Beginning, Section II, Next Section

Chapter 6

Posted on Thursday, 27 March 2003, at 10:44 a.m.

On Monday, the moment she got out on the playground, Bella was bombarded by six eager girls, all speaking at once. "Did you talk to Mr. Bing yet?" "What did he say?" "How did you like the site?" "Can we do it?" Bella held her hand up for silence, and when that didn't work she drew it across her neck in a slashing movement. "Cut!" The girls suddenly stopped and stared at her in anticipation.

"You kids remind me of a flock of starlings, a pack of Hyenas . . ."

"A murder of crows?" asked Sarah innocently.

"Well, I do feel like murdering you, come to think of it," laughed Bella.

"So what's the scoop?" asked Cindy in her best reporter voice, holding out a pencil as a microphone.

"Is that thing on?" asked Bella.

"Get to the point!" cried Rita in exasperation.

"Did you bring him up to scratch?" asked Heather.

"Scratch? What are you talking about Heather?" asked Alicia. "No, don't explain it to me. Bella, tell us before I go bananas."

"Before she goes distracted," whispered Alyson.

Bella had to will herself to stop laughing as six pairs of eyes stared at her imploringly. "You girls had better start writing, because Mr. Bing thinks it's a great idea! Miss Leukes is going to have permission slips ready for you to take home tonight."

The girls began jumping up and down and cheering, and then Bella found herself in the middle of a big group hug.

"So, after all the legalities are over," said Alicia, "when do we start?"

"If you get all your permission slips in as soon as possible, we can start next Tuesday. So, have all you girls read Pride and Prejudice? I'm impressed!"

"I read it two years ago in grade five," said Sarah. "Now I mostly read sci fi that my brother lends me, but I still love it."

"I read it last summer, and then I found out it was on video," said Cindy, "so I rented it and Alicia and Alyson came over and they went crazy! Alyson fell in love with Darcy right away!"

Alyson blushed. "I know he's a little old, but those Regency clothes and that look he always gives Lizzie did me in!" She sighed. "I read the book soon after that, and then Alicia did too."

Cindy had a far away look in her eyes. "I wonder what Adam would look like in regency clothes?"

"Adam?" Heather asked in horror. "Can you imagine him in anything other than gumboots and corduroy?"

"I bugged my mom so much, that she bought me the DVD for my twelfth birthday last fall," said Cindy, trying to pretend she had not just said what she had, as all the girls looked at her wonderingly. "That's when Rita and Heather first saw it - at my party."

"Good thing it was a sleepover," said Heather. "I had already read the book, though, because my mom has this really old copy with the original illustrations. I used to look at the pictures all the time, and one day I just decided to read it."

Rita started to look a little embarrassed. "Okay. I admit that I haven't read it yet, but I've seen it enough times to be able to write stories about it."

"Yeah, but now you think the colonel is a more important character than he really is, because you like the guy who acted him," said Alyson.

"Who's this colonel you are talking about?" asked Lise, who had just joined the group.

"Colonel Fitzwilliam in Pride and Prejudice," said Alicia.

"Oh, Studmuffin!" said Lise, blushing shyly.

All the girls looked at her. "Are you a Dwiggie too? That's what he's called in lots of the stories."

Lise looked at her feet and admitted to the addiction, and then the girls told her about the club and begged her to join. "As long as I don't have to write stories with kissing," she said, blushing furiously.

"I'm going to put kissing in my stories," said Alicia. "That's okay isn't it Bella?"

"As long as it's appropriate, like after a proposal," said Bella.

"I have swimming on Tuesdays and Thursdays," said Lise, "so I will have to leave early. Is that okay?"

"No problem," said Bella. She looked around the playground and saw that everything was going smoothly. No fights on the soccer field. No arguments over the tire swing. There was a girl wandering in the back field by herself. Bella had often seen her alone, and now that she thought of it, couldn't remember her playing with anybody at all. "Who's that girl over there?" she asked. "Maybe she would like to join our club."

The others all looked in the direction she was pointing. "Oh, that's Sofie. She is such a snob," said Sarah.

"She never talks to anybody," said Alyson. "It's like she thinks she's better than us."

"If she ever answers me when I ask her something," said Cindy, "she's not polite. Usually she just walks away."

"She's not nice," said Alicia.

"She's proud and disagreeable," said Heather. The other girls all giggled, knowing the context of her words.

"Well," said Bella, "remember Georgiana? Everyone said she was proud. Maybe Sofie is just shy. Why don't you give her a chance and try to get to know her? I don't think it's good for her to be wandering around alone all the time."

"Okay," said Rita. "I'll go and talk to her. But what if she ignores me?"

"Just keep trying. A little kindness does a lot to help. She probably thinks no one likes her," said Bella. "If you make an effort to include her she might feel more comfortable and open up, and she might turn out to be nice after all. But don't all of you go over there - you'll scare her off."

Rita set off across the field and the other girls looked on, doubt clearly written on all their faces. Bella made her rounds of the playground and stopped some six-year-olds from filling their pockets with pea gravel. Then she had to deal with a group of grade 4's who were trying to play chicken on the monkey bars while two of them distracted her with silly questions. Meanwhile a fight broke out on the soccer field and she ran over to break it up, knowing full well that the chicken fights would resume as soon as her back was turned.

"He was slide checking!" cried one of the boys.

"Well, everybody else is!"

"My mom will kill me! Look what you did to my pants!"

"I don't think mothers make a habit of killing their children over a bit of extra laundry," said Bella. "All you kids know that you aren't allowed to slide check, so you have no excuses."

"I slipped!"

"Right. Every time Tyler had the ball, you just happened to slip and trip him by accident? It won't work, Kyle. Do you guys want me to ban soccer for the rest of the week? Okay, Tyler and Kyle, you two go sit in the hall, and when the bell rings I'll talk to you. Hopefully by then you will be able to tell me how you should have dealt with the problem. The rest of you, play by the rules or you'll lose your privileges." Bella hurried back to the monkey bars to issue detentions to all the kids who had ignored her when she had told them to stop the chicken fights. It was turning out to be one of those days.

After talking to the two boys in the hall, Bella rushed in to fill out her detention reports before she heading over to the art class. June came out of the staff room and handed her a steaming cup of Raspberry Thriller.

"June you're a doll! How did you know I needed that?"

"She's actually an angel," quipped Chance as he hurried past them.

June blushed lightly and followed him with her eyes until he rounded the corner.

"Earth to June!" called Bella.

"Sorry, did you say something?" asked June, a little flustered. "I was just thinking of my next lesson."

"You give lessons about cute butts?" asked Bella, her eyes dancing. Carla snorted in the background.

"I'm going to be late for class," said June, running down the hall, trying to hide her blazing cheeks behind the music sheets she was carrying.

Bella took her tea with her and was soon helping the kids stretch silk over frames. They were doing a unit on printing and had just progressed from lino cuts to silk screening. By the end of class, most kids had their screens masked and ready, and the messier work of printing could start the next day.

"I'm putting in an order for canvas and stretchers. Do you want me to order you some?" asked Maddy. "It's way cheaper than buying them locally. Just figure out what you want and give me a cheque for it."

"Thanks!" said Bella. "How long will it take to come in? I really need a few canvases now. I only brought stuff to make one, and I've used it."

"There's some canvas and stretchers in the stock room. Just take what you need and pay me for it. We won't be painting until I get the new order in, so don't worry about using anything up."

Bella soon found what she needed to make two 16"/20" canvases, and one 24"/30". She had the two smaller ones stretched quickly, and was just starting on the larger one when she dropped her staple gun.

"Here, let me help you with that," came a deep voice, and someone leaned over to pick up the stapler. She found herself looking into deep-green eyes, and her words caught in her throat. "You stretch and I'll staple."

She nodded mutely and started to pull the canvas across the frame, holding it in place while he effortlessly shot the staples in. How long had he been in the room? She hadn't heard him come in at all. He must be part cat. A chill went up her spine.

"I'm sorry if I disturbed you the other day," he said, intent on his job. "I hope you were able to finish the painting."

Unable to trust her voice, she only nodded.

"My dog is usually better behaved than that."

"Daisy," she finally managed.

"Yes, Daisy," he said ruefully.

"I'm sorry I laughed," said Bella, turning the other end up to stretch it evenly. She did not look up, and was glad she hadn't when she heard his response.

"You have a nice laugh. Don't be sorry about it."

The comment effectively stopped all conversation between them until the task was done.

"That should do it," he said as he shot the last staple home. He placed the staple gun on the table and turned to leave the room, barely giving Bella any time to thank him before he was through the door.

She stared after him, her mind all jumbled confusion. She was angry. Angry because he had been so nice. Why? Angry because he had probably been watching her all along while she was making the other canvases. Why? Angry because she had been so discomfited. Angry because of the way she had felt when their eyes met. She couldn't stand the guy, so why, why, why had she experienced such a visceral reaction? There was no way she was going to let his undeniable good looks get to her. She had to remember how callous he had been when he had spoken to Chance about her. How he always stared at her so critically. How he was always sneaking up on her, like a dark and brooding jaguar prowling his territory, ready to eliminate anyone he thought did not belong.

Bella looked at her watch. It was almost four. She had promised Maddy she would unload the kiln for her. She quickly tidied up and then, grabbing her canvasses, she headed out the door, switching off the light as she left.

The Kiln was in the small art room. The primary children had been making slab pots, and they were now bisqued and ready to be put on the shelves, and a new batch put in. Bella stowed her canvases in June's car before attending to the kiln. She enjoyed the carefree styling of the small bowls and vases that the young children had built. They had carved designs into the clay, and textured the surface. She was just placing the last bowl onto a shelf, and had shut the kiln, when the door opened and someone entered the room. Her heart fell. Not again! What did he want now? She turned quickly, ready to confront him.

It was someone she had never seen before. He was of average height, thick-waisted, and balding. His eyes were slightly protuberant, and his chin receding.

"Well, well, well. Who have we here? What beauty from yonder kiln appears?" he intoned nasally.

Bella closed her mouth suddenly, biting back the acerbic comment that was on her lips. She felt herself having to repress a giggle. She turned away to compose herself and then faced him again.

"You must be the infamous new art department teacher's assistant cum lunch-hour supervisory aide. I hear there was quite a conference about you at the latest school board meeting, and that all eyes are upon you now - if you should flounder, Chance Bing's head will be in the basket, and the whole little project could be down the pipes."

Bella froze. "You have the advantage over me," she said. "I have no idea who you are."

"I'm so sorry," he said, smiling ingratiatingly. He came forward and held out his hand. "Phil Collins, senior maintenance custodian."

"Oh! You're the janitor," said Bella, letting go of his clammy hand as quickly as she could. "I thought you were on the school board or something."

His chest puffed out a bit at that remark. "I am in a position of privilege in that respect. I am very close to the chairperson, Mrs. Katrina Berg. I have the distinct pleasure of attending to her windows every Saturday morning. She has the largest triple paned windows I have seen in a private residence. An entire three-story wall of them facing the lake. Do you know her estate? It is on the western shore, where only private residences are allowed. Rosemary Gardens is its name, and I think it suits admirably. The herb gardens must be seen to be believed. But the piece de resistance, of course, is her amazing fireplace. Hand picked river rock from Pember Creek. All matched porphyry. It is large enough to roast an ox!"

"How interesting. And she tells you all that goes on at the meetings?" Bella persisted, not wanting to be side-tracked into discussing the furnishings of the entire house.

"She confides in me incessantly!" said Collins, sitting at a table and rapping on it with his fingers. "She trusts my judgement and relies on my discretion."

"Well, I can see her reliance has not been misplaced," said Bella acidly.

"Not at all. And in return I do what I can to keep her informed of all the goings on here. My ear is always to the ground! She would have preferred a traditional school to this artsy fartsy agenda, and I can't agree with her more, so much mess to clean up with all the paint and clay and paper scraps. Her nephew, D, managed to get the public on his side and she had to relent. She is a very shrewd businessperson and knows exactly when to back off, and when to make her move. I thought the dirt that I had uncovered about D Fitzwilliam would have done the job, but she refused to use it out of family loyalty. The woman is a real lady!" He paused, but kept up his persistent off-beat tapping.

Despite herself, Bella felt her curiosity quicken. She had no wish to encourage the self-important little man, but she wanted to fuel her dislike of the Jag man and she was certain Phil Collins was itching to spill the 'dirt' he had on him. "Everyone here seems to like Mr. Fitzwilliam," she said carefully, "but I have always found him a bit creepy."

"You won't repeat this anywhere?" asked Phil Collins in a lowered voice. "The last school he was at was a high school, and there was some sort of scandal. It involved stalking a student or another teacher. I'm not entirely certain, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was a student. Licentious behaviour too. It was all hush-hush, of course."

"And it was him?" Bella was shocked. She had not thought it would be as bad as that. "What's he doing teaching here, then?" 'And why is he questioning my background?'

"Well, it was about four years ago - it was his first teaching job. There's nothing concrete to go on, but all the evidence I've heard points to him. Soon after the whole kafuffle, he left the school, and he was the only teacher that did. His sister went there too - she was in grade 8. He pulled her out when he quit, and sent her off to some fancy-dancy private boarding school on Vancouver Island. Probably didn't want her to hear all the rumours that were going 'round about him."

"And he didn't teach again till he got this school started?" She asked, appalled that money could buy someone so lacking in morals out of a mess like that. She thought about the way he was always watching her, and the way he would just unexpectedly be standing near her when she looked up from a job - like today when she was stretching the canvases. Her skin began to crawl.

"No, he actually taught here the very next year, before the old school closed. And then he put all his energy into lobbying for this fine arts school. I don't think anyone else knows about this but you and me and Mrs. Berg." He leaned over and smiled at her. "We'll keep it our little secret, shall we?"

"Don't you think the rest of the staff have a right to know?"

"Mrs. Berg says it's just unverified gossip. She thinks her nephew is a saint. I don't want to disillusion her. Anyway, he's engaged to her daughter, so it's no wonder she wants to avoid a scandal. Just forget I ever told you. I mean, there is a possibility it wasn't him." His table tapping became more frenetic. Bella wished he'd stop. Her head was reeling from all of his allegations, and she felt a headache coming along. What she needed was supreme quiet.

"I have to load this kiln now," she said.

He still sat there, staring at her and tapping.

"Don't you have some floors to wax or something?"

"I've got all evening. I can create my own hours. I don't want to leave just yet, not when we are starting to get to know each other. How would you like me to take you for a drive along the lake one day? I could show you Mrs. Berg's place."

A portly middle-aged man came through the door. "Phil, old chum, I think Mrs Berg is in the office looking for you," he said. "You'd better hurry along. Don't want to miss her."

As Phil Collins jumped to his feet and scuttled out, the newcomer winked at Bella.

"Thank you," she said. "I thought he would never leave. I'm lucky that Mrs. Berg sent you to find him."

"Mrs. Berg?" he said with a mischievous grin. "For all I know she's in Timbuktu. I can never resist playing that trick on him. I love his reaction as he scurries off! I'm Eric Davis, the band teacher. You must be Bella, I've heard all about you."

"Oh, no. Not another one," moaned Bella.

"Don't worry - everything I've heard about you is good. My sources are much different from our friend Phil's. Would you like some help with that?"

Together they loaded all the little pots into the kiln. Eric Davis kept up his end of the conversation with amusing little stories, and Bella attempted to concentrate on his anecdotes and let all her dangerous musings subside.

"You must know young Adam by now," said Mr. Davis. "He told me he wanted to learn the bagpipes. I told him that if he wanted to make noise fit to wake the dead he might just as well just stick to his accordion."

Bella laughed outright at this. There is a lot to be said for the efficacy of laughter to dispel bad feelings. The alarm that all Phil Collins' insinuations had brought on, from her position as a potential threat to the program to the more serious charges against Mr Fitzwilliam, was tempered. When Bella joined June for their drive home, she was able to joke about her encounter with Phil Collins and his great pride in his boss's fireplace, and keep to herself those things he said that did not bear repeating.

Chapter 7

Posted on Thursday, 3 April 2003, at 9:34 a.m.

