumphant visage, she stared from the train window and murmured distantly, “Don’t talk to me. Don’t you dare say another word. I’m going home to my flat in London, and I don’t want to hear a peep from you. Do you hear me, you smug son-of-a-bitch?”
Eyeing her in mystification, he simply nodded his submission.
A Month Later
Connor’s phone rang and, dragging the receiver to his ear, he mumbled, “Connor Stuart.”
“Get your ass over here,” a voice on the other end exclaimed, “I need you, and I mean now, you son-of-a-bitch!”
Immediately recognizing the voice on the other end, he responded contritely, “I’d begun to think you’d forgotten me, Elspeth.”
“Forgotten you! You bastard. I can’t seem to think of anything else. My math skills have completely escaped me. I can think of nothing else but you. Now get over here and take me out of my misery.
“Yes, Elspeth, I shall be there within the hour.”
The Following Morning
Elspeth rolled over and, observing the sun glinting on his naked torso, the breath rushed audibly from her lips.
The sound awakening him, he rolled over to discern her sunny smile taking him in. Smiling to himself, he whispered groggily, “Good morning, Elspeth. Did I miss anything?”
“No, but had you not awakened this moment, you might have,” she emitted from beneath her penetrating kiss. And then she raised up before him and, her naked body eliciting exactly the reaction that she had intended, she whispered softly, “Again, please.”
Boston – Christmas, 1995
Elspeth’s grandmother met her at the airport, a welcome site after such a long flight. The fall term had ended at Imperial College, and Gran had made it clear that she was in desperate need of Elspeth’s company for the holiday. Happy to simply be away from the educational grind for a few days, Elspeth was in an unusually festive mood on arrival back in her hometown.
The pair kicked off the holiday by doing some Christmas shopping in downtown but, the shopping crowds quickly exhausting the pair of them, they retired in short order to Gran’s apartment near the Charles River. By her second day in Boston, Gran could no longer contain herself; it was time for Elspeth to fill her in on her adventures in London.
The pair spent the entire day on Christmas eve just being together, the discussion destined to get around to Elspeth’s romantic escapade, if indeed it could be called that.
In the course of their tête à tête, Gran eventually asked the all-important question, “So, is he the one, El?”
Eyeing her over the rim of her cup of tea, Elspeth rolled hers eyes and confessed, “Not sure…aw, heck, why’d you have to go and ask that, Gran?”
Sabrina took stock of the situation, then suggested sagely, “These things are complicated, my dear. I should know, your grandfather and I married one another twice!”
“I didn’t know that!” Elspeth blurted in wide-eyed astonishment, “How could such a thing happen?”
“Well, perhaps it isn’t relevant, but since you asked, Sloan was quite a complex challenge for me.”
“How so?”
“I don’t know, dear. Let me see…alright, I’m thinking back to that time in New York, when he located me just after the war. He was the hottest thing…”
“Gran!”
“Right, I digress. Anyway, he got me pregnant within a month. In those days we had little means of avoiding pregnancy, you know, so I got pregnant, and there seemed no alternative but to marry him. After all, he was quite a good looking man. Shortly thereafter we moved back here, to Boston, where he recommenced his studies at Harvard. And of course, we eventually reconnected with James and Isolde, who were by that time married as well. Your father had been born to them in 1943, and a few months later your mother was born to Sloan and me. Things went along quite well for a while after that, but I eventually got off track.”
“What do you mean, Gran?”
“That’s a story for another time, Elspeth. I shall fill you in someday, but for now, let me just say that Sloan and James developed some sort of animosity for one another, and it somehow caused my affection for Sloan to wane. Eventually, it got so bad that I left Sloan and moved back to Pittsburgh with your mother, who was by then about ten years old. I’m skipping over quite a bit, dear, because this all occurred over a period of many years. Anyway, your mother and father, who had spent a fair portion of their childhood seeing each other quite often, eventually grew to adulthood and, their mutual affection having survived their forced separation, they eventually reunited and were married. It was around that time that James was dismissed from Harvard, and his departure from Boston led to my reconciliation with Sloan. We were married for a second time in 1970.”
“Yay! It has a happy ending!” Elspeth blurted innocently.
A tiny smile creasing her features, Sabrina responded, “Well, yes, I suppose it did, at least it did for Sloan and me.”
“What about James and Isolde?”
“Oh, it was very sad, dear. Isolde died of cancer sometime around, let me see…it must’ve been 1968, shortly before James left Boston.”
“What happened to James. Where’d he go?”
“That’s a mystery, El.”
“Tell me about him, Gran. What was my other grandfather like? I never met him, you know.”
“Right, well, he was quite a complicated character, if you ask me. Good looking, too. I remember one summer, the four of us worked at an inn in New Hampshire. It was called The Orchard Inn. My, you’re taking me back, Elspeth,” and, her thoughts obviously drifting back in time, she eventually regained the train of thought, adding, “Well, anyway…Oh, I know! I have a picture of the four of us! Let me see, where is it? Oh, I know!” And at this Sabrina jumped up from her chair and rummaged around within the credenza. After a few moments she erupted, “Aha! Here it is!” and, holding up a handful of pictures, she said, “Right, take a look at this photo.”
