Читать книгу Third To Die - Carys Jones - Страница 10
ОглавлениеHolding On
Edna Copes wearily opened the large front door and squinted into the sunlight at Aiden. If she was surprised to see him, she didn’t show it.
“Hi,” Aiden smiled gently at her. “I was hoping I could see Edmond.”
Normally Edna’s face was constantly adorned by a bright, welcoming smile, but her lips were now held in a straight line. Dark circles had gathered beneath her eyes and her skin was pale and lacked its usual lustre.
“I thought you’d come,” Edna sighed, gesturing for Aiden to come inside. “He didn’t want you to know. He thinks so highly of you. He kept fretting about worrying you. But I told him you’re a smart guy; you’d be here soon enough.”
Aiden steeled himself upon hearing Edna’s ominous tone. Clearly, Edmond was as gravely ill as Clyde White had stated.
“How bad is it?” he asked softly.
A shadow crossed Edna’s face as she closed her eyes and shuddered slightly. When she re-opened them to speak they were dull and distant. She recited words she’d heard in a sterile doctor’s office, words she refused to give power to here in her home.
“It was originally just in his bladder but it has since spread and last they checked it was in his lymph nodes.”
“Cancer?”
Edna nodded grimly.
“He’s just through here,” Edna continued through the hallway and led Aiden towards the sitting room. Already he could sense that something was different. The Copes’ household was usually alive with sounds and energy but now the air was still and his footsteps echoed off the walls.
The medicinal scent of antibacterial wash became almost overbearing as it lingered in uncirculated air. Edna opened the doors to the sitting area and it smelled like a hospital ward only without the garish white walls.
The sitting room had been rearranged to accommodate a hospital bed which was nestled in the far corner, surrounded by a web of monitors. The drapes were closed, bathing the whole area in unnatural darkness. Edmond was sat in an armchair wearing blue plaid pyjamas. He had a blanket across his knees despite the oppressive heat of the afternoon.
Aiden felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw his beloved colleague. Edmond was a wilted, watered-down version of his former self. He’d lost a drastic amount of weight so that his pyjamas were ill-fitting. The same dark circles which hung beneath his wife’s eyes were present on his own face, only they appeared denser and more permanent. His skin had become so pale that it was almost translucent.
“He’s being so strong,” Edna whispered to Aiden when they were just beyond Edmond’s earshot.
“Humour him.”
Aiden nodded, though he wasn’t sure what she meant, and carefully approached Edmond. As he neared the older man he suddenly looked up, surprisingly alert and as soon as he saw his young protégé, a huge smile spread across his thinning face.
“Aiden, my boy!”
“So this is where you’ve been hiding out,” Aiden replied, using all the energy he could muster to sound bright and upbeat.
“You found me,” Edmond winked cheekily as Aiden sat down on a nearby sofa.
“Can I get you boys some drinks?” Edna kindly enquired.
“I’ll take a scotch on the rocks,” Edmond chuckled. Edna looked at him sternly, clearly not amused.
“Fine, just water,” Edmond rolled his eyes. “I’ll tell you, it’s like living with the Gestapo having her here!”
Edna glanced expectantly at Aiden.
“Just water for me, please.”
For a moment they listened to her retreating footsteps, which were easily carried in the vast, empty air of the house.
“She just worries,” Edmond wrinkled his nose slightly as he referenced his wife. “I do miss my scotch though.”
“You should have told me,” Aiden eyed his friend sternly and leaned forward, clasping his hands together.
“Told you what?” Edmond feigned mock ignorance. “There’s nothing to tell,” he waved a dismissive hand in front of him.
“I’ll be better soon enough. Once they’ve poured more of that damn poison into me I’ll kick this thing, just you see!”
Aiden was about to enquire about how aggressively the cancer had spread when he instead decided to keep his mouth shut, choosing to heed Edna’s advice and humour her husband.
“So who told you?” Edmond asked, his eyes bright with interest as Edna returned with two long glasses of water.
“Thanks,” Aiden nodded politely at her and then looked back at Edmond. “Clyde White. I was there earlier to amend his will.”
“That old dog never could hold his tongue,” Edmond remarked lightly.
“Did he talk to you about his will?”
“I know he’s leaving everything to the Copes’ dynasty,” Edmond quipped. “Someone should tell him to hold his horses though, he needs to remember that both our beds are still warm!”
