Of course, these were the sorts of things one never realized until it was too late. I had accepted our life the way it was, and even if I didn’t like the distance between us, at least I knew that he wasn’t in the military, had not been shipped to the front lines like so many other men his age. I had not suspected that he was in any immediate danger…

  If anything, his death taught me that it was unwise to take life for granted, for it could end in an instant.

  I grabbed the box and got to my feet, lifting it off the ground.

  It would likely take a great deal of time before I was able to go through its contents again. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be able to stomach digging through it all. I couldn’t bear the pain it caused, the loss that was so stark whenever I looked at it.

  I carried the box up to the attic, my heart heavy with every step.

  “I hope you can forgive me, Roger…” I said as I held the box tightly against myself, almost as if I could hug him the same way. “I am not doing this to forget you. I just cannot bear seeing these things that we shared, things from a time in my life when you were still alive. It hurts me too much, and I just miss you so terribly.”

  I looked around the attic, all among my aunt’s odds and ends that I knew I still must sort through at some point in time. I searched for a place that would be honoring. Someplace that wouldn’t make me feel horribly guilty about leaving his things up here.

  I found a spot tucked away in the back of the room. It was beside the window, and I hoped that in the afternoon the sun would just be able to reach it.

  Roger had loved the sunshine.

  I made my way back to the narrow ladder to the attic, turning once more to look over my shoulder at the box.

  Something about moving it up here felt so final to me. But what choice did I have? I couldn’t spend my days weeping over his things. That was no way to live, and I knew for certain that it would not be very conducive to future happiness for me to continue in that way.

  As I descended the ladder and closed the door above my head, I was plagued by restless frustration. The answers I sought about my husband’s death, about his life…I was certain I would never find them.

  The truth was elusive to me, in all areas of my life. Where I wanted stark black and white answers, everything was made of shades of grey. Would anything ever be clear again?

  13

  Knock, knock, knock!

  My ears perked up at the new sound.

  For a moment, just a brief moment, my imagination got away from me, and I forgot where I was. I wondered…I hoped…that it might be Roger.

  As soon as the thought passed through my head, however, I knew how foolish it was.

  Knock, knock, knock!

  I realized that the knocking was indeed real, and that someone downstairs was looking for me.

  I hurried down the stairs to the shop.

  A man stood on the other side of the glass-fronted door, looking around at my garden. There was something large and wooden in his hands.

  My heart skipped as I dashed over to the door, unlocking it as quickly as I could. “Mr. Mason,” I said, smiling up at him politely. “What a pleasant surprise.”

  Sidney turned at my greeting, his red hair like shining copper in the beams of sunlight peeking through gaps in the clouds overhead. He grinned, his green eyes merry. “Well, good afternoon, Helen. How are you?”

  As soon as the words had left him, though, a look of concern passed over his face.

  “Have you been crying?” he asked.

  I had gotten a bit weepy while putting Rodger’s things away in the attic but I didn’t want to admit that. Instead, I looked down at my shoes, shaking my head. “I’m fine, it’s nothing, really – ”

  “You have,” he said. He shifted the wooden box in his arms to the side so he could peer at me more closely. “Whatever has happened?”

  I shook my head again. “I’m fine, just doing a bit of cleaning, and – ”

  He brushed past me into the shop, hefting the box and carrying it to the back. He set it down on the counter beside the till.

  “I see you fixed my jewelry display box,” I said, hoping to deter him from asking any further questions. “I really do appreciate you being willing to take it so last minute.”

  He shrugged. “It was my pleasure,” he said in his rich accent. “I am always happy to help. I just replaced one of the hinges inside, and sanded down one of these drawers to make sure it fit just a bit better. No trouble at all. But what is distressing you? If anyone has upset you, I’ll wring his neck myself.”

  His kindness lessened the ache in my heart slightly. “It…” I said.

  I realized that most of the pain of the last few weeks had been because I was unwilling to discuss things. Irene was aware of some of my troubles, but she was the only one. And I greatly appreciated her willingness to listen. I couldn’t burden anyone else with my sorrows…could I?

  “It’s alright,” he said. “You can trust me. I realize we don’t know each other that well yet, but we are to be neighbors, aren’t we? And neighbors that cannot help one another are no good to each other.”

  I sniffed, my eyes stinging again as I tried to fight back the sadness that lurked beneath the surface. “What have I done for you?” I asked. “You have fixed my laundry line, my jewelry box, and the lock on my back door…and I have done nothing to help you.”

  “Well, if it’s a job you want, then I could certainly use some new buttons on my best jacket,” Sidney said with a broad grin. “Preferably in black.”

  “I would be happy to,” I said. “Just bring the jacket by as soon as you want, and I will – ”

  “I was joking with you, Miss Helen,” Sidney said with a laugh. “Friendship doesn’t need to be about repaying debts, or something like that. I am the type of man who enjoys helping those in need, and it has been a joy to be able to serve you.”

  I bowed my head. “I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry, Mr. Mason. I didn’t mean to offend.”

