- -
- 100%
- +
Instead, she’d led mainly a solitary life, finding fulfillment in teaching and later, success in writing. Success that had come at a price. Her hard work over the past few years had pretty much excluded a personal life. At least, one that sustained love and the promise of a long-term partnership. Now the notion of marriage and children was not only daunting, but completely mind-boggling.
“IT WAS SO WONDERFUL of you to come,” Lisa Stuart said to Clare as her twelfth-grade English class scrambled out the door.
Clare smiled at the woman who had been not only her favorite teacher in high school, but who’d inspired her to major in English at college. She was struck again by how little her teacher had changed over the years. But then, she reminded herself, seventeen years ago Lisa Stuart had been a new teacher and probably not much older than her students. It was odd how once you passed thirty, the age gap seemed to shrink.
“I just hope they weren’t too bored,” Clare said.
“Heavens, no! Did you notice how quiet it was in here when you were speaking? They hung on to every word.”
“Especially the ones referring to royalties,” Clare quipped.
“Yes, very typical of young people these days to get to the bottom line.” She sighed. “If there’s no money attached to something, it seems there’s no value in it. Are you sure you don’t want to come up to the staff room for a coffee?”
“I really need to get on the road. I’m due in Hartford at noon.”
Lisa nodded. “Thanks again, Clare. It was very nice to be able to brag about you. Teachers don’t always have success stories like yours. And it was lovely of you to attribute some of that success to me, though I think you were far too generous.”
“Not at all, Miss Stuart. You weren’t just my favorite. All the kids loved you. By the way, Laura Dundas sends her regards. Remember her? She married Dave Kingsway.”
“Please call me Lisa, Clare. And yes, I remember Laura very well. I saw the birth announcement in the Spectator. She and her husband must be thrilled.”
“They are.” Clare began to pack the sample books she’d brought into her canvas bag. She glanced around her.
“Missing something?”
“My new book. I passed it around but I don’t see it anywhere.”
Lisa frowned. “It’s got to be here.” She walked around the room. “There it is. Someone’s left it on a desk. Kids never seem to listen.” She brought it to Clare. “And thanks for signing my personal copy.”
Clare tucked the book into the bag. “Well thank you for buying a copy. I was going to give you one.”
“You can’t give them away, Clare. Every cent of royalty counts. Have you had a chance while you were in town to see many of your old high-school friends?”
Clare wondered how much her former teacher had been aware of her students’ personal lives. “Not really,” she evaded. “Most have moved out of Twin Falls.”
“I read yesterday’s article in the Spectator,” Lisa said.
Clare fiddled with the clasp on her purse. “Oh, yes? What did you think of it?”
“Typical of that reporter’s usual fare. An attempt to be sensational. To incite public speculation. I hate it when journalists pretend to be writing one thing but really have an agenda all their own. He starts off by claiming to review your novel and suddenly shifts into something that happened years ago. I haven’t finished your book yet, but I found his claims about the similarities between the two to be exaggerated.”
“I’m afraid people will think I was merely rewriting history and camouflaging it as fiction.”
“Well, obviously you drew on your experiences in a small town with your heroine but I never actually thought the story was based on real life.”
Clare swallowed hard, resisting the urge to admit that one or two incidents had actually occurred. “Plus the death in my novel wasn’t a murder.”
“Exactly. I thought Withers was stretching it to focus on the Rina Thomas murder the way he did. Anyway, it happened so long ago I doubt a lot of readers even know about the case.”
“Unfortunately, they do now.” Clare sighed.
“Don’t let people like Withers get to you, Clare. As I said, he was more interested in producing a bit of sensationalism than in giving an honest review.”
“Thanks for that. And thanks, too, for the opportunity this morning. It’s been a while since I faced a group of teenagers in a classroom.”
“Your teacher training was very evident, believe me,” Lisa said. “I’ve encouraged some of the kids to read the book for their novel study this term.”
Clare slipped on her coat, picked up the canvas book bag and her purse and walked with Lisa to the door. There, she impulsively hugged her. “Thanks again, Lisa. For everything.”
She hastened along the corridor to the exit nearest the parking lot. Her low heels clipped along the tile floor, echoing in the muted quiet as classes droned on behind closed doors. She had a sudden flash to another day when she had rushed along this same hall, eager to meet Gil on the playing field after his baseball practice.
She reached the exit and pushed down on the bar of the door, stepping outside. The field stretched ahead of her. It looked the same, she noted, though was now enhanced by tiers of bleachers for spectators.
Clare stared at it, remembering with sudden, vivid clarity the sight of Gil Harper embracing Rina Thomas out there. She had stared in disbelief from the very place where she was now poised, watching Gil and Rina walk arm in arm toward the ravine and the shortcut to the footbridge spanning the river. It was the last time she ever saw Rina Thomas.
