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Chapter 16
For a while there on Friday it didn't seem like anything was going to come together. Cues were missed, the curtain stuck, and the sound system was shorting out. Bella had problems of her own, too. She came in early to set up the art show and found that all the display screens had not yet been assembled in the library. She needed someone who was handy with a screwdriver to help her. The big panels that should have been in place in front of the bookshelves were awkward and unwieldy for her to handle alone. To make matters worse, all her grade 7 assistants seemed to have vanished. She was struggling to hold the panel in place and use the screwdriver at the same time when she felt its weight suddenly disappear.
"It looks like you could use some help," came a familiar deep voice.
"No! You really think so?" Bella wiped her forehead and then attacked the screw. "Do you have any idea where all my trusty assistants are?"
"I think they're in the gym setting up chairs. Why wasn't this all prepared for you?"
"You tell me," said Bella, still irritated. It was not only the fact that the room wasn't ready for her that rankled, it was also that
"Phil Collins was supposed to assemble this last night. Were you going to get some help or were you just going to put your back out trying to do this on your own?"
"I could have done it," she muttered almost inaudibly.
"If we do it together, it'll be done in half the time." He smiled and her bad temper dissipated.
"Sorry for being rude."
"You should have seen how cranky I was half an hour ago. Let me try that." He held his hand out for the screwdriver and she held the panel steady while he deftly sunk the screw. Working together, they had all the display screens put together and in place within an hour.
"Thanks," she said, suddenly feeling awkward under his gaze. "You really rescued me, but isn't there something you were supposed to be doing?"
"I was looking for Chance about a problem . . . and someone said to try here. You haven't seen him, I suppose?"
"No."
"Then I really should be going." He hesitated and was about to speak again, and then appeared to change his mind. Bella waited, a questioning look on her face. "No - um . . . I'll see you later."
He looked almost comically flustered, and Bella found herself grinning as he left the room. If she had given it some thought she couldn't have said why, but she immediately began hanging the pictures and soon her mind was full of nothing else. At 4:30, after a hectic day, she and June were back at the cabin for a quick meal, shower, and change before returning to the school at 6:00 for their evening duties. Bella had to supervise the art show until curtain time when she would be free to watch the production.
Before they left for the school Bella surveyed herself in the mirror one last time, as she put little garnet studs in her ears. At her throat was a garnet butterfly suspended from a fine gold chain - along with the earrings a gift from her parents on her nineteenth birthday. Her hair had been loosed from the two fat braids she had worn all day and now cascaded over her shoulders in rippling waves. A new dress from the boutique by the lake draped her curves and ended swirling just below her knees; aubergine velvet with spaghetti straps, unlike anything she had worn in a long time. She felt a little self-conscious and wondered who on earth she was trying to impress, but June had been adamant that she buy and wear the dress tonight.
"You can't be in jeans all the time," she had said as she dragged Bella into the store a few days before. "You'll blow the socks off everyone in that dress." And Bella had to admit that June was right. The dress fit her perfectly.
"Just whose socks am I trying to blow off?"
"Katrina Berg's," said June smugly. "Among others."
Colin was waiting for Bella on the school porch. When he saw her he smiled slowly.
"If I knew you cleaned up so well, I never would have agreed to a platonic friendship," he said as he gave her a hug.
"You didn't have a choice," said Bella.
They walked into the school together, hand in hand, and were stopped by a bottleneck of people meeting and greeting in the hall. Bella manoeuvred past them on her way down the hall to the library. She noticed D Jag ahead, coming her way, accompanied by an older woman in a black designer gown, a silk shawl draped over one shoulder.
As he came towards her he stopped abruptly, forgetting his companion completely. His eyes were on her strong and hard. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "You look so very . . . nice."
"You look pretty nice yourself." Her voice held just a hint of cheekiness. He reddened perceptibly under his tan. Bella reflected that it was a good thing she didn't like him because in his crisp white shirt and black tailored pants he looked stunning. It wouldn't do to start falling for someone who worked at the school, especially him, with the attitude she knew he had towards dating a staff member. Anyway he was way out of her league.
Colin came up beside her, smiling affably, and D's expression changed immediately. He looked austere and unapproachable, but his eyes never left Bella.
The older woman did not appear to appreciate that loss of attention towards herself. She craned her neck up at Colin and asked in a loud voice. "Who is this girl? I don't think we have met."
"Aunt Katrina," said Colin smoothly, "this is Bella Gardiner. She works at the school."
The lady gave a little sniff from flared nostrils. "Indeed."
"She works in the art department," said D, finally finding his voice. "Bella, this is Katrina Berg."
Bella put out her hand and said, "I'm also the lunch supervisor. It's good to meet you." Bella had to hold back a laugh at the look on Mrs. Berg's face. She was visibly taken aback and almost withdrew her hand, but she grudgingly made the briefest possible contact and then turned back to D.
"I can't lose my spot in the front row."
"It is reserved for you, Aunt Katrina." He appeared embarrassed at his aunt's rudeness.
"Excuse me, but I should already be in the library," said Bella, more to D than to his aunt who was already stalking off ahead.
D stared after Bella and Colin and only returned his attention to Katrina Berg when she stopped and called to him peremptorily.
"My aunt is a bit of a tartar," said Colin, "to put it in polite terms. Sorry about that."
"The look on her face when she found out she was shaking hands with the lunch supervisor was priceless," said Bella, giggling.
Colin stayed with Bella as she did her shift at the art show and then he led her to the seats he had already set aside for them in the auditorium. The performance was impressive. Bella held her breath through the suicide scene. When Javert climbed the ladder symbolising the bridge, wires were unobtrusively attached to him, and he threw himself off and was slowly lowered amid wavering blue lights: the waters of the river Seine. It was powerfully poignant and she was amazed at the emotion displayed on stage by this young crew of amateur actors. For her it rivalled any top ranked professional production.
After the last curtain call, the audience filed out full of that elated rush of feeling that a satisfying performance brings. Bella found words were inadequate as she smiled and nodded in agreement to all the accolades that were being spouted. Back in the hall they ran into D again who this time was standing and talking distractedly to Cassandra. She was encased in a floor length persimmon tube with a slit up one side that exposed an entire meticulously tanned leg, and she was leaning into him and clutching his arm for dear life. Colin's eye swept over the group and then he twirled Bella into his arms and kissed her exuberantly right on the lips. She looked up at him, startled and laughing and was about to ask him what brought that on, when D stepped forward and grabbed his cousin's arm.
"Just what the heck do you think you are doing?" he asked in a low, hard voice, and then he pulled Colin through the front door, leaving Bella standing in the hall with a stunned looking Cassandra.
Bella was beginning to fume inwardly about the Jag Man's officious behaviour when she looked across the hall and saw Carla standing in the office doorway with an expression of utter desolation on her face. As their eyes met and Bella was just about to rush across the chasm that now stretched between them, Carla turned and walked back into the office, closing the door behind her.
"So you and Colin are an item?" asked Cassandra, bringing Bella's focus back from the blank surface of the door. "I hope you don't really expect anything to come from that. He's such a ladies' man."
"Colin and I understand each other very well," said Bella. Her tone of voice was not intended to encourage conversation.
"Really? Well I was just trying to help. Don't say I didn't warn you." Cassandra smirked at her and tossed back her straight, blunt cut hair with a flick of her head. She looked around for someone more important to talk to and sauntered over to Katrina Berg. "Oh Mrs. Berg! Wasn't that wonderful? You must be so proud."
Bella wondered what on earth that old bat had to be proud about. She had nothing constructive whatsoever to do with the production of the musical. All she had done was preside over the event. Bella could see what side of the family D Jag took after. Luckily Colin was different, although she wasn't too happy with him at the moment either. He walked through the door just then with a sheepish look on his face.
"Take me home." Bella didn't need to say more. He nodded and took her arm, steering her out the door and down the steps. They passed by D who was standing leaning against the side of the school, staring out into the distance. Colin opened her door and then got in and fired up his engine. He turned off the music and then looked over at her.
"Is it okay if I don't take you straight home?"
"If it means you're going to tell me what that was all about - yeah."
They drove out to the lake and parked. Colin let out a huge sigh.
"I'm sorry, that was really stupid."
"What were you trying to do?"
"Kill two birds with one stone, only I think I was aiming at one of the wrong birds."
"I don't understand what you're saying." Bella looked at him intently
"You were trying to make her jealous?" Bella had her hands on her hips and looked at him accusingly. "With me? I'm her friend - that was so cruel."
"I know, I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind, after all we both know there's nothing like that between us. It's not as if I'd be raising false hopes or anything."
"I meant cruel to her, Colin. Will you tell me what happened between you two? Maybe I can help. You are only making things worse with your bright ideas."
Colin sat and stared at the lake for a long time. "I never had any trouble getting girlfriends. If I blew it with one, there was always another one ready to take her place. I guess that kind of thing's not too good for the ego. Makes it outrageously overblown. I could always get any girl I wanted. They never meant anything to me - I had a good time and never even thought about their feelings. When I came here Carla was working at the lodge. We had fun together. She told me she wasn't going to get taken in by a flirt like me, so I swore I'd make her love me. I went after her relentlessly. I gave up all the other girls and constantly told her how much I loved her. Eventually she got taken in by my sincerity and admitted that she loved me. What a conquest. You wouldn't believe how different it was to be with a girl who actually really cared for me and not my money or the good time I could show her. That was a great summer - I've never had a better one." He glanced over at Bella and tried to smile, but his eyes were too full of despair. The result was a bittersweet twist of his features that wrenched her heart. "But I just didn't get it. I thought I had the best of both worlds - that she loved me and would forgive me anything. She caught me with another girl and I promised I would never do it again . . . but I did. I told you I'm an idiot."
"So she dumped you." Bella said it softly, without rancour.
"She did. She quit her job at the resort. She wouldn't answer my calls or even speak to me. In the end I got angry. Who did she think she was anyway? I took girls out in town to places where I thought she'd see me with them to show her what she was missing. The next summer when I came back I swore I'd have nothing to do with her and it would be the time of my life. I didn't lack for girlfriends, but it was the most dismal, empty summer of my existence. When I finally moved here for good to take over the business, I told myself I wouldn't let the fact that she lived here get to me - that it was crazy to let this one girl get under my skin. But it didn't matter how much I tried, I could never find that same thing I had with her. It's been ten years, and I wasted a lot of those years blaming her, when of course it was all my fault. I've tried to get back with Carla. She'll talk and joke with me like we're old friends, but if I ever try to get close, or even attempt to discuss something more serious, she'll just look at me and say, 'You'll never change so don't waste my time.' But, you know, I can't give up. I have to believe that deep down she still loves me. I just have to."
Bella reached out and took his hand. "If you had seen her face tonight after you kissed me, you'd know that she still feels something - but all you've done is hurt her all over again. You really deserve the genius of the year award for that move. You've just proved her point."
"But I love her," he whispered. "How can I get her to understand that?"
"No games. You're going to have to find a way to tell her that she'll believe."
They both stared at the lengthening reflection of the moon on the still, black water for some time. It seemed hopeless. Colin started up the car again and began to drive slowly back to the cabin.
"So, what about the other bird?" asked Bella suddenly out of the dark.
"What?"
"You said you were trying to kill two birds."
"Like I said, wrong bird. The one I was aiming at was already plucked."
"Are you going to explain that comment?"
"I think I'd better shut up while I'm ahead," said Colin laughing ruefully.
Bella was quiet again, her thoughts going back to the kiss and D Jag's reaction. "Why does your cousin think he's in control of everything?"
"What are you . . . oh . . . he was just being my father."
"I don't think it's his business who you kiss. Or was he more worried that you were kissing someone in his precious school?" Her anger at his reaction was beginning to resurface.
"No, I don't think that was it at all."
As he led her up to her door, he jokingly asked her, "So, how was it anyway? Like kissing your brother?"
"I don't have a brother. I'd have to say it was like kissing my best friend. Pleasant, but no sparks. How was it for you?"
"The same. Does that bother you?"
"It relieves me."
Colin laughed and pulled her close. "Me too. Thanks for listening."
Both of the Saturday performances of Les Mis were flawless. Sunday morning Bella was back at the school taking down the art display. Colin had arranged to pick her up there and take her to the resort for a swim. Phil Collins came into the library when she was just about done.
"I'm here to take the panels down," he said, swinging his tool belt as he prepared to strap it round his waist.
"Thanks for putting them up for me," Bella said with heavy sarcasm.
"I'm sure you found someone to help you."
"Mr. Fitzwilliam did."
"You two were alone in here working together? Haven't I warned you about him?"
"I don't know that I believe you," said Bella. "Everybody else has such a high opinion of him."
"That's because they don't know what I know." He came closer and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Latest news I heard, that girl he was stalking and who knows what else up there at that last school of his - she was only in grade 8."
Shivers ran up Bella's spine. She did not know if it was due to the janitor's proximity or his words.
"That was a sexy little dress you were wearing the other night."
As Bella turned and ran from the room, she heard him call after her, "Hey, aren't you going to stay and help me with these?"
She got to the parking lot just as Colin's Mustang pulled in.
"Can't wait to get out of this joint, eh?" He was laughing as he leaned over and opened the door for her. When she got in, he noticed she was breathing heavily. "Something wrong?"
"It's just that mindless jerk, Phil Collins."
"Did he try and make a move on you? Do you want me to go beat some sense into him?"
"Forget it. He didn't really do anything - just something he said made me sick."
"The pervert."
"Don't worry about it. Let's go for that swim." Bella leaned back and smiled, trying to erase the feeling of revulsion that had overcome her in library.
They were driving through town now, and soon were on the road that wound through the hills to the west of the lake on the other side of the lakeshore properties. "So did you talk to Carla?"
