Sea Glass Summer (38 page)

‘What should we do, Gwen?' The consternation was visible. ‘Even if I were to take this to Frank, which would be so hard on him, I don't know what he could do at this stage, having handed over guardianship to them.'

‘Wait a minute, dear.' Gwen sat thinking. ‘Did he see a lawyer to take action through the courts?'

‘No, definitely not. He'd wanted to have Oliver remain with me, but Gerard as his next of kin insisted on taking him.'

‘Well, then, I don't know much about the law, but I'd think Frank could petition to have Oliver removed from their keeping to be with the person, or persons, of his choosing.'

‘They might say he's non compos mentis?'

‘Somehow, I don't see them putting up that kind of a fight, given what can be presented against them, with witnesses. Elizabeth should already be shaking in her boots. If Frank has been praying to secure a better future for Oliver, as must be the case, then this may not be as distressing to him as you fear. I imagine when it's explained to him the relief will be enormous.'

‘You're right.' Twyla's face and body relaxed. ‘Absolutely right. Thank you, Gwen. I'll set it up tomorrow, out of Oliver's hearing, of course, to have a doctor with me when I talk to Frank. And now that his health is down-hilling, that surely can't wait until we find out if Evan and his aunt's sleuthing is successful – what Elizabeth gets up to Tuesday in Boston. I'm also going to tell Frank. I'm certain he'll be able to rest easy if Oliver is with Sarah and Evan. The parents of his own choosing.'

They talked for a little while longer before going up to bed. The next morning Twyla left on her own for St Anne's where she would meet up with Oliver, Sarah and Evan. Gwen had two reasons for remaining at home. She didn't want anyone to feel she should be included in the visit to Frank Andrews after the service. And for some reason, possibly those memories of the past that had come to her yesterday evening, she felt a pressing need to spend time alone with Sonny, who had expressed no wish to go to church as he sometimes did. The thought caught up with her as she came downstairs that time was pressing at their backs. A clock was ticking faster and faster, leaping from seconds to minutes, so out of control that it was bound to stop suddenly forever. Gwen pressed her hand to her heart, aware that Jumbo was looking up at her anxiously. She sat down in her chair by the fireplace in the book room. She hadn't had one of these panic attacks – which is what her doctor had been almost sure was all they were – in several weeks.

The few hours alone with Sonny were good ones. She talked to him about Beatrice – bringing forth smiles, if no verbal response – of childhood friends of his time in Boston and then of times spent with her parents and Rowena.

She had been thinking often of her sister recently – of the rage she had expressed toward her after their father's funeral. Rowena's firm distancing of herself in the following years, while maintaining devoted contact with their mother, who had never brought the matter up with Gwen, knowing that doing so would only add pain. That distance had only been breached once, by an incredible act of generosity on Rowena's part. Reconciliation. But, no . . . when Gwen phoned the number in France to express her overwhelming gratitude, she had merely said it was the right thing to have done. A plea that they could see each other was brushed aside. They each had their own lives and could remain fond of each other from different sides of the ocean. She also made it clear that in future she preferred letter contact to phone calls. Gwen saw no hope of the wall coming down. She wrote at first every couple of months, but Rowena only responded to the second or third letter, so gradually she spaced her own further apart and that seemed to work better, in that Rowena began replying after a month or so to individual letters. When John died she didn't make an attempt at another phone call to suggest a hope that her sister would come to his funeral. Rowena had already given to them more than could ever have been expected. That letter had received a prompt and kind response, but still no mention of a wish to see Gwen again. Acceptance had come over the years. And then had come Sonny's diagnosis. Should she, or should she not, let Rowena know about it? Didn't she have a right to be informed? Yes. But it would put her in such a difficult position if she still preferred to stay away. Here would be her sister in another crisis, compelling her out of decency and generosity to come to the rescue. So far Gwen had said nothing, keeping her letters as always light, but increasingly she was wondering if she had made the wrong decision.

‘It's sad Grandpa died.' Sonny suddenly spoke for the first time.

‘Yes, dear. He loved you very much.' Jumbo shifted closer to her chair. What peace he brought.

‘What's Grandma doing?'

‘Being her always lovely self.'

‘Can we go and see her?'

‘Sometime, dear.'

