Chapter Thirty-Three

“we should get back to the house now,” Elizabeth said, jumping up

from the bench.

“Why?”

“Because it’s starting to rain,” she said, looking at him as though he had ten heads, and flinching as another droplet of rain landed on her face.

“What is it with you?” Ivan laughed, settling down into the bench as a

sign he wasn’t budging. “Why is it you’re always dashing in and out of cars and buildings when it rains?”

“Because I don’t want to get wet. Come on!” She looked to the safety of the trees longingly.

“Why don’t you like getting wet? All it does is dry.”

“Because.” She grabbed him by the hand and attempted to pull him off

the bench. She stamped her foot in frustration when she couldn’t move

him, like a child who couldn’t get her way.

“Because why?”

“I don’t know.” She swallowed hard and looked away. “I’ve just never

liked rain. Do you have to know all my little problems?” She held her hands over her head to stop the feeling of the rain falling on her.

“There’s a reason for everything, Elizabeth,” he said, holding out his

hands and catching the raindrops in the palms of his hands.

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“Well, my reason is simple, in keeping with our earlier conversation,

rain complicates things. It makes your clothes wet, is uncomfortable, and ultimately gives you a cold.”

Ivan made a game-show noise, signaling a wrong answer. “The rain

doesn’t give you a cold. The cold gives you a cold. This is a sun shower and it’s warm.” He held back his head, opened his mouth, and allowed the raindrops to fall in. “Yep, warm and tasty. And you weren’t telling me the truth, by the way.”

“What?!” she shrilled.

“I read between the lines, hear between the words, and know when a

full stop is not a full stop, but more like a but,” he sang.

Elizabeth groaned and stood with her arms wrapped around herself

protectively and with her shoulders hunched as though sticky gunge were being thrown over her.

“It’s only rain, Elizabeth, look around.” He waved his hands wildly.

“Do you see anybody else here running?”

“There is nobody else!”

“Au contraire! The lake, the trees, the heron, and the salmon, all get-

ting soaked.” He threw his head back and continued tasting the rain.

Before Elizabeth headed to the trees, she gave one last lecture. “Be

careful of that rain, Ivan, it’s not a good idea to drink it.”

“Why?”

“Because it could be dangerous. Do you know what effect carbon

monoxide has on the air and the rain? It could be acidic.”

Ivan slid off the bench while holding his throat and pretended to

choke. He crawled to the edge of the lake. Elizabeth’s eyes followed him but she continued lecturing him.

He dipped his hand into the lake. “Well, there’s no fatal contaminations in this, is there?” He scooped out a handful of water and threw it at her.

Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened with shock as she stood

there with water dripping from her nose. She held her arm out and pushed him roughly into the lake, laughing as he disappeared under the water.

She stopped laughing when he didn’t reappear.

She began to get worried and stepped toward the edge. The only

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movement was the ripples caused by the heavy raindrops landing on the

calm lake. The cold drops on her face no longer bothered her. A minute

went by.

“Ivan?” she said shakily, “Ivan, stop playing, come out now.” She

leaned over further to see if she could see him.

She sang nervously to herself and counted to ten. Nobody could hold

their breath for that long.

The glassy surface broke and a rocket shot out of the water. “Water

fight!” Ivan grabbed her by the hands and pulled her headfirst into the lake.

Elizabeth was so relieved not to have killed him she didn’t even mind when the cool water hit her face.

“Good morning, Mr. O’Callaghan; morning, Maureen; hello, Fidelma; hi,

Connor; Father Murphy.” She nodded sternly to her fellow villagers as she walked through the sleepy town. Silent, stunned stares followed her as her runners squelched beneath her and her clothes dripped.

“That’s a good look for you.” Benjamin laughed, holding up a cup of

coffee to her while he stood beside a small crowd of tourists who were dancing, laughing, and sprinkling coffee on the pavement outside Joe’s.

“Thank you, Benjamin.” She nodded seriously, continuing on through

the town, her eyes sparkling.

The sun shone over the village that hadn’t yet received any rain that

morning and its inhabitants watched, whispered, and laughed as Elizabeth Egan walked through the small village with her head held high and her arms swinging by her sides as a piece of lakeweed clung to her tangled hair.

Elizabeth threw another coloring pencil down, crumpled up the sheet she had been working on, and tossed it across the room. It missed the bin, but she didn’t care. It could stay there with the other ten crumpled balls. She made a face at her calendar. The red X, which had originally signaled the end date for Ivan, Luke’s invisible friend who had long since gone, now signaled the end of her career. Well, she was being melodramatic. September was the opening 242

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date for the hotel and everything was going according to plan, everything had arrived on time with only the minor disasters of a few wrong orders. Mrs.

Bracken had her team working long hours making cushions, curtains, and duvet covers. But, unusually, Elizabeth was the one slowing things down. She just couldn’t find a design for the children’s playroom and was beginning to detest herself for even mentioning the idea to Vincent. She was too distracted lately. She sat at her favorite place at the kitchen table and laughed to herself at the memory of her “swim” that morning.