Bella could see that Colin was trying not to look too eager, so she sighed right away to show him that she hadn't been able to make any headway. "I tried to tell her that you were just excited about the play and that we are just friends and the kiss meant nothing." She took a breath. "She said that she's seen you with loads of girls before and she can tell that it's different with me."
"Of course it's different with you! I'm not trying anything!" He punched the dash in frustration.
"It'll take a bit of time," said Bella. "You just set yourself back the other night."
"It's been damn near ten years," he muttered.
Bella cast him a look of sympathy as he turned the music up. By the time they arrived at the lodge they were both singing along to Tom Petty, their tempers considerably improved.
"Free Falling does it for me every time," said Colin with a grin. "Do you need somewhere to change?"
"No, I 'm wearing my bathing suit under my clothes, but I did forget my towel in the library."
"I've got plenty. I'll go get you one and I'll meet you down by the water."
Bella swam and relaxed for most of the afternoon. Colin joined her for part of the time, but he also had work to take care of. Daisy joined Bella at one point but luckily her master didn't make an appearance. Bella wasn't ready for a tête-à-tête alone with him on the beach. Phil Collins' words were still ringing in her ears, doing battle with the impression she had got from D during the guitar lesson. Then there was his comment to Colin after the kiss. Why had he dragged him off and what had he said to him? Colin would not tell her. All she knew was it was uncalled for and overbearing. And yet he had been so nice to her when he'd helped her in the library. She remembered how he'd looked the night of the musical, and she told herself not to think about it.
Colin came by around 6:00 and looked down at her where she sat, absently stroking Daisy's back. "So that's where she's got too! Do you want to come in for a drink and clean up a bit before we go to dinner?"
"Sure." Bella got up, gathered her things, and shook out her towel. Daisy followed close on her heels as they went into the lodge.
"Is this the first time you've been in here?" Colin asked as they entered the lobby. "The dining room is over there and just beyond that are the restrooms."
Bella wasn't listening to a word he was saying. Instead she was staring, transfixed, at a spot above the fireplace. Hanging there for all the world as if it was painted for that very location was her picture of the rock. She turned slowly and found, over a broad green couch, her painting of the canoe through the branches. Her first thought was how well they looked in their surroundings, her second, what on earth were they doing here at the resort?
"The paintings . . ." Bella let it hang as a question in the air. She could say no more.
"Do you like them? I think they are great, but I know nothing about art. D's always supporting these local artists - giving them sales, helping them get their feet on the ground. He buys up their stuff just to boost their confidence. But in this case . . ."
"In this case I bought these paintings because I wanted them . . . because they speak to me. Because I am inspired when I see them." His eyes were on Bella as he spoke and his voice, which started out hard and tight, ended with a soft gentle tone. Unfortunately it was lost on her; she had stopped listening after the first ten words. All she could hear was the blood pounding in her ears. She was looking as him as if through a tunnel, seeing only his lips move. She had no idea where he had even come from
"When did you get in?" asked Colin. "Bella and I were just going out to dinner. I did find Daisy for you, though. You'll never guess where she . . ." He trailed off when he realised that neither of them had heard a word he was saying. They were staring at each other with such intensity that the air around them was palpable. All at once Bella turned her head towards Colin, severing the eye contact.
"I - I've got a headache. I'm sorry . . . I need to go home." She barely managed to choke out the words.
"Of course. I'll take you right now." Colin took her hand and nodded at D, who was left standing in the middle of the room, staring after them.
When he finally pulled into Bella's driveway, he turned to her, breaking the silence between them.
"Those are your paintings, aren't they?"
"Yes."
"I didn't know. I guess that much is obvious. Here I am - supposedly your good friend - and I had no idea. I knew you painted, but I never thought - heck - I never realised you were that good . . . after all you work in the school supervising those kids at lunch." He looked at her and put his head on one side, giving her a goofy grin. "I'm just digging myself deeper aren't I? I'm sorry I've been so self involved."
"At least you said you liked them." She looked up, her eyes full of unshed tears, and tried to return his smile.
He took her head in both his hands and leaned over and kissed her forehead. "What I said was a load of rot. He bought them because he likes them - because they are good."
"Thanks. And thanks for taking me to your beach. I'll see you later." Bella got out of the car before he could come around and open the door for her. They walked to her porch together.
"Take something for that headache, okay?" He looked down at her with concern. "I'll call you."
"Okay." She turned the handle and went in.
Two hours later Bella was woken by the telephone. It took her a moment to even figure out that she was sleeping on the couch, let alone find the phone. The only thing she could think was the last thing he had said to her was he would call. But why so soon? He must have just got back to the resort.
"Hello." She knew she sounded groggy, but she didn't care.
"Hiya Bell!"
Bella took a moment to readjust her mindset. It wasn't who she had been expecting at all. "Layla."
"Guess what? Me'n George are movin' to Vancouver! I'm finally gettin' outta this hole!"
Bella held the receiver away from her head. It was difficult to handle the cheery voice. "That's great Layla."
"I'll call you when we get a new number - or you could call George's cell."
"I'll wait for your number. I don't want to call George."
"C'mon! Stop ragging on George, will you? We're still together and you said he would leave me. Told ya he loves me. Hey - guess what? 'Member that teacher you told me about with the weird name? The one who dissed you so bad? Fitzthingummy or something?"
"Mr. Fitzwilliam." It was a strain to say it. He was the one who had caused her headache - he . . . Layla's strident voice cut through her thoughts.
"That's the one! Well, you'll never believe it, but George says he knows him. Went to a school he taught at before he came here. Says he is a real a . . . jerk. Oh! He wants to talk to you."
"No, Layla. Please. I don't want to talk to . . ."
"Hey there, Bella baby!"
"George."
"So Mr. Fitz teaches at your school? What a coincidence. Is he as big of a prick as ever?"
"He's okay."
"Can't be. He's a self-righteous bas . . ."
Bella held the phone away from her head. She didn't want to talk to George at all but she suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to ask him a question - after all, he was there - at about the right time too, as far as she could tell. "George, was there some big scandal at that school back then?"
"What do you know about it?" He sounded a little apprehensive.
Bella's heart sank. "I heard there was some kind of thing between a teacher and a student. Stalking and, well - I don't know any of the details."
George was silent for a moment and then he spoke with assurance. "You've come to the right place. I know all about it . . . so you were told Mr. Fitz was involved?"
"Yes."
George laughed. It was not a nice sound. "Well don't that beat all! And I thought the whole thing was swept under the rug."
"Is it true?"
"He was involved all right, Bella baby. Right up to his eyeballs. That stinking son of a . . ."
"And the girl was in grade 8?" Bella could barely speak. Now, when she had almost convinced herself that it wasn't true, everything Phil Collins had said was being verified.
"Yeah. She was in grade 8, and a real sweet kid too. It was a damn shame."
"Say goodbye to Layla for me George."
Bella blindly hung up the phone. Angry tears were streaming down her face. She heard a car door outside, and laughing voices. She rushed to her room and threw herself on the bed. She couldn't face June and Chance now. It was a good thing tomorrow was a professional day and there was no school. She didn't even think she'd be able to deal with the kids, and the last person she wanted to see was him. She couldn't keep this to herself any longer, but she needed time to think, to figure out whom to go to. He owned this town. She lay on the bed and let her mind run free. All the things that had happened this weekend washed over her: the paintings at the resort, the phone call, the way he had helped her with the panels, the look on his face when he had first seen her Friday night, Collins' greasy grin as he had told her about the girl. Everything. Why were appearances always so deceptive? Why did nothing ever turn out the way it should?
Chapter 17
Bella got up early. There was really no sense rolling around in bed any longer. She hadn't been able to sleep. Her sheets and blanket were all sweaty and tied in knots. Her hair was a tangled mess. She couldn't even get a brush through it so she put it in one big loose braid down her back and pulled on a t-shirt and jeans. She threw a sketchpad and watercolour pencils into her pack and went through to the kitchen to make a lunch. After writing a quick note for June and putting it on the fridge, she let herself out the back door and walked around to June's car in the driveway. She knew June would not be using it.
The road out to the provincial park was empty. She drove to the day use area and parked right up by the lake. The water was still and clear, reflecting the hazy morning sky. She looked at her watch. Just past seven. Was it really that early? After locking the car, she heaved her pack over her shoulders and headed out onto a trail. She didn't really care where she went. As far away as possible was all she wanted. Somewhere where nobody was. She could escape from the world, but even though she knew she couldn't escape her thoughts, she was going to give it her best shot.
The idea of her paintings in his possession, on his walls, made her feel violated. She had thought that people liked them. That she was a success. But it was just him and some twisted obsession. He had looked so intense when he'd said he bought them because he wanted them. Like he always had to have the things that he wanted. Like a grade 8 girl. It made her sick to the stomach how someone who was capable of building up such a strong rapport with children, as she daily witnessed in his dealings with his students, could misuse their trust like that. She felt tears come again and she held them back, trampling along the path uncaring where it might lead her, swatting occasionally at the scrubby underbrush of wild currant and Saskatoon that reached across the path to catch at her legs.
She arrived at a long arm of the lake, skirted it and headed into the forest again. The sun was filmed by high pearly cloud, the day was heavy and muggy, the shade of the trees lent some sweet freshness to the air. Bella let the mindless placing of one foot before the other replace the relentless revolution of thoughts within her brain. She arrived at water again, shook her numbed head, and looked at her watch. 11:30. She had been walking for just over four hours. She was unsure how that had happened or how she had even reached where she was, but the spot was temptingly comfortable. There was a soft stretch of mossy grass under a large pine, and a flat rock that could serve as a table. Bella unpacked her food and then took off her shoes and rolled up her pants. She walked in almost knee deep and filled her empty water bottle from the colder depths of the lake. The water felt good on her tired feet.
Her sandwich and apple disappeared quickly. She sipped the water, looking about her at stretch of lake she had discovered, the trees that rode up to the water's edge, and the rocks that spilled out from them and down into the cool wet. She would stay here and draw for a few hours before turning back, but first, the lack of sleep was finally overtaking her. She curled up on the grass and put her pack under her head. Her eyes closed and she was soon deeply and dreamlessly asleep.
It was a mosquito that finally woke her, its high-pitched whine circling her ear. She swatted at it ineffectually a few times and then gave up and opened her eyes. There was a crick in her neck and her hip had discovered rocks under the short grass. She sat and stretched, hoping she hadn't overslept. A glance at her watch showed her that it was one o'clock. Another at the sky showed the same misty, pale grey with no clue about the location of the sun. She thought she had slept longer, but if it was only one there were still a couple of hours left for drawing before she would have to turn around and attempt the four hour hike back to June's car.
She settled herself on the flat rock with her sketchbook on her knee. She drew the rocks about her, the burled tree roots, and the edges of water, then she took her finger and water from her bottle and pulled and blended the colours, muting the sharp lines and creating new subtly different, almost murky colours on the creamy vellum. The sound of a prow cutting through water and the firm splash of a paddle captured her awareness. She looked up and recognised the canoe immediately. It was the one she had painted before. She recognised the rower too, and with a sinking feeling she realised that she should have known it all along. It doesn't matter how hard you try to escape trouble. If trouble wants you, it knows how to find you. D Jag - here. She hoped against hope that he wouldn't see her.
Nobody was granting her wishes today. In a few moments the canoe changed course and Bella knew that she had not gone unnoticed. She was all alone out here in the wilderness and he was the last person she wanted to see. She felt fear grip her. Would he use this occasion to try to satiate his weird obsession? There was nowhere Bella could go to escape him short of running pell-mell into the bush. She uttered a silent prayer and began putting her pencils back in their box. Then she turned towards the water to face the inevitable.
The canoe ground into the shore and D jumped out, wrapping the painter about a large rock. "Hi," he called out as he walked towards her. There was a smile on his face that was so open and warm that she thought for a minute that all her imaginings had been wildly improbable. But she couldn't forget that he was very good at what he did. He must be for no one else to even suspect him. "How did you get all the way out here?"
She stooped to grab her pack and began putting her things in it. "I walked."
"Alone?"
Bella did not want to admit it, but she had no choice. She was very obviously alone.
"Isn't it a little late? It should take more than four hours to walk back to the park. Is that where you started from?"
Bella looked at him, her confusion showing on her face. "Yes but I've got plenty of time. It's only . . ." she looked at her watch. "It's only 1:20. It doesn't get dark until about 10:00."
D looked at his own watch. "It's more like 6:00, and it'll be dark in the woods way before 10:00."
"No - that can't be," said Bella looking at her watch again. A sudden chill crept up her spine. It had been one o'clock when she had woken up, surely it had taken longer than twenty minutes to draw that picture. She looked at her second hand. It wasn't moving. She sat down heavily on the rock and put her head in her hands. "My watch has stopped." It all made sense now. Her battery must have been dying all day and the time had never been correct. Not even when she thought it was seven in the morning. The walk had taken longer than four hours. Her sleep had been more than just a short nap. She could never walk back to the car before it got dark. She was trapped.
"You must have been lost in your drawing, not to notice how long you were out."
"I fell asleep. What am I going to do?" She said it out loud, but she wasn't really saying it to him. Mentally she was wondering if she would be warm enough if she slept in the woods until morning. Temperatures dipped very low at night, even in the summer. And she had to be at work by lunchtime. Then there was June. If Bella didn't come home, she would have search parties out.
"I've got a canoe," said D, coming even closer. "Do you have a car at the park? I can give you a ride there."
"It's okay, I can walk."
"No you can't. It'll get dark too quickly. You're all alone. You could get lost - I couldn't take that chance."
"What's it to you?" she asked, a challenge in her eyes.
"Everything." He said it simply and softly, and then he reached out and pulled her to him. "You are everything that's important in my life. Don't you realise that?" His words were strained, almost harsh. His eyes caught her startled gaze and he bent his head towards hers. "Bella," he whispered.