Friday, April 4, 2003. Bella filled in her time sheet and placed it in the box on Carla's desk. She was alone in the office; she had arrived fifteen minutes early, and Carla had asked her to man the phones while she ran off on an errand to the library. Picking up a sheaf of papers, she was just about to return them to her box when a tall thin woman came walking into the office. She was wearing a jersey sheath that clung to her frame and ended way above the knees. It was a rich butternut and set off the auburn highlights in her dark, straight, blunt cut hair. Highlights that must have been expertly placed at a high-class salon. Aunt Phillips could never have achieved such results. She peered around, as if trying to see into Chance's office and then glanced at Bella.

"Is anyone important here?"

Bella looked around the room, down at herself, and back at the woman. "I don't think so. It's just you and me." She smiled.

The woman did not return her smile. She paused, looked right through Bella, and then asked. "Have you seen D?" She dragged it out so it sounded like 'Deee'.

"I would imagine he's teaching," said Bella.

"On Fridays he has prep time before lunch," she said in a voice that insinuated, 'don't you know anything?'

"Why don't you try the staff room then?" This woman who could effectively ignore her presence and question her at the same time was irritating Bella.

"I expected him to be there, but he's not. Do you have any idea where he might be?"

"Look, I don't have his schedule memorised like you do. Why don't you get a GPS for him so you can track him whenever you need him? It's not my job to keep tabs on him." Bella smiled again and was about to turn away when the woman's hand shot out and grabbed her by the upper arm.

"Just who do you think you are?"

Bella shook herself free. "I could ask you the same question. I work here, and right now I'm in charge of the office. You aren't wearing an identity badge, and as such really have no right wandering around the school without signing in."

"Everyone knows me so I don't need one of those tacky badges. The clip would stretch this fabric."

"I don't know you," said Bella.

The woman tossed her head in annoyance and abruptly turned to leave the office, almost colliding with Chance who was just rushing in.

"Cassandra! Is this what you're serving for lunch?" He held up a piece of paper.

"Chance, never mind that. Who is this rude girl? She just insinuated that I don't belong here." She eyed Bella with distaste.

"What do you expect when you don't wear your identity badge? Bella is our lunch supervisor and art TA. We are really lucky to have her - she's heaven sent." He turned to Bella and smiled. "This is my cousin Cassandra who runs the hot lunch program."

"Caters the lunch program," amended Cassandra, looking down her nose at Bella. "So you're the lunch monitor. I've heard about you."

"So you're the lunch lady," said Bella, unable to suppress a smile.

Chance laughed. "You deserved that one, Cassandra. Now about this menu. What were you thinking? These are kids we're feeding. I thought it was supposed to be carrot sticks and baked macaroni and cheese today. This says endive and artichoke salad with juniper berries and balsamic vinegar, medallions of veal with asparagus and wild rice, and amaretto cheesecake for desert. Haven't I warned you to stop watching Emeril?"

"There's also Bavarian chocolate mousse," said Cassandra defensively. "What on earth is wrong with developing gourmet tastes in children? Besides, D loves asparagus."

"We are not catering to Fitz's tastes here!" said Chance. "Please try and remember that this program is for the children, not the teachers."

"Well I can hardly change it now," said Cassandra, flouncing off in the direction of the kitchen, where the volunteer parents were waiting to serve up the meal.

"What are you laughing about?" asked Chance, turning to Bella who had exploded as soon as Cassandra was out of range. He attempted to look severe, but the corners of his mouth were twitching.

"I was just imagining the children coming back for seconds of juniper berries," said Bella between giggles.

"And demanding artichokes every week!" Chance's shoulders were heaving.

Carla returned to her office to find both Chance and Bella hanging on the counter, laughing uncontrollably.

"What did I miss?" she asked.

"Cassandra," said Chance, handing her the menu.

"Tending to Mr. Fitz's needs again, I see," said Carla with a smirk. "The classiest meals I get are here at the school. I'll have to call Phil in to empty the garbage cans right after lunch; they are going to be full."

"Where is Fitz anyway?" asked Chance.

"I don't know, but Cassandra was desperately looking for him," said Bella.

"I saw him hiding out in the library, but don't tell her that," said Carla with a conspiratorial wink.

At the end of her school day Bella was exhausted. Hungry kids can get pretty grouchy, especially when all they've had to eat for lunch is chocolate mousse. They were practically climbing the walls. Even Cindy and Alyson, her faithful helpers, were not in their usual cheerful spirits.

"Rita wants me to invite Sofie over to watch P&P tonight with the rest of us," mourned Cindy. "If I ask her she'll just say no."

"It doesn't hurt to try," said Bella.

"I see her on the playground," said Alyson who was looking out the window. "I guess we'd better go out and talk to her. Is it okay if we go now? This mess isn't all cleaned up yet."

"You girls go," said Bella. "You really are a great help, but I'll be fine now."

They ran off and Bella resumed wiping printing ink from the desks. Later she got caught up in organising the cupboards and by the time she was finished the school was practically deserted. June had a dentist appointment after school, and was long gone.

Bella turned out the lights, and then sat in a chair to relax for a few moments before heading off on her walk home. She let her mind drift to the new painting she had been working on in the afternoon. A scene of the young forest outside her kitchen window. She slowly became aware of voices in the hall by the art room. She tried to shut her mind to them, but there was that deep masculine tone that continually intruded into her thoughts. D Jag and Chance. They were discussing the Blue Jays' season opener - the injury to Derek Jeter and his accusations that it was intentional - and Bella's interest was captured.

She loved baseball. Her dad had taken her to see the Blue Jays at B.C. Place in exhibition about nine years ago. She had been disappointed that Alomar had not played, but had seen the new acquisition, Carlos Delgado, playing at first. He looked like he could really crank the ball, and in the years that followed, he lived up to this expectation.

As she listened, Bella was surprised to hear that D's opinions of the Jeter incident coincided with her own. For some reason she had expected him to side with the superstar. She was just about to get up and leave the room, when the topic of conversation changed abruptly. There was no way she could go out and walk past them now.

"I don't think it's a good idea for a principal to date a teacher in his own school."

D's voice sounded impersonal and cold. The blood in Bella's veins turned to ice.

"We are not dating," said Chance. "But June is becoming very special to me. I care about her."

"People are already talking. After your rash move hiring Bella, it won't take much for the axe to fall. I don't want to lose this project because you are too impetuous."

"There's no rule prohibiting dating," said Chance. "I don't see how Katrina Berg can have any say over how I conduct my private life."

"Unfortunately, she's the most powerful person on the board. She has a lot of influence over your supporters. And you know we've gone way over budget on this. I've tried to offset costs as much as possible, but Aunt Kat is not going to like it when she discovers the amount I've subsidised. You can't let your infatuation for that girl jeopardise everything I've worked for."

"It's more than infatuation, Fitz," said Chance quietly. "I think I'm in love with her. And I think she likes me too."

"I think you're deluding yourself. I've watched her. She is friendly with you, but she doesn't really treat you any differently than a number of other friends she has."

"Do you really think so? I was sure . . ."

"Trust me Chance. I wouldn't steer you wrong. Look, if I really thought she cared about you I would say go for it, and damn the consequences."

As they had been talking, they resumed walking and finally they were out of earshot. Bella sat frozen, unable to come to terms with what she had just heard. How dared he presume to know how June felt? How dared he warn Chance against her? She realised she was shaking uncontrollably. First he had questioned her character, then he turned out to be a stalker, and now this! A completely unjustified attack on June's happiness. She almost ran from the room. As she walked home the turmoil inside her stewed relentlessly. She did not allow herself to remember how he had apologised for interrupting her painting session, how he had helped her with the canvas, the beauty of his guitar playing, the jolt she always felt when she looked into his vivid eyes, the sound of his voice. They were aberrations. Just when she had begun to discount all that Phil Collins had told her, the creep once again appeared in his true colours.

Bella had never done the walk from school to cabin quite as quickly before. She was still filled with such restless energy that she took up her canvas, and in a frenzy of green and blue and gold she emptied all her fury upon the rigid cloth.

The next morning, with June still raving about her latest painting, Bella allowed herself to be convinced to take the two completed canvases to the Lakehouse gallery. By the time they had breakfasted and June had parked outside the store, her resolve was fading. She had never attempted to sell her work before. She had taken part in the displays at college, but that was it. She felt vulnerable - like she was laying herself open for all to see the innermost parts of her soul, and she couldn't bear the thought of rejection. June squeezed her hand.

"It'll be fine. Aimee is a nice person. She'll love your paintings."

"You think everyone is nice," said Bella. She took a deep breath. "Well, here goes nothing. Wish me luck."

She got out of the car and collected the two paintings from the trunk, then she squared her shoulders and strode purposefully into the Lakehouse. The gallery and gift shop was upstairs, overlooking the restaurant. Without allowing herself to be distracted by the remarkable view from the huge windows, she mounted the stairs, and when she reached the top she looked about tentatively. Her courage was starting to fail her again. What now?

A woman came towards her. She looked very artsy and sophisticated. Her blonde hair was cut short and close, like a cap. Her eyes were black with mascara and liner, but her face was deathly pale - even her mouth with its opalescent pearl lip-gloss. Her nose was rather hawkish. She had enamelled abstract fish dangling from her earlobes, coming to rest on the unrelieved black of her calf-length dress.

"May I help you?" Her voice was clipped and business-like.

"I understand you take artwork on consignment," said Bella, proffering her two paintings.

"We deal in the very best here," she said. "What is your name - should I know you? Where else have you displayed your work?"

"Pardon me," said Bella, putting the paintings down to rest against her leg and stretching out her hand. "I'm Bella Gardiner."

"Aimee Berg." She took Bella's hand in a quick, limp shake. She gave her a penetrating look and then said, "Is this your first time?"

"Yes it is," Bella admitted, smiling. "I have only been in town for a few weeks. I work at the school."

"I think my cousin has told me about you," said Aimee. "Well, let me see your work. Bring it into my office where the light is better."

Bella was momentarily shocked. She knew very well who Aimee's cousin must be, and wondered what terrible things she had heard from him. Her hopes plummeted as she carried her work into the office. With the kind of build-up she had undoubtedly had, her chances for success were slim.

She set the paintings up on a ledge where the natural light from the window hit them full on. Aimee stood back in contemplation for a few minutes. Her expression was unreadable. She shifted the positioning of the paintings and studied them again from a slightly different angle. Bella felt tension gnawing into her. 'Just get it over with and tell me to take them home,' she cried inwardly.

Aimee turned to her. "I don't usually take work from unknown first time contributors, but your pieces have a certain intangible quality. The one is so very contemplative and warm, as if you understand the very rock you are painting. The other is filled with the vigour of growth; the new young forest threatening to overtake civilisation. They are quite unlike those of any of my other artists. You may leave them with me."

"Do you mean you will display them?" asked Bella.

"They will have to be framed," said Aimee. "I suggest a simple strip frame that will leave the paintings free to speak with their own voice. We will just add the price of the frames into the overall price. Do you have any idea what you want to ask for them?"

"I really don't know. I was hoping you would advise me."

"Good. That is very sensible of you. So many new artists think they can ask the same prices as established names. It's also not a good idea to undervalue yourself. You have to keep in mind that we charge a 40% commission as well. I'll get you a contract to sign and we can decide on the frames."

Aimee briskly went about all the business of the deal, and soon Bella was downstairs once more, slightly in awe of her good fortune. She had her work in a gallery, first try. The best one in town too! She pushed open the doors and saw June waiting for her on the small gravelled beach. She ran down to her. When June turned and saw Bella running towards her, a smile lit her face and she held her arms wide open. Bella was soon resting her head on her friend's shoulder, letting happy tears trickle undeterred down her cheeks.

"What did I tell you?" asked June proudly. "Anyone can see that your paintings are amazing. I'm certain they will sell really soon. Let's go for lunch to celebrate."

Bella agreed and, wiping her cheeks, took one last look at the lake before heading back to the restaurant with June. The water was still and clear, deep blue with the reflected April sky. On the distant shore were the tiny-looking buildings of the resort that nestled there in perfect tune with the landscape. A canoe slipped past her vision, its green prow cutting through the water as the lone passenger deftly paddled, ripples flowing outward and then softly melting into the surface once more. Far off, almost transparent against the lucid sky, snowy mountains backed the green of the closer hills, their ghost-like image recurring in the silent depths below.

Chapter Eight

Posted on Thursday, 10 April 2003, at 10:12 a.m.

The girls had decided to hold the creative writing club in the grade 6/7 classroom. Bella hesitated about agreeing to the decision, but there were three computers in the classroom and the computer room was already in use. She peeked her head in the doorway and noticed that Mr. Fitzwilliam was still at his desk. The girls were all waving for her to come in, but she was apprehensive.

"Is it okay for us to use this room?" She barely looked at him when she asked.

"It's great. I'll be out of your way in a moment." He looked a little distracted as he ruffled through some papers on his desk. "Just go ahead and pretend I'm not here."

"Thanks." Bella walked over to the girls. Pretend he wasn't there? Impossible. She could already feel his eyes boring into her back. She looked over to where he sat, but he was bending over some papers, making notations. 'I'm a bundle of nerves,' she thought. 'He probably resents me being here just as much as I resent his presence.'

"You're all here," she said to the girls. "How do you want to do this? Shall we read the stories aloud, or pass them around, or are there specific plot or grammar problems you want to discuss first?"

"Most of us have outlines we want to figure out how to develop," said Alicia.

"I'm not writing an outline," said Lise. "I'm just going to write it and see what happens. The colonel and Caroline are my main characters."

"I'm not going to write anything yet," said Heather, "but knowing me I'll probably end up writing a spoof of everyone else's stories."

"I was thinking of writing a funny story about Darcy and Lizzy and all the other characters complaining about the things writers make them do in all their fanfics," said Rita.

"Cool."

A discussion ensued about the various plots that the girls were developing and the use of dialogue; the next time Bella looked over, she noticed that D Jag had left the room. He could have gone directly after they had started, or have been there the entire half-hour and just left - she had no idea. She tried to tell herself that it didn't matter - that even if what Phil Collins had said were true, he wouldn't jeopardise his career again, or the program. She knew he felt strongly about that. A movement outside of the doorway caught her eye, and a chill involuntarily ran down her spine. Was he out there spying? A shadow shifted, and she got up and walked towards the open door, her anger rising. He was going to hear from her. She almost stormed through the doorway to come to an immediate standstill. Sofie was hovering out in the hall. It was obvious that she had been contemplating entering the room, but now she stood there, her eyes wide and afraid, staring at Bella. Almost immediately she started backing away.

"Don't go," said Bella. "I'm sorry if I startled you. Did you want to join the writing club?"

Sofie nodded, and then looked at her shoes.

"Come on in then," said Bella. "Everyone will be glad to see you. Have you started to write a story yet?"

Sofie shook her head. She looked up at Bella quickly, and then back down at her shoes. "I read the book." It was barely audible.

They returned to the classroom, and Sofie sat a little to the side of the other girls, even though Alyson and Rita moved to make room for her. There was a long pause in the discussion, and then Cindy broke the silence.

"Adam wants to join our group." Everyone stared at her instead, leaving Sofie free to relax a little.

"Adam?" asked Alyson. "He wants to write fanfic? Does he know what this writing club is all about?"

"Yes," said Cindy defensively. "He told me he read Pride and Prejudice, and he has a story all planned out."

"Tell him that we want to see the story first," said Rita. "And then we'll decide if we want to let him join. He has to prove he can . . . hornswaggle like the rest of us."

"Hornswaggle?" It was Rita's turn to be stared at.

"Are we all good hornswagglers?" asked Alyson.

"Beats me," said Rita. "I don't even know what it means, but if it confuses him, it's worth it."

"And no sheep," said Alicia. Everyone laughed.

"Yeah," said Sarah. "If we leave it up to him, he'll turn Darcy into a shepherd. He can't join our group unless he's going to take it seriously."

"But can't we write funny stories if we want to?" asked Cindy.

"Of course," said Sarah. "That's not what I meant. He can be as funny as he wants to; he just has to be serious about writing and not just join the group because he wants to fool around."

"If he only wanted to come here to bug you girls, I'd kick him out," said Bella. "That reminds me. Sofie, you're going to need a permission slip, so I'll get you a form, and one for you to give to Adam too, Cindy."

After the meeting broke up, and the last stragglers had gone, Bella sat and looked about the room. She had become really paranoid back there when she thought D Fitzwilliam was spying on them, and it was only little Sofie, too shy to come in and join the group. She shouldn't let him get to her like that. The whole idea of him skulking in the hall was ludicrous. She picked up all the papers the girls had left. She'd promised to read them over and give them feedback. She was really impressed with their writing skills and their inventiveness. And they were all such great kids too. She was really going to enjoy working with them.

