The Black Swan

“I wasn’t trying to pretend anything. Of course I’m not indifferent. They thought he was dead. It’s wonderful that he isn’t... and is coming home.” She nodded and I could see that she was contemplating all sorts of possibilities. So, in fact, was I. My thoughts were in a turmoil as they had been ever since I had read that paragraph. I was longing to see Joel and I was more than a little afraid. Another day passed. Celeste was certainly pleased to have us there. Her trouble was loneliness. Belinda was amazingly unperturbed about her affairs. She had clearly convinced herself that everything would soon be in order; as for Bobby, I think he was a little bewildered but was clearly still deeply in love with Belinda and certainly thrilled at the prospect of the baby.

I admired Belinda in a way. I wished I could bring the same attitude to my affairs that she did to hers.

I constantly scanned the papers for news. There was none.

Belinda said she wanted to do some shopping while she was in town. “It’s for the baby,” she explained. “Lucie, I want you to come with me.” So I went with her. She shopped as much for herself as the baby; and when we returned home, I thought Celeste looked a little excited.

When I was alone with her, she said, “Joel has been here. He’s very upset.”

“He came to see me?” I asked.

“Yes. His parents had told him that you were married but he thought he must have the news from you. When I told him that you were actually in London, he asked a lot of questions. He looked different, Lucie... older.”

“I suppose we all do, and what happened is bound to have affected him.”

“He knew about your father, of course. He said he must get in touch with you.” She looked at me anxiously.

“I suppose he would want to talk,” I said.

“He left a note for you.”

“A note? Where is it?”

“I have it here.”

She put her hand into the pocket of her dress and brought it out almost reluctantly.

I seized on it.

“Thank you, Celeste.”

I had to get away to discover what he had written. I went up to my room, sat on the bed and slit the envelope.

“Dear Lucie,” I read,

I want to see you. I could not believe that you are married. My parents told me first. They explained so much. But I have to see you soon. Could we meet tomorrow? Shall we say by the Round Pond in Kensington Gardens at half past ten? Do come. I shall be there.

Joel

I must go, of course. I had to see him. I had to explain. It was hard to live through the rest of the day. Time passed with maddening slowness. I was thankful that Belinda was so self-absorbed that she did not notice my mood.

The night which followed was a restless one for me; but it passed, and then I was walking across the Gardens to the Round Pond where Joel and I had met so often during our childhood. That was why it must have occurred to him that we should meet there. It was a bright day. Several children were sailing their little white boats on the Pond while vigilant nannies stood by.

And there was Joel. He had seen me and was striding toward me. He put his arms about me and held me close to him for a few seconds. Then he released me and looked into my face, I saw the anguish in his eyes and it matched my own. He took me by the elbows and continued to gaze at me.

“Lucie ...” he began.

“Oh, Joel,” I said. “I never thought to see you again.”

I knew then what a mistake I had made. I knew that he was and always would be the only one I really loved. I knew that I would never be really happy again. His eyes darkened as he muttered, “How could you?”

“I have to explain.”

“Let’s get away from here. Let’s find somewhere quiet where we can talk.” He took my arm and we walked rapidly away from the Pond toward the path where flowers grew on either side. We turned off to a patch of grass. There was a seat under one of the trees and he led me to it.

When we were seated he turned to me and said, “How could it have happened?”

“They told me you were dead,” I answered. “It was unbearable... after my father ...”

“I know what happened to your father... and then they told you... what did they tell you?”

“That you had been set upon by thieves after you left a meeting and were on your way to your hotel. You were missing, they said. And after a time we heard that your body had been discovered. You had been murdered, they said, you and James Hunter.”

“They should have told you the truth,” he said. “I would not have undertaken it if I had known they would not tell you.”

“The truth?” I cried.

He said, “It is true that I went out on this mission with my fellow Members of Parliament.