Embers (72 page)

Helen took the girl by the hand and led her to a small camelback sofa opposite the piano, glancing at the entrance to the room as they passed it.

The nanny took the hint.
"
I
'
m sorry for the delay,
"
she said at once.
"
I
'
ll just go see—
"

She never got to finish the sentence. A man
'
s voice— loud and urgent and somehow ghastly—cried out from a floor above them,
"
Peaches! For God
'
s sake, up here!
"

Chapter 2

The
nanny threw down the words
"
Excuse me
"
like a discarded tissue and rushed from the music room, leaving Helen alone with the child.

Whatever had happened wasn
'
t good, but Helen knew better than to let a child see that she was upset. In her calmest, friendliest voice she said,
"
Now. I was wondering what
...
hmmm
...
this is,
"
she said, pointing to one of several brown cigars. She was surprised to see that her hand was shaking as she did it.

Katherine, unhooking her forefinger from her lower lip, gestured in a squiggly circle that took in all the cigars at once and said,
"
That
'
s Daddy
'
s plane. And this is his other plane,
"
she said, pointing to a blue scribble in one corner.
"
Only I coulddent fit it.
"

"
And this?
"

"
This is fog. Daddy doesn
'
t like fog because he can
'
t fly his plane. But I like it,
"
she added in a hushed voice.
"
Because, well, I like it.
"
It seemed reason enough.

"
And this?
"

The child
'
s blue eyes crinkled above a smile.
"
That
'
s Polly Panda,
"
she said, slapping the heels of her hands on the edge of the sofa cushion.
"
Daddy bringed Polly Panda on the plane. She sat in a seat. Mommy was mad.
"

Helen decided not to follow up on that one, so she asked Katie to show her some more of her work.

It was a hard slog. Katie, true to the artist
'
s temperament, had no desire to explain every last smudge, especially in the more abstract pieces. She began to fidget and demanded to know where Peaches was.

Good question,
thought Helen. Really, it was shaping up to be an extraordinary interview, with one odd surprise after another. From the owl to the real Peaches to the elusive Linda Byrne, Helen had been kept continuously off balance. She didn
'
t like it at all.

She
'
d managed to get Katie working on another creation—though it was clear that the muse had flown—when Peaches suddenly reappeared.

The woman
'
s face was as white as a new porcelain sink. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her nose still runny; clearly she
'
d been crying. She forced a pale echo of her earlier smile and said,
"
I really am sorry
...
but something
'
s come up. I
'
m afraid we
'
ll have to end the interview here. I
'
m—
"

She looked around the room blankly.
"
Did you bring a coat?
"
she asked in a dazed voice.

It was Helen
'
s turn to sound blank.
"
I left it in my car,
"
she said automatically
.

"
Oh
...
of course. Well.
I—someone will be in touch, then. Thank you so much for coming.
"

And that was it. Helen was given the bum
'
s rush out the door.

She stood beside her car, keys in hand, staring at the imposing brick house with its shuttered air of disdain, and thought,
What the
hell
was going on in there?

A car or two passed on the street. Bankers and lawyers were coming home to their suppers. Helen roused herself and stuck the key in the lock of her door, all too aware that her kids would be clamoring for their own meal. A light snow was beginning to fall. More snow, more March, more waiting.

Somehow the int
erview seemed to fit right in.

****

By the time Peaches hurried back from seeing Helen to the door, Katie had climbed halfway up the unbarred stairs. The nanny raced to intercept her.

"
I wanna go by Mommy,
"
the child said, trying to wriggle out of her nanny
'
s grasp.

"
You can
'
t right now, honey,
"
said Peaches, carrying her quickly up the rest of the stairs. The stairs wound another flight to the nurse
ry around the massive center hal
l, itself highlighted by a large crystal chandelier that hung from the third floor ceiling. Peaches made sure the child
'
s face was to the wall, away from the open hall—the heart of the house onto which all the rooms opened.
"
You know how it is when Mommy has a headache.
"

"
I
don
'
t
know,
"
Katherine said, frustrated and impatient.
"
I don
'
t I don
'
t I don
'
t. I want to see her now.
"

In the distance Peaches heard the sound of sirens. Her heart lurched in her breast; by sheer force of her will, she made it return to a steady, untroubled beat.