In the hall, the mellow tones of music drifted towards her, softly intriguing. She knew who must be playing - it was too good to be one of the kids - but she followed the sound despite herself. It was a song that she loved. Her father had known this and had often played it just for her. His guitar playing had not been exceptional, nothing like the smoothly flowing notes she was hearing now, but he had been able to pick it out by ear, slowly and carefully, always stumbling at the same spot. She was filled with nostalgic longing as she stood at the music room door.

He was not in the sound room. He was sitting on a stool about three metres from her, his back to the door, skilfully running through the intro again, the music flowing around him like silk. Then he began to sing.

So, so you think you can tell
Heaven from hell,
Blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field
From a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?

Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?*

His voice was deep and clear, hauntingly plaintive. He sang through the chorus and then continued on, playing with a tenderness of feeling that brought the tears that had already sprung to Bella's eyes rolling down her cheeks. The last chorus he sang softly, caressing the words. Bella turned and ran down the hall, fighting her inward response to his voice. There was no way he was going to catch her standing there watching him. Especially if she was crying. It had touched her so deeply, and now she was filled with conflicting emotions. Was it just the song and her natural response to it, or was it something more? Her mind rebelled against the fact that it could be anything else. Not with the way he acted, so cold and distant all the time, his criticisms, and his dubious past. It was just the song. She was taken by surprise, unexpectedly hearing something that meant so much to her, nothing more. Even though his singing and playing were so evocative, it did not change the fact that he was a creep.

Bella wiped her cheeks dry before she entered the office. June was sitting at Carla's desk waiting for her, a wistful look upon her face. When she saw Bella, she smiled warmly, but not before Bella had caught her earlier expression.

"Where's Chance?" she asked. "Aren't you having a detention this afternoon?"

June grabbed her pile of books. "He had to go," she said noncommittally.

Bella fell into a trance again as they drove home. The song kept echoing through her head, teasing her with its haunting lyrics and the beauty of its execution. She looked out the window at the sunlight glancing off the empty branches of Douglas maple through a rift in the clouds. She was beyond coherent thought. She just let the world bombard her with its colours and shapes and drifted along the natural channel forged by the music in her mind. She was puzzled when they arrived home and June asked her if she was planning on getting out or if she was going to stay in the car forever.

They made a quick meal and then June went straight about her marking and her lesson planning. Bella sat and read the story outlines and fragments, laughing here and there, and considering deeply before she put her pen to paper and wrote her comments. After she was done, she reached for the sketchbook she always kept handy, and started to draw quick sketches of June as she worked at the table. She crept closer and began a close-up study of June's face, her long blonde hair stuffed out of the way behind one ear and trailing down her cheek. The hair on the other side hung like the screen of a backdrop. Her face was pensive. Bella sketched on and then looked at her picture in surprise. She had given June such a forlorn expression. She looked back at June again and realisation struck. The ever-cheerful June had been surprisingly quiet since they had left the school.

June glanced up at her. "Why are you staring at me?" she asked.

Bella brought her sketchbook over to the table and laid it in front of June. "Look."

"I don't look very happy," she said. "Why did you draw me like that?" She smiled shakily.

"That's how you looked June," said Bella. "What's up?"

"Nothing's up, really."

"I know you June. You do not normally look sad, and don't say it was my fault because I transposed my own feelings on to your portrait. This is real."

"I'm just being silly," said June, "That's all."

"Did something happen between you and Chance?" asked Bella, on the alert. She remembered what she had overheard that creep saying to Chance on Friday. He couldn't have had an effect on him, could he? "Did you guys break up?"

June gave Bella an exasperated look. "We've never been going out, so how could we break up? No, like I said, I'm overreacting. He was just sort of distant today. Not his usual friendly self. He must be preoccupied with some school business, because for the life of me, I can't think of anything I could have done to offend him." She smiled wryly, but Bella could tell that tears were not far off. "Don't worry about me. I'm fine."

"No you are not fine," said Bella, giving her friend a hug, "but I don't think you have anything to worry about. I know Chance really likes you, and there is no way you could have possibly done anything to offend him."

"We're just friends," said June. "I don't know why I'm acting this way."

'Because you love him too, if you could only just admit it,' thought Bella. 'And his friend is the biggest jerk in history.' But she could not say anything like that to June. It was better if she didn't know about that overheard conversation. Bella didn't want June to see how his precious friend had influenced Chance. She would talk to him tomorrow herself, and D Jag could go fly a kite in a thunderstorm for all she cared. This was one little skirmish that he was not going to win.

The next day Bella arrived at the school half an hour early, hoping against hope that she would find Chance in his office.

"What're you doing here so early?" asked Carla.

"I just need to talk to Chance about something. Is he available?"

"He's just on the phone right now, but you could go in as soon as he gets off. Is everything going okay with the job?"

"The job's great, Carla. It's nothing like that. I just want to get something else back on track that's in danger of getting derailed by the Jag express."

"Aha," said Carla. "He's still getting under your skin? You know, I think he kind of likes you."

"What?" Bella turned and stared at Carla. "You must be joking. Or else you must be talking about a different person, like that sleaze Phil Collins."

"Has he been hitting on you?"

"He keeps inviting me out to the lake to see Mrs. Berg's magnificent windows, with the bonus of a dinner and evening with him talking about her fireplace thrown into the bargain."

Carla laughed. "How can you refuse an offer like that?"

"Oh, it was easy. Believe me."

"Chance is off the phone now," said Carla, looking at her console. "Go knock on his door."

Bella knocked, and then entered Chance's office. He smiled in welcome and offered her a seat. As Bella pulled up her chair and sat, putting her sketchbook on her lap, she gave him a steady gaze and noticed that he was looking a bit strained. Of course he was. She'd heard what he'd said about his feelings for June. It was time to come straight to the point.

"So what's up?" asked Chance. "Has Adam been giving you a hard time again?"

"No," said Bella, laughing. "He stopped as soon as I told him that all he would get for his behaviour was garbage duty and not a trip to the office. He really likes you."

"We are great buddies. I can relate. I used to be quite a mischievous kid! So what did you want to see me about then?"

"I wanted to show you a picture I drew," said Bella. She opened the sketchbook to the last picture she had drawn and held it out to him.

"I always like to see your . . ." Chance's voice trailed away as he looked at the picture. His face warmed perceptibly and then became wistful. He looked for some time without saying a word and then he looked up at Bella. "She's beautiful, but you've made her so sad. Why's that?"

"I didn't make her sad, Chance. Somebody else did." Bella looked straight at him.

"Who . . . do you mean me?" His face was pale.

"I'm sorry, but I thought you needed to know, and she would never tell you. I care about you both, and I want to see you happy. She really likes you, Chance. I should know. Don't believe anyone who tells you different." Bella got up and reached for her sketchbook.

"Can I buy this picture?" asked Chance, unwilling to give the book up. He looked so pathetic that Bella almost laughed.

"It's yours, buddy," she said as she took the book and ripped the page out. "But if I were you, I'd go after the real thing. She's even more beautiful when she smiles."

"Thanks, Bella, for everything," said Chance. "You are a true friend." He took her hand and held it for a moment. She gave him a wink and left the office.

Now that she had her sketchbook with her she decided to take it out and draw the kids at play, if they would let her and not goof off. She sat on the stairs, circled by all the youngest children, and drew some rapid action sketches amid all their innocent praise. At the far side of the building a tall figure stood, leaning against the wall, staring as much out at the playing children as at her. She pretended that she didn't see him, and inwardly gloated that she had foiled him in his scheme to separate Chance and June. If he loved his art program so much, he would just have to stand up to his aunt himself. They were not going to be his victims.

*Wish You Were Here, Pink Floyd

Chapter Nine

Posted on Thursday, 17 April 2003, at 11:00 a.m.

Bella was sitting on the back steps with a group of grade 2's who were excitedly showing her that they had learned how to do cat's cradle, when she noticed a commotion on the playing field.

"Sorry kids, I have to go. It looks like someone got hurt playing baseball."

She ran over towards the backstop as a few grade 6's came running towards her.

"Bella, Kyle's hurt!"

When she got there it was obvious that nothing was seriously wrong. Kyle was sitting on the ground crying and rubbing his side as more and more children gathered around.

"I only want the people involved to stay," said Bella. "Everyone else go and play." She sat down on the ground beside Kyle, who she already knew to be a person who made the most of his injuries, and ensured that he was all right. "So what happened?"

"Jordan threw the ball at me and hit me in the side," he sobbed.

"He got hit with the pitch," said Tyler. "He leaned into it. He just wanted an easy base."

"It curved in on me!" cried Kyle. "Jordan throws way too hard. I told him I wanted a slow pitch and he threw a fastball."

"I threw it at half speed," said Jordan, who was standing and tossing the ball up and down.

"Is that the ball you were using?" asked Bella. "Can I see it?"

"It's mine," said Jordan, putting it in his glove.

"That's a hard ball isn't it?" asked Bella.

"So . . ."

"You aren't allowed to play with a hard ball - you know that. It has to be a tennis ball or a wiffle ball."

"That's no fair! Have you ever tried to play baseball with a wiffle ball?"

"You probably use them for soft toss at your practices all the time if you play little league," said Bella.

"Yeah, but you can't pitch properly with them. Or with tennis balls."

"A hard ball is too dangerous and you know that. Give it here."

"But it's mine!"

"You can have it back after school, you know the rules, Jordan."

"It's no fair. The rules are stupid and this school stinks!" Jordan threw the ball hard at the side of the school, where it bounced off the gym wall with a loud bang. All the kids who were in the area jumped back in shock.

"Jordan! You've just earned a free pass to sit in the hall. Move it. I'll come and talk to you when the bell rings." One of the kids picked up the ball and ran over and gave it to Bella. Everyone else looked at Jordan expectantly.

He stood there, breathing rapidly, staring back at her rebelliously then he turned and walked toward the school, his back rigid. Tyler made as if to follow him.

"Leave him, Tyler," said Bella. "He'll be okay - he just needs to cool off. The rest of you can still play if you use the right kind of ball."

"Take your base, Kyle," said Tyler, giving him a dirty look.

Kyle sprinted over to first base, obviously unhurt, and the game resumed. Bella watched for a few minutes to make sure that they were playing fairly, and then she did a circuit of the playground. When the bell rang she asked Rita and Sarah to see that no equipment was left on the field, and she went into the school to talk to Jordan.

She sat on the chair beside him and said, "What's up, buddy?"

He stared straight ahead at the office door for a few moments and then looked at her. "I'm sorry. That was a really dumb thing I did."

"Not the best decision you've ever made," agreed Bella. "Someone could have been hurt."

"I know. But it's not fair that we can't play with a real ball. It sucks with a tennis ball. That's not baseball!"

"How many of you kids are wearing jocks?" asked Bella. "None, of course. You can't tell me that your coach would let anyone on his team play or practice without one."

"I know, but I wasn't throwing hard. I'm not even a pitcher, really." Jordan gave her a pleading look.

"Jordan, get real. Kyle didn't have a batting helmet and the catcher had no protection, not even a catcher's glove, and most of the kids out in the field don't have gloves at all - besides, there's only a backstop and no fence. Other kids on the playground could get hurt. They aren't paying attention to your game."

"I wish we had better equipment," said Jordan, "And then we could play a real game. We could organise teams and stuff, and have a tournament, like we do with hockey. I don't like hockey."

"You're a real baseball player, eh?" said Bella.

"Yeah!"

"What position do you play, then, if you're not really a pitcher?"

"Shortstop."

"Hey, that's what I play!" cried Bella. "Who's your favourite player?"

"A. Rod. Did you know he hit 57 homers last year? More than anybody else in the majors? And he makes 22 million a year. That's more than the whole payroll for Tampa Bay!"

Bella laughed. "Texas paid way too much for him. I like Miguel Tejada, he doesn't hit as many home runs, but he's a better defensive player." Bella looked up and noticed Chance standing there, watching them. "My favourite shortstop was Tony Fernandez, but he retired a couple of years ago. He wasn't a big home run hitter, but he could stretch a single to a double, and a double to a triple, and he was a great clutch hitter."

"Is everything okay with Jordan, Bella," asked Chance, "or do I need to speak to him?"

"I think we're all straight. He just has to decide on his consequence." She looked at Jordan.

"I won't play baseball for the rest of the week," he sighed.

"Next time you lose your temper," said Bella, "take a deep breath and calm down. Give yourself time for your brain to kick in before you do anything, okay? Go back to class now."

"Can you ask Mr. Bing about the equipment?" Jordan looked at them both eagerly, and then hurried off to class.

"What was that all about?" asked Chance.

Bella explained the situation, and then told Chance about Jordan's idea for a lunch-time tournament. "They would need better equipment, though, and extra supervision, and I still don't think they should play with a hard ball, but a softie ball would probably work."

The teachers were all going from the staff room to their classes. June and D stopped in the hall and listened to Bella's suggestion.

"Do you mean one of those soft practice balls?" asked Chance. Bella nodded. Chance turned to D and said, "Hey, you pitch. Do you think that would work?"

"It would be way better than a tennis ball, and Bella is right. It wouldn't be safe to use a real baseball." D looked at Bella steadily.

Chance looked at both of them and then smiled. "I just got a great idea! Fitz, your favourite pitcher is Barry Zito, right?"

"And you like Rocket Roger. I'm glad we've cleared that up. What's it got to do with anything?" D looked over to him, one eyebrow lifted.

"I was thinking that the next time the A's play the Mariners, the four of us should go to Seattle and catch a game." He looked over at June with a big smile and she blushed slightly. Bella shuffled uneasily, and D just looked confused.

"I don't see the connection," said D. "One minute we're talking about new equipment, and the next . . ."

"I heard Bella tell Jordan that her favourite shortstop, besides Tony Fernandez, is Miguel Tejada. Isn't that a bit of a coincidence? Both of your favourite players play for the same team. So I thought . . ."

"Chance, the A's have a four day road trip in Seattle next week. We'll be teaching. I don't even know if Zito will be in the rotation. Then they have two games in the middle of July, and another two near the end of September."

Bella glanced over at D Fitzwilliam and looked away again. She had known about the upcoming games but not about the rest of their schedule. For someone like him a jaunt over to Seattle was probably an easy matter - a flight out of Kamloops or something. For her it would mean a ridiculously long and expensive bus trip.

"Okay, we'll go in July then. How about we all get together at my place next Thursday to watch the game? What do you think? June? Bella?"

June looked at Bella, and then turned to Chance and smiled. "Sounds like fun - now I've got to run to class - I think I'm late."

"Oops, me too," cried Bella.

"Say you'll come next week and I won't tell the principal that you were goofing off in the hall," said Chance.

"Okay," said Bella reluctantly, and then she hurried away. She could feel D's eyes on her as she almost ran down the hall. What had she just agreed to do? She hadn't been able to resist the smile on June's face - that was it. If it meant getting those two back together she could sacrifice her own pleasure. Anyway - she didn't have to talk to Mr. Jag - she could concentrate on watching the game.

"Sorry I'm late, Maddy," she said as she rushed into the room.

"Don't worry about it. The kids told me you were dealing with a problem, and Alyson and Cindy have been a great help."

"Don't tell me I'm going to have to start paying them for filling in for me," said Bella with a laugh. "Hmm, what would ten minutes pay be? I don't think I can do the math."

"That's okay Bella," said Cindy. "You can just give us extra help with our stories."

"Your stories are great, by the way," she said as she started looking around the class to see if anyone needed her help. "I like your big Dr. Darcy, Cindy, and your university setting is a wonderful idea, Alyson."

Both girls smiled and would have loved to keep talking about their stories, but Bella was soon busy assisting and explaining the new printing method to some of the other students. Later, during their writing group, Bella gave them all back their stories and they discussed all the comments she had made. New chapters were all shared around, and it was decided to have at least five chapters written and edited before they began to post their stories. Even Sofie had brought in a chapter, and she stood with her face burning as Bella read it.

"This looks really interesting," said Bella. "Whatever gave you the idea to write about a shy Darcy?"

"Well," she mumbled. "I know he's not shy at all, but I thought - what if he was? That would make the story different." It was the most Bella had ever heard her say at one time.

