Little Death by the Sea (29 page)

“And what do you call Brownie?” Elspeth
pushed her fruit plate away and stared at him.

“I’m not saying anything against Brownie.
Personally, I always liked the boy. But he wasn’t right for our
Maggie and I wouldn’t have liked to have seen them get
together.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying this. Brownie
comes from the finest family—“

“I’m not saying he doesn’t.”

“He adores Maggie.” Elspeth looked around the
room in agitation. “He...he has practically grown up with
her...”

“I’m not sure what kind of a recommendation
that is. All I’m saying is the girl doesn’t love him and I don’t
blame her. Nice chap, but I’ll pass on the son-in-law part, if you
don’t mind.”

“I cannot believe you are saying this,” she
repeated. “And you’d rather have this...Laurent Dernier, instead, I
suppose?”

“I would.”

“He doesn’t have a job! He barely speaks
English—“

“Maggie understands him. Come to that, you
have no trouble understanding him either.”

“I’m not against Laurent.” Elspeth stood up
from the table, her gold bracelets jangling softly as she did so.
“But I think to compare him to Brownie is preposterous.”

“I quite agree,” John said quietly.

“You know what I mean, John. I cannot
understand that this is what you would want for your daughter. An
unemployed foreigner. Yes, charming, even, handsome, but marriage
material for Margaret? Honestly.” With that, she turned to make an
elegant exit in complete possession of the last word.

John Newberry replaced his napkin and
finished his coffee. He grimaced and added more milk to the cup.
Idly, he flipped the paper to the sports section and got up to find
a small sausage on the quickly-cooling buffet table.

3

“They’re expecting us there around six, I
think.” Maggie juggled the phone receiver against her chin and
flipped through her work diary on her desk.

“I will get the
cadeau
,” Laurent said
on the other end of the phone line.

“
Cadeau
? Oh, yeah, right, Nicole’s
birthday present. That’d be great if you would, sweetheart. I’m not
going to have time today.”

“You have seen the paper this morning?”

“I saw it. I think it’s crap, but I saw
it.”

“
Peut-être
we will not think about it
for a few hours? Put it away for a little bit?”

“Yeah, I’m not thinking about it. It doesn’t
matter anyway.”

“
Je t’aime, cherie. Est-ce que tu
m’aime?”

“With all my heart, you big mush,” Maggie
said softly. “And you know it very, very well.”

“
Mais, bien sûr
,” he said before
hanging up.

4

Laurent smoothed his shaggy brown hair from
his forehead and kept his eyes fixed on Nicole Newberry. She sat,
stiffly, a starched white petticoat peeking from under her velvet
tunic. Her hair, shiny and soft with a simple wave Elspeth had put
in it, was caught up by a long blue velvet ribbon which draped down
her back in a demure ponytail. Her eyes were flat and stared
unseeingly at her mirror-bright black patent leather shoes.

“Nicole is
sex ans
today,
oui, ma
petite
?” Laurent sang softly to the little girl. He lifted her
chin and smiled encouragingly at her. “A big girl now, is our
Nicole.” She stared dully into his bright blue eyes.

“She’s a little tired tonight, Laurent dear,”
Elspeth said as she straightened the candles on the dining room
table. Laurent and the child were seated in chairs lined against
the far wall. The butler’s table with Nicole’s birthday cake, a
sugar castle of icing and roses, was placed next to them, and
Elspeth thought, suddenly, that it made a winsome picture. “A Kodak
moment,” as her irreverent daughter would say. All the same,
Elspeth wished she had a photograph of the scene. She even wished
she were the kind of person who could snatch up a camera and
capture the image herself.

“We’ve been shopping today and visiting
people and wrapping prezzies and helping Becka in the kitchen...all
kinds of things, haven’t we, darling?” Elspeth didn’t look at
Nicole when she spoke, just continued to straighten and re-position
the immaculately set dining table of crystal and china. The table
was set for five although Elspeth had been tempted to add another
plate for the one person who would never show.

“Oh, that is
formidable
,” Laurent
murmured to the girl. “You have been getting many beautiful things
today, yes?”

