Crow Lake (21 page)

part
SIX

chapter
TWENTY-THREE

That last stretch of the journey from Toronto to Crow Lake always takes me by the throat. Partly it’s the familiarity; I know every tree, every rock, every boggy bit of marshland so well, that even though I almost always arrive after dark I can feel them around me, lying there in the darkness as if they were my own bones. Partly too, it is the sensation of going back in time, moving from “now” to “then,” and the recognition that wherever you are now and wherever you may be in the future, nothing alters the point you started from.

Normally, the feeling is as much pleasure as pain. It fills me with a sort of all-pervading regret, but it also anchors me and helps me to know who I am. That Friday night, though, with Daniel in the passenger seat, still peering out of the window as if by penetrating the darkness he might learn whatever there was to know about me, the memories were too close. They weighed too much. I could not see how I was going to get through the coming celebrations—the joking, the merrymaking, the being-sociable, not to mention bringing Daniel into it all. It seemed to me that they must think that I was flaunting him. Bringing him home deliberately in order to show off my success. Here am I, with my wonderful career, and here is my boyfriend with his wonderful career, and look at all of you. I felt I would die rather than have them think that of me.

“How far?” Daniel asked suddenly, out of the darkness.

“Five minutes.”

“Oh! Great! Didn’t know we were so close.” He shifted his position, trying to ease the stiffness. He’d said almost nothing for the past half-hour, for which I was grateful.

I had to remind myself to turn right at the Northern Side Road rather than continue on to the lake. Normally when I come I stay with Luke and Bo, but the farm is about half a mile along the side road, on the left. You could see it as soon as we turned off the Lake Road. All the lights were on in the farmhouse and they’d switched on the lights over the barn and the silo as well, by way of welcome. The silo is new since Calvin Pye’s day. And the barn is not the original one. Matt burned down Calvin’s barn.

Matt and Marie were down by the driveway when we pulled in—they would have seen our lights as soon as we saw theirs, and guessed it was us. Marie hung back a bit while Matt and I hugged each other, holding each other hard. As children we never embraced—it’s something we’ve started to do quite recently. Like coming home itself, it is both pleasure and pain. The feel of him is wonderful, but hugging seems such a symbolic gesture, in our case—a physical attempt to close an emotional distance, to bridge a gap which should not be there.

“Good trip?” he said, wrapping his arms right round me.

“Fine.”

We released each other, and he smiled at Daniel. “You made it then.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it,” Daniel said.

“He’s not impressed by the bugs, though,” I said, trying for a lightness of tone and achieving it, more or less. “Hi, Marie.”

Marie and I do not embrace. We smile the polite smile of acquaintances.

“Hi,” she said, still hanging back a bit. “You made good time.”

“Bugs?” Matt said. “Do we have bugs?”

“I should introduce you,” I said. “Daniel, meet Matt and Marie.”

It was said.
Daniel, meet Matt …
After all these weeks of dreading it, visualizing it, living it in advance a thousand times, it was said. And my voice was fine. You wouldn’t have known, if you were listening in, the huge and nameless weight behind those words. They were said, and I had survived it. The world was still turning on its axis. I should have felt relief.

“You must be hungry,” Marie said. “We’ve held supper for you.”

Simon materialized out of the dark, tall and lanky like his father. Terribly like his father.

“Hi, Auntie,” he said. “Do I get a kiss?”

He calls me Auntie to tease. There is less than nine years between us. I kissed him, and he kissed me back, and shook hands with Daniel and said that it was nice of him to come.

Daniel said, “You’re the one it’s all in honour of?” and Simon said, “Yup.” Then he added, “Well actually, it’s just an excuse to get Aunt Kate to come home because we hardly ever see her. But you won’t be sorry you came. Huge amounts of food. Mum and Bo and everybody’s been cooking like maniacs.”

“Speaking of which,” Matt said, “let’s eat. Marie’s made all of us wait for you.” He started ushering us toward the house.

Daniel was swatting blackflies again. Matt grinned, walking beside him. “You’ll have to come back in a month or so. Then we can introduce you to the mosquitoes as well.”

“Why is it just me?” Daniel said, smashing himself on the neck. “What’s the matter with you guys?”

“They’re tired of us. We’ve got something in the house you can douse yourself with.”