She was too stunned to move. His lips met hers softly, tenderly, and then continued with more urgency as he tightened his hold around her. It was a long, deep, and well-developed kiss. Nothing like Colin's. She went limp in his arms, her mind lost somewhere on a sea of stars, or cresting waves, or taken on a swirling tempestuous wind. He held her head gently against his chest and rested his chin upon it. "You don't know how long I have wanted to do that - how difficult it has been to see you every day and hold myself back."
With his words, rational thought returned. Bella struggled in his arms and pushed him away from her. "Don't touch me!"
He stood where she had pushed him, a bewildered look upon his face. His eyes held hers and she stared back bravely, hoping that she would not lose her resolve. "Bella?"
"Am I some new obsessive desire in your sick and twisted mind? You've been staring at me in that brooding way, creeping up, stalking, waiting for a chance like this. Well I may be out here all alone but I'm not going to let you have any satisfaction. I'd die in the woods rather!" She was shaking uncontrollably.
"Did I frighten you? I'm sorry - I thought if I kissed you, you might understand how I feel, discover what you feel . . ."
"I understand how I feel. Sick! Nauseous, disgusted." He took a step closer, holding out his hand.
"Don't touch me again!"
"I won't. I promise you."
"Do you think I believe anything you tell me? You practically admitted that you've been stalking me."
"I haven't been stalking you. I said I wanted to kiss you for a long time. That's true. But it's not some obsession - I care about you. I've been holding back because, well, I don't think I should be dating someone who works in the school. My aunt is very powerful in this town. I only got the go ahead for this program by the skin of my teeth. She wants a traditional school and she'll use anything in her power to get what she wants. Any hint of scandal and we're toast. After you came along, it didn't take me long to realise that I was in danger of breaking my own cardinal rule. But I don't care any more. You are more important to me than the school."
Bella ignored everything else that he said and jumped on one point. "You tried to break Chance and June up."
"How do you know about that? No - you don't need to answer - it doesn't matter. Yeah, I suggested he quit seeing her. I thought she was just using him and I didn't want him to get hurt. And I was worried it would affect the program - maybe that's why I didn't believe in her - because I didn't want to. I admit I was wrong. They're great together." He looked at her, took a breath, and then changed the subject back. "Where did you get this idea that I'm stalking you?"
"I know all about what happened in your other school."
"What?" He was completely at a loss.
"Phil Collins told me all about it. I almost started not believing him and then last night . . . last night I was talking to my sister's boyfriend, George Wicks, and he told me it was all true. I didn't want to believe it anymore, but what else could I do? And now you - you . . ."
"George Wicks? You know George Wicks?" D's face turned white with anger.
"Yes! And now this whole town will hear about you because I'm not going to keep quiet and you'll never teach again!"
"I think you'd better tell me exactly what you think I've done so I know what I'm to defend myself against," he said in a harsh voice that he tried to keep level.
Bella knew that she had made him angry, and that she was alone with him out in the wilderness, but she didn't care any more. He was going to hear it from her - all of it. "Collins told me about the scandal in that other school you taught at. How a teacher stalked a grade 8 girl. He said something about licentious behaviour too. And he told me that although it was all hushed up, you were the only teacher to leave the school after the incident. Money can really buy immunity, can't it?"
"So far you have incriminated me on nothing but rumour and innuendo."
"But George backed everything up - and he was there at the time!"
"Yes he was, wasn't he. I would be interested to know what he had to say." There was a hard glint in D's eyes. He looked very dangerous.
"He said it was all true - that you were involved in it right up to your eyeballs. He said the girl in grade 8 was a sweet kid, that what happened was a real shame. He's one of the biggest creeps I know, but at least he had some consideration for a young girl like that. You just took advantage of her! And then you have the nerve to come and teach here, like it was all nothing, and any one of these kids could be your next victim! And you worried about me and my record! So if I am a college drop out! There were reasons for that that you could never understand! So if I never held a full time job before and came from a two-bit town! It was much more dangerous for the school and the precious 'program' to have you here than me!" Bella drew the back of her hand across her face, swiping at the tears that were now flowing freely.
"You overheard me that day. I . . ."
Bella cut him off quickly. "You called me a college drop out! Do you know what it's like to have your parents die in a crash? To have the whole town say your dad drove into the logging truck on purpose because he was a failure? He wasn't even driving, my mom was. And it was the damn logging truck with the faulty breaks that caused it - that killed my parents. And you expect me to finish my semester when I'm trying to deal with grief like that?"
"I had no idea," he said in a stunned voice. "Bella . . ."
"You had no idea! How can you accuse somebody of something you know nothing about? And then - and then you go and buy my paintings as part of your strange obsessive perversion, so you can have some kind of weird hold over me. And you are engaged . . . to the same person who is selling all my paintings to you. I thought I was selling them to real customers. I thought people who liked them were buying them. I thought I might really be good and have a chance to actually make it. But it was just you. You. Trying to buy me like I was some sleazy hooker. You can't buy me, you can't have me, and you are the last person in the world I would ever want to own my paintings." She stood there facing him, heaving for breath, not bothering to wipe away the tears.
He finally turned away from her and looked out over the grey water. "So that's what you think of me. To you I'm some kind of depraved lunatic and all the time I've been stupidly falling in love with you. I guess I can forget that now. Let's go."
Bella sat on the boulder, her head in her arms. "Just leave me alone, please."
"You are going to get into this canoe and I am going to take you to your car. I know you think I'm inhuman, but at least believe me when I say that I'm not all that inhuman that I would leave you stranded out here." He looked at her, his expression dark and unyielding.
"I'm going to walk," Bella said, putting on her pack and getting up.
"If you do, I'm coming with you. Whether we want to be together or not right now we are stuck with each other, so no matter how much you may hate me, you are getting into the canoe."
Bella reluctantly turned and walked toward the canoe. She slipped and stumbled on a loose stone, and D immediately put his hand out to steady her. She shook it off. "I can manage on my own; I don't need any of your help." She clambered unsteadily into the front of the canoe and sat, facing the water. It was good that one sat facing forward in a canoe because she could not have borne facing him. He pushed the canoe out and boarded in one fluid motion.
At first there was no sound but the dip of the paddle and the rush of the water creaming against the bows as he paddled swiftly, following along the shoreline. Bella was staring straight ahead at one of the most beautiful scenes in existence, but she saw none of it. All that she was aware of was the horrible scenario she had just been a part of. The enormity of all she had said to him weighted down on her. And now she was stuck with him for a couple of hours in a boat when all she felt like doing was drowning herself in the unforgiving water.
"You may not want to hear a single thing I have to say, but I think you owe it to me - and I have you captive so you have no choice. You can cover your ears, but I'll keep talking." He paused. Bella sat resolute, her hands on her lap. The only indication that she heard him was a slight stiffening of her back. "You just said I shouldn't accuse you of something when I know nothing about it - I think I could safely say the same to you."
'What does he think that he can say that will excuse anything he has done?' she wondered. She sat and waited for his voice to resume. It was a few minutes before he spoke and by the time his low tones reached her again she was sincerely dreading what he had to say.
"It is difficult to know where to start - which accusation to deal with first. The two things, my being upset with Chance for hiring you without checking your credentials and the scandal at my old high school, are related. Inextricably. That might surprise you, but you will understand what I mean when I explain. First, though, I want to apologise with all my heart for hurting you with that comment about being a college drop out. I would never have said that if I had known you were within hearing, even so, I could never have known just what that comment would mean to you." He paused and when he resumed his voice had softened. "I am so sorry about your parents. I wish there were something I could say that would erase the pain I caused you, but there isn't."
He was quiet again for another minute. Bella wiped her fresh tears away. It was true. How could he have known? But how he was going to link his disgusting behaviour to her lack of credentials she had no idea. She wondered just how inventive his imagination could get. When he began to speak again, she was surprised to hear him launching into his family history, some of which Carla had already given her.
"I think you've heard that I have a sister named Tess. My mother died when she was a baby. I was ten at the time. It was hard on me to lose my mother, but I always remembered that I had received ten years of her love and caring that Tess would never get. It made me very devoted to her. My dad died when I was in university, so it was only Tess and I then. I mean, there were Uncle Harry and Aunt Doris, Colin and Hank, and Aunt Katrina and Aimee, but I always felt fully responsible for Tess and didn't rely on any of them to help out. We lived in Point Grey, but when I graduated I took whatever job was available. The school was in the east-end, a horrendous district really, but I thoughtlessly registered Tess there for grade 8 so that we could be together. That was a big mistake. The kids were rough and unfriendly and she's sweet and shy. She had no friends, so it's small wonder that when someone was nice to her, she thought she had found a friend. George Wicks was in grade 12. I think he had already failed twice in his school career." His voice became rough with suppressed anger. "He was good looking and cocky - not the kind of guy I would ever have expected her to be interested in. He had no class at all. They should never even have come into contact, except for one stupid twist of fate. George was as good at buttering up the female teachers as he was the students. He wanted easy credits to pass grade 12, so he registered in peer tutoring. The teacher who ran the class was infatuated with him and didn't even go to the trouble of checking his background. If she had bothered to check, she would have discovered that he had priors. He'd been up in juvie twice for lewd behaviour and attempted rape. He should never have been allowed to peer tutor at all, especially not a grade 8 class, or have been giving one-on-one sessions with a young girl."
D stopped talking again. His voice had been on the breaking point. Bella had felt all the blood run from her face while he was speaking. There was a tight knot in the pit of her stomach. What he was saying sounded so much more real, so much more like George, so much more like what she should have expected from a man like D. Why had she jumped to such incredible conclusions? Why had she listened to Collins? Just because she had been hurt by what she had overheard D say to Chance? And now it was becoming exceedingly clear that D had good reason to want to check her credentials. Before she had time to think any further with her muddled brain, D resumed talking.
"I walked into one of the meeting rooms after school one day and found him kissing her. She was struggling to get away. Her shirt was torn open. I was just in time. I don't want to think what would have happened if I had gone to the staff room with the other teachers instead. Tess ran into my arms crying, and I have to admit that I did something that a teacher should never do. I hit him. And then I put my sweater on Tess and took her home. The next day I discovered that I was up for a reprimand. That changed when I told them what really happened, and I pushed for the expulsion of Wicks and the dismissal of the teacher. George was expelled, but they refused to do anything about the teacher who hadn't checked his credentials. I was furious. My sister couldn't go back to that school - she had been betrayed, frightened and mortified and was left totally vulnerable. I quit and brought her up here till the end of the semester, and then I registered her in boarding school on Vancouver Island. She had friends there and I should have sent her in the first place, but I was selfish and kept her with me. So, how does that match up with what George Wicks told you?" There was an edge of bitterness to his voice.
Bella tried to say something but couldn't. Her throat burned. If she opened her mouth she would begin crying. How could she answer that question after all that she had said to him? She looked up at the darkening sky and the lengthening shadows. There was still a good distance to go before they reached the car park. She didn't know how long she could endure that icy cold she felt emanating from the man behind her. She could not look, but she knew his face must be filled with loathing.
"There are still two more things that I need to address. The first is unimportant, really, but it needs to be said if only to set the record straight. I am not engaged to my cousin, no matter what Collins may have told you or what my aunt wishes. Neither of us desire nor intend to marry each other. I know it won't matter to you, but I would like you to know that I didn't kiss you when I was already engaged to someone else. I don't play around." His voice was frigid. He didn't sound like someone who would ever kiss anyone, let alone play around. Certainly not someone who would ever kiss her again.
There was an elongated silence and then he said, "You don't have anything to say? That's funny - you didn't have a problem before." Bella cringed, and in the growing dark he must have seen her reaction. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. It just feels strange, like I'm talking to myself in the still air. But at least I know you're listening. I think this next one is the biggest one - at any rate it is the one thing I have actually done that really hurt you. You think I bought all your paintings for some perverse reason and that your sales are meaningless. Didn't you hear what I said last night? I wanted them. They speak to me. They inspire me. I could have said more, but Colin was there and you weren't listening anyway. Your paintings are extraordinary - they are amazing - and they tell me so much more about you than you have ever done. If I was an obsessive, selfish weirdo, I may have bought all of them, but I didn't. I want other people to see them and buy them. I want you to get the recognition you deserve. And you are. I restrained myself and so far have only bought three. All the other sales are legitimate, that is if you consider mine not to be. I think I have just as much right as anyone else to buy your paintings. I will make no promises to never buy another one, and I'm keeping the ones I have. I may be the last person you ever wanted to own them, but in this case the last person bought them first. You will just have to accept that."
The stillness settled in when he stopped talking again. He had nothing more to say, and the next half-hour he spent applying himself with the paddle, his strong, even strokes moving the canoe through the water quickly. The moon had come up and stars were beginning to show themselves where the cloud had dispersed. Bella couldn't help but think back to that night out in the meadow when he had been involved in showing her the stars and she had been expecting to be jumped at any second. What a complete and abysmal fool she was. The silence stretched tighter than a bowstring. If either of them said anything it would have been painful, like the cut of a knife. The shore neared with each stroke as the canoe jumped forward. Bella readied herself to jump out and as soon as the prow crunched into the gravel she leaped like a startled dear, splashing into the shallows.
"Wait. I'll walk you to the car." It was like thunder and a whisper at the same time. His voice seemed to reverberate across the open expanse of the shoreline and empty parking lot, hit the trees that surrounded it and echo back. It was eerily ethereal. Unreal.
"I don't need any help. The car is right there in plain view." Her voice creaked from lack of use and pent-up emotion.
"I'll stay here and watch until you leave."
Bella rushed up the shore in case he changed his mind. Luckily the keys were in her pocket so she didn't have to think. After mindlessly trying to open the door she unlocked it and jumped in, throwing her pack on the seat beside her. She shoved her keys into the ignition and cranked it so hard that it stuck on the starter's grating whine. The sudden noise scared her so much that she turned it off, and then realising what happened she turned the key again, a little more gently this time. She switched on the lights. In their glow she could see the canoe and D sitting in it, impassively waiting for her to go.
