Scarborough by Ellen L. Ekstrom

Author:Ellen L. Ekstrom [Ekstrom, Ellen L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: literature, england, classical music, romance, fantasy, heartbreak, music, love, history
Publisher: Central Avenue Publishing
Published: 2012-12-19T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

“You’re not sulking. That’s odd.”

I had ceased to be annoyed or startled whenever they showed up. No one ever seemed to notice them, or thought that I was talking to myself—at least, not that anyone said anything. So there was Rafe standing at the elevator bay when I left the hotel room in search of breakfast and some air to clear my head. He followed me out of the hotel, and no surprise, to The Shop. Rafe was fidgeting with a pack of Chesterfields and I held the door for him, listening to the muttering about ‘bad choices’ and ‘worse women’ as I threaded through the tables to mine. When I sat down, the sight of a bright red double-decker bus passing by the window caught my attention and I recognized the silver roses on the advertisements. Rafe snapped his copy of The Evening News, the page turned to local events. There was a listing for the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra’s appearance at the festival and I winced at the photo of Briony and me at a happier time. Then I saw it in the corner: an announcement for a summer course in 1978, the next year, at The College of Ripon and York St John. A photograph of Alice stood out.

“It would have been nice to have been dropped into that weekend and the week after,” I groused. Rafe frowned and turned the page to see what I had tapped.

“Oh, so you feel short-changed? Put out? I don’t blame you. Let me see if I have this right. By the time that summer came round she’d already published several articles and papers, and had a book in the works, and when the original professor dropped out to join Donovan Trist’s dig at Petra, she was a perfect choice to replace him. And did you expect her to sit on a shelf until you made up your mind and decided you were no threat?”

“I would never hurt Alice!”

“Then why were you so afraid? She goes from strength to strength these days.”

“What exactly are these days?” I wanted to know, taking the manuscript pages from him.

“Whatever you want them to be, dear boy. Do you want them to be wine and roses, great passion, artistic success?”

“I want my sanity and peace. I want Alice.”

“If you insist,” Rafe sighed and made a production of turning the pages of the newspaper spread out before him, snapping it yet again, and when he put the paper down, The Shop filled with the usual crowd: Richard III with his crossword puzzle, Jane Austen writing and mumbling to herself, Jimi Hendrix and Edward IV playing a duet, this time Since I Fell for You, with Janis on vocals. Hildegard was watering the flowers and making bouquets for customers; the Proprietress was arranging parquetry casks on shelves and in display cases.

Rafe poured two cups of coffee and brought over a cheesecake and Pop Tarts, which he offered to the others, and then pulled my music manuscript over to begin another review, turning the pages carefully.

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