Clare took a shaky breath. Relax, Clare. It’s all over and done with. And in a few minutes, you’re out of here.
She rounded the corner of the school to the parking lot, just as she had that day, only this time tears weren’t blinding her way. Striding to her car, she determined to put as much distance between the past and the present as quickly as possible. By the time she reached the sprawling outskirts of Hartford, Clare was thinking only of her book signing.
She parked in the lane behind the store, which was tucked into a beautifully renovated section of the old town. Clare took the canvas bag with some promotional bookmarks and posters and hoped that the shipment of books her publisher had ordered for the event had arrived. A clerk on standby at the rear of the building opened the door for her, greeting her enthusiastically.
There was already a small crowd milling about, in spite of the fact that it was a Monday. The manager took her coat, brought her coffee and a bottle of water, and ushered her to a solid and comfortable armchair behind the table. By the time Clare began, asking the name of the first person in line, she’d already pushed from her mind the morning visit to Twin Falls High.
This was the part of her new role in life that she loved—chatting to ordinary people who not only liked to read, but who liked to read her books. She still had difficulty accepting the idea that complete strangers would want to read something she wrote. She was sipping the last of her coffee when a man’s voice caught her attention and she looked up over the rim of her cup.
“Mr. Wolochuk?” she asked, squinting at the man in front of the table.
He gave a quick nod. “Nice to see you, Clare. And nice to see you remember me.”
“Of course I do. I—I struggled through your chemistry class in senior year.”
His tentative smile revealed an uneven set of tobacco-stained teeth. The years had obviously not been kind to Stanley Wolochuk, Clare thought. Stoop-shouldered with limp, graying hair, he looked close to retirement, although Clare guessed he must only be in his early fifties.
“If I recall correctly, you passed my course. And it appears you’ve gone on to bigger and better things.” He gestured to the stack of books on the table.
“I’ve been very lucky,” she said, knowing luck had been a small part of the process.
“Well…uh…when I saw the notice in the paper here about the signing, I thought I should come and say hello. And buy a book, too,” he added with a strained laugh. His long, sallow face creased into deep ridges. He nudged a copy of her novel toward her.
Clare flipped to the title page, her mind racing for an appropriate inscription. It was so much easier to write something innocuous to a stranger. Acquaintances and friends demanded more personal attention. She felt his eyes on her while she lowered her head to write. Scrawling something about having more success at writing than chemistry, she flipped over the cover when she’d finished.
“So are you still teaching, Mr. Wolochuk?”
“No, had to go on disability a few years ago.” He paused. “Heart condition.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Clare didn’t know what more to say. There was only one woman left in line behind him and she was thumbing through a book, apparently in no hurry. “I did a signing in Twin Falls yesterday,” she said, “and this morning, I paid a visit to the high school. Lisa Stuart asked me to speak to her senior English class.”
His eyes narrowed with interest. “Oh? How did that go?”
“Very well, or so Lisa assured me. Lots of questions from the kids at the end, which is always a good sign. Though most of them had to do with the money and fame aspects of publishing.”
“And…uh…” he paused, noisily clearing his throat, “did you have a chance to see any of your old friends?”
“One or two,” she said, keeping vague in order to cut short the conversation. The woman still in line was now looking up.
But Mr. Wolochuk seemed in no hurry. “Were you in town long?”
Clare shook her head. “Just for the weekend. Are you still living there?”
A flicker of some emotion Clare couldn’t read crossed his face. After a moment, he said, “No. Left there quite a while ago. I live here now.”
“Oh.” Clare saw the woman check her watch. “Well, it was very nice to see you again, Mr. Wolochuk, and thank you for buying my book.”
He gave a slight nod but stayed rooted in place. The woman behind him coughed and Wolochuk suddenly woke up to the fact that someone was waiting. He picked up the book and moved aside for the woman.
Clare smiled at her next customer and, just before inquiring about a name, glanced at Mr. Wolochuk. “Thanks again,” she said brightly.
“Yes. Goodbye then, and good luck.” He turned and walked away.
When Clare raised her head again, she caught a glimpse of the back of his faded denim jacket as he went out the front door. She saw him hesitate briefly on the sidewalk, as if he were thinking about coming back inside. Then he resumed walking and disappeared from view.
Clare blew a sigh of relief. Two former teachers in one day and both so very different. She’d always thought her chemistry teacher to be a bit odd. Now he seemed almost sad, as if life had been sucked right out of him.
Clare was packing her things when the store clerk rushed over to say there was an urgent phone call for her. “You can take it in the manager’s office,” the clerk was saying as she led the way.
Thoughts of who it could be flooded Clare’s mind—her mother, her agent? The one voice she wasn’t expecting to hear on the other end of the line was Laura’s.
CHAPTER FIVE
“CLARE! I’m so sorry to interrupt your signing but something has happened.”