Bella backed up, turned, and headed out of the parking lot. Luckily the park gate was still unlocked. She pulled out onto the road and then, knowing that she could no longer be seen or heard from the lake, stopped right in the middle of it, put the car into park, leaned her head forward onto the steering wheel and set free the tears that she had been holding back ever since he had stopped talking. Even as her shoulders heaved and sobs broke forth she wondered at her body's capacity to produce such a never-ending supply of saline.
Chapter 18
When Bella pulled the little car into the driveway, the cabin door flew open and light spilled out onto the small porch. June came running down the steps.
"Bella! Where were you? I was so worried."
Bella was out of the car and in June's arms before she could say anything else. She held her tightly, needing the feel of June's warm embrace. The safety and comfort of home.
June stroked her hair and tried to look into her face, which was pressed tightly to June's shoulder.
"What's happened? Chance and I got back an hour ago. When you weren't home we phoned Colin and Carla and neither of them had heard from you. I was getting really worried. We were just about to go out and look for the car."
Bella became aware of the shadowy bulk of Chance's Jeep Cherokee not far from where she had stopped June's car. She had just driven blindly in, her only thought that she had reached her destination. She hung back as June started to lead her into the house.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't want to see anybody."
"It's only Chance here, no one else," said June, misunderstanding her reluctance. She kept her arm tightly around Bella and guided her up the stairs. Chance was waiting on the porch.
"Is she okay?" whispered Chance.
"Physically, yes. Something's happened, but I don't know what." June's voice was filled with concern.
Bella knew she had to say something. She spoke before going into the bright lights of the house that would give so much more away. "I went for a walk in the woods. I fell asleep. My watch stopped."
"You walked back to the car in the dark!" June's voice was filled with shock. "Oh Bella. You could have easily become lost."
"I . . . I didn't walk. I got a ride in a canoe."
"Someone gave you a ride back to June's car?" asked Chance. "That's a relief. You were lucky they found you. Who was out on the lake so late?"
"D." There was something in the way she said his name that caused June and Chance to look at each other.
"Well, I'm glad you're back safely," said Chance, giving her a hug. "I'd better go now. I'll call Colin and Carla and let them know there's nothing to worry about."
June let go of Bella for a moment so she could say goodbye to Chance properly. Bella just slumped down into the porch chair, oblivious to their soft whispers and fleeting kisses. Everything she had experienced that day was swirling about in her brain hauntingly. She couldn't begin to grapple with it all. Uppermost was the feeling of total loss mingled with the deep dread of knowing that it all had been real and could never go away. As Chance was backing out of the driveway, June put her arm about her again and made to lead her into the house.
"Oh June, I've done the most terrible thing," said Bella, breaking down into wracking tearless sobs.
"Nothing can be that bad, honey," whispered June holding her and rubbing her back. "Can you tell me about it? Does it have something to do with Fitz?"
Bella nodded, and allowed June to bring her into the house and settle her on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her.
"I'll make you some tea. Are you hungry?"
"I can't eat," Bella managed to say.
They sat and drank their tea, Bella able to only tell June a fragment of what had passed between her and D. It was all too fresh and too painful to be repeated yet. June did not push for more details, but she said what she could to comfort Bella and attempted to dispel her fears.
"He must know you had based your opinion on lies," said June. "I know he won't hold what you said against you."
"But what I said was so horrible. I can't tell you how bad it was. There is no way he will ever forgive me, and I can't blame him. But how am I going to face anybody tomorrow?"
"What you did isn't written all over your face. You haven't turned into some kind of monster, Bella. No one can possibly know anything except you and him - but you will have to talk to Fitz some time."
"I can't - just seeing him will make me die of shame."
"Well maybe not tomorrow, but soon," said June. "You can't leave it too long. If you talk to him it will all work out, I know it." She kissed her hair and then pulled her up to stand. "Now you really need to get to sleep."
Bella obediently went through the motions of getting ready for bed. It was all mechanical - she had no interest in cleaning her teeth, washing her face, or brushing her hair. June assisted her, undoing her tangled braid and carefully brushing out all the knots before re-braiding it. She handed Bella the face cream, stood over her like a parent until she rubbed it on, and then led her to her bedroom door.
"Goodnight," she said. "Promise me you won't go to sleep in your clothes or I'll come in and put your nightie on for you."
"I promise," said Bella in a dull voice. "Thanks." They hugged and then Bella found herself in her room, alone once more, not really sure how she had come to be there. She lay on the bed and, vaguely remembering June's strictures, began removing her clothes.
The moonlight falling through her window caught her attention and she crossed over to look at it through the glass, wondering if the silvery light could do anything to wash away her incessant pain. She dropped her clothes where she stood, and wandered to her shelves to find a nightgown. As she moved the clothing about, a faint smell of sandalwood reached her nostrils, sending pangs throughout her system. She was suddenly in D's arms again with his lips on hers, lost in his kiss. She had responded - she couldn't have helped but respond.
She had been fighting her attraction to him since the first moment she had seen him, bursting from that trail into the car park. That day she had quickly assessed him as someone who would never, ever, be interested in an ordinary girl like herself. Finding him teaching in the school had been unexpected. Then he had been aloof, distant, and brutally critical of her. It had only served to reinforce her resolve to withstand his allure and gave root to her negative opinion that had formed the building blocks of so much that she wanted to forget. But somehow, surprisingly, contrary to everything she had ever expected, he had become interested. Against his will. He had said that he cared, that she was everything to him, more important even than the school. He had said he was falling in love with her. And his kiss had been something she had never before experienced - could never have imagined. The way she had responded had frightened her to the core, thinking what she did of him. She had pushed him away in anger as much at herself as at him and she had unleashed some sort of demon from her soul - had sealed her own doom. Killed whatever growing feelings of love she had instilled in him. And throughout the experience, from the very first meeting to this disastrous ending, she had been unable to prevent the unthinkable. She had fallen in love with him. Now, when everything was hopeless, she fully realised that. And she knew she deserved all the heartache she had coming to her.
Bella pulled everything from her shelves until she had the sweater in her hands. She held the soft brown wool up to her face and breathed in his scent. It was the closest she would ever come to him again. She turned and walked back to her bed, nightgown forgotten, and crawled in under her tumbled blankets. She nestled her head upon the sweater and closed her eyes, trying to fill her mind with the warm fragrance, eradicate the memories that kept invading.
To you I'm some kind of depraved lunatic and all the time I've been stupidly falling in love with you. I guess I can forget that now.
We can both forget that now. She pulled the sweater closer, buried her face in it.
Am I some new obsessive desire in your sick and twisted mind . . . And then you have the nerve to come and teach here, like it was all nothing, and any one of these kids could be your next victim . . . then you go and buy my paintings as part of your strange obsessive perversion . . . . But it was just you. You. Trying to buy me like I was some sleazy hooker.
And there was more - so much more. All her words were coming back to slap her in the face - to be imbedded so deep that she could never escape them. How could she find peace when the only thing that replaced her spiteful words was the image of D sitting and watching her in the car's headlights, and then turning his canoe and paddling back across the lake, utterly alone, with her terrible treatment of him - her appalling accusations ringing in his ears?
It was the story of his sister and George that hurt the most - especially after what she had said: at least he had some consideration for a young girl like that. You just took advantage of her! As those words of hers reverberated in her head she thought of the truth as she now knew it, of his sister betrayed and almost seduced by the creep. Her young innocent soul violated. And Bella remembered all that George had told her. Every word he had said to her was true. He must be laughing himself silly right now at how he wilfully misled her, just to get back at D. That must have been it. George certainly didn't care what she thought of him. How could she have possibly believed him?
Sleep was not going to come if she continued this mental flailing. Self-recriminations were futile. They only served to deepen the guilt. She had to get outside of her head to gain some modicum of peace. She thought music might help and turned on her radio. It was an old favourite of hers that was playing, a song that she loved, but the lyrics were not designed to help her. In her present mood they translated themselves as they had never done before.
. . .You were there like a blowtorch burning
It seems no one can help me now I'm in too deep there's no way out
Runaway train never going back
The pain and hopelessness deepened. She held onto the sweater as if it was her only link to reality as she became lost in a sea of emotion. The lyrics penetrated again, haunting her.
. . . Can you help me remember how to smile
Was there something that could get her through this? She had to face tomorrow, and all the subsequent tomorrows to come.
. . . Here I am just drownin' in the rain
She couldn't just cry in the rain - torture herself about the dreadful things she had said to him - end up on a train going nowhere. No matter if happiness was lost to her and life would never be the same - never be what she had dreamed it could be - she had to find a path through this, and the only way to start was to tell D how sorry she was - that is, if she could actually bring herself to meet his eyes again.
She woke at ten the next morning with a dull throbbing headache and a feeling of trepidation that bordered on nausea. The day was grey, listless, and uninviting. She had to force herself to get out of bed.
She took the sweater from her pillow and shook out its creases. She folded it with care and replaced it in the back of her shelves, bringing it up to her face one last time. This morning it hurt too much to even breathe in the faint smell of him that still clung to it. She looked about her room trying to comprehend the mess of scattered clothing, and then set about picking it up, folding it, and putting it back into her shelves. The discarded clothes from yesterday she took to the washing machine on her way to the bathroom.
Her bath did much to ease the aching in her bones and settle the headache to slight throb, but did nothing to soothe the nervous tension she felt within. She forced herself to eat a bowl of cereal and a banana, her first food since the packed lunch out by the lake the day before.
When she arrived at the school, Carla took one look at her and dragged her into the little room with the cubby-holes and timesheets.
"You look terrible. What happened? Chance called me to say you were okay but he didn't tell me anything."
Bella had been dreading all the questions. She knew she wasn't going to be able to fool anyone that all was right in her world. "Yesterday was the culmination of the biggest mistake of my life."
"When she called looking for you, June told me you weren't with Colin. That was my first thought."
"Carla - you know if I was with him it would have been perfectly innocuous. What I did do was go for a walk - I fell asleep, my watch stopped, I was stranded miles from nowhere, and D brought me back in his canoe. End of story."
Carla gave her a long, penetrating gaze. "Okay, I won't ask. But I have to assume that the biggest mistake of your life was not getting stranded, but something that happened between you and Fitz."
"Yes, and I don't want to talk about it." Bella took a breath and gave Carla a watery smile. "I'm just not ready - I haven't even told June the whole story - but there is something I do need to tell you. Forming an opinion of people and then not giving them a chance to explain themselves can be very harmful . . . hurtful. It can screw things up forever. Give Colin a chance. Listen to him."
"How did we suddenly start talking about me and Colin?"
"Look - you once gave me some advice about a certain person that I didn't listen to. I should have. Do me a favour and don't act as dumb as me, okay?"
The sincerity in Bella's voice was almost painful. Carla reached out and pulled her into a hug. "Take care, honey," she whispered.
Bella gave her a little, twisted smile, wiped the back of her hand across her eyes, and hurried out to the playground.
"It's happened!"
"What?" asked Rita, still wondering what was so important that Alyson had made them all run out to the far corner of the field before she would tell them.
"Hunsford."
"Do you really think so?" asked Cindy. "I thought what we were doing was working."
"It was," said Jordan. "You should have seen them looking at each other during my guitar lesson."
"Well, something obviously happened," said Alicia. "I have never known Mr. Fitz to just assign work without any discussion and then sit in his chair and look out the window."
"At nothing, too," said Sarah. "I came up to his desk to ask him a question and I had to repeat myself three times before he heard me. And his answer made no sense."
"He didn't even get Adam to erase those sheep he drew all over the board," said Heather.
"Maybe he's just coming around to my way of thinking," said Adam.
"Adam, no one in their right mind wants your stick-sheep scrawled all over the blackboard," said Rita.
"I thought they were sorta cute," said Cindy with a little grin.
"Back to the point of this meeting," said Alyson. "When I saw Mr. Fitz this morning, I thought he was the saddest person I had ever seen, and then I saw Bella and she looked just as bad. My heart is breaking for them. There must be something we can do."
"Your meddling didn't help before," said Adam. "You know they're not Lizzie and Darcy, and if they were, it'd be a long time before they could get back together. They'd have to go to Derbyshire, and Lydia would have to run off with Wickham - but there's no Lydia and no Wickham either."
"I think we can help them," said Alyson. "I've got a few plans, if anyone would care to hear them." All the kids huddled closer, even Adam.
After school, Bella was determined to talk to D. She had only seen him from a distance once, and he had immediately turned away when she had looked in his direction. Just seeing him standing there had caused such a mixture of sensations, she had almost bolted from the school and left the children unattended. It was one thing to make decisions late in the night when one is falling asleep and trying to invoke hope in a hopeless situation, and another to face the man you have slandered to his face in the worst possible terms in the strong light of day. Especially when the man has kissed you in such an unforgettable way and you have given him reason to hate you with an equal passion.
Her heart beating in her throat, she hesitantly entered his classroom. Only Alicia was there.
"Have you seen Mr. Fitzwilliam?" she asked.
"I think he's in the sound room," said Alicia helpfully, and when Bella left to continue down the hall, she ran out to join her friends and tell them things were possibly looking up.
The room seemed empty and the lights were dim, but there was music drifting out of the sound room from the partially open door and light showing in the window. Bella edged closer and then froze. He was there, in plain view, sitting on a stool on the other side of the glass with his guitar in his hands, playing little disjointed riffs. It hurt to look at him - he was so beautiful and he was further from her reach than ever before. There was so much more between them than the hard vitreous surface.
He did not look up. Instead he bent over his instrument and began to pull music out of the strings. He played with a tight, deep emotion, his face concentrated inward, and he sang, indistinctly at first, but then with a hollow, empty voice that made the melancholy of the song all that much more difficult for Bella to bear.
