Last Summer in Louisbourg (7 page)

“We've got to go there as soon as we can,” said Justine urgently.

“Right after work.”

Chapter Ten

The two girls jumped off the bus and ran all the way to Vivian's store. They were out of breath by the time they charged through the doorway. Vivian was behind the counter, facing a clutch of customers who were listening intently as she described the alarming events of the previous night.

“Cory couldn't say for sure if it was a knife or some other sort of weapon. It was sharp and was pushed into the middle of his back. Poor kid. He must have been terrified,” said Vivian sympathetically.

“So then what happened…after he nearly got stabbed?” asked a tall lady in a denim jacket.

“He was forced to open the cash drawer. The thief took all the money, then he forced Cory across the store and shoved him into the cold cupboard. That's where we put the fruit and vegetables at night. The burglar locked him in. The thing is, there's a lock on the outside of that door but normally we never use it. Apparently this fellow was familiar enough with the building and that's why the police suspect he'd been in the store before.”

“How long was Cory in the cupboard?” asked Justine anxiously.

“Till nearly midnight. When his parents realized he wasn't home and it was that late, they came looking for him,” Vivian replied.

“What's the world coming to?” asked a heavy man in a navy blue T-shirt.

“Makes you wonder,” Vivian sighed. “We get quite a few strangers in here in the summertime with all the visitors coming and going from the fortress. There's no way we can remember every single person who shops here.”

“Is Cory all right now?” Justine enquired earnestly.

“He's fine, thank God. I told him to take a few days off. What a brave boy. You girls should go over to his house and say hello. I bet he'd appreciate a visit,” Vivian suggested.

“His house?” repeated Justine. Somehow she hadn't given any thought to Cory's other life in a house where he presumably lived with his family. All she had ever seen or known of Cory Rankin was right here in this store.

“Good idea,” said Andrea enthusiastically, giving Justine a quick jab with her elbow. “Now which is his house? I forget.”

“Just up the road there. The yellow one right across from the seniors' home,” Vivian gestured.

“Oh, sure. Let's go, Juss,” Andrea directed, as she ushered her surprised friend out of the store. They hadn't even had time for a Coke.

At the yellow house they stood looking at the door for a long minute. It was Andrea who finally knocked. Justine was too nervous to do it.

Someone called, “Come in.”

They timidly opened the screen door and found themselves in a large kitchen. Cory was sitting at the kitchen table, along with a lady who surely had to be his mother. When he saw who the visitors were, he looked a bit startled.

“Hi. How's it goin'?” he enquired.

“That's exactly what we came to ask you,” laughed Andrea.

“Vivian said we should come over,” Justine explained quickly, to justify being so bold as to track Cory right into his home.

He looked perfectly all right. Apart from a piece of masking tape around the bridge of his glasses, no one would have guessed the ordeal he had endured.

“Sit down, girls. I'll put the kettle on for some tea,” invited Cory's mother. “You're the girls who stay over at the bed and breakfast, aren't you? And you both work up at the fortress?”

“That's right, Mrs. Rankin. I'm Andrea. This is Justine. We heard about the robbery, so we came over to see if Cory was okay.”

“Isn't it dreadful? I can hardly believe it,” clucked Mrs. Rankin, who was a small woman with short, dark hair and a round face. She wore baggy blue jeans and a red T-shirt with the words SPORTY FORTY printed on it. “A robbery right here in Louisbourg. It just proves you don't know who's out there. I never did like the idea of Cory being over at the store late at night. I don't want him working there in the evenings any more; not on his own.”

“Aw, Mom,” grumbled Cory.

“The police have been here. Twice now,” his mother added.

“What did they ask you, Cory?” Justine wanted to know.

“Oh, a lot of things. Did I see the guy's face? What kind of clothes was he wearing? Was he tall or short? What age was he? Had I ever seen the guy in the store before?”

“Had you?”

“No. Trouble was, I didn't really see his face at all. He snuck up behind me while I was putting the oranges and celery and stuff away for the night. He poked something sharp in my back and ordered me to open the cash drawer. He grabbed all the money, then he pushed me across the store so hard it knocked off my glasses. I don't have very good eyesight without them, so all I could say for sure was that he was wearing jeans and sneakers and a baseball cap pulled down around his eyebrows.”

“Which sounds like just about every guy in the country,” remarked Andrea.

“Did he steal anything else?” asked Justine, eager for every detail.

“All the cigarettes. Fifteen cartons.”

“Ewww. Gross,” commented Andrea.

