Part Two

She Said

In accordance with her part of the plan, Honey had lured Mart down to the lake for some time together the morning after their date. They sat in the shallows at the edge of the water, the branches of a weeping willow casting dappled shade over them. Honey had just come from the Manor House, where she had just received some good news.

“I’m so happy for Tom and Celia,” she confided, with a contented sigh. “I just love babies.”

Mart did not immediately give a verbal answer, but continued to run his fingers up and down her back. “It sounds like they’re very happy to be expecting,” he finally answered.

Honey snuggled in before continuing. “Sometimes I think I’d like a baby of my own right away. It would be kind of nice to skip over all the studying and slaving away and get to the things I’d really like to do with my life. I wonder whether my father would be angry if I told him I was giving up college to have a baby.”

“What?” Mart spluttered, with an effeminate squeak. The waters splashed as he half-fell backwards. “Angry? Honey, you’ve got to be kidding! Angry wouldn’t even begin to cover it. He’d be furious… outraged… apoplectic, even! It’s doubtful whether he’d even survive that sort of news. He’d probably keel over with a stroke, or a heart attack. And if you’ve got any idea of me being involved with this crazy scheme, you’d better think again. If your father did survive the shock, you can be sure that I wouldn’t!”

His girlfriend was overcome with a fit of uncontrollable giggles, causing him to pause in his tirade. “Please! Calm down!” she finally managed. “I wasn’t really thinking of doing that. It’s just kind of a dream.”

“A dream? More like a nightmare. Don’t scare me like that. I don’t think I can stand the strain.” He ran an agitated hand through his hair, then visibly forced himself to relax. To Honey’s satisfaction, his hand settled on her body and he started tracing circles with his thumb. When he spoke, his voice was closer to its usual tone. “Are you planning on having a lot of kids?”

“You sound worried,” she teased, before turning serious. “Not a whole lot. Maybe two or three. I’m planning on finishing college, then getting married when I’m about twenty-two or -three, then I’ll spend a couple of years building up my career before I have my first baby at about twenty-five or -six, the second two years later, and if there’s going to be a third one, another two years after that, so that I’m finished before thirty, or at least while I’m still thirty, because I don’t think it’s such a good idea to be too old when you’re having babies, don’t you?”

“Uh, I guess that sounds like a good plan,” he answered, still looking worried.

“Don’t you want kids of your own, Mart?” she asked, frowning.

He seemed surprised at the question. “I haven’t given it much thought,” he admitted. “I guess I’d like some someday – maybe in fifteen years from now.”

She felt her mouth dropped open. “You’ll be thirty-five in fifteen years’ time. Don’t you think that’s rather long to wait?”

“Well, ten years, then. A long time from now. I don’t need to be thinking about that now – I have so much else to do before then.”

Honey fell silent, wondering whether to say anything more or to let the subject drop. Mart’s reaction to the idea was not what she had been hoping for. Mild surprise, I could have accepted, she mused. An attitude of leaving that kind of thing up to his wife would have been better. I wonder if we’re really right for each other after all? Ten years is a terribly long time. Until I’m twenty-five is long enough! Uncomfortable with what she had just learned about her boyfriend, Honey’s thoughts returned to her secret desire. In the privacy of her own head, she could admit that her plan was a compromise with herself, and that if truth be known she would rather start sooner than even wait until her mid-twenties.

Her musings were interrupted by Mart’s voice. “Knowing my family history, anyone who married me would more likely have to deal with surprise babies. I come from a long line of prolific breeders.”

His girlfriend laughed. “If you’re trying to scare me off, it’s not working.”

Mart’s hand started moving in a way that sent delightful shivers up her spine. “I wondered for a minute if you were trying to scare me off. I will manfully master my fears, however, for the sake of harmony between us.”

“Thank you, I think,” she murmured, kissing across his cheek. “I’ll bear that statement in mind the next time you have one of these panic attacks.”

He stopped what he was doing and looked deep into her eyes. “Can you blame me for thinking that you are enough for me? Honey, I don’t need anything, or anyone else.”