‘I'd like that.' His smile was so broad it even seemed to include Jumbo.

After that he slipped back into vague-eyed silence. He barely touched the breakfast she'd prepared. She was contemplating a pork roast, although what she was really yearning for was fried chicken, which she hadn't eaten in years. Her thoughts were interrupted when Twyla returned. Sonny had moments previously gone up to his bedroom having wandered in to stare at the piano before turning away.

‘How was Frank today?' she asked when she and Twyla were seated at the table drinking freshly-brewed coffee.

‘Praise be, this was one of his good times. His speech was clearer than usual and it was obvious he took mightily to Sarah and Evan. You should have seen the way his eyes lighted up when she gave him that blanket she knitted. And, oh, you should've seen how Oliver looked when he tucked it around his shoulders. Then Frank asked Evan about his books and they got off talking about other ones they'd read. Well, Evan said the most of it, as was necessary, but you could tell right enough Frank was enjoying himself to the full. The three of them said their goodbyes and went out a little ahead of me. And he said, though it was a little hard to hear because his voice was failing some: “Those are two good young people. Good for our Oliver.” And I said, “Loving, level and kind – along with being the right ages. I'll talk more about that tomorrow, so get you some good rest.”'

‘Did you manage a word with anyone about having a doctor with you?'

‘I surely did. Slipped away while they were discussing
Alice in Wonderland
and how Oliver had loved it so much when Frank read it to him, and he and Evan were going to revisit it before going on the next one. Mr Braddock – he's the manager at Pleasant Meadows – was in his office. Nice man. When I explained he said he'd contact Frank's own GP, Doctor Marshall; the one he's had from way back and was so good to him and Olive when Clare and Max died. The hope is he can come at ten tomorrow morning when Frank should be at his best.'

That afternoon Twyla received a call from Mr Braddock, saying the time and day worked well for Dr Marshall. A few minutes later, Nellie phoned Gwen saying she hoped both women could come round to her house at nine thirty the next morning to look over the items she had retrieved from the shop in Dobbs Mill. If so, she would ask Sarah to join them. Later wouldn't work for her, nor anytime today, because she would be attending lengthy church meetings.

There would be no problem with Sonny. Sid Jennson had been in touch earlier with the good news that he was back fit as a fiddle from whatever bug had ailed him and, if possible, he'd like to pick Sonny up at nine tomorrow and take him on a run to look at light houses and then out to lunch if all went well.

Gwen asked for a moment to consult with Twyla. She explained the timing of the invitation. ‘That's no good for you, Twyla. And you're the one who should be there. Shall I tell Nellie you'll go on your own on Tuesday?'

‘I'd rather you went ahead with it tomorrow, Gwen. I'm sure as houses you and Sarah have a better eye for what's valuable and what isn't than I do. And we're all eager to the jumping point to know as much about Elizabeth's activities as possible. Could be she tried to sell this man whatever it is she seems like to be taking up to Boston, and he told her his wasn't the right kind of shop for it.'

And so it was agreed. The following morning proceeded according to the arranged timetable. Sid Jennson collected Sonny as promised. Twyla left in her car for Pleasant Meadows, and Gwen headed down to Nellie's in hers with Jumbo in the back. She had asked if it would be all right to bring Jumbo because she wanted to take him for a walk along the beach afterward, hopefully with Sarah.

Oliver had returned to the Cully Mansion the previous evening. At the potluck Elizabeth had reminded him of his responsibilities to Feathers. Poor little parakeet! He wasn't where he was meant to be either. ‘And that is one more thing to weigh Oliver down,' Gwen said to Jumbo on getting him out of the car.

Gwen had never been in Nellie's house before, but once ushered inside it was very much what she had expected, having been told it was still much the same as when lived in by Nellie's elderly parents. They'd liked farmhouse plain, same as she did, not caring for furniture that talked down to her. The door opened directly into the living room and thence through a rounded archway into the dining room. There was a red brick fireplace, heavy-weave dark blue and cream check on rods at the windows, and beneath the coffee table a multicolored rag rug. Instead of a sofa there was a grouping of four comfortably shabby armchairs. Jumbo lay down beside one of them.

Sarah had arrived earlier and she said, standing in the archway, ‘Isn't this an inviting house, Gwen?'