“Laura! You sound terrible! What is it? What’s happened? Not Emma?”
“No, not Emma, thank God. It’s Dave. He was up on the roof this morning cleaning out the eavestrough and he fell off the ladder.”
“Oh, no! Is he okay?”
“He’s in surgery. A compound leg fracture.”
“God, that sounds horrible.”
“It could have been worse. The doctor says he’s a lucky man. But…but the thing is, Clare…” Laura’s voice wobbled and suddenly broke off.
Clare could hear her breathing heavily on the other end, trying to compose herself. “It’s all right, Laura. Take your time.”
“He has to be in hospital for at least a few more days and then when he comes home, he’ll be off work for a while longer. And the thing is, I just can’t manage on my own. I know I should be able to, but Emma’s still getting up at night and I haven’t had a full night’s sleep since she was born.”
Clare ignored the faint alarm bell going off in her head. Laura was calling for advice. That was all. “Well, isn’t there someone who can help out? Your parents or Dave’s?”
“Mine have already left for Florida, remember? And I hate to call them back. Dave’s mother’s in a nursing home and his older sister has her own problems.” There was a frustrated sigh. “The only friends I have here are all working, including Anne-Marie. There’s no one.” Her voice pitched in despair.
Clare’s hand tightened on the receiver. She sensed what was coming.
“Could you…I mean, this is a horrible thing to have to ask but I was wondering if you could come back and stay with me? Just for a couple of days while I try to find someone in town. You said you had a gap in your book tour, didn’t you?”
Clare closed her eyes, her imagined fear now out in the open. “Laura, I—I don’t think I’d be any help to you at all. I mean, I don’t know a thing about babies.”
“I just need someone to watch her while I go back and forth to the hospital. You know—well, I guess you don’t—but it’s so hard to pack up a baby and take her everywhere. Her schedule will be completely thrown off. Besides, I don’t know if they’d even let babies onto Dave’s ward.” She paused to catch her breath. “The other thing is, I just need another person around. I don’t know if it’s the hormones or what, but I can’t stand being alone.”
The rush of words told Clare that Laura was in no shape to take charge of the situation. “Okay, Laura. I’m finished here and I suppose I can afford a couple of days.”
“Oh, Clare, thank you so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I’ve been frantic here.”
Clare had a feeling that in other circumstances, her normally take-charge friend would have managed quite well. But perhaps the undercurrent of tension she’d picked up between Dave and Laura over the weekend was a sign of things not being normal in the Kingsway household. Whatever the reason, Clare knew she couldn’t refuse. She hung up the phone and stood for a long moment, thinking about the commitment she’d just made.
Rearranging her book tour wouldn’t be a problem. Her next signing wasn’t until the end of the month. Still, staying on longer in Twin Falls meant postponing following up on her recent book proposal with her editor. She’d submitted it just before leaving for Twin Falls and was looking forward to getting back to work on the project. But the note of desperation in Laura’s voice was impossible to ignore. Her friend needed her. The Dundas family had been there for Clare years ago, and now she had the opportunity to repay that debt. If she had any luck left at all—and she was starting to wonder about that—she’d be able to put in her two or three days and leave again without having to bump into Gil.
An hour and a half later, when the front door of the Kingsway home flew open at her knock, she knew luck had deserted her.
“Clare!”
“Gil. What are you doing here?”
“You heard about Dave?”
“Laura called me at the bookstore. Where I was signing,” she explained at the confusion in his face. It wasn’t only his unshaven face that added to his disheveled appearance, she was thinking. He was wearing jeans and a dark green plaid flannel shirt, tails out and unbuttoned to reveal a white T-shirt. His hair looked as though someone had been running fingers through it. Under any other circumstances, Clare might have thought there was a woman inside with him. But a sudden sharp wail from deep within the house told her the only female on the premises was baby Emma. A very unhappy baby Emma.
Clare brushed past Gil and stepped inside. “Is Laura home yet?”
“Still at the hospital. But she called a few minutes ago to say she’d be home in an hour or so.”
Thank heavens. “Did she call you to come over after it happened?”
He nodded. “I was cleaning out my dad’s garage at the time. The baby was asleep when I got here so I told Laura to go with Dave.”
Another long wail. His head jerked up, toward the stairs. “I think she’s awake now.”
“Sounds like it,” Clare said. “Maybe you should go get her.”
“Me?”
She smiled at the incredulity in his voice. “Aren’t you the baby-sitter?”
“Well, uh, isn’t that what you’re here for?” When she failed to reply, he said, “Then I’ll leave you to it,” and made for the door.
“Wait! You can’t leave yet.”
“I’ve an appointment in half an hour with a real-estate agent at my dad’s place. I was about to call and cancel, but fortunately for me, you arrived in time.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.