“I think he’s just worried about you.”
“He’s just a glory hunter,” Edmond raised an eyebrow as he spoke. “He wants to redeem his family name after all the mess surrounding Brandy’s trial.”
“That seems a little…dark.”
“You’ve met Clyde White, haven’t you?”
“I guess,” Aiden took a sip from his cooled water and glanced around the room. It felt more like God’s waiting room than a sitting area. It scared Aiden how drastically things had changed. It had only been a few short weeks since he’d last seen Edmond and in that time the older man had literally started to fade away.
“I wish you’d told me,” Aiden reiterated.
This time Edmond wasn’t so quick to dismiss the comment.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” he admitted. “Besides, I’ll be back at work in no time. No point making a fuss over nothing.”
Aiden frowned and looked down at his glass, unable to keep his eyes on Edmond. He looked so feeble, so besieged by sickness. Clearly, it wasn’t nothing.
“So how long until you’re back, getting in the way of me actually working?” Aiden pulled his mouth into a wry smile, doing his best to humour the older man.
“Not long, don’t you sweat, young buck,” Edmond chuckled slightly, though his mirth lacked the depth Aiden was accustomed to.
“A few more bouts of chemo and I’ll be back,” Edmond smiled, but it fell away a little too quickly.
“Well, Betty and I are missing you.”
“I bet the old girl is bereft without me there,” Edmond winked. He went to speak again but was silenced by his increasingly laboured breathing.
“Are you okay? Can I get you anything?” Aiden approached him and placed a concerned hand upon his shoulder.
Edmond shook his head but didn’t speak. Footsteps hurriedly entered the room and Aiden looked up to see Edna running over with some pills in her hand.
“Take these,” she urged her husband. Then she looked back at Aiden, “He’s just getting tired. He doesn’t have much energy these days.”
Edmond took the tablets and sat for a moment, waiting for his breathing to regulate itself. Edna hovered by his side, not taking her eyes off him for a second. Aiden, however, was forced to look away. It was too difficult to watch.
“Better?” Edna asked anxiously, stroking Edmond’s thinning hair.
“No energy?” Edmond glanced at his wife, the light returning to his eyes as his chest ceased awkwardly heaving.
“I’ve more than enough energy, I’ll thank you very much!”
Edna sighed and rolled her eyes as she straightened and stood up. The moment had passed and her husband was back to his usual cheeky self.
“Women!” Edmond declared bluntly. “She’s just mad as I’m under her feet all day. She can’t keep popping off to the shops like she usually does.”
Edna didn’t reply, she just headed out of the room, once more giving the men their privacy.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Aiden asked sincerely.
“If I lose any more energy, you may have to service Mrs. Copes on my behalf,” Edmond joked but Aiden was unable to laugh. The gravity of the situation was beginning to weigh him down so that he felt like his whole body was made of lead and bolted to the sofa on which he sat.
Edmond looked across at his young colleague and his smile fell away when he registered his troubled expression.
“I’m doing everything I can to fight this,” he admitted. “But I’m a proud man. I didn’t want you, or anyone, for that matter, to see me like this.”
“You should have told me,” Aiden’s voice cracked slightly as water gathered behind his eyes.
“I know. I just…” Edmond looked back at the draped windows and sighed. “It crept up on me like some monster. One day I was fine, the next I was pissing blood and collapsing on the bathroom floor. She was terrified. I don’t like scaring people, Aiden. The fewer people this monster can scare, the better.”
“I want to help,” Aiden declared, straightening. “It must be exhausting for Edna to manage everything on her own. Let me help. I can take you to hospital appointments, sit here with you at home, whatever you need.”
“I need my company to stay afloat,” Edmond told him. “So that when I return I’ve still got a job to go back to.”
Aiden’s face betrayed him as his eyes misted with pity.
“Copes and May is my legacy,” Edmond continued, his voice becoming light with nostalgia.
“We made that company when we were young, idealistic men. We wanted to change the world. And you helped.”
“I did?” Aiden blinked in surprise.
“You saved Brandy White. Without your intervention an innocent woman would have died. That’s the reason I ever got into law in the first place; to save those who genuinely needed saving.”
“I’m not sure my other cases have been quite so noble.”
