The woman waited a moment, then threw her head back and laughed heartily, as though they were at a picture show together and the leading man just cracked a good joke. Audrey glanced back at the cell door, afraid a guard would come tell them off, or worse.
“What’s your name?” Audrey asked.
The woman stepped toward her. She wore her confidence with poise, draped around her shoulders like a glossy fox fur.
“I am Wendelein Von Albrecht,” she said, extending her hand. “From Enschede. I believe you were meant to be my houseguest.”
Chapter 34
Kate
ALNWICK, ENGLAND | DECEMBER 2010
Kate is taking Audrey to an office just off the high street, on the second floor above a small charity shop. The brass plaque on the brick wall next to the door reads JOHN MACGREGOR, ESTATE SOLICITOR. Audrey has her cane, but Kate still helps her up the narrow stairs and down a stuffy carpeted hallway that seems to absorb all sound.
Audrey’s moving particularly slowly today. It took a toll on her to recount the moment the Gestapo finally arrived on the Kaplans’ doorstep, and her fatigue has lingered. That was, Kate sadly assumed, also the last time she ever saw Ilse. The interrogation that destroyed her fingers had clearly left its mark on her soul as well as her hands.
“Did it prevent you from playing again?” Kate had asked gently.
Audrey looked down at her fingers, eyes glinting with anger. “Oh yes. It certainly did.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. But others fared far worse. This was a small price to pay.”
“Are you sure this isn’t too much to talk about, so soon after your… episode?” Kate had asked.
“There’s no such thing as too soon at this point, dear. We don’t know how much more time we have for me to get it all out.” Audrey had been quiet for a moment then. “It’s funny,” she said, with an expression that suggested it was anything but. “I’ve been living on borrowed time for so long, yet right now, I feel a surprising need to borrow just a little bit more.”
Kate did her best not to flinch at the mention of Audrey’s impending death, tried to follow her lead and focus on the time still remaining, how best to spend it. She hasn’t wanted to ask what happens next, after Audrey dies. She assumes the Oakwood will be sold off, which may well be the topic of Audrey’s appointment with her solicitor today.
As they enter the office, memories of the aftermath of Kate’s parents’ deaths come flooding back: meeting with their lawyer, signing piles of documents she didn’t even read or understand whilst Adam sat in the chair beside her, asking questions she can’t recall now. She tries to ignore the palpitations.
After she gets Audrey settled in the tiny waiting area, Audrey pats her arm affectionately. “Good luck, dear. If you can’t knock some sense into that boy, then I shall.”
Kate’s plan is to try to find Ian whilst she waits for Audrey to finish her appointment. If this were Adam, her previous life, she would have gotten herself all dolled up for such a gesture, to look as appealing and polished as possible. But this is Ian, and she’s hardly worn makeup since she arrived here. She’s not hiding anything anymore, so she goes fresh-faced.
She thought of calling to set up a time, but she wasn’t sure he would pick up. She tries his flat first. No one answers. She chews her cheek, then goes to the bookshop.
The fireplaces are all lit, as usual, and Kate shivers with comfort at the blast of warm air as she enters, the heavy door swinging shut behind her. Ian’s not at the cash desk, so she looks through the aisles of books, but doesn’t find him lurking anywhere or helping a patron either. She heads to the café, orders a hazelnut latte, and settles herself at the table she and Ian usually share, when it’s available, in a corner by the fireplace. As she sips her drink, her mind wanders back to happier days.
She finishes her coffee and is rising to leave when she hears Ian’s voice, laughing with Charlene, today’s barista. A sense of kismet settles on her, and she wonders for a moment whether they were meant to meet here today, to work things out. But the thought is instantly interrupted by Audrey’s voice, telling her that everything in life is nothing more or less than random chance. He works here. He happened to be working today.
It’s just good luck for a change.
She wrestles the butterflies as she waits for him to come around the corner, which he does a moment later, heading for their usual table, just like Kate did. He stops in his tracks, jacket in one hand, coffee in the other, and they stare at one another. She steps toward him.
“Ian,” she begins.
He shakes his head, but he doesn’t walk away.
“Have you been waiting for me to get off work?”
“No. I couldn’t find you, actually. And I wanted a coffee.”
“At our table?”
“Yes.” She pauses, licks her lips. “I’m sorry, Ian. I’m so sorry. There’s a lot I need to tell you.”
He takes a seat, and she sits as well, feeling a measure of hope.
He meets her eyes square-on. “Why now? You seemed fine lying about it for long enough.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“Of course I do.”
“Then why did you do it, Kate?” He glances over his shoulder, but the nearest patrons are several tables away. “You know, I thought we had something special. Unless you want to explain why you lied, there’s no chance for this. For us. I told you about my ex, what she did—”
“I know. But you could have waited for me to explain yesterday. I called after you.”
He shifts in his seat, heaves a sigh.
“Give me something real, Kate. Something that isn’t a lie.”