"There are a lot of people who really do think he's shy," said Alicia. "I went to this other board where they always have really big arguments about it."

"No way," said Sofie, then she stuffed her long straggly hair behind her ear and sat back down again.

The other girls all started to discuss different reasons why Darcy could or couldn't be considered shy and Bella sat back and smiled. The group was going better than she had ever anticipated. Not only was the girls' writing at a higher level than she had expected, they were very focused, and they appeared to know a lot about not only the Davies adaptation and the book, but also aspects of Jane Austen's life. She had trouble getting them to stop when their allotted time was over.

On the way home from school, June was all smiles.

"Looks like you had a good day," teased Bella.

"I was silly to be so upset the other night," said June sheepishly. "Chance was nicer than ever today . . . you don't mind about going over there next week, do you? I know you don't really like Mr. Fitz, but maybe it'll be a good chance for you to get to know him better. You two seem to have a lot in common."

"Just because we both like players on the same team doesn't mean anything," said Bella. "It's like saying I have a lot in common with Phil Collins because we both sweep floors."

"I would never encourage you to get to know Collins better," said June. "He even creeps me out. I don't know how you can compare the two."

"They are about equal in my estimation," said Bella. "I think I prefer Collins. At least I know where I stand with him. If he tries anything, I can handle him."

"Mr. Fitz wouldn't try anything!" said June defensively. "I don't know where you get such ideas about him. I know he said some critical things about you when you first got the job, but he didn't know you then. His opinion of you has changed, believe me."

"I don't care what his opinion of me is," said Bella contemptuously. "I know he's Chance's friend so you feel obliged to like him, but I'm under no such obligation."

June heaved a sigh of frustration and switched the topic of conversation, much to Bella's relief.

The next day was Friday, and another hot lunch day. Bella wondered apprehensively what exotic creations the children would be expected to eat this time and was pleased to find nothing more unusual than lasagne, and not even so much as an eggplant in sight to put the kids off their meal. Cassandra sashayed past without a glance in her direction. D had made the mistake of coming out of the gym and into the hall. She made a beeline for him and attached herself immediately.

"Why did you never tell me you love lasagne?" she asked coyly. "I had to find out from Chance. I hope you like today's lunch."

"Anything will be better than what we had last week," he said dismissively. He looked over at Bella who quickly hid her smirk. "Is Chance in his office? I need to speak to him."

"I think so," said Bella.

He began walking over, and then turned to look at Cassandra who was still leaning on him. "Do you mind? I need to talk to him privately about school business."

"Oh, Chance won't mind if I tag along," she said. "I might be able to make some helpful suggestions."

"I don't think so," he said, shaking himself free. "Don't you have a lunch to see to?"

"The volunteer moms have it all under control," said Cassandra, pouting.

"I think they could use your help," he said as he sidled past Bella and into the office.

Cassandra flung her sheet of hair back with a toss of her head and headed for the kitchen, but not before Bella had seen the look of disappointment that crossed her face. 'What a rotten guy,' she thought. 'He can't be nice to anybody.' She almost felt sorry for Cassandra, but she had to honestly admit that she deserved what she got, throwing herself at him like that, but still . . . that didn't stop him from having acted like a jerk. She filled out her time sheet and then did her rounds of all the classrooms. The kids seemed to be enjoying their food - that was a good sign.

When she got out onto the playground she noticed the kids crowding around the backstop. "Not again," she sighed, and sprinted over. When she arrived she realised that the situation was much different than she had anticipated. No one was on the ground crying, instead D Fitzwilliam was there unloading some boxes and passing out new baseball gear to the expectant kids.

"Look at this, Bella," called Tyler excitedly, "A Mizuno catcher's mitt!"

Kyle ran over holding two graphite bats. "An Easton and a TPX!" he crowed delightedly.

Jordan was hovering nearby with a wistful look on his face. "I don't suppose I'd be able to play today?" he asked.

"You set the consequences," said Bella.

"I could do garbage duty instead," he said hopefully.

"Sorry. I think your consequences are more logical. Anyway the gear will still be here on Monday."

"Yeah, but it's all new today. Do you believe Mr. Fitz went out and bought all this stuff after school yesterday? He's the best - and so are you. Thanks for asking them. And thanks for supporting me even after I did such a dumb thing."

"We all do dumb things now and then Jordan," said Bella. "The fact that you recognised that you made a mistake gives me confidence in you. I don't think you'll do something like that again."

"No way! Hey, can I be equipment manager?"

"I don't see why not. Just go ask Mr. Fitzwilliam."

"Bella look at these!" Tyler called over to her again. He was holding up catcher's gear with a broad grin on his face. The pads and chest protector were dark green, as was the helmet. Bella looked over at D who was smiling ruefully.

"That was the only colour they had in stock," he said. "It was a pure coincidence."

Jordan was soon putting the school's initials on everything with a permanent marker, and not letting anyone take anything until he had it on inventory. Bella knew that Mr. Jag had it all under control, so she reluctantly left the diamond and went over to supervise the playground. She was amazed at how quickly he had provided the kids with the equipment, and the obvious rapport he had with them. If she didn't know better, she would think he was a really nice guy. She grudgingly admitted that he was a good teacher, and he cared about the kids - it was just his personal life that was unethical. Unless he was using the kids in some way.

Her attention was continually drawn to the baseball diamond, and soon she found herself sitting with a group of young children, watching the game. D Fitzwilliam was umping the game between the pitcher and second, and even Chance was out watching from behind the backstop. Jordan was standing off to one side with a yearning look in his eyes. He looked so sad she almost broke down and told him that he could play. Bella got up and joined Chance.

"Thanks for the equipment," she said. "The kids are thrilled."

"Don't thank me, thank Fitz - he sprang for it," said Chance. "I think he had the time of his life at the sports shop in Clinton."

"He went all the way to Clinton after school yesterday?" asked Bella in amazement.

"He phoned ahead so they wouldn't close the store before he got there," laughed Chance. "There's nowhere you can buy this kind of stuff here."

Bella looked out at the field, staring at the enigma that was D Fitzwilliam. She didn't understand him at all.

Chance looked at his watch. "Bella, can you do me a favour and run into the office and ask Carla to hold the bell?" he asked. "I think I'll join them for a bit. If we start classes a little late it won't matter."

"I won't tell the principal if you don't," said Bella laughingly as she turned to go.

She was distracted on her way out again by a group of girls playing foursquare in the covered area. They squealed and jumped up and down when they found out that the recess period had been extended. When she finally got back to the ball game, there were a few teachers out watching too. Chance was at the plate, and the Jag Man was pitching. There were kids cheering on both sides.

"Strike him out, Mr. Fitz!"

"Throw the cheese!"

"Mr. Bing! Park it! You can do it!"

There were loud jeers when the first ball was in the dirt.

"1 and 0," cried Jordan from behind the backstop.

The next pitch, Chance squared to bunt, and dribbled the ball down the third base line. D ran over to field the ball and slid, throwing from his knees. The ball hit the dirt before first base and rebounded up for what should have been an easy out, but Adam misplayed it as it bounced off the heel of his glove and it went trickling into right field. Chance rounded first and headed for second. Heather's throw from right was high and Matt missed it. Chance continued on to third. Rita scooped up the ball and lobbed it to Dan, who leapt to catch it, only to fall and have it roll out of his glove.

"You throw like a girl!" yelled Kyle from the sidelines.

"I am a girl!" yelled Rita back to him.

Chance continued on around third and headed for home. Alyson ran in from left field and fired the ball right into Tyler's glove. The new catcher's glove was stiff, but he squeezed the ball and crouched, ready to lay the tag on his principal. Chance skidded to a stop and ran back towards third.

"We've got him in a pickle!" everybody cried.

Tyler chased Chance back and then threw the ball to Dan who almost tagged Chance when he put on the breaks and turned for home again. Dan threw low and in the dirt, and D, who was covering the plate, dove for the ball and swept his glove back as Chance slid in under the tag.

"Safe!" yelled Jordan.

Chance and D both sat in the dirt at home plate laughing.

"I had you man," said D. "Adam missed that catch on purpose."

"I had a home run on a bunt!" laughed Chance. He looked over to Bella and called, "Can you get Carla to ring that bell?" All the kids groaned.

"Can't we just play baseball for the rest of the day?" asked Tyler. "I read that doing sports makes the brain work better."

"Then yours are all working overtime!" said Chance.

Bella smiled and made her way back through the gym and into the office. Chance was a great principal. Why were they never like that when she went to school? Watching the game and all the excited kids had made her feel elated. She had really felt the urge to get out and play with them too. She thought back to the image of Chance and D Jag lying on the ground in the dirt laughing. She had never before seen the man so relaxed and carefree and so amazingly attractive. The moment the thought entered her head she checked herself. No good would come from thinking like that.

Chapter 10

Posted on Thursday, 15 May 2003, at 1:58 p.m.

"Bella!" called June. "The phone's for you."

Bella came from her room where she had been finishing off her latest painting. She gave June a questioning look as she took the phone, and June shrugged her shoulders. The call only lasted a few minutes and when she was done she hung up and turned to June with an ecstatic look upon her face. "Do you know who that was?"

June looked up from the stack of papers she was marking and gave Bella her attention.

"It was Aimee, from The Lakehouse. Someone bought one of my paintings!"

June rushed over and gave Bella a hug. "Your first sale! I'm so thrilled for you. Did she tell you who bought it?"

"She said it was a private collector who is a regular customer. She wants me to bring in a couple more paintings!"

"See! I knew you could make it as an artist!"

"June, I've only sold one painting," said Bella with a laugh. "That hardly constitutes making it."

"But she's asking you for more paintings. Soon she'll be asking you to do a show!"

"I'll have to have a lot more time to paint to be able to put on a show. I've only got one almost finished right now, and I'm not happy with it. I think I'll take the big canvas down by the lake tomorrow morning. Do you mind? I know we were supposed to go for lunch with Carla."

June could see that Bella was already looking abstracted, and she smiled indulgently. "Carla and I will be fine on our own. I can see that you need to get out there and paint."

"Thanks!" said Bella, kissing her friend's cheek. "You are too good to me. Get back to your marking - I'm going to see if I can reclaim that painting."

The next day was dry, but the sky looked threatening, and a strong breeze was blowing. Bella bundled up with a sweater and a jacket, and even grabbed a blanket to wrap around her legs if it got too cold. The trees should afford some protection from the wind, though, so she thought that working out of doors would still be doable. As Carla was going to pick June up, she borrowed the little car and drove deep into the provincial park, along the east shore of the lake.

She took a trail that led along one of the many deep arms of the lake where it was more protected and the water was only lightly rippled. A branch of fir hung down across her view, and through it she studied the broken reflections of the farther shore. The green of the branch darkened to near black silhouetted starkly against the shifting surface of the water. She finally chose a spot and then made herself comfortable and settled in to paint. The lake reflected the muted greys of the murky sky. To her blue she added ochre, white, and Indian red, until she had a colour more near the dull pewter of the water. She painted a dark undercoat and then set in lighter patches, and flowing ripples.

Just when she thought her painting needed something more, a canoe came into view, cutting sharply through her vision. She quickly opened a tube of cadmium yellow, blended it with her blue, and had the canoe sketched in before it disappeared again. She followed it with her eyes, memorising its sleek form, taking in the canoeist's confident posture. The stroke of his paddle. Then she became absorbed back into the layers of tone and form upon her canvas. After two hours she pulled back, and studied the tracery of branches that spread across her painting, framing rather than obscuring the patchwork of images that connected to reveal the small craft traversing the narrow arm of water.

Monday, Bella arrived at the office with barely enough time to sign in before beginning her rounds of the classrooms.

"I wanted to catch you," said Chance on his way through the office. "Fitz checked the internet and discovered that Zito isn't pitching until Friday. It's a home game against Texas. I know it's Good Friday, but is our get together still on if we change it from Thursday to Friday? June said it was okay with her if it was okay with you."

"If it's okay with June, it's okay with me," said Bella with a smile.

"Hey," said Carla. "I wouldn't mind seeing that game, but I don't have satellite. Would I be able to crash the party?"

"Cassandra has already invited herself," said Chance, "so I can hardly say no to you."

"Then I guess I'd be welcome too," came a voice from behind them.

Chance and Bella turned to see Phil Collins standing there, a sly grin on his face. "What time should I come? Is it a 7:00 start?"

A brief look of annoyance flitted across Chance's face before he sighed and said, "The more the merrier."

Carla gave him an apologetic glance. "Can I bring anything?"

"I've got it under control," said Chance. "Don't worry about it."

"Just as long as Cassandra's not catering it," Carla smirked.

"I was thinking pizza," said Chance.

"Good choice," said Bella. "I've gotta run." She toured through the classrooms, pondering the change of plans. She was glad that it was not going to be just the four of them, even though it meant she would have to put up with Cassandra and Phil. At least Carla would give her someone to talk to. June, she was hoping, would be monopolised by Chance.

June approached Bella after she came in again from playground duty

"I just remembered something that I hope isn't going to be a problem for you. On Friday I have to take the choir on a concert performance in Clinton, and in order to get back by game time I'll have to drive directly to Chance's house. You'll have to find a ride with someone else." June's forehead was furrowed with a little frown of concern.

"Don't worry about it," said Bella. "I'm sure someone will be able to drive me." She noticed Phil Collins, who was taking a screwdriver to a duct on the wall behind Carla's desk, look up in interest. She quickly put him out of her mind as she rushed off to the art room, but after school, just as she was getting her things together for the writing club, he turned up in the doorway, barring her exit.

"It seems the perfect opportunity for us has arrived," he said in a suggestive voice.

"I don't know what you are talking about," said Bella, waiting for him to move so she could leave the classroom.

"We have been wanting to get together," sad Phil with a slimy grin. "I am available to pick you up on Friday. I'll come a bit early and we can go on that tour of the lake."

"No thank you," said Bella. "I'm going with someone else. Now, can you please move? The girls are waiting for me."

"Who are you going with? You only just found out that June couldn't drive you before class. You haven't had an opportunity to talk to anyone else. I'm here - only too willing to take you. There is nothing to be afraid of, being alone with me. I would never make a move on you unless you wanted me to." He took a step forward, starting to close in on her, when another voice cut in from behind him.

"Phil, I'm driving Bella to Chance's house," said D.

"What? Where did you . . . when did you ask her?" sputtered Phil.

"I've been looking for you. There's an overflowing toilet in the boys' washroom you need to attend to," said D, and he stepped aside to let the flustered Phil Collins make a hasty retreat.

Bella just stood and stared at him. He had come out from nowhere as usual. Had he been lying in wait for her? And now he had the nerve to say she was going to Chance's with him. It was outrageous. Her anger started to build as she regarded him. She was about to make a scathing comment when he spoke first.

"I won't hold you to it."

At first what he said did not even register. He spoke sincerely, with consideration, and it was his tone more than anything else that left her speechless.

"I don't think it's a good idea to go anywhere alone with that guy. He can be very persistent. I 'm not sure he can be trusted," said D levelly.

"Do you think I can't handle him myself?" asked Bella, finally finding her voice. "I don't need you to tell him to get lost for me! I'm perfectly capable . . ."

"I was only trying to help," said D. His voice had become stony, expressionless. "If you can't get a ride from Carla, my offer still stands. Just let me know." He turned and departed as quickly as he had come.

Bella was left fuming. The man unnerved her completely. It was true that she could have managed to get rid of Phil Collins on her own, but she had to admit that D got quick results. The guy was obviously in awe of him, for all his talk. And she knew he had been close to putting his greasy hands on her. She should be grateful right now, but she wasn't. What D Jag had done was so managing - so arrogant - to say that she was going with him, without even asking her, and then to let her off the hook again so considerately that she couldn't even blast him for it. She had wanted to tell him he was the last person she would go with. Now she was left feeling almost guilty for her reaction. She walked through the door and slammed it to vent her frustration.

The girls were waiting for her when she arrived; Mr Fitzwilliam was nowhere in sight, thank goodness. She took a deep, calming breath and joined them.

"So, what was the reason for this extra, top secret meeting?" she asked, smiling. "It must be something pretty important if it couldn't wait until tomorrow."