“It’s early days,” Edmond said sagely. “You’re making a name for yourself for being a good, honest man. People will seek out your help. You’re going to make Copes and May great.”
“Okay, but I still want to help you.”
Edmond squirmed awkwardly in his chair.
“Ask Edna what help she needs,” he said quickly. “But I draw the line at having you here when she bathes me! I need to retain some of my mystique!”
“I’ll ask her,” Aiden smiled.
“I wish we could sit and chew the fat all day,” Edmond said wistfully. “I want to hear all about what a smug bastard Clyde White was when he told you I was sick. But I’m tired. And as a sick man I get to call it when I’m tired and insist people leave so I can rest!”
“Sounds like a fair perk to the deal,” Aiden stood and fondly placed a hand on Edmond’s shoulder.
“I promise I’ll be back at work soon,” Edmond told him, his eyelids already beginning to droop.
“I’ll hold you to that!” Aiden pointed at him.
*
“I want to help,” Aiden said solemnly to Edna as she showed him to the front door.
“He’s so stubborn,” Edna sighed. “He struggles to accept help from me!”
“Is there anything at all I can do?”
Edna pursed her lips and thought for a moment.
“Could you take him to his chemo appointment next week? I’d take him myself, only some of our family are flying in and I need to get the house straight for having them all coming to stay.”
“Absolutely, I’ll take him.”
“We’re circling the wagons,” Edna admitted woefully. “As much as he wants to bury his head in the sand, the rest of us can’t. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how bad things were. He insisted I shouldn’t say anything.”
“It’s okay,” Aiden briefly embraced Edna and tried to hold back his own tears.
“You mean so much to him,” Edna wiped at her cheek out of habit, even though she wasn’t crying in that moment.
“If anyone can fight this, he can,” Aiden told her confidently before stepping out into the heat of the afternoon and walking back to his car.
*
Aiden turned the stereo in his car up so that it was distractingly loud. He needed something to distract him from his darkening thoughts. He’d so desperately wanted Clyde White to be wrong but it truly did seem that Edmond was fading away. It was so cruel a fate for such a vibrant, charismatic man.
Drumming his hands against the steering wheel in time to the music, Aiden forced himself to hum along, to focus solely on the garish rhythm of the pop song being filtered through his car’s speakers. He became so hypnotised by the overly produced record that it took him a second to notice the flashing lights in his rear-view mirror. Lowering the music, Aiden realized with dismay that the lights were accompanied by the stringent shriek of sirens. Slowing, he pulled up on to the side of the road and cut his engine.
“Dammit,” he grumbled angrily to himself. He was certain that he hadn’t been speeding. He’d admittedly been distracted but he’d still managed to adhere to the laws of the road.
As Aiden glanced up into his mirror he noticed a familiar figure exit the squad car, which was now pulled up behind him. The pointed boots of Buck Fern stepped out into the gathered dust on the roadside and began to approach Aiden’s car.
“Dammit,” Aiden uttered again, opening his car window and then carefully placing his hands at ten and two on the wheel.
He could hear the old sherriff’s prolonged, deliberate steps before he finally appeared at his window, casting a shadow across Aiden as he blocked out the afternoon sun.
“Afternoon, Sherriff,” Aiden tried to sound as amicable as he could.
“Connelly,” Buck replied gruffly, snarling as he uttered the greeting.
Buck placed one hand on the car’s roof and lowered himself to look in at Aiden.
“Mind stepping out of the car?” Even though Buck delivered it as a question, they both knew it was a directive.
“Seriously?” Aiden asked, bewildered but already unbuckling his seatbelt.
“Seriously,” Buck confirmed coldly as he stepped back and waited for Aiden to get out.
The few cars that passed them slowed slightly to observe the encounter taking place, the drivers eager to gather some gossip they could take home and share over the dinner table.
Aiden got out and slammed his door shut and then looked directly at Buck Fern, searching the old man’s grey eyes for some hint of rationality.
“Where you headed?” Buck drawled out the words as though he had all the time in the world to kill.
“Home,” Aiden instinctively replied. Then he realized that this wasn’t entirely true. He had planned to swing by the office and speak with Betty. Before he left Edmond, his dwindling colleague had insisted that he inform his loyal secretary of the severity of his condition.
“But don’t go worrying the old girl too much,” Edmond advised. “Just tell her the basics. Seems word is getting out and if she hears it from anyone other than you or I there will be hell to pay!”