He Said

Mart set out his supplies on the desk, pausing to consider what he needed to do next. It had to be perfect, he knew, and this was not exactly his usual cup of tea. He also needed to keep out of everyone else’s way if he wanted to keep his secret. There was no telling how trustworthy the rest of the household could be in a situation like this and he wanted this to be from the heart.

He set out the sheets of paper, scissors and pencils he had gathered. The sheet of instructions came next and he scanned them through for other requirements. A few other odds and ends he pulled out of a white plastic bag and set them in rows beside the paper. That done, he frowned at the instructions for a moment. The girl from one of his classes who had given them to him had assured him repeatedly that this project was easy enough for a guy to do and that Honey could not fail to love it. Resolving to put aside his doubts, Mart put his mind to the task at hand. He was just about to start tracing out the required shape when a glint of light caught his eye.

What was that? he wondered, walking across to the window to see. Could that possibly be Di in that tree over there? Almost at once, he saw that it was and recognised the glint as having come from a pair of binoculars. I can’t work if I’m being spied on. How am I supposed to concentrate if someone is watching me? He twitched the curtains closed, frowning at the interruption. Turning back to his work, he discovered that he now needed the light on, if he wanted to see what he was doing. Flicking the switch on his desk lamp, he considered his situation. They won’t give up, now that they know something is going on. They’ll be here in a few minutes. With a sigh, he hid away his supplies. He would not get any more done now, but at least his secret was safe.

She Said

“Bother!” Di cried, barely above a whisper. “He’s closed the drapes, and before I’d even gotten these silly things focussed properly. Now, I can’t see a thing.”

Honey stamped her foot. “How will we find out what he’s doing in there, then?”

“I know!” Trixie caught her friends by the arms and started dragging them inside. “We’ll go upstairs and try the door. Even if we can’t see inside, we might hear enough to guess what he’s up to.”

A worried frown creased Honey’s face. “Won’t your mother see us?”

Trixie shook her head. “When I left, she had an enormous pile of laundry to see to. She’ll be slaving over a hot iron for hours. It’ll be fine.”

Carefully, and with a little help from the two below, Di climbed down from the tree and they all raced together towards the house. Once inside, they went on tip-toes up the stairs, not wanting to alert Mart to their presence. The precaution was in vain; they met him on the stairs, wearing the most nonchalant look imaginable.

“I’ll search his room while you keep a lookout,” Trixie offered in a whisper. She darted inside the room and began poking around, looking for clues. She had not been there for more than a minute when she heard Honey greet Mart loudly. Dashing outside, she entered her own room and slumped onto the bed in frustration.

“Any luck?” Di asked in a whisper a moment later.

Disconsolate, Trixie shook her head. “Nothing. Not a single thing out of the ordinary. He must have cleaned up before we got here.”

Di looked thoughtful. “Well, at least we know it’s not anything big. I wonder what he’s up to?”

“Whatever it is, I probably don’t want to know,” Trixie answered, screwing up her nose, “but in the name of friendship, I’ll keep at him a bit longer.”

“That’s the attitude,” Di encouraged, pushing the door closed. “But, between you and me, I don’t think you have anything to worry about in that respect. I mean, it’s fun to tease Honey about it, but we both know it’s not anything like that.”

Trixie grimaced. “I sure hope you’re right. If you’re not, and we find out for her, you’ll have to pay for my therapist, ’cause I don’t think I can afford one on my own.”

He Said

Mart considered his work and decided that it was passable. He was reasonably confident that he would be able to finish the project without botching it too badly. It seemed to be lacking something, however. If I just give her this, he mused, that will take about two minutes. It needs something more to go with it, to draw out the experience. He put his mind to the matter and began to think of embellishments for the main idea.

Before long, he had a location in mind and some other associated side-details. He was feeling a little hungry, however, and adjourned to the kitchen for a snack while he thought it through. A memory of their anniversary came to his mind and he examined it carefully.

