Shadow of Love (10 page)

It didn’t end with him returning to his home, either. Steve Masden had a long chat with his mother, while he was sent to take a warm shower in their miniscule bathroom. He didn’t rush back to the living room, dragging out the unavoidable moment when he had to face both his mother and the man who inexplicably cared for his well-being more than he would have expected. Upon his return, the first thing he noticed was the fact that his mother didn’t seem as utterly angry as he expected her to be, a ghost of a smile playing around her mouth as she talked to Steve. The policeman grinned at him, his eyes warm and reassuring

‘
Must feel good to be back home, aye?’ Satisfied with James’s jerky nod, Steve continued. ‘I had a talk with your mom here, James. Told her all about it, so get ready for some trouble, young man. But, she agrees with me that you need more than a scolding to get you back on your feet. I also told her about the Big Brother program we’re running at the community center for boys like you. I volunteer there myself, twice a week. So we agreed that if you’re interested, it could be a good way to meet some other people and have fun without running around with gangs, James. What do you say?’

‘
I don’t know anyone there.’ His voice was barely more than a whisper, as he looked down at the pattern of the worn linoleum covering the floor. ‘Who would want to be my Big Brother anyway?’

‘
Well, you’re in luck today.’ Wrinkles forming around his eyes, the policeman smiled at him again, his gaze gentle. ‘My little brother has just moved away, and so I’ve got an opening for a new kid to mentor. What do you say if we try to become friends, James? ‘

They had become great friends, Steve’s guidance and never-ending supply of good will and patience turning his life from negative to positive in a span of mere weeks. He came to wait for the twice-a-week meetings, looking forward to their talks and projects that kept him busy and purposeful. Eventually, he had barely remembered the time when joining the local gang had any appeal at all. Steve became a father figure he had never had, spurring him on to achieve more and reach for things he had never considered before. He had to credit him with his improved marks at school, his ambition awakened since the moment he noticed the pride his mentor took in his accomplishments.

He never forgot Steve’s fatherly pride when James was accepted into a university with a scholarship that covered most of the tuition fees. The fact that soon afterwards the letter from his father had arrived, and he found himself owning more money than he could have ever dreamed of, didn’t change the fact that it was Steve who had helped him to achieve the unobtainable.

Even when Steve became involved with a lovely widow who ran a restaurant on the outskirts of London, he never neglected their meetings, religiously devoted to bringing James to his full potential. They saw each other less, since James had to tie the loose ends involving his biological father’s will, which involved flying to Egypt and meeting his family for the first time. His father’s untimely death in a car accident that also claimed the life of his wife, Aisha, put an end to the bloodline, their marriage childless. After his emotional meeting with his grandparents and aunts, he had decided to pursue his education in the United States, opting for more distance between himself and the people he wasn’t ready to fully accept. Years of Steve’s company had definitely shaped his outlook on the world and people; his initial anger and disappointment mellowed to a vague promise to stay in touch with his Arabic family and to take over some of the responsibilities of his father once he finished his degree.

Steve’s unexpected and rather hasty marriage to the lovely widow caught him by surprise, the spontaneous gesture nothing like the rather steady, slow character he was used to in the years of their friendship. It happened in a matter of months, his total devotion to Marlene prompting him to snatch her from the market before she could change her mind, as he put it in a rather awkward, apologetic letter to James.

Not that he held it against his mentor at all, happy to see him finally settled and in love, having long ago given up the hope that there could be something between him and his mom. It simply wasn’t meant to be, he realized. Still, he couldn’t help feeling rather disappointed, as much as he tried to push the selfish feeling aside. Attending the wedding was out of the question, he decided, his memories of his mom and Steve chatting and having fun together still etched deeply into his brain. It would have felt like some kind of betrayal, even though there was no reason whatsoever to feel that way. He knew that his mother cared for Steve more deeply than she would ever let on, her emotions buried deep and hidden behind a protective wall of indifference.

His newfound fortune allowed him to not only choose his education in the States, but also helped his mother to start a new life on the continent, her dream of becoming an artist fulfilled. He arranged for her to finally finish her degree at the Institute of Art in California, putting as many miles as possible between her and Steve with his new wife.

It seemed to work beautifully for a while. His mother blossomed in the new environment, and so did he, the years at Harvard some of the best of his life. He stayed in touch with Steve, even though their sporadic phone calls and greeting cards seemed to be dying off more and more with each passing month. He was in his third year of business school, flying through the program with an almost offensive ease, when he had received a phone call from one of Steve’s friends that changed his life forever.

Steve was in the hospital, fighting for his life. Shocked and numb, James listened to the friend explain about the unexpected accident that had almost claimed Steve’s life a few days before. James’s name popped up in some of his personal papers, prompting the call to inform him about what happened. But what did really happen? The story was becoming more and more confusing as he tried to make sense of the tragedy he couldn’t comprehend. Why was Steve living alone again? The last time they spoke, he was happily telling James about his wife and two stepdaughters he adored. True, it had been a few months before, the longer-than-usual pause in their conversation something that had escaped his attention as he worked on his thesis. He had promised Steve to finally visit and meet his family, something that they had put off for the longest time. Unspoken, they had both agreed not to talk about the topic too much; Steve’s reluctance to go into details was something he respected.

The phone call came from his friend, describing his last few weeks as spent in a rented apartment, the morbid details of his existence emerging as he read between the sparse lines of their conversation.

Needless to say, he was on the next plane to England, praying to all the gods to be able to make any difference as he arrived. The truth that waited for him hit him like a full-blown hurricane, leaving him speechless and disbelieving. Steve had tried to take his own life, using the gun that had been his ever since he had joined the police force three decades before. His stepdaughter had found him when she visited his place, her emergency call alarming the paramedics.

