“It’s a bloody unfortunate coincidence for George Harris to blunder onto this grave,” he said. “I told him to keep it quiet, and I trust you will do the same. I don’t want your mother to find out about this. It’ll put her in a tailspin. She’ll be sick for a month.”
“There’s no reason for me to tell anyone,” Kim said.
“Frankly I’m surprised that it is here,” John said. “I’d been told that Elizabeth had been buried in a common grave someplace west of Salem center. What about this stranger you have here? Does he know about the grave?”
“Edward is not a stranger,” Kim said. “And yes, he knows about the grave. He even knows about Elizabeth.”
“I thought we had an understanding that you wouldn’t be telling people about Elizabeth,” John said.
“I didn’t tell him,” Kim said. “Stanton Lewis did.”
“God damn your mother’s side of the family,” John mumbled as he turned around and walked back to where Edward was patiently waiting.
“The story of Elizabeth Stewart is privileged information,” John said to Edward. “I hope you will respect that.”
“I understand,” Edward said evasively. He wondered what John would say if he knew about the head in the car.
Seemingly satisfied, John diverted his attention to the cottage. At Kim’s suggestion he deigned to look briefly at the construction. It was a quick tour. Back outside he hesitated as he was about to leave. Looking at Edward he said, “Kim’s a fine, sensible girl. She’s very warm and loving.”
“I think so too,” Edward said.
John got into his car and drove off. Kim watched him until the car disappeared in the trees. “He has such an uncanny ability to irritate me,” Kim fumed. “The problem is he doesn’t even realize how belittling it is to be treated like a teenager and called a girl.”
“At least he was being complimentary,” Edward said.
“Complimentary my foot!” Kim said. “That was a self-serving comment. It was his way of trying to take credit for the way I’ve turned out. But he had nothing to do with it. He was never there for me. He has no clue that being a real father or husband is a lot more than providing food and shelter.”
Edward put his arm around Kim’s shoulder. “It’s not going to accomplish anything to get yourself all worked up about it now,” he said.
Kim abruptly turned to Edward. “I had an idea last night,” she said. “What about you moving into the cottage with me come September first?”
Edward stumbled over his words. His stutter reappeared. “That’s very generous,” he managed to say.
“I think it is a wonderful idea,” Kim said. “This place has more than enough space, and you have to find a new apartment anyway. What do you say?”
“Thank you,” Edward stammered. “I don’t know quite what to say. Maybe we should talk about it.”
“Talk about it?” Kim questioned. She’d not expected to be rejected. Flowers from Edward were still arriving at her apartment on a daily basis.
“I’m just afraid you are inviting me impulsively,” Edward explained. “I guess I’m afraid you’ll change your mind and then not know how to disinvite me.”
“Is that really your reason for feeling reluctant?” Kim asked. She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a hug. “Okay,” she added. “We can talk about it. But I’m not going to change my mind.”
Later, when they had exhausted discussing the renovation, Kim asked Edward if he’d be willing to spend a little time up at the castle going through the old papers. She explained that his comment the previous evening about discovering the nature of the evidence used against Elizabeth had given her a renewed impetus. Edward said he didn’t mind in the slightest and that he was happy to accompany her.
Arriving at the castle, Kim suggested they try the attic instead of the wine cellar. Edward was initially agreeable, but when they got up there, they discovered it was extremely hot. Even after opening the dormer windows, it was still uncomfortable. Edward quickly lost interest.
“Why do I have the feeling you’re not enjoying this?” Kim said. Edward had taken a drawer over to the window, but instead of searching through it, he was staring outside.