Aiden ran a hand through his hair and felt the stifling heat of the afternoon beginning to penetrate through his shirt and cause his skin to break out in beads of sweat. He yearned to be back in the air-conditioned comfort of his car.
“Did you stop me just to ask where I’m going?” Aiden cried angrily. He lacked the patience for Buck Fern’s games. The old sherriff had picked the wrong time to try and rattle his cage.
“Partly,” Buck admitted, smirking slightly. “I thought you might be skipping town.”
“Skipping town? What? Why?”
“I think you’d do well to skip town,” Buck continued.
“I’m sure you do think that,” Aiden glanced back longingly at his car.
“Your wife received anymore of those strange letters?”
Aiden felt his whole body suddenly chill despite the heat of the day. He looked at Buck with renewed interest. “What makes you ask that?”
“Last time I saw Mrs. Connelly she was real worried about some threatening letters ya’ll had received telling you to leave Avalon.”
“They were just the laments of some bitter crackpot,” Aiden told him sourly. “Nothing to be taken seriously.”
“No?” Buck’s eyes widened and his tone elevated mockingly. “She seemed real concerned by them. And with good reason. People round here, they don’t like being ignored.”
“Look!” Aiden raised a hand towards the sherriff. “If you want to make thinly veiled threats, go ahead, but this isn’t the time.”
Angrily, Aiden began to storm back towards his car.
“I’m not sure how ethical it is to discuss a paternity case with someone other than your client,” Buck called after him. He was talking about his brother’s paternity case which Aiden had previously handled, albeit badly. His personal feelings for Brandy had managed to cause him to blur the lines surrounding his professional integrity.
Aiden paused with his hand just over the door handle which was already sizzling with heat beneath the sun.
“Did you think nothing would come of it?” Buck began advancing towards Aiden with those same slow, deliberate steps. “My brother is not a man to be trifled with, Mr. Connelly. He knows all about what you did. How you kept the truth about Davis’ paternity from him. How you ran off to Chicago to divulge it all to Brandy White. He knows what you did and you know he harbours a grudge.”
Sighing, Aiden looked towards the sherriff.
“I only ever acted in the best interests of the child.”
“First, you’re not a social worker, you’re a lawyer,” Buck pointed an accusing finger at Aiden as he spoke. “Second, telling Brandy White ain’t in the best interests of the child. You acted inappropriately, Mr. Connelly. At every turn within that case. My brother wants you disbarred and run out of town.”
“I’m sure you share your brother’s sentiments on that,” Aiden replied stiffly.
“You’re right there,” Buck smiled cruelly beneath his trademark Stetson. “But I’m much more forgiving than my brother. You’ve got one week, Mr. Connelly. One week to pack up and leave Avalon for good or else my brother will ruin you professionally. And you don’t want that, do you? To bring shame upon that young family of yours?”
Aiden struggled to absorb what Buck Fern was saying. He was blatantly making threats in the hope of running him out of town, but all Aiden could think about was Edmond.
Buck drew closer to him and scrutinized Aiden’s face. As he did so he suddenly straightened in shock.
“You been crying, boy?”
Surprised, Aiden wiped at his eyes. Sure enough they felt sore and slightly damp. He had been crying. As he drove away from Edmond’s house he must have unknowingly shed tears of despair as he tried to distract himself with the melodies from the radio.
“I…” Aiden floundered beneath the sherriff’s interrogation. He didn’t want to start discussing Edmond’s condition with him.
“I asked you a question.” Buck scowled in annoyance as he waited on his answer.
“Yes,” Aiden admitted helplessly. “I guess I was crying for a bit.”
“And what would make a grown man cry?” Buck’s voice lacked empathy or concern. His words were as sharp as steel and he directed them to cut against Aiden and increase his apparent anguish.
“It’s none of your business,” Aiden told him tersely, gripping the door handle and opening up his car as he prepared to leave.
“Everything is my business,” Buck placed his hand upon the open door like a claw, preventing Aiden from departing.
Aiden looked the old man directly in the eye, silently pleading with him to not press the matter further.
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“How about I cuff you and take you back to my office? Think you might want to talk then?” Buck threatened.
Aiden closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. Clearly there was no way he was going to get rid of Buck Fern and his unending desire to pry into his personal business unless he gave him the truth he sought.
