Читать книгу The Shadow Wife - Diane Chamberlain - Страница 11

CARLYNN SHIRE STOOD IN FRONT OF ONE OF THE MASSIVE bookshelves in the mansion library, her head cocked slightly to the side so that she could read the titles as she searched for one of the books on seals. In recent years, she hadn’t had much time to think about things as frivolous as the seals that swam in the ocean behind the mansion, but now, with so little time left to her, she was hungry to study them as closely as she had when she was a child. Funny how late in life you treasure those simple pleasures that were important to you growing up, she thought, when you all but ignored them in adulthood. Suddenly, when you knew your life was nearing its end, those simple things seemed most important of all.

The phone rang on the broad desk at the other end of the library, and Alan, who was sitting in his desk chair reading the Wall Street Journal, pressed the button for the speakerphone.

“Shire residence,” he said.

“Alan?” It was Therese, who ran the Mind and Body Center so efficiently that it was rare for her to call them anymore. Carlynn turned at the sound of her voice.

“Hi, Therese,” Alan said. “How are you?”

“I’m fine, thanks. I have a message for Carlynn.”

“I’m here, Terry,” Carlynn said, taking a few steps toward the desk to sit on the arm of the sofa. “You’re on the speakerphone. What’s the message?”

“Sorry to bother you with this,” Therese said. “A woman called, wanting to talk with you. She has a sick friend she wanted you to see. I told her you don’t do that anymore, but she said she knows you. Well, sort of knows you. She said you saved her life when she was a baby. On a commune in Big Sur.”

Carlynn and Alan exchanged looks. It was a moment before Carlynn spoke again. “What was her name?” she asked.

“Shanti Joy Angel,” Therese said.

“Ah, yes,” Carlynn said, her eyes still on Alan’s.

“You recognize it?” Therese asked. “It must have been a long time ago.”

“A time I’ll never be able to—”

“Call her back, Therese, and tell her what you told her the first time,” Alan said, leaning toward the speaker. “Carlynn doesn’t treat people anymore.”

Carlynn looked at Alan with annoyance. “Wait a minute, Therese,” she said as she picked up the receiver. “I’ll see her, if she’s willing to come here.” She wasn’t looking at Alan, but she heard him blow out his breath in annoyance and knew he was wearing a scowl.

“You will?” Therese sounded surprised.

“Yes.” She picked up a pen and pad from the desk and leaned over, ready to write. “Give me her number and I’ll have Quinn call her and set something up.” She jotted down the number. “Thanks,” she said. “How are things going over there?”

“Great,” Therese said. “I’ll fill you in at the meeting next week. And how are you doing, Carlynn?”

“Okay, dear,” Carlynn said. “I feel much better than I did when I was on all those poisons they were giving me. We’ll see you next week, then.”

She hung up the phone and let her gaze rest on Alan’s stunned face.

“Why in God’s name would you do that?” he asked.

“I’m dying, Alan.” She folded her arms across her chest. “What do I possibly have to lose?”

“You know as well as I do what you have to lose.”

He was afraid, and she felt sudden sympathy for him. He had always been afraid. Leaning over, she gave him a soft hug and a peck on the cheek. “I may be old, and I may be dying, but I’m not senile,” she said. “I won’t do anything that would hurt us. You know that.”

Using her cane, with which she had a love-hate relationship, she walked from the library into the massive living room and through the French doors to the broad terrace behind the mansion. The air was warm, almost balmy, and it held the faint salt smell of the Pacific mingled with the lemony aroma from the cypress trees surrounding the mansion. She rested her cane against one of the patio chairs and walked to the edge of the terrace to be as close to the water as she could get. What a glorious day on her beloved Cypress Point! The indigo sea beneath the vivid blue sky was framed by the cypress, which grew so close to the terrace she could reach out and touch the coarse leaves. Lifting her arms, stretching them wide, she drew the world into an imagined hug.

She should be at peace now, in this paradise that was her home, as she neared the end of a long-enough life. She should be able to embrace the world with abandon, to visit the seals on Fanshell Beach with nothing else on her mind but their huge dark eyes and shimmering bodies. But peace was elusive, and the reason for that was no mystery to her. Thirty-four years was a long time to be haunted by something. The guilt and sorrow and wretched sense of loss remained tangled up in her heart and her mind. Was she to die still burdened by her memories of that time?

Shanti Joy Angel. How could she ever forget that name? The three words alone pulled her back to Big Sur. She didn’t care what Alan had to say about it, she would see the young woman. She was not much of a believer in fate or in things happening for a reason, but this seemed a sign, something she shouldn’t ignore. Perhaps it was a coincidence that the baby from Big Sur had called her at this moment in her life, when the peaceful pull of death was thwarted by her preoccupation with her sins. Or, perhaps, it was a gift.