Read Part Five First!
"Din't wanna wake ye," John said softly as he prepared to leave in the morning. He lay beside Mavis and took her into his arms. "The coffee's ready, the fire is up, and the lad is in the kitchen preparin' to burn the place down or cook the potatoes, whichever happens first. Are ye feelin' all right this mornin',. Mavis? Ye were tossin' and turnin' all night."
"I'm just fine, never you worry," she replied, kissing his cheek. "The baby was just restless. I'm up now, you go on ahead and roll Sycamore out of bed and be off with you. Have a good time with your friend, and tell him I said hello."
"I hate to do that," replied John. "He always says it back and tells me to give ye a kiss from him, but I'm not about to deliver kisses to ye from any other man. He's his own wife to kiss, if he's a mind to."
He kissed Mavis again and was out the door.
Mavis sighed and got out of bed. She removed her nightgown and surveyed her naked body in the mirror.
"Big as a house, I am," she said softly. "Hurry along, little one, before I absolutely burst! I certainly feel as if I could."
She went into the bathroom and started the shower, waited shivering for the water to warm, then stepped into the tub. When she came out, she dressed for the day and went down to see to the eggs.
Joshua was waiting in the kitchen for her. "Mornin', Miss. Are ya feelin' pert? John said ya didn't sleep well last night, so he wanted to let ya sleep in this mornin'," he said, stepping back from the stove to make room for her.
"Yes, I'm just fine, Joshua, only you don't need to keep calling me 'Miss'. I'm not your mistress, I'm only your friend, just as John is. You don't call him 'Sir', do you?"
"No, Miss--I mean, Mavis," replied Joshua, looking at his feet. His cheeks burned bright red.
Mavis was touched by the boy's discomfiture; apparently John had been correct in saying that he had a crush on her. She supposed that he would get over it once he made friends with some of the island's girls.
"Well, come ahead then, Joshua, and help me tend to breakfast. With John away, you're the man, so you go on out and check on the fire and open the door. It's the weekend, so we've a busy morning ahead of us."
After the breakfast rush had been cleaned up, Joshua made Mavis a cup of tea and had her sit by the fire. He sat beside her and the two of them discussed Mavis' plans for Christmas, which was by now only a few weeks away.
"I've been wondering what to get John for Christmas," Mavis confided. "What do you think he might like? He talks to you a lot."
"I don't know, but next time we talk, I'll see if I can find something out," Joshua promised. He tossed another log on the fire and looked closely at Mavis. "Are you all right?" he asked. "You look really tired."
"Now that you mention it, I am sort of sleepy," she admitted. "It must be the baby. Maybe I should go lie down for a---"
Mavis' head slumped forward and her breathing deepened. Joshua smiled and took her cup to the kitchen, rinsed it out, and came back into the front room. He touched Mavis' shoulder and bent close to her.
"Are you quite all right, Miss?" he asked. She did not reply; she was deeply asleep.
Joshua wrapped her in a thick quilt and carried her out the back door and down the path to the root cellar.
He laid her on a pallet he'd prepared a few days earlier and secured her legs to two posts he'd pounded into the earthen floor, her wrists to two others. He hated to treat her this way, but he was sure that if he could just keep her away from John for a while, he might be able to win her heart for himself. After all, she would be completely dependent upon him...for food, for water, for conversation--and for love.
Joshua sat beside the sleeping woman for a while, then he locked her inside and went back to the pub to see to the lunch crowd.
Mavis awoke a few hours after being left alone. She did not know where she was; there was not a sound, she couldn't lift her hands beyond her face, and there was not a sliver of light to be seen.
The root cellar, built for winter food storage, was built eight feet underground and covered by a hill of turf. The heavy oaken door fit tightly and locked only from the outside. It was located thirty feet from the seldom used back door of the pub, and John never went down there unless she asked him to.
"Joshua?" she said into the darkness in a tentative voice, "Are you there? Joshua?"
She tried to rise and found that her legs were also bound. Panic crept into her mind as she considered the implications of her plight.
"JOSHUA!" she screamed,
struggling vainly against her bonds. "JOSHUA, HELP ME!"
A dog passing through the back yard cocked its head and approached the door of the cellar, whining questioningly. Mavis did not hear him and had fallen silent. The animal sniffed at the door again and wandered away.