Elspeth felt a budding annoyance with
Laurent. She didn’t want the child picking up his crippled
pronunciations although she knew that Maggie would say that should
be the least of her worries. Nonetheless, she would have preferred
the man to either speak French to Nicole—and she certainly
disapproved of that at this point—or to keep communication to a
minimum. She felt a pulse of guilt at this thought. Laurent was
kind to the child, gave her, in fact, more attention than her own
aunt. She sighed and looked at them both. Nothing was turning out
the way she had planned.

“Dad’s got the drinks and stuff in the
library, Mother. Is that okay?” Maggie appeared through the
swinging doors that led to the kitchen, carrying a frosty highball
glass.

“That will be fine, dear,” she said.

“How are you two doing?” Maggie walked over
and sat down next to Nicole. “Happy Birthday, darling.” The child
continued to stare at Laurent.

“Do you need any help, Mom?”

“No, I think we’re about ready.” Elspeth
stood back and surveyed the perfect table.

The doorbell rang and Maggie put her drink
down.

“I’ll get it,” she said.

Brownie stood on the other side of the
Newberry threshold, dressed in a natty sports jacket and
razor-pleated trousers.

“Brownie—“

“I can’t come in. I just stopped by to give
you this to give to Nicole.” He pushed a stuffed giraffe into
Maggie’s hands. “So tell her ‘happy birthday from Uncle Brownie’.
That is, unless you’ve already told her I’ve died or something and,
in that case, forget it.”

“Don’t be an ass. Why don’t you come in and
give it to her yourself?”

“Can’t. Got someone waiting in the car. And
this is for you.”

Maggie tried not to look towards the darkened
interior of Brownie’s BMW, its engine still running, parked in the
circular drive.

He pressed something cold and hard into her
hand. “It’s what I told you I found in your—“

“Oh, yeah, okay. What is it?” She looked at
the strange, circular piece of jewelry for a minute.

“You’re asking me? Look, I gotta run. Tell
Nicole—“

“It’s a scarf ring, is what it is,” Maggie
said. “This looks like one of my Mother’s.”

“Mystery solved. Great. Later, Mags.”

He turned and hurried down the wide flagstone
steps of the mansion’s verandah.

“Yeah, Brownie, thanks. Thanks from Nicole
too.”

Maggie watched as he opened his car door,
illuminating the car’s interior. The girl waiting for him was young
and pretty.

Maggie dropped the scarf ring into her purse
on the foyer marble-top table and returned to the birthday
gathering.

“Who was it, darling?” Elspeth was still
retouching the flawless place settings.

“Just Brownie. He brought this for Nicole.”
She waved the giraffe at Nicole and smiled. The child looked at
it.

Maggie took a quick sip of her drink and
offered it to Laurent who shook his head.

“She is very beautiful tonight, is she not,
Maggie?” he said.

“Oh, yes,” Maggie plucked at Nicole’s dress
with her hand. “Very pretty, Nicole.
Très jolie
!” She turned
to her mother. “What else did you get her?”

“That would be telling, darling. We don’t
want to spoil Nicole’s surprises.”

A loud crash sounded from the other side of
the swinging doors and, Elspeth sprang into action.

“What is the woman doing?” she said as she
hurried into the kitchen. Maggie noted the sense of satisfaction
apparent in her mother’s voice.

Maggie took another long drink and listened
as the ice cubes fell musically back into the half-empty glass.

“I can’t believe you’re going to do this.”
She gestured to Nicole with her glass.

“Your father said it would be all right,”
Laurent said. He was watching Nicole closely, fondly. Maggie knew
the child had become special to him in a way the Newberry family
hadn’t expected. It was as if there was an already existing kinship
between them—their both being French? Maggie wondered—that Laurent
took care to fan and tend.

“Yeah,” she said to him. “But Dad told you
that without checking with my mother. She will freak.”

“I don’t think so.” Laurent leaned back in
his chair and Nicole dropped her eyes again to her knees. “In
fact....” he stood up and placed his hands on his hips. “Now is a
good time,
n’est-ce pas
?”

“Oh, Laurent, are you sure?” Maggie couldn’t
help grinning. This gift of Laurent’s really was a disastrous idea.
“I think we should warn my mother first,” she repeated. She was
finding herself interested, even eager, in an impish way, to see
her mother’s reaction to Laurent’s surprise.

“Your father is the man of the house, is he
not? He is the
Papa
?”