‘It certainly is. I can understand why the spirit guys enjoy stopping by.'

‘But Nellie just told me she's thinking of moving out to Ferry Landing,' Sarah said, ‘to be close to her great-nephew, his wife and Brian.'

‘They've been pushing for it,' said Nellie from behind Gwen, ‘but I'm still mulling things over. If Frank Andrews should decide to sell his house that might be the clincher, it being just around the corner from them. Let's get started in there.' She pointed her stick toward the dining room. ‘I've moved my stuff and set out Lizzie's loot on the bottom dresser shelf.'

Sarah, being nearest, reached it first and was holding a Meisen figurine when they joined her. ‘The man asked for four hundred for this, but he let Nellie have it for three hundred and fifty. What do you think?' She handed it to her.

Gwen looked it over before returning it to the dresser shelf. ‘Rather nice. A pretty piece and in good condition. I'd say that was fair, but I wonder how high his markup was.' She and Sarah looked over the other pieces. Mostly china, a couple more figurines, including one of Napoleon. And there was the teapot Nellie had mentioned. It was Minton and, Gwen thought, at least pre-World War Two. Probably the person most likely to pay the most would be someone wishing to increase or complete a set. But it would be a matter of him, or her, happening by, unless the shop owner was on eBay. What she found most personally delightful were four Georgian or Regency enameled snuff boxes. She thought it likely, not having looked at the itemized sales receipt, that they might have accounted for a sizeable portion of what Nellie, now hovering in the background, had paid out. There were also some silver pieces – a nutcracker, a pair of grape scissors and a miniature frame without its intended photo – sensible of Elizabeth to have removed it. And in addition to these, the small silver carriage clock Robin Polly had said was given to his wife of many years by Nathaniel Cully. Sarah passed it over.

‘Read the verse, Gwen; I think you'll agree Oliver would love to have it.'

The engraving required her reading glasses; she drew them out of her skirt pocket.
Count not the hours as lost, when I am gone from thee, my love so deep transcends, the widest lonely sea.
She stood, remembering John and her parents, her eyes misting. ‘I know Oliver would treasure this. Nathaniel and his wife were an elderly couple when he gave this to her. I have this sense, I don't know why – unless sentimentality – that his health was failing and that verse expressed his belief that the love for those left behind never dies and that he would always be there, some way, somehow, for her.'

‘I go along with that!' proclaimed Nellie with a dangerously close wave of her stick. ‘Mighty comforting notion for young Oliver, I'd think, losing both parents so young and now his grandfather failing bad. Then there's his interest in Nathaniel – came asking if I knew of any photos or pictures of him as a young boy to get a look at.'

‘Yes,' agreed Sarah, ‘living in that house, Oliver naturally wants to learn as much as he can about him. Do you want us to look at that receipt, Nellie?'

‘Well, don't neither of you faint at the total. You'll see it's three thousand, seven hundred. And it's not like I can count on getting it back, seeing as no one asked me to stick my nose in. Still, worth every penny to my mind if it helps get Oliver away from that pair! I don't know if what she did here is a misdemeanor or a felony, if let's say Elizabeth's take home was two thousand, and half of that would be Oliver's share.'

‘It's not like stealing a handkerchief, is it?' Gwen looked down at the receipt Sarah had just handed to her. As she had guessed, the snuff box had been the costliest of the items. ‘Either way Oliver is going to hate it. He has the most susceptible heart. He's suffering enormous guilt because he can't sufficiently love that parakeet they gave him, so imagine how he'd feel with Elizabeth and Gerard being a thieving aunt and uncle.'

‘You've got me there, good.' Nellie's still, rounded face deflated. ‘But that poor child can't be left to their mercies.'

‘And he will not be,' said Gwen, ‘but by the appropriate person, Frank Andrews. Twyla has gone to talk to him now. Knowing Frank as she does, she is sure he will wish to handle the situation in the most restrained and productive way possible.' Gwen had informed Sarah and Evan on the phone yesterday evening, after Oliver had gone back to the Cullys, of what Twyla was going to say to Frank with the doctor present. The only part omitted concerned the suggestion Oliver should be placed in the care of – as Twyla had said – the couple he had evidently chosen for his parents.