"Bella," said Cindy, "I have Adam's story. Could you read it out loud to all of us so we can vote whether he can join the club or not?" She was waving a sheath of papers. Bella took them and smoothed the wrinkles out. There were a lot of pages, but the font was about sixteen point so it wasn't as long as it appeared, and most of the lines were very short. They almost looked like poems, or songs.

"The Pirates of Pemberley?" asked Bella, reading the title.

"Yeah," said Cindy. "He's mixed up Pride and Prejudice with Gilbert and Sullivan's Pirates of Penzance."

"Oh, I remember when we went and saw that last year!" said Sarah. "For weeks afterwards Adam was always running down the halls singing!"

All the girls broke out into the chorus, " But I'll be true to the song I sing, And live and die a Pirate King. For I am a Pirate King!"

"How many detentions did he get before he stopped doing that?" asked Rita, giggling.

"I think until Mr. Bing was so sick of seeing him sitting outside his office that he sent him out on garbage duty," said Alyson. "Read it, Bella!"

Bella read the story which continually sent the girls into whoops of giggles. The pirate king was Lady Catherine; the lieutenant Samuel, Mr. Bingley; the apprentice Frederick, Mr. Darcy; Major General Stanley, Mr. Bennet; his daughter Mabel, Lizzie; and the maid Ruth, who tried to convince Frederick that she was the woman for him, Caroline.

"I'd say that was pretty inventive," said Bella, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. "What do you girls think? He's got my vote."

"I don't know," said Rita.

"C'mon," said Alicia, "there was plenty of hornswaggling."

Everyone seemed to think he should join, so Rita finally relented, on the condition that he remember none of them were sheep. Cindy ran out to tell him the good news and bring him in, and the rest of the group got down to the business of discussing problems they were having, and reading over each other's work. They hoped to be able to begin posting after the Easter long weekend.

The next day Bella lost no time in organising a ride to Chance's with Carla. The rest of the week passed uneventfully, not only did Phil Collins leave her alone, but she barely even saw D Jag, except from the distance as he stared out onto the playing field through his classroom window.

Thursday when she arrived home there was a message for her on the answering machine. It was Aimee. Another painting had sold, and she was hoping Bella could bring in more for the long weekend.

"June, what shall I do?" asked Bella. "I only have this one that I'm not sure about. Should I take it in?"

"I don't know why you don't like it," said June. "It looks great to me."

"You always like everything," said Bella, squinting at the picture. "Okay. I guess I'll take it in. Can I borrow the car?"

June threw her the keys and Bella drove over to The Lakehouse. Aimee was disappointed that she only had one painting for her again, but she readily accepted it.

"This holiday is our first big weekend of the year, but from now on sales really pick up. The resort brings in a lot of potential buyers, and I had hoped to have more than two of yours. There has been a great deal of interest in your work. I could have sold that last one twice over."

"But I just brought it in on Sunday!" cried Bella in amazement.

"It was sold almost immediately, but the buyer didn't pick it up until this afternoon. If you paint something like it again, I have the other person's card. He wants to know right away. He liked that almost stained glass effect of the tracery of branches overlaying the lake." Aimee gave her a critical stare. "If you really want to make a go of this, you are going to have to devote more time to it."

"I'm sorry, I'm out of canvasses. I'm waiting for the order to come into the school."

Aimee went into her office and returned with two 16"/20" canvases. "Here. These are on the house. Bring them in as soon as you can. I hope you have ordered larger ones, though. Most of my customers like their paintings big."

"You know, I usually just paint what I feel. The idea of painting to order makes me nervous."

"Don't think too much about it then," said Aimee. "It's just a suggestion."

Bella left feeling slightly apprehensive, but at the same time elated. Her painting of the rock had sold in a week; this had taken her by surprise, but the even quicker sale of the canoe painting was more than she had ever counted on. That it had caught the interest of two people! She felt a sort of wrenching inside at the same time. Both paintings that had sold were like little pieces of her soul that were now lost to her. Would it always be like this? If she kept creating and selling those particles of herself would she end up an empty void, or would the very act of creating replenish that life force inside of her? She was too new at this to really know for certain if there was an answer to the question, or if it was even a question that needed to be asked. Along with this confusion she felt a surge of conviction that she felt would give her strength to face anything life could throw at her. Even the coming gathering at Chance's tomorrow evening.

Chapter 11

Posted on Tuesday, 20 May 2003, at 1:08 p.m.

It was a perfect spring day - the type that one dreams of in the deep of winter when the snow is thick on the ground and the trees reach up their empty branches to a heavy grey sky. Bella left June preparing for her concert and headed out with her painting supplies and down the trail behind their cabin. The trees changed from young evergreens to a second growth deciduous forest - trembling aspen, with its smooth, yellowish brown bark, mountain alder, and a sprinkling of Douglas maple. Sunlight filtered through them sending dappled shadows down upon the scrubby underbrush. After about half an hour on the gently descending path, Bella broke through the trees by the side of a creek bed. She wandered along it for a short while until she came upon a perfect rock for sitting on. Putting her things down beside her, she sat back and soaked in the gentle spring sunshine. Little white wildflowers spilled from the woods to the banks of the stream which flowed lightly over smooth pebbles and stones.

Bella got up and walked out into the waterway, balancing upon some of the larger rocks, until she came to a small, clear, glittering pool. She bent over and drank the cold water from her cupped hands, splashed it upon her face. She suddenly experienced that sensation of awe that starts in the pit of one's stomach and then flows throughout the body; awe at the amazing wonder of creation. The water, the trees, the flowers, the sun. The very air she breathed. There are many ways to pay respect, to honour, to worship and, deep in her soul, Bella felt a need to translate the complete moment onto her canvas. She brought out her easel and stood it there in the middle of the stream, balanced her canvas on it, laid her box of paints upon a flat rock, and unfolded her little stool. Water she had plenty, so there was no need for a jar.

She painted the layers that surrounded her. The air, mellow and sweet; the surface of the water, in places rippled to opacity, in others full of the glinting sun, and then again transparent to its depths and the bright rocks that lay magnified by its lens on the bed of the creek. And all about were the fractured reflections of the trees, fresh new leaves breaking out upon the branches. Though her stool and easel were precariously placed, Bella never wavered in the transposing of this scene onto her canvas until the sun had shifted completely and shadows began to lengthen. She lifted eyes to a landscape that blurred around her until it came into focus once again. Her arms were prickled with goosebumps in the cool breeze that rode down the long furrow the stream cut through the woodland. It was time to go.

Bella emerged from the woods to find Carla sitting on a lawn chair by the back door of the cabin.

"What time is it?" she asked, startled.

"Don't worry, I haven't been here long!" said Carla. "It's only about 5:00 - I decided to come straight after mass so we can chat a bit before we go. Maybe I can take you on that tour of the lake that Phil Collins is always promising you and show you Katrina Berg's house so the next time he invites you, you can say you've already done it."

"That would be great! So what is it with those people anyway?"

"Which people?"

"The ones who own this town - Mrs. Berg and Mr. Fitzwilliam, even your dad."

"Katrina Berg and my dad have basically run this town between them for as long as I can remember, and been at loggerheads most of the time. Dad's usually the one who ends up caving. The Fitzwilliams are different. They own most of the lakefront. The two families just used to use this as a summer home. When they were young I'd see D and his sister and cousin on the water, but I never knew them. They kept to their side of the lake. Then about ten years ago, D's dad, Henry Fitzwilliam, decided to develop the property and built the resort. I got a job there and I had a short but sweet love affair with Colin." She smiled reminiscently.

While Carla was talking, Bella had put her painting gear down and pulled up another lawn chair. "Who's Colin?" she asked, her interest deepening at Carla's disclosure.

"Oops, sorry. I forgot you haven't met him yet. He's D's cousin. He runs the resort now - it keeps him pretty busy. Anyway, I was eighteen and he was twenty-one. He was only working there for the summer. And what a summer! His dad, Harold Fitzwilliam, was Henry's twin, so you can imagine what he looks like. At twenty-one, tanned and fit, he was hard to resist. The problem is most girls feel that way about him and he - well - to tell you the truth, he glories in it." She laughed ruefully.

"So they are a lot alike - both of them with huge egos, hey?"

Carla looked at Bella quizzically. "You've got to get over that attitude, girl. Neither of them have huge egos, but they are not at all alike. D's reserved, serious, and dedicated. Colin's outgoing and full of fun, but a bit of a slacker. While D was at UBC at the top of his class, Colin was barely scraping through business school. He loves the resort, though, and they both have the same vision for it, which is good now that it belongs to D."

"I thought you said his dad owns it."

"His dad died the same year D graduated from university. His mom died when his sister was a baby. She's ten years younger than him, and he's completely responsible for her, that's why when he got his first job teaching high school she went to the same school. They lived in Vancouver, in Point Grey, but the school was in the east-end - not quite their neighbourhood."

Bella felt the conversation was getting too centred on D Jag, and too close to that touchy subject of what had happened at the school. "What about Chance? Did he grow up here with you?"

Carla took the change of topic in stride, but she wasn't giving up easily either. "Chance didn't move to Pember Lake until high school. His dad and mine were business partners and my dad convinced him to make some property investments here. Chance went to UBC after he graduated and met D there. He majored in school management; that's how he was able to become a principal so young. When D left that high school he was teaching at, Chance and Colin convinced him to come out here to work, and he hasn't looked back."

Even if Carla's object was to talk about D, Bella's was not. "I'd better go in and get changed, then you can take me for that drive you promised."

"Is that a new painting?' asked Carla, twisting in her chair in an attempt to get a look at what Bella had just picked up. "Can I see it?"

"I'm not really ready to show it to anybody yet," said Bella self-consciously.

"Give it," ordered Carla, jokingly. "I'll be gentle in my criticism." She made a grab for it and Bella reluctantly handed it to her as she ran into the house. Carla fell silent and just sat and stared at the painting in her hands. When Bella returned shortly she handed it back to her. "It's totally amazing."

"Thanks." Bella gave her a quick little smile and ran to put the picture in the house. They got into the car and Carla, putting on her best tour-guide voice, began to give her the spiel on Pember Lake that she had used on visitors the summer she worked for the tourist bureau. They had been reduced to giggling maniacs by the time they reached Chance's house.

"Thanks," laughed Bella as she got from the car. "I don't even think Phil Collins could have topped your descriptions of Mrs. Berg's home."

"Where do you think I got all that amazing detail? It was everything he has ever said to me on the subject all rolled into one."

Chance opened the door to them with a welcoming smile. "You two look like you're having a good time," he said. "I trust you can put a spark to this party. So far only Cassandra, Collins, and D are here, so the conversation is not exactly scintillating. Hopefully June arrives soon." He stared down his driveway wistfully.

"Isn't Colin coming?" asked Carla, disappointment tingeing her voice. "I had wanted to introduce him to Bella."

"No, he phoned. Some important guests are expected tonight and he has to host a meet and greet. His loss."

"Is the game starting soon?" asked Bella, suddenly wondering if she had just missed out on a set up. She wasn't interested in D or his fun loving cousin. They sounded like two peas in a pod to her, no matter what Carla had to say in their defence.

"They were just announcing the line up," said Chance, directing them into the living room. "I think it's the top of the first."

"Zito just retired the side," said D. "The A's are coming up to bat."

Bella took a chair as far from both him and Collins as possible, and settled in to watch the game. The A's had a five run first inning that included four doubles against Texas. Chance missed most of the action when he went to answer the door. It was quite a while before he returned to the living room with June, but nobody was paying him any attention. Their eyes were all on the ballgame.

"Oh! That hot pitcher is playing again," said Cassandra as she settled into her chair for the top of the third inning. "I love the way he stares the batters down with his green eyes."

"Do you mean he's a hot pitcher because his pitches are working tonight or are you just talking about his looks?" asked Bella.

"I like his technique," said Cassandra.

"What is it about his technique that you like?" asked D.

"Well . . . look at the way he throws a curveball," said Cassandra.

"He hasn't thrown one curveball yet tonight," said Bella.

"He's mainly using his fastball and change-up," said D, giving Bella a grin.

"That's what I meant," said Cassandra. "See, he's got them all out again."

"He doesn't have many strikeouts," said Collins. "Just wait until the next inning and he's back at the top of the Texas order, they'll get to him for sure. Alex Rodriguez will intimidate him."

"Look Bella," said Cassandra after a few minutes, "your favourite player got another lucky hit."

"The first time he got to first on an error, Cassandra," said Bella.

"Defensively Tejada's been stellar tonight," said D, giving her a long look.

"Well I don't think he's all that good compared to A. Rod," said Cassandra. "And A. Rod is taller and way cuter."

"Again, the definitive quality of a good player," smirked Bella.

"Well, that's why I watch baseball," said Carla unabashedly.

The fourth inning, Texas threatened and Collins began to gloat that he was being proved right, but with two out and the bases loaded, Palmeiro hit nothing more dangerous that an easily caught fly ball.

The bottom of the inning, Cassandra had another complaint. "Why doesn't that good looking pitcher ever get to go up to bat?" she said. "It's not fair."

"American league pitchers don't bat, Cassandra," said D in exasperation.

"Well, I think he'd be a good batter, so they should let him. Look how tall and strong he is."

"I wouldn't mind seeing all 6'4", 210 lbs. of him up to bat either, Cassandra," joked Carla.

"6'4"?" asked Cassandra. "That's just the same as you, D." She gave him a lingering look.

"I'm not 210 lbs.," said D shortly as he tried to concentrate on the game.

In the fifth inning, Oakland scored two more runs on back to back homers by Long and Hernandez. After that Hatteburg hit a double and the Texas pitcher, Thompson, was pulled.

"I would have pulled him way back when he got in trouble in the first," said Collins knowingly. "He's just making Zito look good. You'll see, now that the game is almost unattainable, the bullpen will come in and hold the A's down. Should have done it in the first!"

"The manager would have to have a heck of a lot of confidence in his bullpen to do that," said D. "Anyway, after the first, Thomson really settled down. Until now, that is."

Chance's cheering disrupted them as Hatteburg scored on an error by the relief pitcher, Esteban Yan. This was closely followed by Durazo's fourth homer of the season.

"I'd say that wraps the game up for us," Chance yelled over to Collins. "It's nine to nothing now. You might as well get your money out."

"As they say," said Collins pompously, "the game's not over till the fat lady sings."

"Well, I'm not singing!" said Carla as she jumped up to go to the kitchen. "Anyone want more pop or pizza?"

"You're not fat, Carla," cried June, always ready to defend her friend.

"Well, I'm not skinny either," she shot back.

Cassandra preened herself. She stroked her hand down the fabric of her skin-tight stretch jeans, and then pulled her little sun-fire tank top closer to her waist, bringing attention to the fact that no one in their right mind would ever call her fat. "D, Tessa is so slim. I envy her so much."

"I don't see why you should envy her," said D blandly. "After all, you are much thinner."

"Do you really think so? I do love Tessa - is she coming this summer? Next time you email her, tell her she has to come - I miss her so much."

"Tess is coming," he said and tried to turn his attention back to the game.

Cassandra turned to Bella. "Tessa is D's sister. We are very close. She's graduating from grade 12 this year! I'd give anything to be able to be there!" She shot a meaningful glance at D, but got no response. "Don't you just love her name? She's named after that character in that book. You know. Tess."

"Tess of the D'Urbervilles?" asked Bella.

"That's right! Their mother was so romantic and named them both after famous characters from her favourite novels, but D is so mysterious. He's not telling who he's named after." She pouted and cast a glance at him through lowered lashes.

"He's not being mysterious," said Chance. "He just finds it embarrassing, and with good reason."

"Why? Is he called Dimitri or something, after Dimitri Karamazov?" asked Bella, jokingly.

D gave her a pained look. Obviously he didn't like his name being the subject of conversation.

"How about Dill, from To Kill a Mockingbird?" laughed Carla. "That would be embarrassing!"

"No! It's something romantic, of course," said Cassandra, a dreamy look coming to her eyes. "It must be Daniel, after Daniel Deronda. I just saw the Davies adaptation on PBS, and he was soooo handsome."

"You mean the George Elliot novel?" asked Carla. "He would hardly be embarrassed about that - anyone could be called Daniel. This name would have to be distinctive . . . what about Dorian from The Portrait of Dorian Grey?"

D was sitting in his chair, ramrod stiff, looking directly at the TV screen, a scowl deepening on his face.