She handed a picture to Elspeth, who in her turn inspected the ancient and faded picture. Though it was black and white, she could easily make out Sabrina and Sloan. The other pair were obviously her other two grandparents, James and Isolde.
Studying the picture a few moments, Elspeth glanced up and said, “Wow! You were all so young!”
“Yes, of course, my dear,” Sabrina ruminated patiently, “Even we old people were once young.”
At this Elspeth responded, “Sorry, Gran, it’s just all so new to me.”
“Yes, of course,” Sabrina replied and, glancing down at the additional photos, she handed one to Elspeth and said, “Here’s one of James taken shortly before his disappearance in 1968.”
Peering at the picture, Elspeth gasped in shock, “It’s in color!”
“Yes, of course, my dear,” Sabrina replied condescendingly, “By then we had joined the twentieth century.”
“Gran! That’s not what I meant at all! What I meant was – my grandfather had pale blue eyes!”
Sabrina gazed inquisitively at her for a moment and responded, “Yes, James was quite a striking looking man, my dear.”
Elspeth studied the photo a further moment, then suggested, “Tell me more, Gran!”
Sabrina eyed her patiently, then prevaricated, “All in good time, my dear. You somehow seem to have diverted me from my question to you…”
“Oh, I forgot,” Elspeth blurted, “What was your question, anyway?”
Now grinning knowingly, Sabrina prodded, “What’s up between you and that young man, Connor?”
“Oh, right,” Elspeth responded and, glancing away in thought, she replied, “I just don’t know, Gran. I do so adore him, but something is holding me back. I mean, we get along quite well together. We’ve gotten past all of the messy parts from our time in Boston, but I just don’t know…”
“Yes, my dear, finding a life partner is no easy task,” Sabrina volunteered, “I hope you work things out. You deserve to be happ
y.”
“I hope so, too, Gran. We’re getting together in Edinburgh as soon as I get back to London.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, my dear. You must keep me informed as to – shall we say – progress.”
“Yes, of course, Gran,” Elspeth agreed, “In the meantime, may I keep this photo of my grandfather?”
“Yes, of course, my dear.”
Four Days Later
Elspeth bit her lip apprehensively as the train pulled into Edinburgh station. Although she had agreed to meet Connor for the holiday, she had lied to him about her arrival date. Now, arriving a full day earlier than expected, she had twenty-four hours to sort out her dilemma. Stashing her bag in the terminal storage unit, she made directly for the city records building, just a few blocks from the station. Once there, she requested the documents she needed. Something strange was going on, and she knew she had to get to the bottom of it, and quickly.
Two hours later, she had what she needed, and thereafter she returned to the station. From there she took the train to Glasgow, whereupon she booked into a hotel for the night. Once ensconced within her room, she drew the copies from her purse and surveyed them carefully.
The birth certificate indicated that Connor Stuart had been born on October 29, 1971, the son of Margaret Stuart and Albert James Morgan. Strange…very strange…the name on the birth certificate was his mother’s last name rather than his father’s. To make matters even more mysterious, there was no record of a marriage certificate between the two parents. In fact, there was no record that Margaret Stuart had ever married in her entire life. Furthermore, Elspeth had been unable to find any record that a person named Albert James Morgan had been born in Scotland.
Thinking back on her own childhood, Elspeth now confronted the suspicion that had been forming in her mind over the past few days. When Elspeth had been growing up, there had always been something mysterious about her grandfather, the one who had been the President of Harvard University for a time. As a result of her trip to Boston to see her grandmother, a strange scenario had begun to develop within her labyrinthine mind. Now, protected within the solitude of her hotel room in Glasgow, she pulled the lone photo that she had of James Moorehead from her suitcase and, staring at the pale blue eyes in the photo, she compared them to those of Connor in her mind’s eye. A shiver coursing through her, she took up the yellowed copy of the newspaper clipping. It read as follows:
World Press International
December 2, 1968
Boston, Massachusetts – This report just in: Sir James Moorehead, Chancellor of Harvard University, has been placed on paid administrative leave, pending an investigation into charges of impropriety made against him. Dr. Moorehead has to this point in time been unavailable for comment regarding the charges against him. Readers will recall that Dr. Moorehead’s wife, Isolde, passed away recently of cancer. Stay tuned for more information regarding this story that has mounting implications for the academic community.
So there it was in black and white: her grandfather, James Moorehead, had either been dismissed or forced to resign from Harvard University for reasons of impropriety. No wonder he had disappeared, but exactly what had this so-called impropriety consisted of? Staring wistfully into space, she supposed she would never know the answer to that question, the principle characters having departed this earth.
Her senses returning to the present, she took up the birth certificate yet again and perused Connor’s father’s name – Albert James Morgan!
James Moorehead had disappeared from Boston in 1968, and Connor Stuart had been born in 1970, the son of Albert James Morgan. James Moorehead had had pale blue eyes, and Connor Stuart, the son of one Albert James Morgan, also had pale blue eyes. And now for the coup de grace – pale blue eyes are a recessive trait, making the probability that the similarities are coincidental unlikely. The inescapable conclusion was that James Moorehead and Albert James Morgan could quite possibly be one and the same person! And if that were indeed the case, then Connor Stuart was in fact Elspeth’s own uncle!