“Yes, yes, all that. But the
Maman
will freak, all the same.”

“
Pfut
!” Laurent waved away her comment
with his hand and gave Nicole a quick kiss on the top of her
head.

“
Une moment, cherie
,” he said to the
child. “
Oncle
Laurent will be right back with a wonderful
birthday present!” With that, he turned and exited the room. Nicole
let out a long sigh that surprised Maggie.

“Hard day, huh?” she said with a smile,
reaching for the child’s small, cool hand.

Elspeth returned with Maggie’s father in tow,
a large drink in each of his hands.

“Hello again, Daughter,” John Newberry said
jovially. “Refresh that drink for you?”

“John,” Elspeth said firmly, her eyebrows
arched. She was all-business tonight, Maggie noticed. This was
clearly to be another family occasion whipped into shape, marched
out in front of the video cameras and Kodaks and made to form into
a proper memory of the moment. Like the rest of the family,
Maggie’s father had long ago learned not to resist Elspeth’s
determination to manufacture life as it should be—life as it damned
well would be. He just drank a little more.

Elspeth looked at Maggie. “Where’s Laurent?”
she asked.

“He had to go get something. Well, our
birthday present for Nicole, actually,” Maggie said cheerfully.

“Ahhh, yes!” Her father set down one of the
glasses and took a healthy sip from the other. “The famous birthday
present. Meanwhile, tell us about your upcoming trip.”

“Well...” Maggie hesitated briefly. She
crossed her ankles and straightened out the neckline of her knit
dress, it was a deep blue and, she knew, offset her dark hair
nicely. “Laurent takes me to the airport tomorrow morning,” she
said. “I’m supposed to be gone about a week, I guess. But if I find
anything, I might stay longer.”

“And Gerry doesn’t mind, dear?” Her mother
moved an errant, silver fork on the dinner table to its proper
place next to a plate.

“Not really. He’s so wrapped up in his own
plans to bolt the country that he really can’t be bothered. I mean,
I think he’s sympathetic and all...” She shook her head. “but my
not being here is way down his list of priorities.”

“What’s wrong with him?” her father
asked.

“He’s going through a bad stage, Dad. He’s
worried to death about his family’s safety with all the crime in
town. This thing with Elise was actually the trigger.”

“I can certainly understand that,” Elspeth
said.

“—and taking over the company was more... I
don’t know ...stressful...than he thought it would be.”

“And he’s moving out of the country as a
result?” Her father sounded incredulous.

Maggie nodded. “New Zealand,” she said. “In
late November. About six weeks from now.”

“How does his wife feel about all this?
What’s her name?” Elspeth settled into the chair abandoned by
Laurent. She took the girl’s hand in her own and held it on her
knee.

“Her name’s Darla. Not great. How would you
feel? I mean, Darla’s not the one coming unglued. She doesn’t want
to leave.”

“Poor man. I don’t suppose he’d consider some
kind of therapy?” Her father looked genuinely concerned and Maggie
felt a sudden rush of love for him.

“He thinks this is therapy, Dad,” she said.
“He thinks it’s the epitome of mental health to be doing this.”

“Poor lad.” He shook his head.

Suddenly, Maggie’s mother gave a small shriek
and jumped up, dropping Nicole’s hand. Maggie, sitting on the other
side of Nicole, jumped up too, although she didn’t know why. Her
first thought was, bizarrely, that her mother had seen a snake
curled up under the child’s chair.

“What is it? What is it?” Maggie moved away
from Nicole, totally bewildered. “What’s happening?”

“Nicole!” Elspeth took Nicole by her thin
shoulders and forced the child to look at her. Only then did Maggie
see the puddle of yellow pooling under Nicole’s antique wicker
chair.

“Oh, dear,” Maggie said, looking at her
father with dismay.

“Nicole, honey, are you all right---?” her
mother asked.

Suddenly, Nicole jumped up and wrestled free
of Elspeth’s grip.

“
Laissez-moi tranquille! Laissez-moi
tranquille
!” she shrieked, running from the room. Her voice,
bleating and frantic, echoed through the house, room by room, until
they heard the distant slamming of her bedroom door.

Elspeth sat, twisted around in her chair
facing Nicole’s exit route, her hands still in the air and her
delicate mouth open in a caricature of astonishment.