"His cousin Colin is nicknamed Colonel, after some character in a book or movie or something," Phil Collins cut in.

"Oh, that has no possible connection!" said Cassandra. "He's called that because of Colonel Fitzwilliam, and nobody even knows what his first name is. No, it must be Daniel." She sat back in her chair smugly, not noticing the concerned glance that Chance shot his friend.

Bella caught the glance, though, and suddenly everything became clear to her. She was positive she now knew what his name was and she understood his embarrassment completely. He must have been plagued by all the young women of his acquaintance when A&E was showing Pride and Prejudice. She kept quiet. Even if he was her worst enemy she couldn't do that to him. Not after he'd gone to such lengths to change his name to an initial. It wouldn't be kind at all.

After the conversation about his name, D retreated into his shell. The game ended in a complete game shutout for Zito, but he couldn't enter into Chance's glee as he collected his money from Phil Collins. Even though his stare was often directed to the corner of the room where Bella sat, completely unnerving her, barely two more words passed his lips until he got up to leave.

When he was gone, Collins became even more loquacious and moved to sit closer to Bella who didn't want to leave until June and Chance had the opportunity for a long visit. They had gone out onto the balcony together and nothing in the world would induce her to interrupt them, not even the insinuating comments of the slimy janitor. The other day she had adamantly told D that she could handle the creep, and she intended to prove it, even though only to herself. Luckily Carla came to her rescue and joined them, while Cassandra sat and watched Sports Net, her expression becoming increasingly bored as all the games of the day - hockey, baseball, and basketball - were recapped. It was quite late when June and Bella drove home, and the time spent with Collins had been excruciating, but the light in June's eyes, and her smile of contentment made all Bella's sufferings worthwhile.

Chapter 12

Posted on Friday, 23 May 2003, at 10:55 a.m.

The days slipped into one another as school went into high gear. When Bella wasn't at Pember Elementary, or working on editing the stories for the kids, she was painting. Sales were beyond her wildest dreams. She had taken the creek painting in to the gallery on Easter Saturday, and had been surprised on the next Tuesday when Aimee had phoned her again wanting more of her work. Guests from the resort had bought two of the three pictures on display.

Bella spent her weekends trampling through the woods or down by the lake, searching out scenes that spoke to her. Usually she would find her rhythm easily and become so absorbed by what she was doing that she didn't notice the rest of her surroundings or her silent observers. Other days nothing would go right. People would wander up and stand right behind her shoulder, comment, and attempt to strike up conversations. Sometimes her mind would wander and she would feel that every touch she placed on the canvas was forced. As much as she tried she would not be able to catch the essence of the scene and she would end up packing up and trudging home in frustration. She often saw Daisy running through the woods with her master, but he always ensured that the friendly dog kept her distance if Bella was involved in her painting. She knew that there were times when he stood and watched her from a distance, but she did her best to ignore him.

Victoria Day weekend arrived; the Jays were finally at 500, Zito was 6 and 3 with a 2.51 ERA, the inaugural game of the CBL was slated to play the following Wednesday and though they had all watched televised baseball on their own, the group from Good Friday had not come together for a game again. It didn't bother Bella in the least. What did please her was that June and Chance had been seeing a lot of each other during this time. While she had been busy putting her view of the outdoors on canvas, they had been taking hikes and going on picnics together. They had become almost inseparable, and at school even June's grade3's and 4's were giggling behind their backs when the principal continually visited the classroom on the weakest of excuses.

The writing group was also very gratifying for Bella. The girls and Adam were getting along well, and still as focused as ever. Their stories were now being posted at the internet site, and reading all the responses brought a great deal of satisfaction and delight. Jordan was even showing some interest in joining the group. He still had yet to read the book or see the movie, but he had taken to sitting in on the discussions and reading and editing some of the stories for the girls. His idea for a P&P baseball story interested Bella, but she made a provision that he could not write one until he had at least watched the video. A marathon viewing session was set for Saturday morning, unless the weather was amazingly good.

The only thing that irritated Bella during their club sessions was that D Jag had taken to staying in the classroom, ostensibly marking papers. She knew she had no right to complain - it was his domain after all - but she felt he only did it to keep an eye on her. Luckily none of the kids seemed to mind his presence at all, and he never involved himself in any way. Whenever Bella looked over to where he sat, he generally appeared to be concentrating on the work in front of him, though sometimes she noticed him staring abstractedly out to space, and more than once caught his eyes fixed upon her, an unreadable expression on his face. He would normally look back down at his desk immediately, but once his eyes had held hers for a long moment that seemed to stretch unendingly until Cindy's repeated questions returned her attention to the group. She had been left feeling confused and slightly breathless.

Friday afternoon when all the kids had run off, Bella slipped one of her favourite CDs into Maddy's player and set about giving the art room a good tidying before the long weekend. She was organising paint bottles and singing along to the music when she suddenly sensed a presence. She looked up and saw the Jag man standing in the doorway, contemplating her.

"I didn't want to disturb you." He did not sound apologetic and his gaze did not waver.

Bella blushed. How long had he been there? She never sang in front of people and she realised that in her involvement she had been singing quite loudly. She waited for him to state his business, but he just stood and stared. An uncomfortable feeling crept over her.

"Did you need anything?" she asked brusquely, almost rudely.

Her walked into the classroom and came quite close to where she was standing. "No, I heard you singing and realised you hadn't left yet . . . I wanted to tell you something."

She waited again as he absently took a tube of paint and began spinning it in his fingers.

"Do you mind?" she asked, extending her hand for it. "I'm trying to get these things organised."

"Sorry," he said, handing it back to her. Their fingers touched briefly.

Bella couldn't account for the thrill that the unexpected contact sent rushing through her. She looked away. "So what is it?"

"What?" He looked distracted.

"What you came here to tell me." The whole situation was getting a bit weird. The room had become stuffy. Bella was finding it difficult to breathe steadily.

"Oh!" He suddenly smiled a little crooked smile that made him almost look like a child. "I wanted to thank you for what you've done with Sofie in your writing group. You've really brought her out of herself. I've always known her potential, from her work, but I've never been able to get her to say more than two words to me - or make eye contact."

Bella felt her face grow hot and looked away again. She wasn't sure what she had expected him to say - but clearly it was nothing like this. "Thanks."

"She actually said hi to me when she came into class this morning."

Bella smiled. "Are you sure it's my doing that she finds you less intimidating?"

"Certainly," he said, grinning. "I haven't been any more charming than usual lately."

Bella wondered if charming was a word she would ever use to describe his behaviour, although right now he was actually being quite nice. It was disconcerting.

"So you like the Counting Crows?"

Bella looked at him, startled, and then remembered the music that was still playing behind them. She had been so caught up in the strange conversation that she had been completely oblivious to it. "A lot."

"I figured as much the way you were singing. You didn't miss a beat." Bella blushed again. "Do you have the Across a Wire album?"

Bella looked at him blankly. "No, I've never heard it. I thought they only had four . . . isn't Hard Candy the latest?"

"This is a live album they put out after Recovering the Satellites. It's a two CD set - the Story Tellers CD is mainly acoustic with new arrangements of songs from the first two albums. It's very mellow and evocative - you should like it. I thought Maddy had my copy here." He began sorting through the CDs while Bella made an attempt to get back to straightening out the paints. "It's not here, but I'll look for it at home and bring it in for you."

"Thanks." There was nothing else she could say.

"Have you ever seen them in concert? They put on a really powerful show. Adam Duritz' performance is incredibly emotionally charged."

"I've never seen them, but I would love to," Bella said honestly, not thinking how her words might be interpreted.

"Really? They aren't playing in Vancouver on this tour, but they will be in Seattle on July 11th. Maybe we could go." He was still smiling at her rather disarmingly.

Bella was completely taken aback. What did he mean, 'we could go'? There was no we - not in the sense that conjured up. "Seattle's too far." She said it dismissively as she turned back to the paints she was organising, completely missing his reaction. The smile disappeared to be replaced with a much more severe expression. She felt him come up close behind her and her heart began to pound furiously.

"Are you putting the greens with the blues for any particular reason?" he asked over her shoulder, and then he turned and left the room as silently as he had come.

He must have been half way down the hall before Bella realised that she was allowed to breathe.

Saturday morning dawned rainy and grey as is common with the May long weekend in BC. Either it is the first spell of really hot weather, presaging summer, or it is wet, dismal and dreary. There are no in-betweens. Bella gave up on the painting trip she had planned to the farther reaches of the provincial park. Instead she had to be content with what could be done from the house. She puttered about touching up one or two paintings that had been giving her problems while June desperately wished for a change in the weather, if only to rid her friend of her cabin fever. By lunchtime it was raining harder than ever. June smiled apologetically as she left to have lunch with Chance.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" she asked hopefully.

"You and Chance don't need me tagging along."

"We'd love to have you join us - you know that!" said June with such sincerity that Bella almost laughed.

"Don't worry about me, June. I'll be fine." She looked out the window at the pounding rain. "I'll probably end up going for a walk anyway."

"In this downpour?"

"Sometimes walking in the rain can be great," said Bella with more enthusiasm than she actually felt.

After June had left, she made an attempt at writing her own fanfic story which was giving her much more trouble than any of the kids were having with theirs. There was just something about Darcy that held her up. Whenever she wrote him he turned out surprisingly like someone else. And no matter how many times she typed that his eyes were brown, she kept picturing a piercing green stare. Why had she ever discovered the man's first name? She wished that Cassandra had never brought up that silly topic that day. Of course everything Cassandra ever said was close to meaningless, so how could she have expected anything better from her?

As Bella pondered these things she stared out the window at the raindrops trickling down the partially fogged pane, the indistinct colours and shapes of the yard beyond and the thickness of the driving rain. Without thinking twice, she set up her easel, laid out her paints, and brought out a pristine canvas. She included fragments of her inside world, the windowsill, the curtains, the slash of table in the foreground with the little jar of Solomon's seal, and worked her way to the blurred, green depths on the other side of the mottled glass.

When evening came, she went on the computer and gave herself up to reading all the latest stories on the board as well as delving into the archives. By the time June returned home she had fortified her vision of Darcy with all those reincarnations in Colin Firth's image. She felt more relaxed than she had since the previous afternoon when she had had the perplexing encounter with D Fitzwilliam. Actually it was better to think of him as D Jag and exorcise the name from her memory completely. Chance came in with June and the three of them stayed up very late drinking hot chocolate and sharing light-hearted conversation. Eventually Bella managed to turn in. The last she saw of them, they were snuggled together on the sofa speaking very softly. She went to bed suffused with a feeling of warmth and happiness.

The rest of the weekend was summer hot, so hot in fact that Bella was tempted to test the waters and go for a swim. Her only problem was that her bathing suit was still in the bureau at Aunt Phillips' house, or rather - if she knew anything about the matter - now in the possession of her sister Layla. At the moment money was not a problem so Bella treated herself to a new suit from the boutique by the lake. It was touristy and quite expensive, but she finally found something that was not too pricey, relatively modest and of a design that it was actually possible to swim in. It was two piece, dark green and looked as if it was probably actually an exercise outfit. She met Carla at the beach in town and the two of them stretched out on towels and revelled in the warmth of the sun.

"Who would believe this after yesterday?" sighed Carla as she rubbed sunscreen on Bella's back.

Bella stretched out on her stomach, stuffed a pillow under her chest, and reached for her book.

"I'm glad you're taking some time off and getting out," said Carla.

"I'm out most of the time," said Bella with a little wink.

"You know what I mean. You never get out and do anything with people. How are you supposed to find a man if you're always slogging through the underbrush with a canvas under your arm?"

"I didn't know I was supposed to be looking for a man," laughed Bella.

"Isn't that the point of life?" Bella knew Carla was not being completely serious.

"Well, I can see that hanging out with the in crowd is really working for you."

"I know, I have to beat them off with a broom!" Carla looked wistful. "Oh no! Don't look now. Play dead or something. Phil Collins at 4 o'clock! And he's wearing a Speedo. This you do not want to see - trust me." Carla threw a towel over her face. Bella pulled her pillow out from under herself and plunged her head into it.

"Is he gone?" she cried through her giggles a few moments later.

"I don't know. I'm afraid to look," gasped Carla. "I can't keep this towel on my head anymore. The heat is unbearable."

Bella lifted her head slightly and scanned the beach with one eye. She saw quite a few of the kids from school, but the janitor was nowhere in sight. "Coast's clear."

They were soon joined by Alyson, Cindy and Alicia who were bursting to tell Bella all about the video watching session of the day before.

"It was hilarious!" cried Alicia. "Adam couldn't stand watching Bingley! He left before the first video was over, swearing never to watch it again!"

"I think Cindy was upset about that," teased Alyson. "She ran to the door and tried to convince him to come back - but he said, 'when sheep fly'!"

They all convulsed with laughter, even Cindy who didn't appear to mind their teasing at all. Later Rita, Sarah and Heather came along and they convinced Bella to join them for a race to the raft and back to shore again. When Bella hit the water it was a lot colder than she had imagined. There was nothing for it but to keep going as fast as she could. She knew that if she took it slowly, she wouldn't get past her waist. As soon as possible she dove under and came up gasping from the full shock of the cold. If she didn't know better she'd have thought the lake was glacier fed. When she got to the raft she was tempted to pull herself out of the water, but she knew getting back in again would be even harder, so she pushed off and splashed her way back to the beach. She was beaten only by Lise who had joined them just in time for the race and was waiting for her in the shallow water, not out of breath in the least. Bella was heaving and her head was spinning.

"How do you do it?" she asked when she could finally speak.

"I do it all the time," said Lise as she slid back into the water without a splash and swam quickly out to the raft with even strokes.

"She's an amazon!" said Rita who had just emerged from the water, her teeth chattering.

"Let's get back to the towels before I turn blue," cried Heather.

When they ran across the sand to Carla, Jordan, Tyler and Adam came along. Jordan sat down right beside Bella and began to give her his impressions of the movie and outline the plot of his baseball story.

" . . . and Lizzie is going to be the shortstop." He looked at Bella soulfully. "Can I join the club now?"

"As long as you get a permission slip signed," laughed Bella. "Your story sounds great."

Jordan beamed and Alyson gave him a slap on the side of the head and told him to stop being so goofy.

When they returned to their car about an hour later Carla looked over to Bella and said ruefully, "I take you out to try and meet some new people and you spend your time hanging out with all the school kids!"

"Who else was there to meet?" asked Bella. "Anyway, they are good kids. I had fun."

"And I guess you enjoyed the adulation."

"What do you mean?" asked Bella, stopping and staring at Carla accusingly.

"Jordan. I think that kid has a crush on you." Carla giggled.

"You're imagining things," said Bella.

"Am I?" asked Carla as she opened her car door. "Ask Alyson what she thinks about it! I noticed she's got eyes for him herself. He is kind of cute, you know."

"Carla! I'm reporting you to the principal!"

Monday Bella joined June and Chance for a hike and then they ended the day off with a barbecue back at the cabin. Tuesday everyone was at school again feeling like the weekend had not been long enough. After school, Jordan joined the club, having brought his mother to the office in the morning to sign a slip for him. Bella watched the boy and saw no sign to back up Carla's suspicions. As far as she could see he was just eager and talkative, nothing more. Wednesday she was back in the art room tidying up, Counting Crows playing softly, when she had a distinct feeling of deja vu. She looked up and was not surprised to see the Jag man standing in the doorway. He had a CD in his hands.

"You can have it for as long as you like," he said as he came forward, holding it out to her.

"Thanks," she said, taking it, careful that their fingers did not touch again this time. Even so, she was feeling quite unsettled.

D stood looking at her, his head to one side, and then said, "Have you ever done that?"

"What?" she asked. What on earth was he talking about? He was continually confusing her.

"What he just said - in the song. 'We drove out to the desert just to lie down beneath this bowl of stars'"

"I've never been to a desert," Bella answered, still at a loss.

"No, I mean lie down under the stars. It's exactly like he said. There is a meadow at the resort . . . would you like to come over tonight and check it out?" His expression was eager and childlike; it reminded her of Jordan, and for the life of her she just couldn't let him down.

"Okay," she said before she could consider the matter fully. It was the idea and the look that had convinced her. When she thought about him, and that she had just agreed to be alone with him in the dark, far away from everything, she tried desperately to think of a way she could rescind the agreement. Looking at the stars with him was the last thing she wanted to do. "Maybe June can come too."