It was kind of disappointing, he thought, not to be able to find time to take her out to dinner. Their study schedules had not allowed for extended romance at that time and they had agreed to delay the celebration, but it still had not taken place. Maybe I could take her out for dinner this time. A plan began to mature in Mart’s mind and he sank into a kitchen chair to savour it. He could make it very special for Honey in several ways. Grabbing a sheet of paper and a pencil from beside the phone, he began to jot down ideas.

She Said

As she entered the kitchen with Honey and Di, Trixie could not help but notice her brother Mart surreptitiously tear the top sheet from the message block next to the phone and shove it into his pocket. Something in his face, or his stance, told her that here was a clue and she waited in breathless silence for him to get out of earshot before sharing her suspicions.

“Did you see that?” she whispered. “He was writing something and didn’t want us to see.”

Honey shook her head, obviously distracted. “Why didn’t he stay to say hello to me?” she wondered, not bothering to whisper. “Doesn’t he want to see me?”

“He’ll be back in a minute,” Di predicted. “As soon as he’s hidden the evidence.”

Trixie, meanwhile, had examined the message block and begun shading across it with a pencil to reveal what had been written on the sheet above. As the letters appeared, she huffed in frustration.

“What is it?” Honey asked, suddenly focussing on what Trixie had been doing. “Can you read what it says?”

In answer, her friend held up the finished product. Heavily scored letters proclaimed, ‘NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS, TRIXIE.’

Honey stamped her foot in frustration and slumped against the wall.

“This is ridiculous!” she cried. “All I want is to find out what he’s up to, but how can I when what he’s up to is making sure I don’t know what he’s up to when he’s doing whatever it is that he’s doing?”

“Exactly,” Trixie agreed, while Di pondered the meaning of the question. “And what right has Mart to make sure you don’t know what he’s doing when he’s doing whatever it is he’s doing when all you want is to know what he’s doing?”

“I want to make sure I know what you’re talking about,” Di interjected, “when you’re talking about making sure of things because I’m getting lost every time you start on making sure you don’t know whether he’s making sure that we don’t know what he’s doing.”

“He’s not making sure we don’t know,” Trixie corrected. “He’s making sure we don’t find out, but you knew that because you’re the one who told us that that’s what he was doing when he was doing whatever it is that he’s doing.”

“Well, can we leave out the part about him doing whatever, because that’s worse than the part about making sure,” Di wailed.

Trixie sighed in exasperation. “The only way we can do that is if we find out what he’s doing, but how can we do that when he’s making sure that we don’t–”

“Don’t!” Di grabbed Trixie by the arm to drive her point home. “Trixie, if you start on that whole making sure doing what he’s doing thing again, I think I’m going to scream. Can’t we just think of another plan?”

“What do you need a plan for?” Mart asked in feigned casual tone, while sauntering into the room. He slid an arm around Honey and bent to kiss her hello. “Are you thinking of building a house?”

Di’s eyes narrowed. “You know very well that we’re not, Martin Belden, but other than that you don’t know anything at all.”

He shrugged, laughter shining in his eyes. “In that case, why are you trying to find it out from me?”

Not finding a satisfactory answer for the question, Di sniffed and left the room, taking Trixie with her. Trixie and Honey shared a glance as they parted, Honey’s eyes expressing her frustration and disappointment.

He Said

The next morning, on his way down to the lake for an early morning swim, Jim noticed the red car parked on Glen Road once more. Even as he stood and stared at it, the driver got out and waved. From that distance, it was a little hard to make out the expression on the man’s face, but Jim was fully convinced that he wore a sinister smile. Without meaning to, he quickened his pace. The thoughts were racing around in circles in his head, and he was completely unable to stop them.

What does he know? How did he find out? What did he see? Who has he been talking to? Reaching the lake, he quickly stripped off and entered the water. As he did so, he thoughts took a more dismal turn. This can’t be happening. What if Trixie finds out about… those things? What did I do to deserve this? I can’t get out of this situation. What am I going to do? He began to swim more quickly, trying to drown out his thoughts with physical effort. Still, the litany of fears continued. What will happen to me if she knows? I promised… I can’t go back on that. If she doesn’t like what she hears…

He stopped short, panting hard. His mind rebelled against the runaway train of thought.