. . . Cause I could break like a bird
He played using harmonics, making his guitar cry like a steel guitar to reflect the plaintive yearning of the lyrics, and then having it softly echo the resonance of a piano's notes. The chorus bit into her, as he put the strength of his pain into the familiar words.
. . . And what brings me down now is love
Bella felt tears sting her eyes. The loss and the hurt were made so real. It was as if she could see inside his soul and know that the damage there was all her own doing. This piece of music had always stirred her emotions but it had never been rendered so evocative as it was now with D playing it, his skin pulled taut over the fine bones of his face, giving him a fragility she had never before discerned.
. . . So I put my head on the ground
The tremolo twang of the stretched note ripped through Bella again. What he had lost - no, what they had both lost - was somehow more tangible; never to be reclaimed, but the memory always there to last and haunt them over the years. Every time she would see that huge, round sky she would remember her stupidity. Especially when it was black and thick with stars. How could she even imagine that her silly, futile effort at an apology would ever make any difference? She could never unsay anything, and what she had said - and not only said, but believed about him - was unforgivable. How could they ever overcome that?
. . . What brings me, what brings me down now is love
The last notes trailed out to the ending. He bent his head lower, his eyes closed, thick dark lashes nearly brushing his cheeks. He looked spent. Exhausted. As if he had tried to exorcise all his emotion and had left himself empty, unable even to move. Bella stood still, uncertain of what to do. The experience had been draining for her too and she knew what little courage she had entered the room with had long since deserted her.
He looked up - opened his eyes. Bella could see the vivid green through the glass. It was all she could see. There was nothing in that look but infinite sadness. She couldn't make the apology. Looking into his eyes had left her completely unbalanced. Talking to him was impossible. She was awash with shame. Breaking the aching contact of their eyes, she turned and ran.
What she didn't see was the look of desperate longing that followed her from the room.
* Runaway Train Soul Asylum
** Goodnight LA Counting Crows
Chapter 19
On Wednesday the writing club met in Mr. Fitzwilliam's room, the day having been changed because of the shortened week. It was difficult for Bella to feel anything like normal, but she knew she had to go through the motions and continue on with her days. The burden of not yet having apologised to D was weighing down upon her. She was certain that the last person he wanted to see was her; that the last thing he wanted was to be reminded of the awful encounter. He probably couldn't wait until school was over and he would never have to set eyes on her again. But at least if she managed to apologise and he knew she no longer believed the lies, he might not hate her quite so much. Was the apology a selfish act then? Would she be doing it only to look better in his eyes, or to ease his pain? She thought of how deeply she must have hurt him and knew, selfish or not, the apology was imperative. If only she could bring herself to face him without completely shattering.
She hesitated before entering the classroom. Would he be in there or would he have gone already, avoiding her completely? He was seated at his desk in the corner of the room as usual, a stack of books in front of him. Bella quickly glanced over in his direction. He did not look up. He was concentrated down upon something in his hands. Not the students' work, but a rock that he kept tumbling over and over. She looked away and almost stumbled over a desk. Her cheeks tingled, her heart lurched, and the knot in her stomach twisted tighter than the skin of a drum. She was certain that everything was written plainly over her face, but the kids just called out to her welcomingly and offered her a seat as if nothing was any different than usual.
D was behind her but somehow she sensed that though he must know she was in the room he had not looked up. Was determined not to look up. She tried to ignore the emptiness that yawned up inside of her and began talking with the children.
"I don't want our club to end for the summer," said Cindy. "Is there any way we can keep it going?"
"If you are all really interested we can probably meet at my house, if it's all right with your parents and Mr. Bing," said Bella.
"Do you think that would work, Mr. Fitz? Do you think we could do that?" called Alyson across the room.
He looked up, surprised at being addressed. His eyes looked blank. "Pardon?"
"Bella said we could keep having the club over the summer at her house if we were allowed. So do you think we could?" All the children looked over at him. Bella kept her head bent, but listened with all her soul for his words.
"I'm really not the person to ask," he said, "but it was very nice of . . . Bella to offer." He said her name carefully. The sound of it broke in Bella's ears. It was so different from when she had last heard it - first soft with passion, then sharp with confusion, and later tinged with bitterness and pain. This time it was thin and fragile as glass.
"I think it would be fun to have a campout!" said Rita. "We could get a group campsite and put up a few tents and stay by the lake for a week."
"And we could do art as well as writing," said Sofie.
"And have campfire singalongs," said Heather.
"You could come and play guitar for us, Mr. Fitz," said Sarah excitedly.
He looked over at the sound of his name and it was obvious that he hadn't been attending to a word they were saying.
"No, really," said Bella hurriedly. "You can't expect Mr. Fitzwilliam to . . ."
"What do you expect me to do?" he asked. The ache in his voice was like a slap to Bella's senses. She coloured and looked away.
"We want to camp for a week as a group," said Alyson. "Bella could supervise the girls and you could supervise the boys and you could bring your guitar for the singalongs." She looked at him hopefully.
There was an expression of surprise on his face. The moment stretched endlessly.
Bella turned to him. "I . . . they . . ." She couldn't formulate a sentence. She couldn't even think. Looking at him had turned her mind blank.
"I have baseball, so I can't camp," said Jordan.
"I don't mind camping by myself with the girls," said Adam with a mischievous grin.
"I'm sure you don't," said Rita, "but you're not coming in my tent."
"Or mine," said Cindy quickly.
"I don't think there would need to be a man along," said Bella quickly, her only thought to get D off the hook as soon as possible because he looked so uncomfortable. "Adam could just come for the day and go home at night. Maybe June could help me."
His face turned hard and emotionless. It was only after the words were out of her mouth and she had seen his reaction to them that she realised how they could easily be misunderstood. Bella longed to cry out, 'No I didn't mean I don't want you there. I'd love for you to be there. I just didn't want you to feel obligated, like you'd been backed into a corner with no way out.' But all she could do was send him a pleading look with her eyes.
"Then I could come when there wasn't a game or practice," said Jordan into the silence that stretched tightly between them
"But you could still join us for a campfire, Mr, Fitz, couldn't you?" Alyson gave him a soulful look that would break the hardest of hearts.
His face softened and he said, "You let me know when you're going camping and I'll try to be there."
Bella felt such relief that it brought tears to her eyes. He was so good to the kids - so good. Unfortunately, that thought sent shame flowing through her again and she turned away, unable to look at anyone for a few minutes. She heard D get up and leave the room and her mind followed him out. Why was he going? Had he had enough of being in the same room as her? Had she hurt him all over again? Would she ever be able to fix this mess she had made?
"We need to figure out when to go camping," said Alicia. "If we all go home and ask our parents for permission, can you organise the rest Bella?"
"My summer is free," said Bella, "so anytime is good for me. I'll find out when a campsite is available, and I'll ask Mr. Bing if I can just do it on my own or if it has to be a school project."
By the time the meeting was over, D had already left the school. Another opportunity missed. Bella sighed, sat in Carla's empty spot at her desk, and laid her head upon her arms. She was still lying there twenty minutes later when June found her.
"It didn't go well?" asked June, coming quickly to her side.
"I didn't get a chance to even try to apologise and now he's gone and I think I've made things worse than ever." Bella wiped fresh tears from her eyes.
"What happened?"
Bella related the whole conversation about the writing club going camping, finishing off with her comments that she was certain had offended D and caused him to leave the room, and the school.
"Bella, honey, you are being too hard on yourself," said June taking her hand. "You don't know why he left the room. Maybe he was planning to go home then anyway."
"He didn't say goodbye to the kids."
"Did you ever think that maybe he thought he had made you upset? That maybe he should leave because you were uncomfortable to have him in the room?"
"But that's almost as bad," said Bella. "I have to talk to him. He has to know that's not true."
"Let's go home now," said June, pulling Bella to her feet. "Tomorrow is another day. Maybe you could smile at him next time you see him instead of looking so strained. That would relieve some of the tension between you two and make it easier to talk."
'Smile! Oh June,' Bella thought, 'if only it were as simple to solve as that. If only I were capable of smiling in his presence with all that is between us hanging there heavily like smog, choking me.'
"So tell me all about the camping plan. It sounds like a great idea." June gave her enthusiastic support all the way home, and in time Bella had her energies directed and focused onto turning the kid's spontaneous idea into reality. She needed something to stop from dwelling on the sorrow in his eyes.
The next morning Bella phoned the provincial park to see if she could book a campsite for a week. As luck would have it, she was told that all the sites had been fully booked for the whole summer since March, but a cancellation for the first week in July had just been made the evening before. The site was a hike in, a little more secluded than the rest, and was right on the lake. It sounded perfect. Bella immediately reserved it, promising to bring in a deposit before the end of the day. If the kids weren't allowed to camp she would just use it herself. She left for school early so as to be able to talk to Chance, her spirits a little higher than they had been in a couple of days.
Chance was very excited about her suggestion. If she hadn't known differently, she could have sworn he already knew about it, but she had asked June not to mention it. She could only think the kids had been talking. It was decided that the scheme would go through the school/community summer program as a special project so that they would have insurance coverage. All Chance needed was a written proposal from her to pass by the board at the evening's meeting.
After school, Bella sat at Maddy's desk in the art room, refining a draft to give to Chance. If she had an assistant, she could set enrolment at ten, and even though it would have to be open to anyone, she would ensure that her kids received application forms ahead of anybody else. She was volunteering her own services to keep the cost to the kids down, but she had to factor in food expenses, her assistant's salary, and the cost of the campsite. Chance had said he would try to see if he could wangle a partial subsidy, but before that her figures had to be accurate. Math wasn't her strong suit and she was ready to hurl her calculator across the room when D suddenly walked in.
The very dust of the room became alive with tension as he stopped and looked across the plain of tables and stools to where she sat behind the great bulk of the desk.
"I didn't know you were . . . the girls said Maddy wanted to see me. She's not here, is she?" The hollowness of his voice rebounded off the walls - echoed in her ears.
"No." It was no more than a squeak.
"I'm sorry I disturbed you." His words fell like stones from his mouth. He turned and was gone as swiftly as he had come. It was as if Bella had imagined the whole exchange.
"No - please - stay. I need to talk to you," Bella cried to the empty room. She pushed back her chair and ran to the door, knocking down a number of stools in the process. He was already at the far end of the hall, rounding the turn in the corridor towards the outer door. "Please come back." It was a desperate whisper, meant for no one. She cried at her inadequacy. That she hadn't been able to yell it at the top of her voice and then follow her pleading call down the hall. Instead she sank to the floor and held herself tightly around the knees, fighting back tears. One half-hour later she had the proposal finalised and on Chance's desk, the only visible sign that she had been crying a slight puffiness about her eyelids.
The following day was sports day and the weather was perfect with variable cloud that would prevent the children and teachers alike from almost passing out with heat stroke during the activities. They had brought back some of the old favourites like the three legged race and the sack race that Bella hadn't experienced since her own childhood. The culmination of the day was the teachers versus the grade 6 and 7's tug of war. As the teachers all hurried to take their places, Bella pushed in between Carla and June, afraid to take the only open space available, the spot behind Carla, just in front of D who was the anchor. At the last minute, Carla let go of the rope and ran up to budge in near the front, causing everybody to move back so that Bella was forced closer and closer to D. She could feel his presence so strongly as their bodies almost touched each other. See his strong, long fingered hands beside hers on the rope. Smell the faint whiff of sandalwood from the soap he used.
At first the children had the edge, because of their numbers, but the teachers began to pull in earnest. It was a true rivalry - neither team was prepared to take age into consideration and let the other team win. D dug in his heels and could not be budged and then slowly, slowly, managed to lead his team in drawing the rope back until they had almost dragged the children past the flag. Then it happened. As if on some pre-planned signal, all the children let go and the teachers ended up falling into a heap of flailing arms and legs.
For a moment Bella found herself in D's arms. The feel of his firm body against hers and the touch of his hands on her bare skin sent shock waves through her. He moved her off him, mumbled something incoherent, and then turned away, getting up quickly. She sat where he had put her, unable to move at all.
Amidst all the shrieks of the teachers and the laughter of the children Bella felt like she was in a private little bubble. The tingle in her arms where his fingers had touched her and the memory of his body against hers reminded her vividly of the only other time she had been in his arms, his mind numbing kiss, and the way he had tenderly held her head to his chest, resting his chin upon her hair. That time she had harshly pushed away, severing the contact. This time he was the one to do it. He had been gentle, but he had managed to remove her and get up in a matter of moments. The speed with which he had extricated himself caused her to burn with hopelessness. He obviously wanted nothing to do with her any more. She was left with the knowledge that her apology must be made as soon as possible before the rift between them became unsurpassable. She looked across the playing fields and watched as he organised the children in garbage clean up. Her world might be shattered, but life still went on - if he could manage it, then so could she. Bella got up and attended to the group of children that she was responsible for.
"Hi Colin, have you seen D?" Bella's question was hurried. She had been all over the school but he was nowhere to be found. When she saw Colin in the office it was still the only thing she could think of. To find D and apologise.
"I don't see you for nearly a week and that's all the welcome I get?" He came over and put his arm around her shoulder. "You could at least say that you missed me."
"I missed you," said Bella dutifully. "Do you know where your cousin is? I need to speak to him."
"He just left, but he looked about as harried as you."
"Can I get a ride over to the Lodge?"
"It won't do you any good, Bella," said Colin, leading her over and sitting her at Carla's desk. "That's not where he went. He's gone to Kamloops to catch a flight to Victoria so that he can be with Tess for her graduation this weekend. He won't be back till late Sunday night."
Bella looked at Colin in disbelief, and then she slumped in the chair, defeated. "It's hopeless," she murmured.
"Just what happened between the two of you Monday night?" asked Colin. "I've never seen D such a wreck, and if you don't mind my saying, you look like you've been through the wringer." His eyes were warm and his face softened with concern.
"Didn't he tell you anything?"
"Aside from assuring me that you were fine, which Chance had already told me, I got nothing out of him."