"
You can
'
t see her now, Katie,
"
she said evenly.
Not now. Not ever.

****

Helen ended up waiting a week for the call. More than once, she
'
d considered calling Linda Byrne herself; but after all her assurances that there was no urgency, she couldn
'
t quite justify picking up the phone.

Besides, it had been a godawful week: A nasty strain of flu was making the rounds, and kids and staff were dropping like flies. Helen had been one of the few left standing, despite a brutal week-long sinus headache.

But Friday had come at last, and Helen was able, finally, to collapse on the sofa with an ice pack on her head. She was dressed in comforting sweat clothes, gazing listlessly through the wood blinds at the last of a bloodred sky and wondering whether she should close the school for a few days, when the phone rang.

"
Russ, answer that, would you?
"
she begged.

She heard his grudging
"
H
'
lo
" on the hal
l phone, followed by an assortment of monosyllables:
"Yeah ... no ... 'k
ay
...
no
...
I
'
ll tell her
...
bye.
"

Russ hung up and came into the family room, which was identical in size to the sitting room on the opposite side of the hall but upholstered in more rugged fabrics. He was buried under fourteen layers of plaid, dressed to go out.

"
So? Who was it?
"

"
Some woman with a weird name,
"
he answered.
"
She said some kid won
'
t be signing up for preschool that you thought was going to.
"

"
I don
'
t suppose you
'
d happen to remember the child
'
s name either,
"
Helen said dryly.

"
Yeah
...
that one wasn
'
t weird
. 
Katherine, that
'
s it!
"
Russ said, lighting up in the kind of endearing grin that Helen so rarely saw anymore.

"
Oh-h
...
Katherine Byrne. So it must
'
ve been Peaches Bartholemew who called? Well, that
'
s too bad. Katherine
'
s a sweetie.
"
The sadness lingered in Helen
'
s voice as she said to her son,
"
Going out?
"

"
Yeah. Over to Mickey
'
s house. Him and Scott and me were thinking of going to a movie. Um
...
could I have
ten
dollars?
"

"
He and Scott and I. You spent your allowance?
"

"
Yeah.
"

It wasn
'
t all that easy to do, since Russ had had to stay home the previous weekend. Because of the grounding— not despite it—Helen decided to give him the money.
"
Hand me my purse,
"
she said, sighing.

She fished out a bill from her wallet and gave it to him.
"
I want you home by nine-fifteen.
"

"
Ma-a!
"

"
Nine. Fifteen.
"

"
That doesn
'
t even leave time for a Coke!
"

"
The fridge is full of Coke. Have your friends over after the show. I
'
ll be glad to drive them home.
"

He shrugged, which under the circumstances meant,
"
Naturally you must be insane,
"
and took off.

Broke again.
Russ was always out of money, which was a good-news, bad-news thing for a worrier like Helen. The good news was, he couldn
'
t be dealing drugs. The bad news was, she couldn
'
t be sure he wasn
'
t using them.

Don
'
t be dumb. Y
ou know the telltale signs; you'v
e memorized them from the public-service ads. Russell Evett is not on drugs. He wouldn
'
t betray his father
'
s memory that way.

Before she could run through the litany of symptoms again, she heard the front door slam. Russell had come back.

He poked his head into the family room.
"
I forgot. She said someone died.
"

Helen whipped the ice bag from her head and bolted up.
"
Died?
Who?
"

Russ frowned in concentration.
"
I forget.
"

"
Not—
"
But she knew the answer would be yes before she said the name.
"
Not Linda Byrne,
"
she said softly.

"
Yeah. That was it. Bye.
"
He pivoted on one Nike.

"
Hold
it. Miss Bartholemew didn
'
t say anything more than that? What exactly did she say? Think.
"

This was an utterly pointless demand, similar to many Helen had made of her son. He shrugged and said,
"
I dunno,
"
with a hapless look.
"
She died. That
'
s all. Or maybe she didn
'
t say
'
died.
'
Maybe she said
'
death.
'
I
'
m not sure.
"