Echoes in the Dark. Gayle Wilson

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СКАЧАТЬ know what the doctors said,” Julien interrupted. He allowed himself to ask only when the angry voice had been silent a long time, “And when she knew?”

      “She left. She left the note on your bed, in an envelope with my name on it. She couldn’t live with what she’d done. She couldn’t live with you as you were going to be. As soon as you came out of the coma, she realized that you were going to live, to know what she’d done. I could have killed her, Julien. I swear if I’d found her, I would have. The damned coward did what she did and then left you to—”

      “So you let me believe she died?” the passionless voice interrupted again.

      “You woke up convinced she was dead. All your questions were about her death, about whether she’d suffered. The doctors were so concerned about you, not just the physical injuries, but— I didn’t know what to do, what would be kinder to do, so I just said nothing. I’m guilty of that, and I admit it. I chose to let you believe that she died, rather than to know that she blinded you, killed your son and then walked away. All those months I watched you struggle through the pain, I hated her. I never tried to find her because I knew I’d kill her. I could kill her now.”

      He could hear the conviction in the quiet voice.

      “Do you swear to me that this is, at last, the truth? Do you swear it, Andre?”

      “It’s the truth. Why would I lie to you after all this time? Perhaps I made the wrong decisions, but at least I tried. At least, I didn’t run away.” Seeing the pain in his brother’s dark face, Andre whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

      Julien took a deep breath, forcing himself to calmness. “I think it’s best that we don’t talk about this again. It’s very painful for me, Andre. I hope that what’s been revealed today won’t be mentioned again. Will you agree to that?”

      “Of course. I’ll do whatever you want. I never intended to hurt you more. You were already—”

      “I know. Let it go. There’s nothing you can do after all these years. Let me learn to deal with this. It’s simply a different ending to an old story. Now if you’ll forgive me...” The words were polite dismissal, and in spite of so many things he wanted to say, Andre was forced to recognize that what had been said was enough for the moment, all that the man who sat so calmly in his prison of darkness could deal with, and so he left.

      When the door closed, Julien rose and went to stand by the window. He removed the dark glasses and raised his face into the warmth of the sun, trying to think about what he needed to do, and none of the possibilities were pleasant.

      * * *

      THE INTERVIEW HAD GONE more easily than she had anticipated. The elegant and expensive office had intimidated her at the beginning, but the lawyer had been very kind. He had gone over her résumé with polite interest, not even glancing at the letters of reference she’d handed him. She had been sure that she wouldn’t be called in when she had seen the mob in the outer room. The women waiting there had looked as formidable as the suite of offices they all had been asked to come to for the interviews.

      She had dressed carefully, but her suit was not of the same quality that several of the applicants who had entered his inner sanctum before her had worn. However, he had never even glanced at her suit or the carefully polished shoes, her only pair of real leather ones. He had been far more interested in her background, in whom she had worked for and her education. Her limited schooling was another weak point she had attempted to present in as strong a light as was possible. Then he had asked the question she had dreaded from the beginning.

      “There’s a time period here that is unaccounted for professionally, Ms. Evans. If there’s a problem, then it is far better to let us know now than to have it turn up in our later investigations. The truth is always better coming from your own lips,” he said gently, like her grandfather.

      She smiled at the sudden mental comparison to the old man who had instilled in her his values. He had tried so hard to make her whole, to repair the ravages of her parents’ failures. He had given her the only home she had ever known, a sanctuary from that pain in the small, peaceful village he had taken her to. Simply thinking about him gave her courage, so she was able to answer calmly, “A problem? As if I were dismissed for failing in some way to satisfy my employer? That sort of problem? Then, no, I assure you that’s not the explanation.”

      “And?” he said, waiting.

      She should have known she wouldn’t be able to fob him off. The gray eyes were also, like her grandfather’s, far too shrewd. She had never been able to hide from the old man’s keen insight. He had seen into the depths of her soul. If only he had been there when she finally came out of the long darkness, she thought again with regret.

      “I was ill. For a long time. An illness caused by depression.”

      The lawyer spoke only when it was evident she had nothing else to add. “I’m sorry. I didn’t intend to bring back unpleasant memories. I apologize for forcing you to talk about that time.”

      “It’s all right. There are no unpleasant memories of ‘that time.’ No memories at all—” She stopped, and then tried to explain the unexplainable. “Whatever caused the depression, whatever trauma, I’ve forgotten. Blocked or repressed it, the doctors said.”

      “You’ve never remembered?” he asked softly, wondering if this was the key to what he had been ordered to do.

      “My childhood. Growing up.” She paused, the bleakness of the memories that had returned affirming that the ones her mind still denied must be much worse. She continued finally, telling him a truth she never talked about. “Then...” she whispered, “there’s just a void. Whatever happened to cause that blackness, I’ve never remembered, and now they believe I won’t. My mind doesn’t want me to.” She didn’t tell him about the punishing headaches that were the price she paid for trying to delve into that emptiness, to find those lost memories.

      Instead, she forced herself to speak more strongly, with a confidence she was far from feeling. “As you can see, that was a long time ago. All my references are since that period. My amnesia doesn’t affect my work. It’s better, perhaps, that I can’t remember whatever happened.”

      “I’m sorry,” he said again, and she thought that he did regret forcing the painful admission.

      “I’ve learned to expect the question. Some interviewers assume...all sorts of things. Being fired and wishing to hide it is only one of the scenarios they imagine.”

      “Have you had so many interviews? Your skills seem more than adequate.”

      “No one seems to need a permanent bilingual secretary whose skills are, by today’s standards, as we both know, merely adequate. The larger corporations are looking for someone whose training covers a broader range of computer knowledge. My training was of a different sort.”

      “Yet it seems very suited to the position we have in mind. Not one of the other applicants I’ve seen today has a Swiss finishing school in her background.”

      “I spent five years there. Not that it’s done me much good,” she admitted, smiling. “Most people think that only means I’m qualified to be some minor diplomat’s wife and not much else.”

      “Or someone’s social secretary,” he suggested, and she knew then he was seriously considering her for the position. She dared, for СКАЧАТЬ