“I went to see Edmond.”
Buck immediately released his grip on the car door and stepped back slightly. He turned away from Aiden, gazing back down the long road upon which they had both been driving.
“I heard,” Buck said, still not looking at Aiden, “about his condition. It is truly a sorry state of affairs.”
“You hear through Clyde White?”
“Mmm.” Buck sharply turned back to face Aiden, his mouth drawn in a tight line.
“Can I go now?” Aiden gestured towards his car.
“Edmond Copes is a good man,” Buck declared fervently. “He’s a son of Avalon and everyone in this town loves him. Even you.”
Aiden flinched with surprise. It almost sounded like the old sherriff was paying him a compliment.
“I hate to see a good man suffer,” Buck lowered his head and spat into the road. When he looked back up at Aiden, some of the hate that burned behind his eyes seemed to have dissipated.
“Until Edmond is well again, you get a free pass in my eyes.”
Aiden straightened. The last person he expected to show any compassion regarding Edmond’s illness was Buck Fern.
“I do have a heart beating in this old chest of mine,” Buck clasped a hand against his regulation shirt.
“Edmond is a friend. If you take off now, he’ll be hurt. Last thing I want to do is hurt him. He needs us all right now.”
“Thank you?” Aiden said uncertainly. He wasn’t sure he truly understood what was transpiring between them.
“But once Edmond is well enough to get back on his feet, you tell him you’re done with Avalon and that you’re heading back to the city. We don’t need your kind round here, Mr. Connelly. You made an enemy of my brother which means that your days here are numbered.”
“Can I go now?”
“Yeah,” Buck sighed, waving a dismissive hand. “Go.”
Aiden was in the driver’s seat, about to drive off, when Buck reappeared at his window. The old man tapped it gently to instruct him to wind it down.
“Yes, sherriff?” Aiden asked, trying not to lose what little patience he had left.
“How was he? You said you’d just been to see Edmond. How was he?”
Aiden felt fresh tears start to push against his eyes.
“He’s…sick. He’s really sick.”
Buck tilted his head to once again spit upon the ground.
“He’s still got some fight in him though?” he asked hopefully.
“Definitely,” Aiden nodded a little too eagerly. “Edmond isn’t the sort of man to go down without a fight.”
“Yeah,” Buck smiled slightly at this. “I figured.” Then his gaze hardened once more as he looked back at Aiden.
“This thing between you and my brother. It ain’t over, Mr. Connelly. It’s just paused.”
“I understand.”
The old sherriff finally turned and started back towards his patrol car. Aiden waited until he’d pulled away and had driven out of sight before he manoeuvred his own car back on to the road. As much as he wanted to be heading home, he knew he owed Betty a visit.
*
Whenever Brandy entered her apartment the ritual was always the same. She’d cast off her coat, letting it fall across the back of her sofa, and then she’d rush over to her answering machine, buoyed by hope. Eagerly she’d cast her eyes across the digital display and when she saw that it starkly read zero, she’d lean against the nearby kitchen counter, deflated.
Why hadn’t Aiden called? Brandy had even taken to picking up her handset and checking that her line was still working. When she heard the dull drone of the open line her heart would plummet further, almost falling all the way down to her feet.
Filled with longing and despair, she would then eventually drift into her kitchen where she’d begin preparing her evening meal for one. As she boiled pasta and stirred vegetables, her mind would drift back to her last conversation with Aiden. She scrutinized every word, every facial expression, but try as she might, she couldn’t find any evidence to support his sudden abandonment of her.
The sound of her phone ringing made Brandy almost drop the spoon she was holding with shock. No one ever called. The shrill sound echoed around her apartment, shattering her standard evening ritual.
Brandy hurried over to the handset and answered the call. A part of her desperately wanted to hear Aiden’s voice on the other end of the line but it was Rhonda’s jovial tone which found its way to her ear drum.
“Brandy, hey,” Rhonda greeted her.
“Hi,” Brandy smiled thinly as she moved to sit on her sofa.
“I just wondered what you were doing tonight,” Rhonda asked. Brandy glanced around her apartment. She was doing what she did every night; making dinner for one followed by an evening sat eating ice cream from the tub and crying over a chick-flick. She had plans to mope.
“Not much,” Brandy replied nonchalantly.