“It’s okay,” he told himself aloud. “I can get past this. I’ve survived this long. It will not destroy me.”

Turning towards the shore, he was startled to see the man from the red car sitting calmly on the dock, watching his every move. Furious with himself for displaying so much emotion, Jim set out for the dock. The anger was building inside him with every stroke he took. By the time he reached the shallows and stood up, he was in a thundering rage, almost ready to beat the other man to a pulp. He was about to raise himself onto the dock when his world was shaken once more.

“I think the feisty blonde might like to see this,” the man mentioned, holding up an enlarged photograph of Jim passionately embracing a certain glamour girl. “I seem to remember that she was rather jealous of this one. Or, maybe she’d like the one with the brunette better?”

“You keep away from her,” Jim threatened, feeling his face turn an ugly red. “Those are from a long time ago – that’s all over.”

Still, he reflected, breaking out in a cold sweat, it would hurt Trixie to see those – and I hope she never does. This must be the guy that old Mr. Englefield had following us… taking pictures… researching us… stalking Trixie. What I wouldn’t give to have the chance to hurt him like he’s hurt her…

“Well, if the blonde isn’t interested, maybe this girl’s Daddy might be. How old was she? Fifteen? Sixteen at most?”

The blood seemed to drain from Jim’s face. “Nothing worse happened than what’s in that photo. You have no proof of wrong-doing.”

The man shrugged. “Haven’t I? This is just a sample, really; just a taste of what I’ve got. I don’t think these are worth all that much. Some of my other material is better. Remember that.”

As Jim silently seethed, the man walked away.

She Said

“Trixie? Is that you?” her mother called, as she returned home from a morning walk. “Could you go and collect the mail for me, please? I’m expecting something important and I don’t think the box got cleared last night.”

“Sure,” she replied, turning and heading back out again.

A slight breeze was ruffling the foliage of the plants as she walked to the mailbox, cutting some of the increasing heat of the day. She was almost there when a red car sped past along Glen Road. Trixie stopped in her tracks for a moment, wondering if it was the same car she and Jim had seen previously, but it was gone too quickly to be sure. Shaking her head, she continued.

There were a number of letters in the box and she sorted them as she walked back to the house. A couple were addressed to her father and appeared to be bills, one was hand-written and addressed to her mother – this was, perhaps, the reason why she had gone on the errand – and the last was addressed to Trixie herself, but as Beatrix Frayne.

A jolt went through her when she saw it and Trixie was suddenly very glad that she was the one collecting the mail. She turned the envelope over and over in her hand, looking for clues. There was no return address, but the postmark seemed to be from Kentucky and the handwriting looked horribly familiar. Without quite knowing why, Trixie tucked the letter into her pocket before she entered the house. She left the bills on the kitchen counter, where her father would be sure to see them, and went searching for Moms.

“Is this what you wanted?” she asked, on finding her cleaning the guest room.

“Yes, thank you, Trixie,” her mother replied, smiling. “It is. Thank you for collecting it.”

Trixie brushed it off and went upstairs to her room. She idly noted that the door to her older brothers’ room was closed and wondered whether Mart was up to something in there, but decided that she really did not want to know as much as she wanted to know what was in the letter.

Inside her own room, with the door closed, she seated herself on the floor with her back to the door before carefully opening the envelope. A single sheet on notepaper inside was covered on one side with spidery handwriting. Even before she had drawn the sheet out, Trixie knew that the writer was Lucius Englefield.

Dear Mrs. Frayne, he had written. I am writing to inform you that since our encounter of last Summer, I have altered my testamentary disposition. I intend to remember you when next making such arrangements. I hope that, while you will not find the legacy a welcome one, you will not reject it outright. It is my wish that the asset in question pass to you, as you have so nimbly escaped the curse. I can only see one reason for that, so I have addressed this letter thus. Sincerely, Lucius Englefield.