Mavis was breathing hard, her eyes wide with terror in the darkness. She could hear her pulse pounding in her ears, but there was no other sound. She struggled valiantly against her bonds, but she could make no headway. Desperately, she gnawed at the thick, leather straps until her teeth ached. At length, she began to cry. There was nothing else she could do but wait for John to come home and find her.
The sun was setting by the time Joshua returned. Mavis was dozing, exhausted from crying in the darkness. The door opened, and the dim light poured through the door and at last Mavis could see where it was she was lying.
"John?" she called softly. "John? Is it you? Help me, baby, I can't move."
"John's not here, Miss. He should be home any minute, though. I've brought you some food and water, and I'm going to the airfield to tell him that I don't know where you are."
"Joshua, why? Why are you doing this? Please, just let me go, and I promise I won't tell John. I won't tell anyone."
"Sorry, Miss, can't do that. I don't have a chance with him around. I have to keep you here for a while. You need to learn to rely on me and then you'll see. You'll see how much I love you, how much I need you--and you need me."
"I do see that. You're the one who came to save me. How could I not care for you?" asked Mavis. "But you have to untie me, honey. I have cramps in my arms and legs, and I really need to pee. Come on, sweetheart. Untie me and we'll go to the airfield and tell John that he has to move out so that you can take his place."
"Sorry, Miss, but I can't do that. I've read about this, and all the books say it takes time. You're just trying to fool me. I'm not stupid, Miss. I'm not. I left a pail for you to use as a toilet and the food is right beside you. You just try to relax and I'll be back to check on you later, after John is sleeping. He'll sleep real good tonight, just like you did this afternoon. I have to go now. See you later, Miss."
He climbed up the stone stairs and closed the heavy door. Mavis heard him swing the bar into place to lock it securely, then set the chain and attach the padlock.
She began to cry, and the baby inside of her moved restlessly. "Don't you worry, my little one," Mavis whispered, "Your daddy will come for us. He just has to."
She managed to use the bucket to relieve herself, and she drank the water, but she had no stomach for food. She closed her eyes and curled up on her side, protectively cradling her belly in her arms.
Joshua was sanding in the field when Sycamore's plane landed and the two men disembarked.
"Hey, Joshua! Where's me gurrl?" cried John, running towards him. "I thought she'd be here to meet me!"
"I think she's taking a nap," replied Joshua. "I haven't seen her since after we cleaned up after breakfast."
"Poor baby," John said, climbing into the wagon. "She must have been exhausted. Let's get home and I'll wake her. I have some stuff to tell her."
Sycamore climbed into the back of the wagon, John snapped the reins, and they began rolling towards the village.
As soon as they got to the general store, John unhitched the horse and led her into her stall, then he and Joshua went around to the pub. Mary was behind the bar serving supper to the customers seated there.
"Hello, sir," she called to John.
"Hello yerself, Mary--thanks for fillin' in for Mavis while she's nappin'. Now if ye'll excuse me, I'm gonna go and check in on her."
A few moments later, he came bounding down the stairs, his eyes wide with alarm. "She's not up there!" he cried. "Joshua, she's not fuckin' up there! We've gotta find her--where the hell could she have gone?"
Mary came from behind the bar and stood before John, her face white. "Did she leave a note?" she asked, her voice quavering. "That's not like Mavis--I've known her all her life."
John shook his head. He had gone dead white, and he was trembling. "No note, nothing. She didn't even make the bed. Where is she, Joshua? Where the fuckin' hell could she have gone?"
Joshua shrugged. "I don't know," he replied.
"Whattayer mean, ye don't fuckin' know?" roared John. He switched immediately from fear to fury.
Joshua stepped back a few feet and mumbled, "Calm down, man, I told ya I don't know where she went. She was here at breakfast--wasn't she, Mr. Moore?"
The gentleman in question nodded affirmation. "That she was," he said. "I spoke to her this mornin'. The lass didn't mention havin' any plans of goin' anywhere."
John grabbed his coat and stormed out the door. "I hafta find her," he called over his shoulder. "It's gonna freeze tonight, and she's gotta be out there somewhere. Her cape is hangin' in the bedroom, and she'd not go far without it."
He banged the door shut behind himself and tore down the street, calling Mavis' name as he went, stopping to knock at the door of every house with a light in the window.