“Wrong!” Rhonda declared excitedly. “You’re coming out with me!”
“I am?”
“Yep! I’m picking you up at eight-thirty and we are going to check out this new club downtown!”
“Oh.” Brandy looked across sadly at her television. She savoured the comfort of watching romantic movies on it and allowing herself to get lost in the plot. It enabled her to escape the mess which was her own love life.
“You need to stop moping around that apartment of yours and get out!” Rhonda insisted brightly.
Brandy wasn’t so sure. Her apartment had become safe and familiar. As much as she loved exploring Chicago, an evening in a club would mean meeting people. People who would ask for her story, for where she was from. As soon as anyone knew she was a widow who had almost been convicted of murdering her deceased husband they’d surely run a mile? Aiden had never once judged her for her past; she didn’t think someone new would be nearly as kind.
“You’re a beautiful Southern belle with a sparkling personality,” Rhonda told her confidently, seemingly aware of her colleague’s misgivings.
Brandy absently picked at a loose thread on her sofa as she listened. Lately her sparkle seemed to have dulled. Ever since Aiden hadn’t made good on his promise to return to her, Brandy had felt different, like she’d lost her anchor and was now adrift.
“People don’t need to know about your past,” Rhonda said softly. “That’s what you’re worried about, isn’t it? That people will judge you?”
“Won’t they?” Back in Avalon everyone had judged Brandy. She couldn’t walk a block without hearing whispered negative comments carried back to her on the breeze. She tried to hold her head high, to rise above it but people looked at her as though she were an unwanted bug which they desperately wanted to destroy. Even after her name had been cleared following Brandon’s death, she couldn’t lose the harsh judgement of Avalon’s residents. Their cruel opinions seemed to have stuck to her, making them unchangeable and permanent.
“No!” Rhonda insisted. “You need to go out, do some shots, dance and forget all about your mystery man back home!”
“Mmm,” Brandy still wasn’t convinced.
“Because let’s face it, Brandy. He’s clearly forgotten about you.”
Rhonda’s observation was harsh but true and it was just what Brandy needed to hear.
“I’ll go.” She nodded assertively.
“Good girl!” Rhonda declared triumphantly. “See you at eight-thirty. Wear something inappropriate.”
Brandy ended the call and let the silence of her apartment settle over her. She knew that Rhonda was right, not just about the fact that she needed to get out but also about Aiden having forgotten about her. And sitting around on her own, night after night, wasn’t going to change anything. If he was going to call then he’d have called. Brandy stood up purposefully and marched in the direction of her bedroom to select an outfit to wear for the evening.
*
Aiden parked up outside the Copes and May offices and glanced inside. He could see Betty positioned neatly behind her desk, typing away with her glasses perched precariously on the end of her nose. He didn’t like what he was about to do.
“Ah, Mr. Connelly,” Betty greeted him brightly, removing her glasses as she looked up from her computer monitor so that they were hanging around her neck.
“How did everything go with Clyde White? I hope he didn’t give you too frosty a reception.”
“He was as expected,” Aiden raised his shoulders slightly. “I came away in one piece which was all I could have hoped for.”
“Oh, good.” Betty went to put her glasses back on when she realized that instead of continuing on to his own office, Aiden was hovering awkwardly by her desk.
“Coffee?” she asked him. “I’ll just finish this payment and then I’ll get right on it.”
“Actually, I need to talk to you.”
“Oh.” Betty turned and gave him her full attention, her eyes bright with interest.
“Can you come in my office?” Aiden suggested.
“Of course.” Betty immediately stood up and carefully straightened her skirt before following Aiden into his office.
“Take a seat.” Aiden gestured to Edmond’s chair. Tentatively, Betty lowered herself into it, clasping her hands neatly in her lap and leaning forward like a child awaiting sentencing from an angry teacher.
“I need to talk to you about Edmond,” Aiden sighed, leaning against his desk rather than sitting.
“Oh?”
“When I went to see Clyde White he told me that Edmond is more than a bit sick. That he’s actually terminally ill.”
“Oh my.” Betty’s left hand fluttered up to her chest as she took a sharp intake of breath.
“So following my appointment with Mr. White, I went to check in on Edmond. You know how he is; he kept us in the dark to prevent worrying us. But it’s cancer, Betty, and it’s bad.”