Matt seemed much older than Daniel, when I looked at them together. Of course, he is older—he’s thirty-seven and Daniel’s thirty-four—but the difference seemed much greater than that. It’s not physical, exactly—in fact he looks a good deal fitter than Daniel, and he has significantly more hair. But his face seems to have many more years of experience in it, somehow. Also, there is a quietness about Matt. There was even when he was a boy, and it made him seem older than he was even then.

“Did you have a good trip?” Marie said, though the question had already been asked.

“Great, thanks.”

“Everybody’s dying to see you.” She gave me her shy smile. She has changed very little over the years. If anything, her looks have improved. She still comes across as anxious, but her eyes are less fearful now. The five of us began walking toward the house, Simon in the lead. “Bo and Luke are coming over later,” Marie said. “We said come for supper, but they said no, they’d just come for a chat.”

“They’ll make it in time for dessert,” Simon said. “At least Luke will.”

“Well there’s plenty,” Marie said mildly.

“Luke’s in a bad way at the moment,” Simon said, turning around and grinning at us. “He’s started teaching Bo to drive again.”

“Really?” I said. “She’s worn him down at last then.”

“This is the third attempt,” Matt explained to Daniel. “He started to teach her about five years ago, when Bo was sixteen, and it wasn’t what you’d call a success. So they had a break and then tried again about two years later. I think that attempt only lasted about ten minutes. Bo’s attitude to driving is …” he made circular motions with his hands, searching for the right word— “casual. A combination of casual and overconfident. Luke found it a bit stressful.”

“That’s an understatement,” Simon said. “He was a broken man.”

Simon, I recalled, had passed his test the day he turned sixteen. It was virtually the only thing he could lord it over Bo about—she is three years his senior and has done everything first—and he made the most of it.

“Well I don’t think you should tease her,” Marie said. “I’m sure she’ll do really well this time.” She turned to me. “Mrs. Stanovich is dying to see you. She’s coming tomorrow, of course, to the party. And Miss Carrington. She’s coming too.”

“All the old crowd,” I said. Simon dropped back to be with the men. Matt was pointing something out to Daniel. I heard him say, “Over the top of the house.” I looked, and there were half a dozen little brown bats darting silently back and forth, as if they were knitting together pieces of blue-black sky. All three men stopped to watch them, heads back.

“And the Tadworths, of course,” Marie was saying. “And Simon’s friends from school.”

I turned my attention back to her. Marie has no interest in bats, just as she has no interest in ponds.

“What time is everyone arriving?” I said.

“About noon.”

“Sounds good. We’ll have the morning to prepare. Is there much to do?”

“Not much. A few desserts, that’s all.”

“I bet you’ve been cooking for weeks.”

“Oh well, you know. I have the freezer, and it’s good to have some things prepared ahead.”

That is what we do, Marie and I. We stick to practicalities. What time are we doing this? Where would you like me to put that? What a nice vase—where did you get it? Should I peel the potatoes?

Luke and Bo arrived as Marie was cutting the first slice of cheesecake.

“You’re here!” Simon said. “What timing!”

“Just thought we’d wander over,” Luke said, putting his hands on my shoulders and squeezing gently. “Say hello to the stranger. Strangers,” he amended, seeing Daniel and stretching out his hand. Daniel stood up, and they shook hands over the table. “Glad you could come,” Luke said. “I’m Luke. This is Bo.”

“Daniel,” said Daniel.

“Hi,” said Bo. “I’ve brought a Bavarian torte.” She dumped it down on the table.

Marie said, “Oh, how lovely. Is it for tomorrow?”

“There’s another for tomorrow. This is for tonight. By the way, did you know Mrs. Stanovich has made a birthday cake? Giant thing. Three tiers and a little sugared Simon on the top.”

“Yes,” Marie said. “I know you’ve made one, but she wanted to, and I thought, well, I’m sure we’ll eat both.”

“Oh sure,” Bo said cheerfully. “No problem. I just didn’t know if you knew. Simon will eat both all by his little self. How are you, Little One? How does it feel to be nearly grown up?” She patted Simon on the head. He grabbed at her wrist but she eluded him serenely. “Hi, Kate.” She bent and kissed my cheek. “You look elegant. Thin though.”

She herself looked wonderful. She is an Amazon, my sister, tall and blond and beautiful as a warrior. Simon wouldn’t stand a chance against her in a fair fight. In fact I suspect she could give even Luke a run for his money, though he was looking pretty fit himself. Nowadays every time I see Luke I am amazed all over again at how handsome he is. I never realized it as a child. He’s nearly thirty-nine and he just keeps getting better. Eat your heart out, Sally McLean.