"Well I said some very harsh things that I don't want to remember, let alone talk about, and now I'm having the heck of a time finding the opportunity to apologise."
"I think it's a little more complicated than that, isn't it?"
Bella nodded.
"I was really hoping you two would get together."
Bella looked at him. "So he was your other bird?"
"Yeah, but like I said, I was aiming at the wrong bird. You were the one that needed convincing, not him."
"Well, I'm convinced now, for all the good it's going to do me," replied Bella with no little bitterness. "I wish I had talked to you before . . . but now it's too late so let's just forget about it."
Bella sat pensive for a few moments and then looked back up at Colin who was just standing there, at a loss for something to say. "So what are you doing here? I hope it was Carla you came to see and not me."
"It was both. I wanted to see how you were doing, and I was hoping . . ."
"You weren't planning to come to watch the game with all of us tonight, were you?"
"Well . . . I had been thinking about it. At least I'd be out with Carla then, in a way."
Bella reached for his hand. "Do you want some really hard-earned advice? Take Carla somewhere you two can be alone. Kidnap her if you have to. Try and talk to her, but if she won't listen, just kiss her with everything you've got."
"I like your style. Do you really think it'll work?"
"As long as you don't kiss her the same way you kissed me," she answered with the hint of a smile. She had a different kiss altogether in mind.
"So I see . . . it wasn't my kiss that inspired this bit of wisdom."
"No, not your kiss at all."
Colin squeezed her hand. "Thanks."
Bella got up and gave him a swift hug and then left the office in search of June and Chance. Tonight's game was the Yankees versus the Cardinals, and Chance's favourite pitcher, Rocket Roger Clemens was about to make his third attempt at three hundred career wins. Chance wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Colin waited a few more minutes until Carla returned to her office.
"Well, look who's turned up like a bad penny!"
"Nice to see you too, Carla." Colin's grin was almost shy.
"I think you'll find Bella outside with June and Chance."
"I came to see you, Carla."
She gave him an appraising look. "I'm going to watch the Yankees game over at Chance's."
"I'll drive you."
"I've got my car here."
"Flat tire."
"I've got a flat? I knew I should have replaced that stupid tire."
"Well, maybe not yet, but if I get out to the parking lot quickly enough, you'll have a flat. Which tire is the one you need to replace?" He pulled out his Swiss army knife.
"Put it away, joker. I can't believe I almost fell for that."
"But you'll come with me anyway, won't you?" His smile was beguiling.
"What would I do about my car?"
"I'll bring you back for it later. Come on - you wouldn't want me to be all alone."
"You could take Bella. She doesn't have a car."
"If I wanted to take Bella, I'd ask her. I want to take you."
"Okay, okay. I'm crazy, but I'll go with you, if only to make you stop bugging me," said Carla, "but I have to lock up the office first, and make sure there're no widows open in the school, and set the alarms."
"I'll go check all the windows," said Colin.
Twenty minutes later they were in the Mustang headed in the direction of Chance's house.
"You didn't really need to check all the windows," said Carla, laughing. "Collins was still working. He does the alarms and the windows. I just wanted to see if you'd do it."
"I know - I met him in the gym. I had a little talk with him. I'm still trying to figure out how to get the school board to fire him."
"You and me both. Hey, where are you going? That was the turnoff to Chance's"
"I know, but I was advised to abduct you. Best advice I've had all year. Anyway, you have to admit that the last thing you want to witness is Chance jumping up and down with joy when Clemens gets his three hundredth win."
Carla heaved a big sigh and turned her head towards the open window. "I'm not going to fall for all your lines again. I'm not eighteen anymore."
"Can you give me some credit for having grown up too?"
"You'll never grow up, Colin. You love the attention too much."
"I haven't had a girlfriend in two years, Carla. Haven't you been paying attention?"
"It's just another line, Colin. Remember, I've heard them all."
Colin groaned. "I'm all out of lines, Carla. And I'm all done with chicks. I don't want anyone but you."
"The moment you met Bella, you were over here so fast. I guess once you realised D was interested you backed down." There was a bitter twinge in her tone that Colin did not miss.
"Bella and I fell instantly in like. There's nothing I want more than for her to be my cousin."
"That was some kiss for a cousin!"
Colin pulled the car over to the side of the mountain road and turned off the engine. "That kiss was nothing. I'll show you what a real kiss is." His voice was steady and strong. His eyes held hers with a light in them that she had not seen before. Carla's mind was crying, 'Move, move. This is exactly what he did to you before.' But her body was sending an entirely different message.
His lips met hers and his arms came around her at the same time. She didn't know quite how it had happened, but he was now in the passenger's seat and she was in his lap. He had always been a smooth mover, but this was somehow different, more intense, and much better than any of the kisses she remembered from ten years ago. Either he had improved with practice, or everything he had told her was true. After that last thought Carla lost contact with her brain. Reason was thrown to the wind. All that was left was the moment, and it was turning out to be the longest moment in history - and a moment she hoped would never end.
When Colin stopped to catch his breath, he murmured into her lips, "Is that a cousinly kiss?"
"I can hardly tell." Carla pulled him to her again and initiated the next kiss. Her hands were in his hair, stroking his back, holding him closer as they stretched out on the seat. As their lips broke apart again she said, "Why didn't you ever try that before?"
"I was too damn scared, I guess," he said, stroking her cheek and looking into her eyes with such a look of gentleness and caring. "And I never realised it would work quite so well."
"I was always lost when you kissed me. That's why I never let you anywhere near me."
A comment like that could not be left unanswered. It was some time before they were even able to breathe again.
"I have been dreaming of this moment for so long, but I never thought it would be so amazingly good."
"You still have all the lines," she said, kissing his nose.
"But they are only for you." He smiled down at her. "Don't ever doubt that again."
Bella was pleased to notice the absence of Carla and Colin at Chance's. Hopefully they would manage to patch things up. She was having a difficult time concentrating on the game. Cassandra was not even bothering to make comments pertaining to baseball, having no one to impress with her vast knowledge, so instead she was giving out the details of her latest manicure and pedicure complete with all the compliments she had received from the beauticians. Phil Collins was making increasingly elaborate and ridiculous bets with Chance, based on the minutest details of the game. Chance was cheering lustily when Clemens achieved his 4000th career strikeout, and gave Clemens a standing ovation when he finally left the field and the bullpen took over. June just smiled indulgently. When the win was finally a statistic for the record books, Chance collected his winnings from Collins and had a silly grin on his face that lasted the rest of the evening.
Bella noticed that she really missed being able to look over to D whenever someone else in the room said something particularly foolish, or whenever a good play was executed. She had never before realised the rapport they had shared during the games. She had been too caught up in hating him. She barely paid attention to this game and had no idea which batter had been the 4000th strikeout victim, or even what the final score was. The fall during the tug of war played over and over in her head. Why had D moved her off him and stood up so quickly? Had her very touch sickened him, had he worried what the kids would say, or did he think it was what she wanted? She remembered her words, 'Don't touch me again!' and his response, 'I won't. I promise you.' Had they really affected him so strongly? She hoped against hope it was that, for to think that he had recoiled from her touch in disgust was too devastating to endure.
Chapter Twenty
It was late in the evening when Chance finally drove Bella and June home. Bella said goodnight quickly and left the two of them alone to enjoy a more prolonged leave-taking. Out of habit, she checked the phone for messages. There was one for her from Aimee, asking for more paintings. Bella put down the phone and sighed. She hadn't even looked at a paintbrush in over a week, what with organising the students' art show and then . . . she shook her head in an attempt to stem the rushing thoughts - the painful spectres that never seemed to recede. Could she paint when there was such hollowness within her? When the images burned on her retina were not ones she wanted to explore?
In the morning she packed up her bag and grabbed a canvas. She wasn't ready to face the lake, so she headed out the back door and down the trail to the creek. The morning was perfect; birds sang in the trees, a gentle breeze rustled the topmost leaves, colours were bright, the air was warm and full of light. The kind of morning to set one's soul soaring with delight. But though Bella could see it all in a flat array of colour and shape, she could not feel it with any depth. She was empty and alone in a landscape that she could walk through but not truly enter.
She followed the creek further than she had ever done before until she came to an incline where the sparkling water cast itself over large boulders to a deep pool, white with turbulence, and then, as if it had never known such turmoil, continued softly flowing along a flat and spreading bed of gravel to widen into a still pond, its surface scattered with lily pads, and rushes at its bank. The change was absolute. Bella set up her easel. If there was one thing she longed for it was this sort of serenity. She began squeezing out paint onto her palette, and then she sat and stared at the blank canvas before her.
She started laying down colours, creating an underlay on which to build, to pull the depths of water reflecting sky out of that flat surface. To have it grow - to give it life. She entered that state beyond thought, where form and light have precedence, and then let herself go. Two hours later she was shocked to see on her canvas not the tranquil pond mirroring the lightness of the day, but the lonely stretch of dusk filled water that she had gazed upon that night while D's words spilled over her. It was forlorn and desolate, and it chilled her heart.
She walked back, more lost than she had been when she started out. At the waterfall she put down her pack and climbed the wet stones almost to its very heart. She immersed herself in the roaring sound as the rushing water cascaded around her. This was her place. She was not ready yet to move to the placid calm of level water. She could not capture peace that easily. She was still caught in a current that had to be fought if she were to survive.
On Sunday she knew she could not avoid the lake. She took a fresh canvas and drove the car to the parking lot in town. As she entered the path that wound its way through the trees she half expected to have Daisy bound out upon her, closely followed by her master but not even the echoes of their passage remained. That had happened months ago, and though Daisy was probably running carefree on the far shore of the lake, D was a world away, just outside Victoria, possibly sleeping from the all-night celebration that she knew high school grad to be. But she could not think of him - it wasn't safe. She had to go and paint the lake by morning to dispel its midnight image from her mind. Thinking of him would only bring everything back in full force, his voice, his words, the confusion in his face when she pushed him away. Instead she had to force herself to focus on the trees, the rocks, and the sun-warmed water glinting through the branches.
Bella found a spot where the ground was soft with years of layered needles, curved in a flowing hollow between the trees, the rich autumn brown of fallen leaves. Two large rocks broke through the surface, crusted with golden moss, and through the tracery of branches, water shone with light. She knew it should have filled her with the need to translate its essence upon her canvas, and yet she sat, unable to begin. Was it out of fear that she would somehow fill this too with haunted night-time shades?
She wrestled with putting down the bones of the scene, and though she had faithfully placed all the correct elements, the outline of the rocks, the leaning trunks, the swooping branches, she could not give it the life it needed to become real. She was hesitant - tentative in her every stroke. Taking care to keep her colours light and pure, but not knowing how to place them. In the end she gave up and wandered slowly back to the car. She needed to return home and hear to the warm sound of June's voice. All this solitude was weighing her down.
When Bella arrived at school on Monday she found a substitute in the grade 6/7 classroom.
"Mr. Fitz has taken the debate team to the finals in Clinton," said Alyson.
"Alicia has gone too," said Cindy. "She's our ace in the hole."
"Do you know when they'll be back?"
"Not until five," said Rita. "Have you heard anything about the camping trip yet? My mom says I'm allowed to go."
"Me too," said Sofie.
"I haven't talked to Mr. Bing yet. I'll let you know as soon as I find out."
Bella did her rounds despondently, and even though Chance came out to see her, brimming with pleasure at his good news, she found it difficult to respond in kind.
"I was able to get a subsidy, so you can hire an assistant and it will still only cost the kids seventy-five dollars for the week!" He beamed at her.
"That's wonderful," she said softly, attempting to smile. "I'll let them know about it right away."
She handed out the application forms after school and desperately tried to keep her focus on the excited discussion, but her thoughts were far away in Clinton in an unknown auditorium, wondering if the Pember Elementary debate team coach was as completely abstracted as herself.
On Tuesday, Carla stopped her in the office. "Do you have a moment to talk?"
"Sure."
"I just wanted to thank you for your advice. It worked wonders." Carla had a look of happy contentment about her.
"So you finally gave him a chance and listened to him? I told you he was sincere."
"I'm not talking about that advice. I'm talking about the advice you gave Colin!" Carla's grin spread across her face. "But we did talk afterwards. Quite a while afterwards! I'm so happy - I'm in love all over again. And this time I really believe that he does love me. When he finally told me it was nothing like before. Back then he said it too easily - this time he was almost afraid to tell me."
Bella gave her a hug, and felt some of Carla's happiness seep inside of herself with the contact.
"And he apologised for everything bad that happened in our past. He said, 'There was a movie once that said love means never having to say you're sorry. That's garbage. You need to know how sorry I am, and how much I regret ever having hurt you like that, and I need to tell you, from the bottom of my heart, or I couldn't live with myself. I'm sorry - I promise you I will never cheat on you again. I can't promise to never ever to hurt you, unintentionally, but I hope that we will always be able to talk about it openly and not suffer years of misunderstanding. I couldn't bear to lose you once more.' I never knew he was such a romantic guy." Carla wiped a tear from her eye. "And here I am, blubbering like a love struck idiot. You'd better get to work."
"You may be a love struck idiot," said Bella with a smile, "but it looks good on you." She walked out of the office feeling better than she had in what seemed like an eternity, and found herself face to face with D, as he was walking toward the office. They both stopped, just short of bumping into each other, and then Bella raised her eyes to his face. It was impossible to tell by his expression what he was thinking and feeling, but she remembered June's advice and smiled a tremulous smile.
"Hi." It was all she could manage.
"Hi." His voice sounded just as stilted as hers, but she noticed a change in the light in his eyes. She was beginning to feel lost looking up into them.
"Bella! The boys are running around the classroom. Hurry - they won't listen to us when we tell them not to!" It was three little girls from the K-1 classroom.