  “Sidney, if you please,” he said with a warm smile. “And you did no such thing. Now…why was it that you were crying when I interrupted you?”

  I realized in that moment that I was quite tired of bottling things up the way I was.

  “I was just…well, to be quite honest, I was missing my late husband. I was going through a box of his things, and – ” I didn’t know how to finish that statement without bursting into tears.

  “You need not say more,” he said, his voice soft and warm. “I’m terribly sorry you have had to endure such a loss. I cannot imagine the strength you have had to find in order to continue.”

  “It certainly has not been easy,” I said.

  “How long ago did he pass away?” Sidney asked, leaning against the counter, folding his arms.

  “This past February,” I said. “It was an air raid.”

  Sidney’s eyes widened, and for some reason, seeing the shock in his face made me feel somewhat better. For a brief moment, I wasn’t alone in my suffering.

  “I wish I knew what to say…” he said, his gaze suddenly distant. “I may not have lost a spouse, but my brother-in-law was killed in this war. He was in the navy.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss as well,” I said, and I hoped he realized that I meant it.

  “Did something remind you of your husband today?” Sidney asked. “Or was it some sort of special day for you?”

  “I have just been suffering with the grief from multiple deaths in my life,” I said. “My aunt, the one who used to own this shop, in fact, she died right around the same time as my husband, and I…well, I just learned some rather distressing details about her death that I wish I never discovered in the first place.”

  Sidney’s face softened with concern. “That sounds terrible. What have you discovered?”

  “Well, she was found here, dead, after what seems to be a rather gruesome accident,” I said, my eyes unconsciously moving toward the spot on the floor where I imagined her body had been sprawled.

  Sidney followed my gaze, and I wondered if he expected to find evidence of the accident somewhere nearby.

  “I can see why you would be so unsettled,” he said. “The thought of someone passing away in a home that you live in now is certainly troubling.”

  “You have no idea…” I said, sinking into one of the chairs behind the counter. I didn’t have the strength to stand any longer. My legs weak, and my throat dry, I did my best to appear as calm and collected as possible. “I am learning to live with it, though.”

  Sidney seemed fixated on the spot near the stairs. Was he able to see something I had not been able to?

  “Did your aunt own this place for a long time?” he asked.

  “I assume so,” I said. “She lived here for as long as I was aware. The shop belonged to her and my late uncle, though they divorced when I was very young.”

  “I see,” he said. “Was it always your intention to take this place when she was ready to retire? Was it in her plans all along to leave it to you?”

  My brow furrowed as I thought about his question. And what a peculiar question it was. I was assuming he would ask more about my relationship with her, or perhaps about her death. But about her passing the shop to me?

  “I don’t know, actually,” I said. “It was all a bit unexpected, but I was grateful for the chance to start over after my husband passed away.”

  “Oh, yes, that does make sense,” Sidney said. “That must have been very overwhelming for you, stepping into a role like this so suddenly.”

  I watched him carefully for a moment. What did he mean by that? “You mean my role as shopkeeper?”

  “Well, yes,” he said. “That, and your role as a widow.”

  “It wasn’t entirely foreign to me,” I said. “Being a shopkeeper, I mean. My parents have their own business, and I spent many years as a child helping them out.”

  I wasn’t quite sure, but something about his questions concerned me a little. I thought back to my aunt’s forged clothing coupons. Was it possible that she had business associates that had helped her?

  A horrible, dark thought passed through my mind.

  Sidney had moved into the house next door to mine shortly after my arrival. In truth, my aunt’s shop had not been vacant for very long, perhaps a few weeks at most. I was quite aware that news traveled quickly, but was it possible that others were vying for this property?

  I hardly knew anything about Sidney. I didn’t know where he came from, who his family was, what he did for a job…

  “Have you ever had any interest in running a shop?” I asked him.

  He said, “Oh, I would be terrible at selling. I would be far better suited in providing a shop with their products, or helping maintain them. That is where the money is to be made, you know.”

  How interesting…providing a shop with their products, hmm? And his comment about money…

  “I realize that the sorts of things I would offer wouldn’t be very exciting,” he said. “But if you wished, perhaps you and I could work out some sort of deal. If you wanted, I could pass you some small products to sell here at the haberdashery, and I would be happy to share some of the profit with you.”

  I stared up at him, confused about this sort of comment.

  Was it possible that he, like my aunt, was somehow involved in black market activities? And if he was, was it possible that he had known my aunt before she died, and was simply feigning ignorance?

  Here he was, offering me products of unknown origins to sell in my shop. He mentioned working out some sort of deal.

  “I’m sorry,” Sidney said, a smile crossing over his handsome face. “I can see that this was the wrong time to bring it up. I should have been more sensitive to your concerns right now, not attempting to do business.”

  “No,” I said, pushing those troubling thoughts aside. “It’s alright. You’ve been quite helpful, in fact, as you have helped me to forget about what was bothering me so much.”

  “Well, then,” Sidney said, clearly relieved. “I am pleased to hear it.”