No one had seen Mavis since morning, and many of the men joined him in his search, fanning out across the island on foot or on horseback. Before long, every man in the village was out hunting for the lost girl, but to no avail. It was nearly dawn when John returned, exhausted and beside himself with worry and fear, and dropped into his seat by the fire.
Joshua brought him a cup of coffee, and he drank it absentmindedly. He lit a cigarette and sat trembling, staring into the flames with tears in his eyes. Joshua sat quietly at the other end of the room watching him. At length, John’s eyelids drooped and his cigarette fell from his fingers to the hearth. He began to snore softly.
Joshua got up and went out the back door to the root cellar.
Mavis tried again to sit up when the heavy door swung slowly open. "Joshua? What time is it?" she asked. "Have you come to let me out?"
"It's morning, and no. I closed the pub due to a family emergency and John's asleep. I thought I'd come spend a little time with my best girl."
"Joshua, I think I need to see the doctor," Mavis said in a small voice. "My water broke about an hour ago and the baby is coming."
The boy knelt beside her and put his hand on her belly. Mavis let out a cry of agony and her abdomen tightened as another pain gripped her. "I'll help you," said Joshua, his voice shaking. "I think we can do this alone."
No, we can't. I've never had a baby before, and I'm scared," whispered Mavis. "I need the doctor. Please, Joshua, let me go. I'm afraid for my baby. Please, Josh. Untie me and take me to the surgery." Mavis cried out again, doubling over in pain.
Joshua stood up and backed up the stairs. "I've gotta think about this," he said, his voice trembling. "I gotta think about what to do."
He was just about to back out if the door when something hit him in the back of the head from behind. Joshua slumped over and fell down the steps into the cellar and hit the floor with a sickening thud.
In the doorway stood John, weaving slightly on his feet. Mavis was sobbing with relief. He came unsteadily down the stairs and knelt beside her, fumbling with the knots in the leather cords that bound her hands and feet. Freed at last, she threw her arms around John's neck, her face pressed against his chest. He soothed her, caressing her hair with one hand, chafing her wrists with the other.
"Whist, now, gurrl. It's all right, I'm here now," he murmured. "Let's get ye out of here."
Another pain struck Mavis, and she cried out and doubled over.
"What is it, darlin', have I hurt ye?" asked John in alarm.
"It's the baby...it started hours ago. I think it's coming now!" groaned Mavis.
"Jesus," moaned John. He lifted her skirt and looked at her, tentatively touching her.
"I don't think there's time to get the doctor," Mavis whispered. "I think I need to push."
"D'ye think ye can hold off till I go get the doc?"
"No, baby, I can't--it's happening too fast. You'll have to help me."
John threw Mavis' skirt back and watched as the child's head emerged. "I can see his head! He's almost here! Yer doin' a great job, Mavis, push some more!"
"You don't have to tell me," she groaned, pushing as hard as she could. One shoulder came out, and John took hold of the baby and pulled gently as Mavis pushed as hard as she could with a loud scream. The other shoulder came and the rest of the little body came sliding out into John's waiting hands.
"God's wristwatch, Mavis, he's fuckin' beautiful. Just look at him! A beautiful little lad, all our own!" He handed the baby to Mavis and kissed her softly, then kissed their son's downy head. "Ye should be all right for a few minutes now," he said softly. “I’m gonna go get doc Fenity now and have him make sure yer all right. I’ve got nothin’ to cut the cord, and our boy is gonna need a wash and a checkover.”
He grabbed the unresponsive Joshua by the arm and hauled him into the corner, binding him securely with the leather straps he’d used on Mavis.
“That’ll hold him. Be right back, love,” he said as he left the cellar and closed the door against the chill.
"C'mon, Doc, she's right down here," John said urgently. His voice was still slightly thick and he was a bit unsteady on his feet, but he made it back to Mavis' side, dragging the old doctor behind him.
"That thankless little bastard drugged me just like he probably did to Mavis, but I have a lot higher tolerance than she does. I took stuff like that for years before I came here," said John as the doctor examined Mavis and took care of the new baby. "Me poor gurrl nearly had to have our baby down here in the dark all by herself without so much as a candle's light," John added. "Still, she did a bangin' job, didn't she just?"
"She certainly did," the old man agreed. "She did a perfect job. Go get me the stretcher from behind the door in my office, and we'll get her into the house and put to bed."