The Following Morning - Edinburgh Train Station
Elspeth stepped from the train onto the platform and, seeing Connor advancing toward her, she waved half-heartedly.
Racing up to her side, he made to kiss her, but she turned one cheek to accept his kiss. Retreating in surprise, he stared at her and then, assuming she must simply be fatigued from the transatlantic flight and subsequent long train ride, he inquired, “Are you alright, Elspeth?”
“Yes, I’m just tired,” she responded evasively.
“Why did you arrive from Glasgow?” he inquired.
“Oh, that,” she replied. “I waited too late to get a ticket, and the direct train from London to Edinburgh was fully booked. So I took the train to Glasgow and changed an hour ago.”
“Ah, I see. Smart thinking,” he replied, then added, “Well, shall we?” at which he grasped her bag and led her forward.
Two hours later they were ensconced within a pub on High Street. By then she could tell that Connor was all too aware that something was indeed wrong.
Her nerve built upon the strength of her second glass of ale, she eventually asked, “So, I’m wondering, Connor, why do you never speak of your father?”
“Oh, he died years ago,” he answered unawares.
“And your mother?”
His irritation now becoming apparent, he exclaimed, “I told you, she died two years ago. Say, what’s this all about, Elspeth?”
“Oh, nothing,” she prevaricated, “It’s just that – well, I never thought about it before. It must be something to do with coming here, where you were born and raised.”
Seeing she would not be put off, he suggested, “Alright, Elspeth, what else do you want to know?”
“I’m just curious – what did your father die of?”
“What! What difference does it make?” he exclaimed defensively.
Taken aback, she replied, “I don’t know, I was just wondering, that’s all.”
“He died of tuberculosis,” he responded matter-of-factly.
“Oh,” she replied doubtfully, “What was he like?”
“What do you mean – what was he like?” he complained.
“What sort of a father was he?”
His irritation growing palpably, he blurted, “Since you must know, I have no idea. He died when I was very young. I actually don’t remember him.”
“Oh, I see…” she responded knowingly.
“Look, Elspeth, I’ve no idea what you’re getting at, but your acting quite strangely, if you ask me.”
“I’m sorry,” she stammered, “I really don’t mean to be.”
“Well, then, shall we get on with our holiday. One can only guess when we’ll have another one quite so free and easy.”
“Yes, you’re right,” she replied, but it was nonetheless apparent that something was troubling her.
Arriving at his flat a short time later, he drew her into his arms, announcing, “Elspeth, you know how much this means to me, having you here in the home where I grew up. I only wish my mother could have been here to meet you. As it is, I’m certain her spirit is looking down on the two of us, at this happy moment when I am compelled to ask for your hand in marriage. Elspeth, I love you so much. Will you marry me?”
Shoving him away in alarm, she asked blankly, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Astonishment apparent in his reaction, he blurted, “You heard me – I love you!”
Glancing away in despair, she inquired, “How is it you came to the decision to attend university at Harvard, Connor?”
“What? What does that have to do with anything? Please, Elspeth, just answer the question!”
“Connor, why did your mother give you her maiden name?”
“What? What on earth are you babbling about, Elspeth? I’m asking you to marry me, and you’re talking about lineage, or family trees, or something. In truth, I have no i
dea what the hell you’re talking about!”
Her eyes flashing, she exclaimed, “Okay, this is what I’m talking about – your mother and father never married, and you were given your mother’s maiden name at birth. Much later, your mother and you conspired together to send you to university at Harvard, for what reason I can only guess. But of this I am quite certain – I was your target all along!”
“What! What on earth are you talking about, Elspeth?”
“Don’t play with me, Connor Stuart. I am quite certain that you are well aware that your father was James Moorehead, the selfsame person who was my own grandfather!”
“What! My God, ye mane be radge! I’ve positively no idea what you are talking about, Elspeth!”
“Radge, is it? Insane!” she shouted, adding, “Do you have a photograph of your father?”
Arching one eyebrow at her in surprise, he rejoined, “Of course, look there on the mantel. That’s him, with my mother.”
She stepped over to the mantel, examined the photo he had pointed towards and, turning to face him, she pulled a photo from her purse and shoved it towards him. As she did so she commanded, “Take a look at this one, Connor.”
Taking the picture in his hand, he inquired, “Where did you get this photo of him? I’ve only ever seen the one of my father.”
“That, Connor Stuart, is a picture of my grandfather, James Moorehead!”
Staring at her in utter disbelief, he blurted, “What? I don’t understand! What the…”
Tugging the documents from her purse, she flung them on the table and exclaimed, “Don’t make out like you’re innocent, Connor. There’s the proof, for all the world to see. I may never know what your ulterior motives were, but whatever they were, you and I are from this moment finished!”
She turned, grabbed her suitcase and raced out the door, leaving him to wonder exactly what had just transpired. Once out on the street, Elspeth broke into uncontrolled sobs. The train ride back to London was the longest ride of her life.
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