Bishop's Road (29 page)

She said, “Like I'd ever let you near me for fuck sake you're forty if you're a day. Screw you buddy, I'm going home.”

“You can't do that. You signed a contract.”

“Tell it to my probation officer why don't you!” Packed her bags.

On the other side of the earth, Maggie and her dad are tired. They have seen and done enough to last a lifetime. Just the other day Maggie said she would like to go back now. They were walking a little street in London and someone was tarring a roof and that scent and the salt fog made her homesick for this place. It happens to everyone. There's no getting around it. It may be warm and lovely, peaceful and no struggle elsewhere. No matter. Once this place gets in your bones you will find yourself longing now and then. Minding your own business and out of the blue a
hunger. You need something and you think it's a sandwich or love or a new coat but it isn't. And then you know. If I can breathe that air for an hour, you say. If I can walk by the water or over the hills, surely that will cure whatever ails me now.

John decides quickly that-they will move. It will take a few weeks to put things in order. Transfer his office. He sends Mrs. Miflin away with her bag of money. Tells her he will be in touch but she's not taking any chances. Comes by every day and parks her fanny on the front steps. No real estate agent is putting a sign on her house and she'll be waiting if one even tries to.

Ruth telephones a couple of times but John answers and tells her that Joanie is not accepting calls. Eleanor wants to see Beth. They had such fun at Dorrie's shop opening and it's been a while now, so Ruth is dispatched to the house on Bishop's Road to ring the doorbell. See if Beth can come over to play. She finds Joanie packing dishes in the kitchen.

“We're moving. I have to finish this so I can get supper started. We will probably sell the house to the same woman who sold it to us. Isn't that the funniest thing? She just happens to want it back and it couldn't have worked out better for us.”

“You can cut the crap,” says Ruth. “I was talking to Joe Snake and he told me what happened. Just stop for a minute will you and tell me what's really going on.”

“Nothing's going on. It just didn't work out for us, business wise. John feels that Alberta might be better. Financially. This place is not exactly a boom town, you know.”

“This is such bullshit,” says Ruth. “Been there, done that, bought the tee-shirt. Talk to me. I'm sure I have better things to do but I can't think what they are right now.”

Joanie talks. And talks. “I don't know what happened. We were so happy when we first married. Sure, John was a little controlling. Possessive. But I put it down to his loving me so much. He came from an unhappy home. His parents split up when he was young. He is so afraid of losing me that he can't stand to see me talking to other men. He just can't take any chances, you know. He loves me and the children so much. He couldn't bear to live without us. My parents haven't been in touch since we moved here. I wish I knew what's wrong. I know they don't care for John all that much but still - they would hardly write me off too. And they love their grandchildren. Oh Ruth, I don't know which end is up anymore.”

And in the end Ruth says, “So who takes your mail to the post box? Let me guess. Hmmm. Could it be John? Could that be why you never hear from your folks? Come with me. You can call them from my phone. Maybe they can help you out of this mess. That husband of yours is a freak. There's no way a man like that should be anywhere near children, especially his own.”

There's barely enough time to get to Ruth's and back -what with the car off limits - before the children return from school. Joanie's parents don't answer. She leaves a message with her address and Ruth's phone number and says she will call back as soon as she hears from them. Says please let Ruth know what time and it has to be between nine and three but not lunchtime when the children are home. And she starts to cry. Says she doesn't have any clothes to wear. Says she's lonely. Wants to call again to hear her mother's voice on the answering machine. But there's no time and she rushes home to meet Beth and Michael waiting for her on the front step. They were worried. Michael especially. He bites down on his bottom lip to stop its trembling. He's not allowed to cry. And she holds both of them more tightly than she has ever dared before. And she says, “It's all right. Everything is going to be all right now.”

Ruth says, “There. Doesn't that feel better? You don't have to be so tough, you know. I'll get out of here before that one sneaks home to check up on you. You know where I live. You have my number. If you need me, get your ass over to my place. Take this key. Hide it though. And for God's sake don't say a word about this to his nibs. That's the worst thing you could do right now. He's only got one oar in the water and it probably wouldn't take much to set him off. Promise.” And Joanie promises.

Joanie holds her tongue and if John notices that she is a touch more nervous than usual he doesn't mention it. Goes back to his office after dinner. Eve comes to the garden. Says she is pleased that Joanie phoned her mom and dad. Now she can do what she likes with the flowers.

When Judy's flight arrives she goes home to Ginny Mustard's house. Joe Snake hears a little rustling coming from downstairs but thinks nothing of it. He is worried sick about his wife and can't be bothered with mice or rats or anything else that may be roaming about. When she comes upstairs for coffee in the morning he says, “Hello.”

“I know you're not much of a talker, Joe Snake, but I've been gone for a dog's age. You think you'd come up with more than hello.”

“I have to find a way to get Ginny Mustard out of jail. She is suffering and looking poorly. I have an appointment to talk to the warden today.”

“Why don't you see if they can put her under house arrest? I did that once. They put me at the YWCA and as long as someone checked my room all the time it worked pretty good. Until they found the bit of pot I had and turfed me out. Sometimes they let people serve their whole sentence at home as
long as someone is keeping tabs on them. They're not allowed out at night and they can't drink and stuff. You know. Shit like that. Of course, they might not do that kind of thing for murderers. Mostly just people like me. Did you get the money I sent? Do you think if I go to school this morning they might not notice I was gone? Did anyone hear from that bitch Maggie?”

When Joanie's parents hear her message, her father calls Ruth and her mother books a flight through the Internet simultaneously. They aren't the kind to waste time when their children's welfare is at stake. They pack their bags and are out of the house within an hour. John wouldn't let Ruth talk to Joanie so it is a big surprise to everyone when her parents ring the doorbell at six the next morning.

John curses when he hears it. Tells Joanie not to go near the door. Whoever it is will leave in a minute or he'll call the police but the ringing doesn't stop. Cursing some more, he heads down over the stairs. Looks out a window to find out who's making this infernal racket. When he sees who has come calling he has no choice but to let them in, but not until he forces his mouth into a welcoming smile.

Joanie's father's name is David and he is a big man. Tall and strong. The kind of dad everyone wants when there's trouble afoot. Her mother is Caroline. Not so tall but you wouldn't want to be on her bad side either. When John answers the door she pushes past him. Into the house. Calling to her daughter as she searches for the stairs.

During their flight home Maggie and her dad remember that they have nowhere to live. Surely Judy has another room-mate by now and Mr. Eldridge may not be welcome in his old house, being divorced and all. Maggie would live with him if he thought it was a good idea. But he doesn't. “You're a young woman. You should be on your own, not hanging around with an old man all the time. It's not good for you.”

Judy finds the postcards that Maggie sent ever so faithfully from abroad. Joe Snake kept them just in case she showed up again. She has a little cry for herself while she reads them.