Betty wore a grave expression as she stared intently at the carpeted floor, one hand still resting upon her chest.
“I hate being the bearer of bad news but he wanted you to know. He expressly asked me to come and tell you.”
Betty began to shake her head woefully.
“No,” she uttered, her voice barely audible. “Not him too!”
Aiden went and knelt beside her, cupping her right hand in his own.
“He’s one of the good ones, Mr. Connelly,” Betty declared as she looked up to meet his gaze. Watery pools gathered beneath her eyes and began to slowly burst their banks and descend down the wrinkled crevasses in her cheeks.
“I know,” Aiden tightened his grip on her hand which was trembling with despair. “And please, call me Aiden.”
Betty’s entire body began to shudder as her tears intensified. Aiden sat and held her hand as she cried, knowing there was little else he could do to comfort her.
“I’m sorry,” Betty muttered as she tried to compose herself.
“Don’t be.”
“May I be excused?” Betty struggled to her feet and wiped some of the tears from her face.
“Of course,” Aiden immediately replied. “Take all the time you need, Betty. I know how much you care for Edmond.”
“Will he accept visitors?” she asked, her voice on the cusp of breaking.
“Yes,” Aiden nodded. “But perhaps wait until tomorrow. Edna mentioned that having visitors tires him.”
“Then may I take leave tomorrow to visit him?”
“Absolutely.”
Betty took slow, deep breaths as her sorrow subsided. Carefully she straightened both her hair and her outfit.
“He’s more than an employer to me,” she told Aiden with certainty. “He’s a friend.”
“I feel the same way.”
“That’s the magic of Avalon,” Betty added wistfully. “There are no strangers here, only family. It’s why people never leave.”
Aiden resisted pointing out that he was still very much a stranger in the eyes of the majority of Avalon’s residents.
He watched Betty leave, sharing her anguish. Edmond was indeed a good man and a good friend to them both. Alone in his office, Aiden began to contemplate his time spent in Avalon. Edmond had always been there to watch over him, to guide him. He was one of the few people in town who were proud of Aiden’s triumph with Brandy’s case. Everyone else felt like Aiden had betrayed the memory of Brandon White by exposing the truth, but Edmond could see past that and saw the tremendous victory that had occurred; that Aiden had saved the life of an innocent woman.
Thinking about Brandy made Aiden’s whole body tense with guilt. He should have called her. He knew that. He owed her an explanation, he owed her a goodbye. He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, leaned back in his chair and made the call he’d been dreading.
*
Brandy rarely drank. After she’d downed the third shot Rhonda had bought her, she began to feel like she was floating and that the whole world had tilted on its axis. Dreamily she manoeuvred herself on to the dance floor where the rest of the evening became a blur of neon lights and pounding melodies which encouraged her body to move at a frenzied pace.
Somehow Brandy made it back to her apartment. She didn’t remember Rhonda struggling to place her in a cab, or how the driver insisted that if she threw up he’d kick her out. She didn’t remember anything until she woke up face down on her bed, atop all of the covers and still wearing her outfit from the night before.
The sun burned brightly through her windows. Having been too drunk to close her curtains, it seared across the bed and caused Brandy to wince and move. As she rolled over she felt almost blinded by its brilliance.
“Owww,” she shielded her eyes and groggily sat up. The room spun slightly but then settled. Brandy raised a hand to her head which felt like it had been stuffed with cotton wool balls as she slept.
“Owww,” she moaned again as she pushed herself off the bed and headed for her main living area where she poured herself a glass of water which she downed in one. Her throat felt brittle and dry, as if she had been eating sandpaper all evening.
The water helped the sensation, but only a little. Everything ached. Brandy already wanted to go back to bed and sleep away the discomfort. She was about to turn back around and return to her room when she noticed the display on her answering machine was flashing with the number one. Her heart froze in her chest and for a prolonged moment she stared at it in disbelief. Then she pressed play and stood and listened to her solitary message.
“Brandy, it’s me, Aiden. I know I should have called sooner but…I’m sorry. I can’t, I won’t be coming to Chicago. Things here in Avalon are…complicated. I’m sorry, Brandy. Truly I am. Please don’t hate me.”
Brandy played the message three more times. After the third round of apologies, she firmly pressed the delete button and retreated back to her bedroom, taking care to close her curtains and seal herself off from the world outside.