When she had finished reading, a frown marred Trixie’s face. Dropping the letter in her lap, she muttered, “Now, what am I supposed to do about this?”

He Said

His project was near completion and Mart still had not come up with the perfect wording for the message of love it was intended to portray. He rubbed the back of his neck and frowned. Darling? Dearest? Sweetheart? Why, why, WHY does she have to already be called Honey by everyone? It makes it so hard to come up with an appropriate term of endearment.

With a frown, he settled for ‘Dearest’ for the moment, with the intention of coming back to it later. Now, what comes next? He thought for a second, then began to write on a scrap of paper. At the end of twenty minutes, he had covered the page in scratched-out phrases. Some of them he had written twice or three times, crossed them out to replace with something else and returned to the same wording later. Still, it did not express the full meaning of what he wanted to say.

Why is this so hard? he wondered. All I want is to tell her how much I love her, how much I want us to be together, how I hope this will last forever… A thought occurred to him and he turned the sheet over, writing only fifteen words, instead of the wordy paragraph he had composed before. Simple; to the point. I think that’s it.

He picked up another pen and adjusted his grip on it a couple of times. Glancing at the diagram in the instructions, he double-checked the place he was supposed to write and tested the pen on a scrap of paper to make sure it would not show through. It would be infuriating to mess it up now, when it was almost finished. Confident that he had the correct place, the right pen and the perfect words, Mart put pen to paper and added his message of love. When he had done that, he turned back to the instructions and completed the last few steps.

The finished product stood before him on the table. It’s flat, he thought, rather disgruntled. Only, as soon as I take my finger off it, it keeps coming undone. And there’s a piece sticking out. Is this right? Is it supposed to be so flat? He checked the instructions. I’m sure it’s not supposed to be so flat and I’m sure it’s supposed to stay shut by itself. Awkwardly, he tried to rectify the problem but did not completely succeed. He read the instructions through again and thumped himself on the forehead. Dunderhead! You missed a step.

Frowning as he did so, Mart completed the final step and smiled as his work came together the right way. A wave of apprehension washed through him. I hope she likes it, after all this. When he started the project, he had no idea how much effort it would be; it had looked such a simple little thing. If she likes it, it will have been worth it, he comforted himself.

Carefully hiding the item away, he turned his attention to his other plans. They did not seem quite good enough, yet, and he was anxious to rectify the matter as soon as possible. He ran his mind over the decisions he had already made and knew that those plans were well in hand. It needs a more… magical element, he decided. Still deep in thought, he headed for the attic, where he was sure he would find what he needed. When he descended once more, an awkward bundle in his arms, he was smiling.

She Said

All through the day, Trixie had been thinking about the letter she had received, wondering whether she should mention it to anyone, and to Jim in particular. Curiosity was burning inside her to find out what the unwelcome legacy might be, but she also could not help but hope that Mr. Englefield either never got around to making that new will, or changed his mind again and made another one before he died. From her previous experience of him she knew that whatever he left her would likely be to her detriment.

So, how would Jim react to this news? she wondered, not for the first time. Can I trust him not to go off the deep end? Will this make him more likely to want to spill the beans? She ruefully concluded that the most probable result would be to make Jim more nervous, when his nerves were already failing him. And I don’t think I can deal with that, she added to herself. He’s too wound-up already. I can’t take the risk.

She thought of the letter and its envelope, carefully hidden in her room, in a place it was unlikely that anyone would find it. It would not do for someone to stumble on it, especially since she had just decided to keep it a secret from her secret husband. She considered destroying it, but something told her that she might need it later.

I’ll just have to keep it safe, she decided. I won’t say anything to anyone, so that no one gives the game away to Jim She felt a little guilty about her decision, but pushed the feeling down, telling herself it was for the best.