His ready smile faded a bit but all he said was "I think she and Chance are doing something tonight. I'll pick you up about nine. You'll need to dress warmly because it's still quite cold at night." With that he left the room before she could think of an excuse not to go.

When she met June and Chance in the office she pleaded with them to come with her, but Chance just smiled and said they couldn't change their plans. In fact, they had to leave the school at once because June was coming to his house to watch the Montreal Royales play the London Monarchs on The Score. It was history in the making - the first ever Canadian Baseball League game. The pre-game show was at 4:00. He followed June's car back to the cabin and she rushed in to change quickly and join him in his Cherokee. He talked lightly with Bella while June got ready.

She came running out of the house and kissed Bella softly on her cheek. "Have fun!" she said brightly.

Bella was left standing in the driveway by herself with a sinking heart, watching her last hope for rescue drive off. She looked down at her hands and realised she was still holding the CD that D had lent her.

*Lyrics from Mrs. Potter's Lullaby - This Desert Life - Counting Crows.

Chapter Thirteen

Posted on Tuesday, 27 May 2003, at 12:17 p.m.

Bella went inside the cabin. She had five hours to kill until her unwanted 'date'. No - she couldn't even think of it as a date. Appointment. That was more like it. She prepared herself some food and then, for lack of something better to do, put on the CD. The plaintive notes of Round Here filled the room. She made herself comfortable on the sofa and let the music take her away. It wasn't long before she realised that the Jag man was perfectly right. She loved the CD - the change of pace - songs that once had a driving rock beat were now sweetly tender, gently teasing her senses with wistful longing. She played it over and over and felt all her trepidation filter away as if on a cleansing breeze.

The knock on the door at nine o'clock startled her. She had so lulled her mind that she had almost forgotten that she was due to be picked up. Bella rose and walked to the door, feeling her reluctance return with each step. He seemed a little uneasy himself as he stood in the doorway.

"How do you like it?"

"Pardon me? Oh . . . I love it - thank you. Do you . . . do you want to take it home now?"

"I said you could keep it for as long as you like, remember?" He smiled crookedly.

"Right - yeah - thanks. I'd like it a bit longer." Bella grabbed up her sweater from a chair and then hesitated. She wanted to walk through the doorway but he was standing in the frame, seemingly as immovable as a rock. "I'm ready to go now."

D suddenly came to himself and moved abruptly. He opened the car door for Bella and closed it behind her, then got into the driver's side and set the engine purring. "Is this okay?" he asked and Bella was left yet again to attempt to figure out what he meant by his ambiguous questions. "The music," he clarified.

Bella became aware of the resonant tones of cello. "I like it," she said quietly. She sat close to the window and looked out at the darkening sky, attempting to appear as calm as possible. The inner peace that she had achieved earlier had fled with Mr. Jag's appearance. Throughout the drive, though she attempted not to dwell on them, the images created by Phil Collins' words arose to haunt her. It didn't help that her companion was silent the whole way. When they arrived at the resort, he drove behind the buildings and then stilled the motor and put out the lights. Silence was almost complete in the sudden darkness. All that Bella could hear was the thumping of her heart. D Jag turned to her and she instinctively placed her hand on the door handle, ready to make a move if she had to.

"We're here," he said and smiled softly as he reached into the back seat and pulled a blanket into his arms. "I think we'll need this to lie on - the ground is still cold."

Bella discovered that she was shaking. She crossed her arms over her chest and rubbed herself.

"Are you cold? I have an extra sweater here if you want it." D leaned back again and caught up a thick raglan pullover.

"I'm fine," said Bella.

D got out of the car and came over to open the door for her as she foolishly chastised herself for not getting out on her own. Somehow she had not been able to move. She smiled her thanks as she climbed out and D took her elbow and steered her out into the overwhelming dark. Gradually she became accustomed to it. In the opposite direction light spilled from the windows of the lodge and even the tinkling of music carried on the night air. The meadow was alive with the chirping of crickets and the occasional distant croak of a frog. The waning moon was half full and with the help of myriad pinpricks of starlight gave ample illumination in the open stretch of grass.

"Don't look up yet," said D. "Wait until we get to the middle. You'll see how great it is." His tone was low and warm and sent shivers through her that had nothing to do with the cooling evening air. If only the voice belonged to someone else. A person who was actually like the way it sounded and not some kind of strange predator. Bella moved to her right and managed to dislodge her elbow from his light touch.

When they reached the middle of the field, D spread out the blanket and offered it to Bella to lie upon.

"No thanks. I'd really rather lie on the grass," said Bella as she sat down a little way from the blanket. At first it was not cold at all, but after a few moments she could feel the damp creeping up.

"Then at least wear the sweater," he said, handing it to her.

She decided it was better not to argue, anyway it was big and would provide a lot of protection should he try something. "Thanks." She pulled it over her head, and found herself engulfed in the warm smell of wool scented lightly with sandalwood and something indefinable, but pleasing. He reached out and loosened her hair from the neck. His unexpected touch sent a shock running through her and she moved back instinctively.

"Sorry, did I pull your hair?"

It was that voice again and she trembled despite the warmth of the sweater. "It's okay."

"Lie down now and see what you think," he advised, doing just that on his thick fleece blanket.

Bella lay back. The long grass nestled her head, tickling her cheek and forming itself around her. And the sky was above her - not the flat expanse she was used to, but a huge bowl of darkness filled with twinkling lights. She drew her breath in awe and just gave herself up to it.

D stirred beside her. "Usually we have buildings, trees, or mountains hedging us in. It was only when I found this spot that I really understood what Adam Duritz was talking about in the song. I suppose if one lived on the prairies or the desert one would take this for granted."

The whole experience was becoming slightly eerie. What was it about his voice in the darkness and the way everything he said seemed like echoes of her thoughts? Had he somehow read her so well that he knew exactly how to disarm her before he made his move, or was this really only an innocent outing to look at the stars? She was so engulfed in confusion that she was beginning to trust herself as little as she trusted him. She knew it wouldn't be safe to lose her concentration for one moment.

"Are you familiar with the constellations?"

Bella gazed up at the thick velvety dome that filled her vision. The stars were forming patterns before her eyes, connecting in ways that were not found on the charts. "I see the Big Dipper," she said, pointing towards it, "but I can't recognise anything else."

"If you follow down from the curve of its handle you'll come to the second brightest star in the sky - that's Arcturus. It's the bottom star of Bootes, the herdsman. It includes that star there, there, there, there, and there to make a sort of kite shape."

Bella tried her best to follow his gesturing arm. "And that's supposed to look like a herdsman to me?" she laughed.

"Who knows what they were thinking. If you follow the same curve from Arcturus, you come to Spica, way down there. That sort of bluish one. It's the leading star of Virgo. And over to the west, if you follow down from the bowl of the Dipper you come to Regulus, the largest star in Leo."

"And somehow all those stars there form a lion?"

"Well it goes something like this," he said, leaning closer and attempting to point out the stars in the constellation. "Can you see that bright, creamy one over there that has a steady light? It's not part of Leo. That's Jupiter."

He was quite a bit closer now and Bella began to feel very nervous. She commented jokingly, but her voice sounded artificial to her, as if she was trying too hard to diffuse what was really happening between them along with the astronomy lesson. Here in the dark, with the stars putting on a display above them, the look of his face tinged softly with moonlight and the gentle, comforting fragrance of his sweater, she was having trouble keeping straight all the negative things she knew about him with how his closeness was making her feel. It was a very dangerous situation, and she knew it. He shifted his body and was suddenly almost touching her, half on, half off his blanket. His head leaned close in to hers. She could feel his warm breath on her cheek. She was gripped with a mixture of anticipation and dread.

"Hey D, I thought I'd find you out here!"

D moved back over on his blanket quickly, as if recoiling from an electrical charge. Bella sat bolt upright. She could see a figure loping towards them across the meadow. When he came closer he seemed to hesitate and then stop altogether.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you were . . . I thought you were alone. I'll get lost right away."

"Colin," called D, his voice just a little rougher than before. "It's okay. Come and join us." As the newcomer sat down, D continued. "Bella, this is my cousin, Colin. Colin, this is Bella. She works at the school."

Colin leaned forward to take her hand, a big grin shining through the darkness. "We finally get to meet," he said in a friendly voice. "I see I should take to visiting the school more often."

Bella heard a stifled groan from D, and she answered his cousin with equal friendliness. Right now she was experiencing immense relief. The only dismay she felt was at the fact that she had very nearly made a big mistake and succumbed to the moment. That would have been disastrous, given that in her mind she held D Jag in just as much contempt as always. How could her body have responded so traitorously?

"Let's go in." D Jag sounded short and impersonal. Gone was that warmly appealing quality his voice had held earlier. Colin pulled Bella to her feet while D folded his blanket. On the way back he barely took part in the lively conversation that Colin had sparked.

When they arrived at the waiting jaguar, Colin turned to Bella. "Would you like to come into the lodge for a drink and a snack or something?" In the dim light that streamed from the rear of the buildings she could see him more clearly. He was almost as tall as his cousin, but of a more athletic build. His dark hair was thick and wavy, and he was regarding her with a most appealing expression. His features were not as good as the Jag man's, she had to admit, but he was warmly attractive. She was very tempted to take him up on his offer, but there was also the matter of D himself, who was standing stonily to the side.

"No thanks. I really should be getting home."

"Well, I could take you then and save D the trip." He looked over at his cousin for approval of his plan but was met only with a cold glare.

"I'm taking Bella home."

"Well, it was nice to meet you then," he said with a smile, taking Bella's hand in his warm clasp once again. "I'll be sure to come by the school really soon." He waved and sprinted to the back door of the lodge.

Bella felt all her awkwardness return as D held the door of the jag open for her. They drove in silence the whole way to the cabin, the only sound the haunting richness of the cello drifting from the car's speakers. Bella scrambled out the car door before D could come around to open it for her and hurried up onto the small front porch. She turned and spoke quickly to his approaching figure. "Thanks for showing me the stars." She opened the door and slipped into the house before he had time to do more than stand and stare after her. As she leaned back against the wooden panels to catch her breath, she remembered she was still wearing his sweater.

Chapter Fourteen

Posted on Friday, 30 May 2003, at 4:39 p.m.

"So, how did your date go?" June smirked at Bella from across the kitchen as she waited for her toast to pop up.

If Bella had had something in her hands, she would have thrown it at her friend. She had not slept well. All night she had been haunted with visions of the Jag man in the moonlight and the strange confusion she was feeling. Her dreams had been worse. Not because they were bad, but because involved a certain green eyed man and herself in situations she did not even want to think about. "It wasn't a date," she muttered as she opened the fridge and poured herself a large glass of milk.

"Okay," said June, undeterred. "How was your non-date?"

"Fine. We looked at the stars. I met Colin."

"So nothing special happened?" asked June, somewhat disappointed. "Spending more time with Fitz must have changed your opinion of him a little." She looked hopeful.

"I liked his cousin," said Bella tersely.

"Colin is a great guy," said June. And then she added with a note of concern, "He's a bit of a player, though, so be careful."

Bella burst out laughing.

"What?" June stood with her hands on her hips, staring at Bella.

"You are so funny! Just because I said I liked him doesn't mean there is anything going on between us. I only just met the guy - and I'll probably never see him again." Bella rummaged around in the cupboard, looking for something to eat for breakfast.

"If I know anything about Colin, you'll be seeing him soon."

"I'd like to see him again," said Bella. "And don't worry about me. I know he's a flirt - Carla already told me. I won't take anything he says seriously. I guess it must be a family trait, or something."

June did a double take. "Fitz didn't flirt with you, did he?"

"No." She remembered she had decided to say nothing to June about Collins' allegations. Anyway, stalking wasn't flirting - not by a long shot.

"Did you want him to? Are you disappointed?" asked June, poking Bella in the ribs as she walked by her to the table. "Is that what you are so grumpy about this morning?" An impish grin spread over her face.

"Don't be silly," said Bella, finally choosing some granola.

When Bella arrived at school, Chance greeted her with an invitation to watch the Jays game at his house that evening. "They're playing in New York. Andy Pettitte is pitching for the Yankees."

"I think I'll pass. I've got a few paintings to finish up and take in to The Lakehouse tomorrow."

Chance smiled. "How's that going?"

"Wonderful! I never imagined I would sell so many paintings. I can barely keep up with the demand."

"I hope that doesn't mean we'll be losing you next fall."

"Not on your life," said Bella. "Someone has to be here to keep you in line!"

"So how was your date?" Chance's eyes twinkled.

Bella refused to rise to the bait. She simply stuck out her tongue and went off to do her classroom rounds. In the grade 6/7 classroom she noticed that there was a substitute. She sighed. Not because she regretted not seeing the Jag man - far from that. She had his sweater bundled in her backpack and she had meant to return it as soon as possible, but she didn't think it would be polite just to leave it on his desk with a note.

"This is some wild class," remarked the young teacher as she walked past Bella and out the door.

Bella just stood and stared after her. Wild? That didn't sound like the kids she knew. "Have you guys been giving that poor substitute a hard time?" she asked the class in general.

"She's totally clueless." "I think her one brain cell died this morning." "She was treating us like we were little kids." "When's Mr. Fitz coming back?"

Bella raised her hand to silence all the commotion. "Hold on! I have no idea where Mr. Fitzwilliam is or how long he's going to be away. If I find out for you, do you promise to give that poor teacher a break for the rest of the day?"

They grudgingly agreed. On her way to the annex, Bella popped her head into the office to ask Carla where Mr. Jag was and when he would be back.

"Miss him already?" asked Chance as he came out of his office. Bella gave him a dirty look and then turned back to Carla expectantly.

"He's gone to a conference. He'll be back on Monday." Carla couldn't hide the interest that she felt.

"Well I hope the substitute survives," Bella said. "Maybe next time he feels like some extra training he should do it on a professional development day, when there are no kids at school."

Chance laughed. "He's giving the conference, Bella. He's explaining how we set up this program to the Vancouver school board. Our school is to become a model for a new fine arts program they will be instituting. He left at about 3 in the morning so he could make it on time."

Bella blushed full to her roots and quickly fled to finish her rounds and go out on the playground. Besides being embarrassed by her childish outburst she was totally dumbfounded. If he was going to Vancouver, why hadn't he gone after school the day before? Why invite her to look at the stars if it meant he would have to leave so early the next morning? He must have barely slept. Shouldn't he at least have spent the evening preparing for such an important event? Why hadn't he even told her about it? She had to admit that they hadn't talked about anything except the stars, and neither of their attitudes on the ride home had been conducive to conversation - but still! He continually aggravated and bewildered her.

"Bella!"

She was brought out of her deep reverie by the children's cries from the playground and she ran over to solve a dispute over the monkey bars. After, she informed all the grade 6s and 7s about the fact that their beloved teacher would not be in until Monday, and to remember that it was not open season on substitutes. She was ensuring that the kids made fair teams at the baseball diamond when all the members of the writing club ran off to the far corner of the playground together. Even Jordan, which surprised Bella because his presence could always be counted on when there was a baseball game in progress.

"So what is so important that we had to come way out here to talk about it?" asked Rita.

"I didn't want Bella to hear," said Alyson, looking across the field to make sure that Bella was nowhere near.

"Oi don't like secrecy, sez Oi."

"Adam, that is the dumbest accent," said Sarah.

"Stifle it, you two," said Heather. "What's up?" She turned to Alyson along with everyone else.

"Do Bella and Mr. Fitz remind you of anyone?"

"What do you mean?" asked Jordan.

"Well, I've sorta noticed how Mr. Fitz always looks at her - like sometimes he's standing at the window watching her on the playground. And she doesn't seem to like him very much, which is weird because he's the best teacher ever."

Jordan gave Alyson a long appraising look.

"You mean, you think . . ." Cindy started jumping up and down with excitement.

"Do you think he said something that hurt her feelings when she first came to the school and now she hates him?" asked Alicia, catching on.

"I still don't know what you guys are talking about," said Rita.

"Mr. Fitz and Bella are just like Darcy and Elizabeth!" said Alyson smugly.

"You think Mr. Fitz is like Darcy?" asked Jordan accusingly.

"Well you think Bella is like Elizabeth," she answered, blushing. "You said so yourself."

"When?" Jordan's tone was belligerent but he had the decency to look a little conscious.