“And on top of that he took my Walkman, which was lying on the counter, and that makes me really mad,” said Cory angrily.

“Now, Cory, dear, we can get you another,” consoled his mother as she got up to make the tea.

It didn't take Justine very long to return to her chatty self once her astonishment at being inside Cory's home wore off. Cory's mother was the sort of woman who made people feel at home, and Cory, despite his recent ordeal, turned out to be a more relaxed person in his own home than he was when he was working at the store.

“So, how do you like Louisbourg?” he asked them both.

“The town or the fortress?” countered Andrea.

“The town.”

“Suits me okay,” replied Justine.

“Me too,” Andrea said with a nod.

“Not much goin' on here,” Cory lamented, “unless getting robbed is your idea of a good time.”

Both girls giggled a bit and then Justine remarked, “There's not much excitement where I come from either.”

“Where's that?”

“River Bourgeois.”

“Oh yeah, I've heard of it. But I was never there. They say it's pretty nice.”

“It is. Actually…” Justine began, “if you wanted to see it for yourself you could…you could come to my birthday party next week. Andrea's coming too. My brother's coming up to get us so you could get a ride. And you could stay overnight because Marc has space in his room for a camp bed.”

“But what would your parents say about that?” asked Mrs. Rankin. “I think you'd better ask them first.”

“Oh, my mom and dad wouldn't mind. I'll check first, but I know they like me to bring my friends home. Mom always says we're less likely to get into trouble if we're at home,” explained Justine.

“I'm sure she's right,” said Mrs. Rankin.

“Mmm,” muttered Cory uncertainly. “I dunno if I can go.”

“I'm really looking forward to it,” said Andrea persuasively.

“Cory, why don't you go too? It would be good for you to get away from all this fuss for a while, to take your mind off the robbery,” suggested his mother.

“The robbery's history,” declared Cory firmly. There was a long pause before he said anything else. He didn't want anyone to think he had been bothered by what had happened to him…nor that he was going to take his mother's advice. Finally he sighed and shrugged and said, “Might be fun. Why not?”

Justine flashed a wide smile and then, in case she appeared overly enthusiastic, she assumed a matter-of-fact expression and hoped she sounded businesslike.

“Okay. I'll let you know what time my brother's coming. We'd better go now. Thanks for the tea,” she said.

“Yes, thanks,” added Andrea as they got up to leave.

Justine didn't stop talking all the way back to the Northeast Bed and Breakfast. Andrea had never seen her in such a good mood.

Chapter Eleven

“You expect me to play my part in this?” Andrea exclaimed, looking down in mild horror at a slender birch-bark canoe lying half in and half out of the water.

“What's your problem? I thought you said some uncle of yours owned a boat and you loved it,” countered Penny as she surveyed the stony shore where the scene would be filmed.

“My uncle has a big scallop-fishing boat. It's got a cabin and an engine, and places to sleep and cook and everything. It's not a bit like this.”

“Don't get your shirt in a knot. You won't be in it for long. With any luck we can get the entire shoot done today, as long as the fog hangs around. What's more, we have an experienced paddler among our crew and he's volunteered to teach you how to paddle it. Here he comes now. So get busy and practise. We start work this afternoon.”

Penny rushed away and Andrea turned around to see who her instructor would be. Her mouth fell open. Calvin Jefferson Lee was approaching her. Was this her lucky day or what?

“Miss Andrea! Good mawnin'!” he greeted her, lifting his floppy canvas hat in a mock gesture of southern courtesy, as if he were acting in
Gone with the Wind
. Sometimes Calvin seemed to be coming from another planet. “Back when ah was a student…” he began, as if that part of his life were ancient history. How old was he, anyway? “Ah taught youngsters at a summer camp how to paddle a canoe. So far's ah know nary a one of 'em has drowned. Now then, you watch me real close and heed what ah'm sayin'. You're goin' to catch on real quick 'cause you're smart as a mockin'bird and twice as purty.” He winked at her.

Andrea could feel her heart pounding. “I can handle it,” she replied bravely, hoping the apprehension wasn't evident in her voice.

Calvin turned out to be a patient teacher. First he demonstrated how to crouch down and grasp both gunnels before setting foot in the canoe. They got in and Calvin paddled away from the shore. Kneeling behind Andrea, he reached around and gently closed a hand over hers as he showed her the correct way to hold the paddle, how to propel the canoe straight ahead, how to turn, and how to stop. His arms felt incredibly strong.