Matt said, “Sit down, you lot. Have some cheesecake and some of Bo’s mud pie. Go ahead, Marie, dole it out.”

Luke collapsed into a chair. I saw Simon grinning at him and forming a question about driving lessons, but Marie saw it too and inclined her head at him warningly, and he subsided.

“Did you have a good trip?” Luke asked. “Before I forget, Laura Carrington sends her regards—she’ll be here tomorrow. How’s the big city? You’re having another mail strike, I hear.”

“Aren’t we always?” I said. “Thanks, Marie, could I have a bit of each?”

Bo sat down beside me. “I need to fill you in on all the gossip,” she said. “What don’t you know?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Did you know Janie Mitchell—well, Janie Laplant as she is now—is getting divorced? So actually she won’t be Janie Laplant any more, she’ll be Janie Mitchell.”

“I don’t think I knew she’d become Janie Laplant.”

“You did. I told you. Did you know Mrs. Stanovich is a great-grandmother again?”

“I think I did know that.”

“You’re thinking of the last one. This one only arrived last Sunday. Did you know Mr. Janie’s dairy herd had won a prize? Or at least Ophelia won a prize. She produces more milk than any other cow in North America. Or maybe it’s just in Struan County.”

Marie said, “Daniel? Cheesecake or Bavarian torte?”

Daniel was looking a bit dazed, due either to Bo or to the noise. He said, “Um, both please.”

Luke was saying, “… so he bought the whole island. He’s building this massive hunting lodge. Reckons rich Americans are going to come in their millions.”

“He thinks they’re going to drive all the way up here?” Simon said.

“He’ll fly them in. Seaplanes.”

Matt said solemnly, “Experience the Breathtaking Beauty of the Canadian Wilderness. Witness the …” He groped for words.

“Wild Savagery?” Simon suggested, equally solemn. “Untamed Splendour?”

“Both of those. Witness the Wild Savagery of the Raging Rivers. Contemplate the Untamed Splendour of the Forests. See the Awesome Spectacle of …”

“How about ‘Thrill to’?”

“Thrill to the Awesome Spectacle of the Massive Moose …”

“Or Mammoth Moose …”

“Mighty Moose …”

“Jim Sumack reckons he’s going to grow his hair and stick feathers in it and hire himself out as a guide,” Luke said. “Make his fortune. I’m hoping they’re going to need a very large amount of rustic furniture. Oh, thanks, Marie. A bit of both.”

“Do you think they will?”

“Well they’re going to need furniture from somewhere. Save them money if they don’t have to ship it in.”

“Endure the Rugged Grandeur of Luke’s Rustic Furniture …”

Marie said, “Bo? Cheesecake or Bavarian torte?”

Her cheeks were flushed, but now that the pressures of company-for-dinner were nearly over she looked less tense than she had earlier. In fact, as she hovered hopefully over the desserts with her cake knife, it seemed to me that she looked almost content.

I thought, Do you forget it all, then? Living here, in this house which saw such terrible things, do you somehow manage simply not to think about it? Is that how you go on?

That night—that memorable September night—it was Luke, stunned and disbelieving though he was, who took charge. Matt wasn’t in a state to do anything. I remember him standing with Marie. They were outside still, and she was still sobbing with terror. He was holding her, helplessly, helplessness in every line of his body. I remember Luke going out to them and bringing them both in. He tried to calm Marie down, but she was beside herself with fear. I don’t think she even knew Luke and I were there. She kept saying to Matt, “Matt, I’m two months late. I’m sick every morning and I’m two months late. Matt, he’ll kill me. Oh God, he’ll kill me.”

Luke said, “Okay, Marie, calm down,” but she couldn’t. He himself had the look of someone who had just woken up and didn’t know where he was. He said, “Kate, go put the kettle on. Make her some tea or something.” So I went and put the kettle on, but then I went right back.

Marie was still clinging onto Matt, and Luke was trying to talk to her. He said, “Marie? I’ve got to ask you something. You said he killed Laurie. What did you mean? Marie, listen to me. Who killed Laurie?”

Matt said, “Leave her, Luke.” It was the first time he’d spoken since she’d started her outburst. His voice was hoarse and unsteady.