The question of what exactly happened remained unanswered for the next few days, as James tried to put two and two together. His first major breakthrough came as he realized that neither Steve’s wife nor his other stepdaughter had bothered to as much as come and see him in the weeks following the mishap. Whatever happened between Steve and Marlene, it had to be important enough to make her cut off any ties to the man who had been her husband for over a year.

Treading on delicate ground, James collected pieces of the puzzle, the picture that emerged even more dark and frightening than he had expected. Steve remained unconscious, his large, lifeless frame perfectly still in the hospital bed. Since he wasn’t related, he had no way to find out anything of importance from the doctors or social workers involved in the case. One of Steve’s old buddies, who remembered him from the earliest days of their friendship, had finally broken the code of silence and provided him with the much-needed explanation of what exactly had gone wrong to push Steve to the desperate step he had taken.

James listened in disbelief as he heard about the accusations that Steve had to deal with in the last few weeks of his life. Apparently his marriage fell apart after he was accused of sexually molesting one of his stepdaughters, an accusation so impossible and insane that James had to hear it twice to allow the information to sink in. Since there was no viable proof of the accusation, except for the testimony of the shaken girl, the case had been dismissed after an initial investigation found enough holes in her statement to discard it as a lie. It didn’t change the way his wife saw him, however, her definite refusal to listen to his reasoning and her request for divorce sending him down the spiral of desperation and self-destruction.

Steve died two weeks after James’s arrival, alone in the middle of the night. Arriving the next morning, James was greeted with the sight of the perfectly made bed, his whole body cold as he searched for a nurse to confirm the obvious. It was just before Christmas, a large lit tree decorating the hospital lobby while the sound of carols played in the background. He remembered standing there, listening to the solemn choir singing
Silent Night
, people coming and going as he waited for the papers to be filled out by the physician.

Steve had no family, his ex-wife’s strict refusal to have anything to do with him after the incident making it an awkward situation for all involved. He was insured, and the police force where he spent most of his life was eager to provide him with that last service. James talked to many of his colleagues, too numb and shaken to do much more than shake their hands and exchange small pleasantries that didn’t mean anything. The funeral was a somber affair, the small group gathered at the cemetery shivering in a snowstorm that dusted the graves with a pure white coating of the first snow of the year. And standing there, watching the coffin lowered into the frozen, barren earth, James couldn’t help but wonder what kind of a person would abandon her husband so completely and irrevocably as his wife had. Especially after he had been cleared of the accusations, his only mistake was being an object of the wrath of her daughter.

James had seen the other stepdaughter a few times, her hospital visits something that he had come to expect and actually look forward to. Maybe if he talked to her, she could shed some light on the confusion that accompanied him from the moment he touched the soil of the Heathrow airport. But she stopped coming and wasn’t present at the funeral, either. Which was just as well, he thought, biting his teeth together as he heard the dull sound of clumps of soil hitting the coffin. What was done was done, no amount of remorse able to erase the injustice done to the most righteous man he had ever known. He would never forget, he vowed silently, shaking off the snowflakes accumulating on his jacket. Never, for as long as he lived.

‘
Sophie, I have to say good bye for now, really.’ Emily hoped she sounded calmer than she felt. She put down the receiver, breathing a sigh of relief as she allowed her eyes to travel around her living room, the familiarity of its cream-colored walls and dark furniture soothing her high-strung nerves. Dealing with Peter at the restaurant hadn’t been easy, and even though she managed to convince him to leave without causing a scene, the disaster remained ready to strike at any moment. The rest of the brunch had passed in a flurry of activity, her preoccupation with the hostess part of the gathering offering her much-needed reprieve. She hadn’t seen James much, thank God, she thought as she walked over to the kitchen, planning on a cup of herbal tea to help her get to sleep.

Sophie and her fiancé were surrounded by a circle of well-wishers for most of the party, allowing Emily to disappear discreetly into the background. Which was just as well, after the horrible fiasco with James witnessing her rather less than flattering description of their relationship. For a moment she worried he might confront her on the topic as she bade them a hasty good bye, but he didn’t as much as hint at the unfortunate moment in the kitchen. Instead he chatted pleasantly with other people, only a quick glance of his dark eyes reminding her that yes, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

She would explain it to him, given the opportunity, tell him that she had to say something to stop Peter from charging into the room and demanding answers. Maybe even share the worries about Marlene, keeping it simple and without going into too much detail. After all, he didn’t need to know everything, did he?

Still, she didn’t have to do any of above, her relief as she closed the door and rushed to the car making her want to skip and sing.

The day was over, and the cloak of the velvety night enveloped her with its soothing softness. She leaned out her window, watching the night sky dotted with myriads of tiny, flickering stars and sighed a sigh of content. It had stopped raining, the heavy downpour from only moments ago turning to peaceful silence. They were lucky to have had gorgeous weather for most of the day, only the late afternoon threatening them with gathering, dark clouds and gusts of wind banging the shutters on the restaurant. By then, the brunch was long over, and the weather didn’t really matter to any of them. Thank goodness, she hadn’t let Marlene talk her into staying over at the house, however tempting it seemed. Here, within her four walls she was free to be herself and dream.

Sophie was walking on clouds, her phone call consisting mostly of a detailed description of James’s attributes. The good part was that it kept her busy enough to allow Emily to remain silent, barely squeezing a word here and there into a monologue that kept flowing without any interruption for at least a quarter of an hour.