After that he watched from the stern seat while Andrea paddled alone. He reminded her more than once that she must never stand up in a canoe, no matter what. He even described a manoeuvre to get back into the canoe if she happened to fall overboard, but reassured her that that wasn't going to happen as long as she remembered her lessons.

The fog became thicker and for a while they couldn't even see the nearby shore.

“I had the idea they hired stunt people to do scenes like this,” Andrea remarked, to let him know she knew a thing or two about making movies.

Calvin gave a quiet, throaty chuckle. “Never fe-ah, dahlin'. The crew's gonna be practically 'longside, just inches away from the sweet sound of your paddle dippin' in the water. Don't you worry that purty li'l head of yours.”

There was that word again. Purty.

But Andrea did worry—not about falling overboard and drowning—she was a good swimmer. She was more concerned about making a fool of herself in front of Calvin.

“You're gettin' the hang of it now,” he said approvingly. Throughout the lesson he had been facing her back. She wondered if he had merely been watching the way she paddled or if he had actually noticed her. For all she knew he might have been staring off into space. Now Calvin steered the canoe back to the shore, where they got out and together lifted the little craft above the high tide line. The enchanted lesson was over. The fog was lifting a little. Calvin returned to his real work of setting up lighting systems for the film.

Andrea had to return to her real world too. She headed back toward Lartigue House, wishing she could share her excitement with Justine.

Imagine—a whole hour with Calvin! But she knew that if she mentioned her role in the film again, it would send Justine into another long sulk.

Maybe she could phone Suzy, back in Toronto. No, that wasn't possible. Suzy was up north at her parents' summer cottage, where they didn't have a phone. She could phone her mother but that wasn't such a hot idea. How could she tell her mother she had just spent an hour with a guy she wanted to spend all day with? She couldn't. If only there was somebody to share her joy.

Even if Justine had been a willing listener, there wasn't a hope of talking to her that day. In the staff lunch room Justine was now centre stage. Everyone wanted to hear all the details of the robbery at Vivian's store. Andrea was getting a little bored listening to the story over and over, but Justine obviously loved describing it.

“The robber stole mostly the same things—money, cigarettes, and videos,” Justine continued knowingly. “And the thing that made Cory so mad was the guy stole his Walkman. Anyway, his grandmother is going to buy him a new stereo on Friday, when she gets her pension cheque.”

“How do you know that?” enquired Andrea.

“I know a few things you don't,” said Justine smugly.

Penny Goodman appeared at the door of the lunch room looking for Andrea. “Of all the rotten luck,” she grumbled. “The sun is starting to shine. Just when we need the fog, the damn stuff disappears. This afternoon's shoot is cancelled. I'll call you when we need you.”

Nothing could have pleased Andrea more. Calvin wouldn't be working either. There might be time for another canoe lesson. Maybe he would even ask her out.

Next morning at seven o'clock there was a phone call for Andrea. “Damnation,” she muttered as she hauled herself out of bed and into her bathrobe. “Why does my mother always phone me at this ungodly hour?”

It was Penny Goodman. “Perfect day,” she stated. “There's fog everywhere and the forecast says it's going to last. We start the canoe shoot at nine o'clock sharp.”

“But I can't work today,” Andrea protested. “Today and tomorrow are my days off. I'm going to River Bourgeois with Justine. It's her birthday.”

“You've got to work today,” Penny insisted. “We're running weeks behind schedule. We've had far too many delays already, what with the weather and everything else. We've got a deadline, you know! This is show business, not a teddy bear's picnic! Do you want this part or not?” she bellowed into the phone. She sounded really angry.

“But…” stammered Andrea.

“I'm sending a car for you in an hour. Make-up first, then I'll meet you on the quay. Don't be late.” She hung up.

Andrea went back into the bedroom and sat down heavily on the edge of her bed.

“Happy birthday, Justine. But I can't go with you today,” she lamented, tears welling up in her eyes. “I have to stay here and work on that stupid film.”

Justine was about to brush her hair but stopped in mid-air. “That's the pits,” she grumbled sympathetically. “Everyone at home wants you to come.”

“They do?”

“Yeah. And especially my brother Marc. He keeps asking me about you. Anyway, I'll bring you back a piece of birthday cake. Mom always bakes two—one for me and one for Sylvie.”

“Thanks a million,” said Andrea joylessly. A piece of cake would be nice, but it wasn't going to compensate for this lost opportunity to see Justine in her own home among her family and friends…and to see her brother again.