"I have to go," said Bella, her heart pounding high in her chest. She ran after the girls who began filling in all the details of what the boys were up to, but all the time she knew that he had turned and was still standing there in the hall, watching until she disappeared through the classroom door. She had smiled and she had talked to him, and she had seen something more in his eyes than the hardness and pain. She felt little stirrings of hope deep in the vacuum of her soul. Hope that she would finally be able to bring herself to face him and apologise. Hope that they would one day be able to work together without that bitter pain stretching between them - that they might even be able to overcome her accusations and put them behind themselves, and possibly, just possibly, become friends. She could expect no more than that.
Bella was disappointed that after such an encouraging start, for the rest of the day and all of the next they were both so busy she did not see more of him than his distant figure at the end of the hall, although once, while she was out on the playground, she thought she felt his eyes upon her, and turning, saw a shadowy figure move away from the window of his classroom. On Thursday she had quite given up the idea that he would be in the classroom during the writing club, but when she walked through the door he was there, sitting at his desk, playing with the rock in his hands. He even looked up and she smiled tentatively to him as she joined the children in their circle of desks. There was a flickering on his face that warmed it slightly and he kept his eyes on her until she was seated.
Thoughts bounced around for space in Bella's mind, making it difficult for her to attend to the disjointed discussion going on around her. Could they both somehow stay in the classroom after the children left? Would she be able to find the words to tell him how terrible she felt? Were there words that could possibly make up for thinking him a pervert? With each thought she found it even more impossible to look in his direction as the enormity of what she had said to him came ringing back in on her. It was impossible. How could she imagine that he would ever want to be friends with her even after she apologised?
From the corner of her eye she noticed Sofie get up and go over to D's desk. She was suddenly caught by the novelty of Sofie approaching her teacher.
"Is that a special rock?"
D looked up at her, surprised. He had been so intent on passing the stone back and forth in his hands that he hadn't noticed her approach the desk.
"Pardon me?"
Sofie looked down, blushing, and then regained her courage. "I asked you about the rock, Mr. Fitz. Is it special? Where did you get it?"
D appeared to think for a moment. "No, I guess it's not really special. It's just an ordinary beach stone. I found it when I was out on the lake . . . on the last pro-d day." He shot a swift glance over in Bella's direction. Their eyes met for one painful moment and then they both looked away.
"Can I see it?" Sofie held out her hand. "I like rocks."
D passed it to her and watched her intently as she rubbed it between her fingers.
"It's smooth."
"I've had it in my pocket. I've been touching it a lot," he admitted.
"Sort of like a worry stone?" Sofie asked.
"I guess you could say that." He put out his hand and she gave it back to him.
"It's nice," she said. "Thanks." She looked into his eyes at that moment and all her shyness seemed to come back to her. She returned to her desk quickly, her head bent and her cheeks flaming. When she sat down, Alyson put her arm around her and whispered in her ear. D watched her go and then looked across at Bella quizzically. She shrugged and then they both seemed to remember the gulf that existed between them and they turned their heads back to what they had been doing before.
Bella came to notice that aside from the discussion about the latest chapters in their stories, there seemed to be a strange sort of undercurrent going on between the kids. There were occasional whisperings back and forth that Bella found quite mystifying.
"It's too risky," whispered Jordan.
"It's too obvious," whispered Alicia. "He'll figure out what we're . . ."
"This calls for drastic action." Cindy looked over at Bella and then lowered her voice as she continued.
"I'm going to write a story where Mrs. Bennet has another baby," said Rita loudly. "And it'll be a boy and then Mr. Collins has a fit."
"You should make him die," said Lise. "He could choke on his food. Have you ever seen how disgusting it is the way he stuffs his face?"
"He'll just think we're being silly kids." Sarah's voice was barely audible, but Adam was a bit louder.
"He already does and who can blame him."
"And then Charlotte would be free to marry the colonel, and not Caroline, like you want," said Rita smugly.
"I don't care who he marries in your stories," said Lise. "In my stories Caroline is the one he likes."
"Well, I'm doing it, whatever you say," said Alyson, standing with determination and almost knocking her chair down. She walked up to D's desk.
"Mr. Fitz, I'm doing a survey," she said.
He looked up at her. "Is this a school project? I don't remember assigning it." There was a hint of humour in his tone.
"No. Um - I just like to do surveys now and then. Um - okay, number one - do you think pride is a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Hmm. This sounds like quite a serious survey, Alyson. I think a person should take pride in their work and accomplishments, but not to the point where they think who they are makes them better than other people. There is a fine line between pride and vanity."
"Good answer," said Alyson, scribbling furiously on the pad in her hands. "Number two - do you take offence when people do foolish or bad things?"
"Have you kids done something that you don't want to tell me about?"
"No," said Alyson hurriedly. "It's just my survey. Okay - let's go on to the next question instead. Number three - is your good opinion, once lost, lost forever?"
D gave Alyson an appraising look. He smiled at her softly and said, "I understand." It was light and warm and appreciative. Bella, who had been paying close attention to the conversation, lifted her head, caught by the sound in his voice. He looked over at her and held her eyes in a long, steady gaze. "No Alyson. Implacable resentment is not my style." He continued to hold Bella's eyes until she turned away, blushing in confusion. It was obvious they had just been set up.
Bella thought back to all sorts of other occurrences that had not seemed to make sense at the time. Back to that other survey that Alyson had given her. The kids had been doing it for a long time, she realised. Even they had seen what she had missed - had been smarter than her - and this last week and a half she must have been totally transparent to them.
"All right, Miss Emma Woodhouse, you can go back to your desk now," said D. "I think you've played your last card. All of you," he added gently, looking at the group. He got up and quietly walked out of the room.
Bella continued to sit, looking at her hands, trying to organise her thoughts. She knew now that even though she had slandered him so badly to his face, he would listen to her when she apologised. It was hard for her to believe that he could take it all so calmly - treat her with so much kindness. She didn't deserve it. And the kids, though she knew they could have no idea of what actually had passed between her and D, seemed surprisingly cognisant of their situation. They must be able to read her like a book. She felt all her embarrassment rise again at the fact that things she thought were private were really so out in the open. She understood why D had left the room this time. It was not in anger or disgust. It was like he was telling her that though he was willing to listen to her apology, this was not the time or the place. No. She couldn't apologise at school. She would have to find some other place to do it, and it was totally up to her.
When Alyson returned to the group she sat down and whispered to Jordan, "That may have been my last card, but it was an ace."
"Yeah, but now they know," he whispered back. "Don't you feel a little foolish?"
"It was worth it," she said with a smug look at the rest of them.
Bella roused herself from her thoughts long enough to tell the kids that she didn't think they were going to get anything constructive accomplished anymore so they might as well call it a day. She didn't mention anything else, and for that more than one of the kids was supremely grateful.
Friday was the last hot lunch day of the school year, and Chance had given his cousin strict orders for pizza, which he was sure she would have difficulty messing up. Aside from one of them having anchovies, sun dried tomatoes and feta cheese, there was nothing to complain about.
Cassandra was sporting a little tangerine sundress that could have passed for one of Venus Williams' tennis outfits, only she didn't fill it out in the same way at all. When D came down the hall, she sidled up to him and batted her eyelashes.
"How was the pizza?"
"One slice I had was so salty, I had to drink two bottles of Snapple."
It wasn't quite the reaction she had hoped for, but she tried again.
"Has darling Tess come yet? I can't wait to see her. I was so sorry not to be able to make it to her graduation."
"Did she invite you?" he asked, with more interest than he had earlier shown.
Cassandra chose to ignore the question. "Is she coming tonight? I'll go with you to Kamloops to pick her up, then she and I can share our secrets all the way home. You know - girl talk."
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I picked her up last night." He didn't appear disappointed in the least.
"She must be so happy to be finished her exams. I'll come over tonight and take her for a girls' night out."
"We already have plans, but I'll tell you what - I'll get her to call you."
Bella was standing in the office all this time, ostensibly writing out her time sheet. Every so often something that Cassandra said made her smirk, despite herself. She was impressed with D's tact and patience in dealing with her. Everything he did impressed her now and she wondered how she could have overlooked all his positive attributes for so long. The lies Collins had told her only seemed ludicrous to her now.
D finally extricated himself from Cassandra's grasp, and as he walked past Bella to get to Chance's office, he whispered, "Don't eat the anchovy pizza."
Bella looked after him, her cheeks burning, her blood suddenly pumping ferociously through her veins and she wondered how she could ever cope when a simple comment from him like that sent her senses reeling. She picked up her plate, unobtrusively slipped one slice of pizza into the garbage, and walked down the hall to the art room.
It took Carla fifteen minutes to find the partially completed timesheet where it had fallen on the floor, half under her desk. She did what she considered a reasonable imitation of Bella's signature, and a much more confident one of Chance's, and slipped it into the courier bag for pick up.
Chapter Twenty-one
This time, Aimee caught Bella just as she got in.
"I have none of your paintings left," she said, her voice sounding urgent and crisp through the phone line. "Customers are asking for your work. I told you that summer is prime time - don't you have anything for me?"
Bella was reluctant about the two pieces she had, that haunting picture of the lake and the watercolour that she hadn't even looked at since that disastrous Monday. She had thrown her sketchbook into a corner of her room and it was lying there still. She was afraid to open it. Then there was the unfinished picture she had started last Sunday. Maybe she could go out in the morning and doctor it up. "I think I can bring something in tomorrow."
"Please. You really should consider quitting that job at the school. It appears to take up too much of your time. You know I want you to do a show this August. That's fifteen to twenty paintings."
"There's less than a week left of school," said Bella. "I'll have all of July to paint, but I can't promise twenty paintings."
"Well, do what you can. I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early."
"I'll be in at the end of the day, before you close."
Bella put down the phone and threw herself on the couch. The last thing she needed was to feel like she was under pressure to produce. Art didn't work that way - not for her at least. And anyway, she had more important things to consider. She had to figure out how she would find D alone somewhere to apologise.
An hour later, frustrated beyond belief, and wanting respite from the memories that wouldn't leave her, she decided to face the painting issue first. She went into her bedroom and turned the canvases around from where she had them faced against the wall. The one filled her with so much sadness just looking at it; she couldn't imagine anyone wanting to buy it. Would it strike a disinterested observer in the same way? Bella wasn't sure, but she couldn't lay herself open quite like that. This painting came from a place she wouldn't take anyone. She turned it back to the wall again.
The other painting was different. It was dead as dust and bones, but all it needed was to be built upon - given flesh and heart and light. She should be able to do that. She put it beside her easel to take to the lake in the morning. Now all that was left was opening the sketchbook in the corner. When she had used the watercolour pencils out on that far arm of the lake to draw whatever was emblazoned on that page, she had been in a confused and troubled state. She knew now that her mind had been warring with her soul, that her disappointment had rivalled her disgust. She dimly remembered blurring the colours together and then seeing the prow of the canoe. Further than that she did not want to think.
The book felt cold in her hands. She flipped past rough sketches until she came to the one page that was fully coloured in a murky meld of tones that almost made her throw it back into the corner. But instead she forced herself to study it, and then she realised that she could reclaim it. She could lift all the darkness and disgust from the paper and put warmth into the stones, vibrancy into the tree roots, and light into the water. She could remove all her misconceptions about the man that crowded in on the picture, clouding it, and add what she now knew - his sensitivity, kindness, gentleness. The beauty of his soul.
She took the book and her watercolour pencils to the kitchen table, filled a jar with water, and grabbed some paper towels. She gently began to wet the picture and lift little pockets of dingy colour. The paper was heavy and of high quality, and stood up well to the treatment without buckling or abrading. Little by little she brought white back into the picture, added touches of cadmium yellow and viridian, hints of violet, gentle drifts of cerulean blue, soft patches of rich, warm umber.
She was finishing up when June arrived home.
"When did you paint that?" asked June. "It's simply beautiful."
"You should have seen it two hours ago."
"Did you do it out of your head?"
"I did it the other day . . . when I lost myself out on the lake. I just fixed it. I took out all the confused feelings that were in my head then and replaced them with the truth."
Saturday dawned clear and bright. Bella had a quick breakfast and drove to the lake with her unfinished canvas. The light was similar to that on the previous Sunday, so all she had to do was find the same spot and go for it. After her success at reclaiming the watercolour the night before, she was feeling very optimistic about this painting too. It was as if she had exorcised one of her demons.
She wound her way off the path, ducking branches and circling trunks, and as she neared the little hollow between the trees she heard music drift towards her, the warm notes of acoustic guitar. Her heart leapt up, but then she heard, mingled with the music, soft, feminine singing. Through the crossing branches she could see a girl sitting on a rock, playing a six string. Bella walked carefully through the trees so as not to disturb her.
I wonder bout his insides . . . It's like his thoughts are too big for his size.
And now I rub my eyes . . . for he has returned
She sang in a clear and mellow voice that blended with the rhythm. Bella took a step closer and the girl looked up. The broken notes of her song hung in the air. Her soft, brown curls feathered about her face and gently brushed her shoulders. She regarded Bella with startled green eyes that showed a hint of fear. The eyes decided it for her. They were almost the same green, but so much more vulnerable. Bella came through the branches and stood by the edge of the tiny glade.
"You are D's sister, aren't you?" Her voice held subtle warmth.
"Yes, I'm Tess," she answered shyly.
"I'm Bella. I'm sorry I disturbed you. I know I don't like it when people come up and watch me paint. Is it the same for you?"
"I don't like people to hear me . . . I get nervous."
"I'm glad I got to hear you - you play so wonderfully - like your brother."
"No. He is so much better than I am."
"You have a light tough and such a feel for the music. I love that song you were singing. I'd like to sing it with you sometime, only I'm not very good at all."
"Oh no, you must be."
"I'm not, and I never sing in front of anybody if I can help it." Bella remembered the day that D had come upon her when she was singing along to Counting Crows while she was tidying up the art room.
"Did you come out here to paint?" asked Tess, indicating the canvas under Bella's arm.