  “We can certainly discuss some items to sell here,” I said. “I realize that everyone needs to make a living in these difficult times. As long as everything is above board, of course.”

  “Well, certainly,” he said, his brow furrowing. “As if I would ever chance causing trouble for you, Miss Helen. I would sooner cut off my own right arm.”

  I smiled. “Well, thank you very much, Mr. Mason, for fixing my jewelry case,” I said. “The brooches and pins I have been polishing will now have a lovely home until they are purchased by my customers.”

  “You are quite welcome,” Sidney said. “And as I have said, if you ever are in need of anything else, please do not hesitate to ask me, yes?”

  “I shall ask,” I said. “Especially since I know how reliable you are now.”

  “I am pleased to hear it,” he said.

  I walked with him to the door, noticing how easily he smiled at me, how kind he was. Was it an act? Or was he a genuine sort of man?

  As I closed the door behind him after saying goodbye, I found myself worrying.

  Aunt Vivian’s forged clothing coupons were troubling but now I had to consider the fact that they may have been the tip of the iceberg. What else might she have been involved in? Was it possible that Sidney had been Aunt Vivian’s supplier of black market goods, and now he was attempting to get close to me in the hopes that I would perhaps pick up where she left off?

  I could not be certain, and yet, at the same time, could not disprove anything either. Just like the rest of the confusing circumstances that I was surrounded by, I had yet another series of questions without answers.

  I liked Sidney, but that was also why I wasn’t sure if I should trust him. Was his overt interest in me the pursuit of a gentleman? Or was his desire to be “helpful” nothing more than seeking out his next business venture?

  His curious questions and his interest in my aunt’s business were certainly enough to leave me suspicious of him…

  Just as I was of everyone else in this strange little village.

  14

  I was determined to learn the truth.

  I didn’t care what lengths I would have to go to. I needed to know what was happening, what had happened, and who I could trust. More than anything, I wanted peace of mind about this new life that I had chosen for myself.

  All of my concerns in this town were tied to my aunt and her place in the community. Her relationships, her business, her perceptions of both.

  Everything that she had owned was still inside these four walls. Furniture that I had gotten rid of as well as old and broken items would not be telling the story I was looking for.

  No. The puzzle pieces of this story that I was trying so hard to put together were likely tucked away in the attic. It meant I was going to have to go back through my aunt’s belongings, likely weeding through mostly useless items in the hopes of finding the few things that might help me make sense of everything that was going on around me.

  I knew this was going to take hours. Days, even.

  And so I began. I knew that I would likely be sacrificing business, as well as incurring the wrath of some of the more loyal customer base I had started to build, but I couldn’t be bothered about that. It wasn’t as important to me right now as sorting all of this out.

  When I learned the truth…and I certainly would learn the truth…then I could breathe easier. I was concerned that I would not be able to rest until then.

  I began to look through every box, every book on the shelves, every drawer of every piece of furniture. I left nothing to chance. I realized it could be the smallest piece of paper that would reveal the answers I sought. I knew how crazy this would seem to anyone outside of my own head, but I didn’t care. I was going to get to the bottom of this…even if that meant finding the truth at the bottom of the barrel.

  I started in the shop. I pulled every item out, looked in all the books for notes or forgotten letters. I found a book of receipts tucked away in the very back of the cupboard behind the counter. I checked every single page, but found nothing of value. Nothing that proved anything.

  The next day, I started tearing apart my flat. I looked through her books, behind the appliances for anything that might have fallen. I even pulled the cushions from the furniture and checked inside their zippered cases for hidden letters or notes.

  I was empty handed at the end of that day, as well.

  Then I moved to the attic. There had to be almost a hundred boxes stacked inside, all throughout the dark, humid space. But I was determined.

  I gave Roger’s box in the far corner a sidelong look, but forced myself not to dwell on it. I needed my wits about me, and giving in to sorrow was the last thing I needed.

  I carried box after box downstairs until the whole sitting room was filled with them, some even stacked up toward the ceiling.

  I stared around, somewhat dismayed. This was going to take forever.

  I half considered reaching out to Irene, to ask for her help with this, but I feared involving her in this mess any further. I wasn’t convinced that Sam Graves hadn’t figured out who it was that had told me about the night of my aunt’s death, and if he did, then it was only a matter of time before he tracked it back to Irene.

  I sighed heavily, and went to make myself some tea before I began tackling the boxes.

  It was still somewhat troubling, thinking about going through the belongings of a dead woman. It felt wrong, examining her personal things as closely as I was. It was necessary, though, and I forced myself to keep going.

  I found a strange myriad of things. I had suspected that my aunt was a curious lady, but when I stumbled upon a stack of books about Gaelic myths, I began to wonder how sane she might have been. It didn’t end there, though. I also stumbled upon a collection of handmade dolls with dead, beady eyes and vacant expressions.

  Those ended up outside in the back garden with the intentions of giving them to Sidney Mason, in the hopes that he could find a use for the materials they were made out of.

 

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