So distracted was she by this momentous decision, that she almost walked straight past Mart. Some slight movement of his caught her attention, however, and she turned towards him, catching a look of dismay on his face. They were in the kitchen of Crabapple Farm and Mart was sitting at the table, recipes spread around himself and a notebook by his side.

“What are you doing?” she asked, in suspicion.

Mart, in the meantime, had regained his composure. “Not much. Just looking.”

Trixie wandered closer, inspected his selections and read what turned out to be a shopping list. “So that’s what you’re up to.” She frowned a little. “Maybe you should ask Moms for help – I’m not sure I’d attempt that one.”

“You’ve got to keep quiet about this.” Her brother pushed back his chair and stood up to face her, grasping her by both arms. “It’s a secret, Trix. Not a single word – please!”

“Fine!” she answered. “I won’t say anything to Honey. Just let go of my arms, okay? You’re hurting me.”

He relaxed his grip, but still looked at her intently. “I want it to be a surprise. Please, don’t tell her what’s happening.”

“I won’t,” she assured him. She smiled. “Actually, I haven’t really tried to find out what you were doing; I just went along with Honey and Di to keep the peace. I just knew you were planning something romantic. And, really Mart, I just don’t want to know about it.”

“Good,” he replied. “That’s how I’d like it, too.”

He Said

“Oh, Jim!” he heard his sister call, from down the hall. “I’m so glad I caught you. Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” he answered, walking in her direction. “What’s up?”

“Well, I’ve just been on the phone to Trixie and she mentioned that she and you didn’t have any specific plans for the afternoon, and I mentioned that the weather has been so shockingly sticky today, and she mentioned that she’d like a swim, and I really had to agree with her, so we thought that you and she and Mart and me – I mean, I – could do that and we can meet down at the lake in about half an hour, so we’ll see you there, Jim.” Honey waved her hand as she walked away, not even bothering to wait for his approval of the plan.

“I can’t, really,” he hedged, to her retreating back.

She turned and cast him a quizzical look. “Why not? Are you busy? Would an hour be better? Or three-quarters of an hour? Is there something I can help you with?”

He shook his head, feeling helpless. “I just don’t want to go to the lake, okay?”

His sister looked at him as if he had grown an extra head, then hurried over to see if he was running a temperature. “Are you sick, Jim? Do you need to lie down?”

The frustration and anger, which had been bubbling below the surface since his first encounter with the man in the red car, burst forth. “Can’t I express a preference without having it questioned? I said I didn’t want to go and that’s what I meant.” Seeing the hurt in her eyes, he quickly continued. “Look, I’m sorry, Honey. I didn’t mean to take my bad mood out on you. I’ll see you down at the lake sometime, but don’t wait for me, okay?”

Still looking wary, she nodded and walked slowly away. Jim mentally kicked himself for his outburst. If he had kept hold of his temper, he might have gotten away with skipping out on the gathering at the lake. As it was, he needed to appease his sister with an appearance. He began racking his brain for a way to get to the lake without passing anywhere visible from the road. After a few minutes’ thought, he had mapped out a path in his mind. Sighing wearily, he set off on the long, hot hike through the Preserve.

He was almost at his destination, a good half hour after he would have arrived had he taken the direct route, when a cleared throat alerted him to the presence of another.

“Avoiding me, are you?” asked a sarcastic voice.

Internally cursing, Jim turned to see the man who addressed him. “Of course, not,” he replied in a steady voice that was by far calmer than he felt. “You’re such pleasant company.”

The other man laughed. “I think it’s almost time for us to agree on terms, don’t you? You’ve enjoyed my services for free for long enough, now.”

Despite himself, Jim was intrigued. “Your services? I don’t think I’ve enjoyed anything from you, as yet.”

The sly grin was back. “My silence. That’s what you’ll be paying for. I’ve kept my mouth shut for a long time, now. I might need some help keeping it shut longer.”

“Maybe I could get them to sew it up for you,” Jim answered, turning and striding away.

“Soon,” the man called after him. “Remember that.”

“How can I forget?” Jim muttered.

Continue to part three.