"You made Lizzy a shortstop in your story, and you know that's the position Bella played. You told me."

"Why couldn't Mr Fitz be the colonel?" asked Lise, colouring a little.

"Because he doesn't like Cassandra," said Sofie, giggling. It was her turn to be stared at.

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Alicia.

"Well, in Lise's story, Colonel Fitzwilliam likes Caroline."

"The point is," said Alyson, afraid that her main idea would get lost with all the various speculations of who could be who, "we need to do something to get them together and prevent Hunsford."

"Alyson, this is real life, not some fanfic story," said Jordan.

"I think it's a great idea," said Cindy.

"Arrr," said Adam as he chewed on a stem of grass.

"For once I agree with Adam," said Rita.

"How do you know what kind of 'arrr' that was? It can mean almost anything." Adam gave her a smug grin and she pushed him over onto the grass.

After a five-minute bout of pushing and rolling about on the grass that nobody was exempt from, Alyson outlined some of her ideas and they all listened, even Jordan.

That afternoon Bella pulled the sweater out of her pack as soon as she got home. With it came that distinctly warm and masculine scent that had smelled so good when she was wearing it the night before. Without thinking, she lifted it to her face and inhaled deeply. As she stood there with her cheek nestled against the soft, brown wool, she became aware of just what she was doing and she almost dropped it. It was D Jag's sweater and that must be his smell. He would have been the last one to wear it. She felt sudden revulsion and crammed it far in the back of one of her shelves. It could stay there until the lake froze over! She wasn't going to touch it again. It was insidious.

Saturday she was out by the lake painting once again. She didn't see Daisy running through the trails or sense anybody staring at her from a distance. Without such distractions she should have been able to concentrate on the scene before her - the trees tilting towards the pewter water, the ripples tossed up by a brisk breeze, the solemn sky darkening dangerously in the east - but she couldn't. She threw down her brush in exasperation, folded up her easel and dumped the water in a hole.

The wind was beginning to whip the water furiously now. Heavy drops of rain shattered the water's surface even more. Bella stared at it - memorising the colour, the texture, the very feel of the storm. Then she hefted her pack and caught up her canvas. The painting was large and unwieldy, making the going awkward as she clambered through the underbrush to the road. The rain was pelting down in earnest. Bella was glad that the wind had subsided somewhat so that her painting would not be wrenched from her hands, bucking like some sail upon the high seas. The sky was torn with bright, white light and thunder roiled at almost the same instant. She turned her canvas inward and stepped from the shelter of the trees.

She arrived at the cabin, her hair plastered to her head, water streaming down her face, her feet leaving great puddles on the porch. She passed her painting in to June and then stripped down in the vestibule, wrapping herself in the towel that June quickly threw to her. In minutes she was soaking in a hot tub, listening to the rain pound down upon the cabin roof and watching the light show that was taking place outside her window.

Even after her bath she was still restless, as if charged by those lightening bolts, with an overflow of energy building and needing a release. She set up the canvas in the living room. The essence of the morning's scene was still there; wind and rain had not managed to obliterate it. She got out her paints and brushes and filled her water jar. Then she stood and stared at the picture, seemingly for hours, bringing back that scene of battered water, the feel of being submerged in the rain, the icy cold that had permeated her body. She attacked her canvas with dark tones, calling forth not only the storm, but the shadows of the woods and the eyes of the watcher who wasn't there. When she was done she threw herself back on the couch, exhausted.

June had driven through the rain for take-out, and slipped back into the house soundlessly so as not to disturb Bella.

"I smell pizza! June you really are an angel - what would I do without you?"

"Run yourself ragged and starve," she said with a grin. "Can I take a look at the painting?"

"Yeah. It's done."

June walked around the canvas and joined Bella on the couch. She stared at it in near shock. After a few minutes she said, "That is so striking. Almost frightening. It's filled with foreboding and yet there is something wonderful in the intensity. Like it will not be overpowered no matter what the elements throw at it." She lapsed into silence.

"I never knew you could be so profound," teased Bella as she went to get them each some pizza. "I'll have to get you to write my reviews"

Sunday Bella slept late. She awoke to bright sunshine streaming through her window. She opened it and poked her head out. Moisture was evaporating quickly from a clean and shiny world. The greens were greener, the soil richer looking, and the loamy smell of wet dirt intoxicating. Bella went for a walk and then sat with June and Chance and watched the Jays game on the little TV in the cabin. Wells was pitching for the Yankees. Four doubles were hit off him in a row during the fourth before he finally got the hook. Toronto completed a four game sweep of New York - first ever at Yankee stadium in Blue Jays' history. Chance was beside himself with glee.

The next day he wasn't quite as happy. His hero, Rocket Roger Clemens, was going against the Bo-Sox for his 300th career win. It was a grudge match of sorts because Clemens had been a part of the Boston organisation for years earlier in his career. And the Yankees, his current team, had just dumped four straight. But things did not go well - after walking a run in, and letting another in on a wild pitch, Clemens left the game in disgust, tossing whatever he could lay his hands on in the dugout, and heading straight for the locker room. Chance had been almost ready to do the same. He switched off his TV, refusing to watch the rest of the game and sulking until he succumbed to June's sweet smiles and tender embraces.

"I could never stay in a bad mood with you around," he sighed into her hair. June laughed softly and Bella felt it was high time she left the room.

She walked out onto Chance's balcony and gazed at the lake. She wasn't really even seeing it, though. She was thinking back to earlier in the day when she had almost bumped into D Jag in the hall after school.

"How was your trip?" She could hardly not say anything, and that seemed safe enough.

"Excellent. I think they are going to follow our model." He appeared very pleased.

"That's great." She wondered how she would be able to walk away from him as he was standing right in her path.

"And how've you been?" He still had the smile of pleasure in his eyes as he regarded her.

"I . . . um . . . your class gave the substitute a hard time."

"Did they give you a hard time?"

"No, I can handle them." There was challenge in her eyes as she met his.

"That's what I thought."

He seemed inclined to linger, and before Bella could think of an excuse to go, said, "You didn't give me a chance to say goodnight." He looked at her intently.

Bella was taken completely off guard and didn't know what to say. She wished herself anyplace but in that deserted hall talking to him. She prayed for a reprieve, and as if in answer, Carla came hurrying along with some paperwork that he needed to explain to her, making it possible for Bella to escape.

The whole encounter had flustered her and she was still wondering why. She shook her head. Here she was squandering a perfectly beautiful view on trying to understand the way that man's mind worked. Could she really believe all that Phil Collins had told her? And yet she could not forget what D had said that first day when Chance had hired her, or how he had tried to convince him to give June up. Were those the actions of a nice guy? And he could be so sullen, so moody, and so downright unnerving when he stood in the shadows and stared, or suddenly appeared out of nowhere. She was clearly wasting her time. There was a lake of silver water still holding the last few flames of the setting sun, and she should be enjoying it while it lasted.

Chapter 15

Posted on Friday, 6 June 2003, at 12:37 a.m.

"I think that's totally stupid idea!"

"What's a stupid idea, Adam?" asked Bella, coming up from behind.

All the kids jumped at the sound of her voice.

"Er . . ." managed Adam as he turned to face her.

"He doesn't like my new story," said Cindy quickly. "He thinks Dr. Bailey should be a vet specialising in sheep and not an entomologist."

Adam stared at her open mouthed while the others all tittered.

"Who is Dr. Bailey?"

"He's the guy I've invented for Georgie in my latest story."

"I've got to go to rehearsals," said Adam. "Just remember I'm not going to be a part of it."

As Adam ran off Bella looked after him, wondering what he was talking about. Was he collaborating on a story with Cindy? His outburst didn't really make any sense. Alyson came up beside her and took her arm.

"He always gets an attack of nerves close to a performance," she confided. "And doing Les Mis is such a big deal."

"Yeah, we are the first school in Canada to be allowed to do the musical," piped in Cindy, "which is amazing for an elementary school."

"But this is such a good school, don't you think, Bella?" said Alyson.

Bella barely had time to agree when Alicia joined it. "You know the school was all Mr. Fitz' idea. If it wasn't for him it wouldn't even exist."

"Or if it did it wouldn't be anywhere near as good," said Rita.

"And he's the best teacher," said Cindy.

Bella sat down at one of the picnic tables with the girls. "You know, you don't need to sell him to me. I know he's a good teacher," she said.

"He's more than just a good teacher," said Alyson, taking a few strands of Bella's hair and starting to braid them. "I know sometimes he's really reserved and quiet, but he's got a great sense of humour when you get to know him, and he's so smart."

"And if he ever said anything to hurt someone's feelings, it was probably by accident," said Cindy as she began plaiting a braid on the other side of Bella's head.

"And he is so generous, look how he bought all that baseball equipment they are playing with," said Alicia, motioning to the diamond.

Rita sat on top of the table and started braiding the back of Bella's hair. "He paid for the music studio and the hot lunch program."

"And he's pretty good looking for, like, a man," said Sofie, blushing.

Bella tried to turn her head to look at the girls, but it was difficult with most of their hands in her hair. That they were up to something was obvious. This wasn't the first time in the last few days that they had been spouting D Jag's praises. She wondered what had brought it on. She thought she had kept her animosity towards him hidden, but now she was not so sure. They must have picked up on something. Cindy's remark was very telling. She sighed. Everything the girls were saying was true; she had even noticed his sly sense of humour. But there were things about him which she knew that they didn't. Things that couldn't help but colour her opinion of him. It didn't bear thinking about; there was too much contradictory information. "Are you girls almost done? I've got to get over to the baseball diamond - it looks like there's a problem."

"Almost done," said Rita. "Just start walking while we follow you and finish off these last few braids. Does anyone have another elastic?"

"I do," said Alicia, digging into her shorts pocket.

"This is rather awkward," said Bella, as she walked with her hairdressers in tow. "Tell me - how bad does it look?"

"Bella!" cried Alyson. "How could you doubt us? It looks great - you'd pay a bundle for this at a salon."

Bella finally managed to get detached from the girls and deal with the problem the baseball players were having. Until recently there had been no complaints since the time the new equipment was bought. After his fit of anger when he had thrown the ball at the school, Jordan had done his best to see that everyone played fairly, but now that rehearsals were keeping him busy at lunchtime things were beginning to deteriorate. When the bell rang Bella rushed in, relieved to get away from all the petty squabbles.

The day continued to be busy as Maddy's class was hurrying to complete work for the art show that was to run concurrently with the performance of the musical. There was only a week left and tempers were running high all over the school. Combined with the hot weather that was settling in on this last week of May, all the extra stress of the nearing deadlines was cause for more than one headache. Chance had jokingly announced that he was having Tylenol dispensers installed in the staff room. At least it was Thursday - the week was almost done.

During writing club the girls continually tried to involve their teacher in the discussions. He reacted very good-naturedly and even shrugged and winked at Bella, showing her that he found their behaviour a mite unusual as well. She had smiled in response and then caught Rita and Alyson elbowing each other and smirking. She decided the best thing to do was ignore them and instead began to lay out her plans for a presentation of their stories to go along with the art show. At four thirty and with all her nerves frazzled, Bella dragged herself into Carla's office. Sitting on Carla's desk was a very relaxed and debonair looking Colin Fitzwilliam.

"I told you we would meet again," he said, smiling broadly.

It was at that moment that Bella remembered her hair. She had no idea what the girls had done to it, but that it should actually look anything but wild was highly unlikely. Her hand went up to it instinctively.

"Your hair looks charming," he laughed.

"I must look like Medusa"

"We haven't turned to stone yet," said Carla dryly, "but it is quite imaginative. Who's your stylist?" She grinned.

"The girls very kindly did this to me at lunchtime. I'd forgotten all about it," said Bella, frantically trying to unravel one of the many braids.

"I thought you might like to go for coffee or something, so I came by," said Colin with an engaging smile.

Bella looked over at Carla.

"Don't look at me," said Carla. "Colin is talking to you. Anyway, I'll be lucky if I'm outta here in an hour, so if you would say yes to the man and get him off my desk and out of my office, I would really appreciate it."

"Okay," she said, smiling back at Colin, "but I've got to tell June and get these braids out first."

"I'll tell June," said Carla. "Just go already."

"And I'll be more than happy to help you take the braids out," offered Colin.

"They look that bad, eh?" said Bella with a smirk.

"That wasn't what I meant at all," said Colin hopping off the desk and taking her arm to lead her out of the office. "Let's get out of here before the she-dragon breathes fire on us."

Carla's eraser just narrowly missed Colin's head as he went out the door. They sat on the front steps of the school, and Colin, true to his word, began undoing the braids in the back while Bella worked on the front. She felt a little self conscious to have a man she barely knew sitting so close to her with his hands in her hair, but his lively chatter soon dispelled the feeling. A few minutes later the door opened and Bella turned her head to see D Jag come out onto the school porch and stop still in his tracks. She thought she saw a flicker of anger cross his face to be replaced by a cool, closed in look.

"Have you taken up a new profession, Colin?"

Colin turned his laughing face to his cousin. "I'm just helping Bella fix her hair."

"I thought it looked just fine with the braids in it." He stared steadily at Bella for a few moments, his eyes meeting hers in a way she found increasingly unnerving.

"So did I, but we are going into town and she was afraid of turning people into stone."

"Have a good time," said D curtly, and he walked off towards his car.

"What's got into him?" asked Colin.

"He's always like that," said Bella as she watched the Jag slowly creep out of the parking lot.

"Is he?" Colin's voice was thoughtful. "Here I was afraid he was going to insist on joining us and I wouldn't have you all to myself. Do you think he's upset because you're going out with me?"

"Why should he be?" asked Bella. "Does he care who you go out with?"

"No, but I thought he might care who you went out with."

Bella coloured. "Of course not."

"But . . . when I first met you, you were out on a date with him."

"It wasn't a date."

"I see. So you're not his girlfriend?"

Bella sputtered. "Far from it!"

"Okay, sorry. That wasn't the impression he . . . I guess I put two and two together wrong again. I was never any good at math. Anyway, I'm glad to hear it."

There was an awkward pause, as Bella couldn't think of anything to say after this comment. It wasn't long before the last of the braids was out and Bella shook her hair free and ran her fingers through it.

"It looks even better now," said Colin, pulling her up from the stairs. "Let's go."

He led her to a bright red Mustang convertible and opened the door for her. The top was down so she had to twist her hair into a rope and hold it or it would have ended up in a worse tangle than it was before. They went to The Lakehouse and had tea on the terrace rather than coffee. Bella found herself talking with Colin as comfortably as if she had known him all her life. They ended up having pizza and walking on the beach until the sun began to fall into the trees, and then Colin drove Bella back to her cabin and set a date to pick her up from school again the following week.

"So did that rate as a date?" asked June as she looked pointedly at her watch upon Bella's entrance.

"No, but when he picks me up from school next Monday it will," said Bella smugly.

"I hope you know what you're doing," said June.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they're cousins."

"Just because they're cousins doesn't mean they're at all alike," said Bella firmly.

"That's not what I meant. You don't want to do something that will hurt their friendship."

"How . . . look, I never went out with the Jag man. Contrary to popular belief there is nothing between us. We don't even like each other."

"I wish you wouldn't call Fitz that," said June, shaking her head.

"I can promise you I'll never call him Fitz," said Bella.

The weekend passed by quickly. Bella spent most of Saturday at the school with Maddy, putting together frames and cutting mats for the art show. Sunday she was down by the creek painting again, far from the distractions of tourists and silent watchers and dogs. She didn't give too much thought to the cousins of silent watchers either. She just immersed herself in her surroundings, the young alders leaning out over the water, the scattered boulders warming in the sun, the wedge of bright sky flaring upward. She allowed herself to explore the negative space; all the shapes created between the branches, the rocks, and the sky.

Monday, Colin was at the school at three sharp, sitting on Carla's desk again. When Bella arrived at the office it appeared that they were speaking quite seriously together, but they turned and smiled lightly as she entered and shared some jokes before she and Colin left.

On the way out they passed by a group of Bella's girls, who all called and waved goodbye to her. When Bella was out of earshot, Alyson groaned.

"Now we're in for it!"

"What do you mean?" asked Rita.

"Don't you know who that was with Bella?" asked Alicia. Rita looked blank.

"The Colonel!" Cindy said it in an ominous stage whisper.

Continued in the next section