Things between her and Ivan were more unusual than ever and she

couldn’t understand the situation she found herself in. Today she had effectively ended their relationship and it broke her heart to do it, yet here he was still with her in her home making her laugh, as though nothing had happened. But something did happen, something huge, and she could feel the effect of it right under her chest. As the day wore on she realized that she had never backtracked so much in a relationship with a man and yet still felt satisfied to be in his company. Neither of them was ready for more, not yet anyway, but she wished so much that he was.

Dinner with Benjamin the previous night had been pleasant. She had

battled with her dislike of going out to eat, her dislike of food, and her dislike of unnecessary conversations, and while she managed to put up with those things with Ivan, sometimes even enjoy them, she still found it a task.

Socializing wasn’t enjoyable for her. However, they had much in common, had a nice chat and a nice meal, but Elizabeth wasn’t upset when it was all over and time to go home. Her mind was hugely distracted, wondering

about her future with Ivan. Not like when Ivan left her.

Luke’s giggles brought her out of her daydream.

“Bonjour, Madame,” Ivan spoke.

Elizabeth looked up to see both Ivan and Luke entering the conserva-

tory from the garden. Both had a magnifying glass held up to their right eye, the effect causing their eyes to appear gigantic. Across their upper lip a mustache had been drawn in black marker. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“Ah, but zis is no laffing matter, Madame. Zere ’az been a mur-dare,”

Ivan said gravely while approaching the table.

“A murder,” Luke translated.

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“What?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened.

“We’re looking for clues, Madame,” Luke explained, his uneven mus-

tache wobbling up and down on his upper lip as he spoke.

“A ghastly mur-dare ’az taken place in your jardin,” Ivan explained,

running the magnifying glass along the surface of the kitchen table in

search.

“That’s French for garden,” Luke explained.

Elizabeth nodded, trying not to laugh.

“Forgive us for just barging into your ’ome. Allow us to introduce

ourselves. I am Mister Monsieur and zis iz my foolish sidekick, Monsieur Rotalsnart.”

Luke giggled. “It’s backwards for translator.”

“Oh.” Elizabeth nodded. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you both but I’m

afraid I’m very busy here, so if you don’t mind . . .” She widened her eyes at Ivan.

“Mind? Of course we mind. We are in ze middle of a very serious mur-

dare investigay-c-on and you are vot?” He looked around; his eyes fell upon the crumpled balls of paper by the bin. He picked one up and studied it with his magnifying glass. “You are making snowballs as far as I can see?”

Elizabeth made a face at him and Luke giggled.

“We must interrogate you. Have you any harsh lights we can shine in

your face?” Ivan looked around the room and withdrew the question when

he caught the look on Elizabeth’s face. “Very well, Madame.”

“Who has been murdered?” Elizabeth asked.

“Ah, just as I suspected, Monsieur Rotalsnart.” They paced the floor in opposite directions with the magnifying glasses still over their eyes. “She pretends to not know so we don’t suspect her. Clever.”

“Do you think she did it?” Luke asked.

“We shall see. Madame, a worm was found squished to death earlier to-

day on the path leading from your conservatory to the clothesline. His devastated family tell us he left home when the rain had stopped in order to cross the path to the other side of the garden. His reasons for wanting to go there are not known, but it’s what worms do.”

Luke and Elizabeth looked at each other and laughed.

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“The rain stopped at six thirty p.m., which is when the worm left his

home to cross the path. Could you tell me your whereabouts, Madame?”

“Am I a suspect?” Elizabeth laughed.

“At zis stage of the investi-gay-c-on, everyone is a suspect.”

“Well, I returned from work at six fifteen p.m. and put dinner on, then I went to the utility room and emptied the damp clothes from the washing

machine into the basket.”

“Then what did you do?” Ivan thrust the magnifying glass in her face

and moved it around, studying her. “I am checking for clues,” he whis-

pered to Luke.

Elizabeth laughed. “After that I waited for the rain to stop and then I hung the washing on the line.”

Ivan gasped dramatically. “Monsieur Rotalsnart, did you hear that?”

Luke’s giggling revealed his gums, from where yet another tooth had

fallen.

“Well then this means you are the murder-air!”

“The murderer,” Luke translated.

They both turned to her with their magnifying glasses over their eyes.

Ivan spoke. “As you tried to keep your birthday of next week a secret

from me, your punishment will be to have a party in the back jardin in the memory of the recently deceased Monsieur Wriggles, the worm.”

Elizabeth groaned. “No way.”

“I know, Elizabeth.” He replaced his French accent with an upper

class British accent. “Having to socialize with the village folk is so terribly frightful.”

“What folk?” Elizabeth’s eyes narrowed.

“Oh, just a few people we invited.” Ivan shrugged. “Luke posted the

invites this morning, isn’t he great?” He nodded to a proud and beaming Luke. “Next week you will be the host of a garden party. People you don’t know very well will be stomping through your home, possibly making it

dirty. Think you can handle that?”

Date: 2015-04-20; view: 471