"Yes, you can look at it if you like." She moved fully into the clearing and turned the painting to Tess. "I started it last Sunday, but . . . well - you know how it is. Sometimes my mood doesn't co-operate. I don't think the creative urge was there."
"It's good," Tess said, after studying it for a moment. She looked about herself. "Is it this place right here?"
"Yes. Do you mind if I join you?"
"Oh, no. I'll leave so you can have your spot," said Tess, getting to her feet.
"Stay, please. I would love it if you would play while I paint - that is if you don't mind. Usually when I paint outdoors the only music I have is in my head."
"But I'll be in your way."
"You'll be part of my picture," said Bella, smiling.
"Really? Would you want me in your painting?"
"Why not? Your music will really set the mood for the picture. I've been watching you sit and play here. You belong. I think that is what's missing in the composition - a central focus."
"Okay, but what if I move?"
"You don't have to pose. Just be yourself and play the guitar, whatever is natural. Pretend I'm not even here."
"I don't know if I can do that."
Bella put up her easel and spoke quietly to Tess all the while, to set her at her ease. Then she began to lay out her paints as Tess picked up her guitar and tentatively continued playing the same song. She sang through the lyrics much softer this time around, only feeling comfortable enough near the end for Bella to actually hear them.
And now he's home and we're laughing . . .
Like we always did . . . my same old . . . same old friend . . .
Bella joined in softly as she mixed her paints and began touching them to the canvas.
Until a quarter to ten . . . I saw the strain creep in . . .
He seems distracted and I know just what'd going to happen next . . .
Before his first step . . . He is off again . . . *
Tess played on lightly and lyrically while Bella painted, humming along and occasionally singing odd snatches when she knew the words. She was in that half aware state where outside influences barely registered. The music had become the essence of the painting process as she explored the gentle fragility of filtering light as it mingled with the airy notes. For her, Tess was just as much a part of the scene as the rock and the moss and the soft, fragrant earth.
After some time Tess put down her guitar and came around behind Bella to see how she was progressing.
"Do you know something? Your painting really reminds me of one I noticed at the lodge. I mean - it's not the same, or anything, but there is something about the feel of it."
"There are two of my paintings in the lobby," said Bella self-consciously.
"Oh . . . you are the artist." Tess suddenly became shy again. "And you just painted me - oh my!"
"Tess, I'm the same person I was a moment ago, singing off key with you. At least - I was singing off key - you have perfect pitch."
"You sang very well."
Bella smiled at Tess, shaking her head. The girl had the kindness of her brother, layered with sweetness and a hint of loneliness. Bella reflected that besides her brother and cousins, she probably didn't have many close friends in town, after all, she had been going to boarding school for almost five years. She hardly supposed Tess was any more taken with Cassandra than D was. What she needed was to be drawn out of herself, and Bella knew just the people to do it.
"What are your plans for the summer?"
"I was hoping Colin would let me work at the lodge but he said I should have a good time till I lock myself away with books again in September. I'll hang out with Dar . . . D a lot."
"Where are you going to university?"
"UVic. I'm going to take general studies - I'm not really sure what I want to do. I thought of being a teacher, but I'm too shy. I really do like kids, though. Maybe I could teach kindergarten."
"I have an idea. How would you like a job for a week? I'm taking ten grade 6's and 7's camping, and I need an assistant. They are really great kids - my creative writing group. We're going to write, paint, swim, and just plain have fun. The pay isn't much, but you would get about $400.00."
"But . . . you hardly know me. You must already have someone that you want to help you."
"No, I don't. I was thinking of my friend June at first, but she is going to visit her family that week. I may have just met you, but I do know a little about you. I work at the same school as your brother."
"Yes, you said you know him."
Bella blushed. "A bit. I'm only the lunch supervisor and the art TA," she said quickly to hide her embarrassment. She didn't want Tess to know about the strained relationship between herself and D, at least not yet - not before she had her consent. Bella had no idea what D would tell Tess about her, but she was sure that he wouldn't mind if she came on the camping trip. She sincerely hoped not, at any rate.
Tess considered for quite a while and then began tentatively. "I think . . . I'd like to, but . . . I don't want the money." She took a deep breath. "Could you pay me with this painting?" It came out all in a rush, and then Tess looked down at her feet.
"Well, Aimee has been bugging me for more paintings, but . . ."
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even asked."
"It's okay, Tess. I would love for you to have it. I will paint another one tomorrow to keep Aimee happy. It's going to be wonderful having you as an assistant."
Tess smiled shyly. They talked for a few more minutes, Bella giving details about the camping trip, and then Tess packed up her guitar. "I promised to drop in on Aimee and then I have to go over to Aunt Kat's." She grimaced. "I'll see you later."
Bella painted for about an hour more, just adding little touches here and there, contemplating, assessing, and adding a few more. The painting was warm and light and filled her with hope. As she packed up, she noticed that the weather was changing. Clouds were darkening the sky, and the air had almost instantly cooled. She ran to June's car as little drops of rain began to pelt down, and quickly stowed the canvas inside. Bella reached for her sketchbook, and hurried with it across the parking lot to The Lakehouse. Aimee was not thrilled with only getting one watercolour, but she professionally went about choosing a matt and frame for it that met both her and Bella's approval.
After supper Bella nervously wandered about the cabin. Once she had invited Tess to be her assistant, she realised that tonight had to be the night. She couldn't make overtures to his sister without settling things with D first. She looked in the mirror - her eyes stared back at her hollowly, dark circles still visible underneath them. Her hair was wildly flying in all directions, full of tangles.
Bella washed her face, smoothed on cream, and tamed her hair, but she still felt that she needed something to give her the strength to get through what was sure to be an emotional ordeal. She rubbed her arms. They were prickled with goosebumps. She knew that in her nervousness she would soon be shaking uncontrollably if she didn't have something to keep her warm. She went into her room and opened the closet. The first thing that assailed her nostrils was the lingering scent of sandalwood, filling her heart with such longing she felt that it would burst.
She pulled the sweater from deep within the shelves, and grasped it close to her. The next thing she knew it was over her head and falling softly about her hips. Warming her, comforting her, bringing him closer. She didn't know what D would think seeing her wear it, but she could no more take it off than will herself to stop breathing. She smoothed her hair, grabbed up June's keys, and was out the door before indecision could attack her again.
She walked into the lobby of the lodge with more confidence than she was actually feeling. Colin was at the reception desk and looked up. His surprise at seeing her was evident.
"Is he here, Colin?" Her apprehension rose to show in her face.
"He's in his room. Do you want me to get him?"
"No, this is something that has to be between him and I - no one else."
"Follow me then." He led her along a hall, through a private sitting room, and pointed down another hall. "It's the open door on the left," he said in an under-voice, and put his arm around her shoulders, giving her an encouraging squeeze.
She walked down the corridor, slowly, hesitantly. Her feet made no sound on the thick carpeting. It seemed as if time was stopping and she would never arrive at the door, but when she did it was as if it had all happened too fast. She had to face him now. Was she ready? Would she ever be?
Bella stopped inside the doorway. D was sitting on the edge of his bed, his back to her, staring at the wall over his headboard. She barely noticed him as her eyes were involuntarily drawn there, and once drawn, held locked. He had told her that he had bought three paintings and this was the third. It was the storm. Trees tilted wildly towards pewter water that rippled with dark intensity. The sky was a fury of angry clouds and bright gashes. You could almost hear the rain shattering upon the lake, and shadows rose up in the far reaches of the woods, ominous with things unseen.
The wildness of the painting - the strength it portrayed - bolstered her faltering courage. She opened her mouth to say his name - capture his attention.
"D."
He turned slowly. His look took all of her in and almost stopped her heart. There was no appearance of surprise, only deep, dark pain. "I used to always try and figure out just what you were thinking of when you painted this. Now I look at it and think that it must have been me - and that's something I don't want to see - the way you were thinking of me - but for some reason I can't stop looking at it." His voice came flat and hard, impenetrable like wall. Bella's insides froze. She tried to move, to speak, though without knowing what she was about to say, but she couldn't do either. He wiped his hand across is face and then said in a softened voice. "It really is you. I thought you were a vision I had conjured up . . . I'm sorry - I've been torturing myself - I didn't mean . . ."
Bella suddenly came to life. "Don't say you're sorry . . . you have no reason . . . I'm the one . . . I'm." She stopped and began again. "Listen - when I painted that, I was caught in a storm. It was the weekend you were in Vancouver. I know this will sound strange to you, given all that I said . . . but - I think on some subconscious level I was missing you. I was filled with so much confusion and so conflicted." She thought about her reaction to the sweater, how she had held it up to her face and breathed him in without realising it and then angrily stuffed it into the far recesses of her closet. "Even though I thought you were bad, part of me always wanted you to be good."
She took a few steps into the room and when he opened his mouth to say something, she held up her hand. Her voice shook. "No. I need to do this now, before I lose my courage. I'm sorry for hurting you - for all that I said . . . and thought about you. I can't think of it without being filled with shame . . . I have no excuses. I believed the worst lies about you just because . . . just because I was offended. I wouldn't listen to June. I ignored everything wonderful about you that was so obvious, and I chose to accept the word of two of the slimiest . . . it is unforgivable . . . but I just want you to know that I regret ever saying - ever thinking any of it . . . ever . . ." She turned to go, tears streaming down her face, unheeded.
"Bella, wait." He was suddenly beside her. "I can't lie and say it didn't hurt - still doesn't hurt - but I know you think differently now. Let's put it behind us and start over."
"How can you want anything to do with me anymore? How can you forgive me for what I've done?"
He reached out and took her chin in his hand, lifted her face to look at him, and wiped the tears from her cheeks with his other hand. "How could I not forgive you? I'm not blameless in this either. I said some thoughtless, hurtful things. I watched you . . . I wasn't open with you. I can understand how my actions could have been misinterpreted. Thank you for what you said about the painting. It makes me feel better . . . now please, don't cry."
Being treated with so much kindness and told not to cry made Bella feel more like crying than ever. Her eyes filled, blinding her. She couldn't speak for fear of breaking down.
"I really like your sweater," he said softly, his head close to her ear.
"Oh! Your sweater - I almost forgot. Here, I'll take it off." She started to pull her arms out of the sleeves.
D put out his hand to stop her. "Seeing you wear it told me something I know you can't bring yourself to say. I think it warmed me as much as the sweater is warming you. Besides, I like the way it looks on you. Keep it on or I'll just have to lend you another one." He ran his hand from her shoulder down her arm. Slowly. His eyes were filled with light. He was just reaching to put his other arm around her, just bending his head closer to hers, when running steps were heard and someone burst excitedly into the room.
Bella was out of her trance and had jumped two feet back by the time the person spoke.
"Dar - oops D . . . I didn't know anyone was here with you . . . oh! Bella. Hi!"
Tess came to a stop, flushed not only from excitement but also from sudden embarrassment.
"You two know each other?" asked D, looking from one to the other.
"Yes, we met this morning," said Bella, attempting to slow her breathing and regain composure.
"Bella was painting and I was playing guitar - she told me she knew you a bit - I guess that was an understatement." Tess looked up at her brother and then across to Bella, her curiosity evident, but neither enlightened her. "I just got back from Aunt Kat's and what I really came here for was to tell you about meeting Bella this morning. Has she told you about her offer yet?"
"Offer?"
"I asked Tess if she could be my assistant for the campout."
"And she painted me in a painting that she's going to give me if I do it. Isn't that great?"
"You must have had some meeting," said D, smiling. "Just one morning and she's both painted you and offered you a job. What else?"
"I played for her and we sang together."
D turned to Bella and raised an eyebrow, "Really? And here I was stuck in a business meeting with Colin."
Bella smiled and then looked down. It was difficult to be natural. She felt a lot happier, but she had just made it through a very emotional scene, and D was still affecting her in an extremely disturbing way. Had he been about to kiss her again, or was that her imagination? She couldn't really think why he would want to, even though she had apologised - there was still an ocean of things between them. One of which was her inability to act rationally when she was near him. She was going to have to do something about that if her new friendship with his sister was going to throw them together during the summer.
"I'd better be going," said Bella when Tess had finished giving D the details of their morning together in the woods.
"Please, stay." D gave her a look that sent a twinge tingling high in her chest. Her throat felt dry, but it was hard to swallow.
"I'm sorry - I interrupted you. I'll go," said Tess.
"No," Bella forced herself to say. "You haven't seen your brother all day, and I really do need to go. Aimee will be upset if I don't have another painting for her tomorrow. I have to get some sleep."
They both walked her out to June's car, and as D held the door open for Bella he said in a low voice, "Thanks for giving Tess the job, and the painting, and - well - everything. I'll see you."
Bella turned the car and drove along the winding road. 'I'll see you.' On top of all that had taken place that evening those three simple words set her heart singing. He still wanted to see her.
* Off He Goes, Pearl Jam
© 2003 Copyright held by the author.
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Colin drew his hand back through his hair. "I'm an idiot. This thing between Carla and me is driving me crazy. I just wanted her to realise that she still cares about me."
I was a key that could use a little turning
So tired that I couldn't even sleep so many secrets I couldn't keep
Promised myself I wouldn't weep one more promise I couldn't keep
This time I have really led myself astray
Wrong way on a one way track . . .
Make it somehow all seem worthwhile . . .
With a ticket for a runaway train . . . *
Or I could swallow the sea
It seems like the daylight is coming
And no one is watching but me . . .
Cause I can never get enough
What brings me down now is love
Cause I can never get enough of love . . .
And the sky is a wheel
Spinning these days into things that I've lost
But you can keep all the years . . .
And I can never get enough, never get enough
No-o, no, no. Never get enough of love **
He's been taken . . . where? I don't know . . . off he goes
With his perfectly . . . unkept hope . . . there he goes . . .
Seems my preconceptions are what should have been burned . . .
For he still smiles . . . and he's still strong . . .