John hurried off to get the stretcher, and the old doctor turned his attention to the boy bound in the corner.
"Is he all right?" asked Mavis, looking up from her child for a moment.
"I'm afraid he's dead, poor boy," replied the old man. "His neck's been broken."
John returned with the stretcher, and together he and Doctor Fenity loaded Mavis and the baby onto it and carried her into the pub and up the stairs to their bedroom. Once they were settled in and the baby was nursing, John turned to the doctor.
“I s’pose ye’d better see to that boy,” he said, “But don’t bring him back here. I’ll not have him in me house. Again after what he’s done to Mavis.”
“He’ll not be hurting anyone again,” the doctor replied as he packed up his things. “The boy’s dead, John. He broke his neck in the fall.”
“Jesus,” breathed John. “Does that make me a fuckin’ murderer now? I knocked him over the head and made him fall down the fuckin’ stairs, but I thought he was just sparkied.”
“Not a bit of it, lad,” said the old doctor. “You did what any man would have done, and you had no intention of killing him—did you?”
“Well, I’m not sorry he’s dead, but no, I didn’t;t mean to kill him. I only meant to keep him from hurtin’ Mavis.”
“There you go, then. It was an accident. I’ll make out his certificate to say so and he’ll be buried on the far west end of the island in the village cemetery. Never you worry, son. Just take care of your wife and baby, you hear? Things will be just fine.”
“That I will, sir,” John replied. “Thank ye, doctor. I’ll come by later on and settle up with ye.”
Once the doctor had gone, John climbed into bed with Mavis and watched as she nursed their child.
"Did ye hear what the doctor said?" he asked, touching the baby's little hand. The tiny fingers gripped his tightly.
"Yes. He told me when he sent you back to his office. Don't blame yourself, John. It wasn't your fault. You were only trying to keep him from harming the baby and me. I know you. You never meant to kill him."
John, though, was never a man to let himself off so easily. He knew that he would carry the guilt for that boy's death in his heart for the rest of his life. He, at least, would never be able to absolve himself of it and would be haunted by it just as he was for the many other things he'd done and people he'd hurt throughout his life. He tried to push it back into the darkest place in his mind so that it would only torment him in his loneliest hours, and once that was done, he curled his body around Mavis' and allowed himself to sleep at last.
They named the baby Adam, after Mavis' father. In the days after his son's birth, John ran the pub with Mary's capable help, and Mavis and little Adam held court by the fire as everyone in town came to admire the newest little member of their village.
Joshua was buried at the outer edge of the island's cemetery without mention or ceremony, and it was supposed that there would be no reason to consider the matter of his existence again.
As often happens, however, the ghost of the dead was invoked and he did not stay forgotten for long.
"Look here, John," said Dylan one morning just a week before Christmas. "The paper says they're lookin' for a missin' kid from Glasgow; if this isn't that boy Joshua, I don't know me own name. Except the paper says his name is Danny MacTavish, and his dad is a big shot in Scotland Yard."
John felt sick as he snatched the paper from Dylan's hand and scanned the article. The picture was, indeed, of Joshua, smiling and wearing a school uniform.
Master MacTavish's absence was discovered when he did
not return home for Christmas break after the Academy closed for the
holidays, the article said. The Headmaster told the boy's
distraught parents that Danny had left months earlier, citing as his
reason a family emergency. A search for the boy is under way, but it is
being supposed that he has run away and may be hiding from authorities.
"Well, at least it doesn't sound as though they'll look very hard for him," Dylan said. "More's the pity that his parents will never know he's lyin' in the cemetery here on Harmony...on the other hand, they're spared knowin' what he done that put him there."
"Yeah...well, thanks, Dylan. Can I take this?" asked John. His hands trembled as he tucked the paper under his arm and stood in the wind watching Dylan hurry back to his shack on the dock.
John went back into the pub and sat at the bar, opening the paper and laying it out in front of him. He reread the article, folded the paper, and went to sit in his chair by the fire.
Every instinct made him want to shred the paper and feed it to the flames, but instead he tucked it under the cushion of his chair and sat smoking, staring into the flames.
Christmas morning dawned bright and cold; a light snow had fallen the night before and sparkled now on every outdoor surface. There were only a couple of single men who came into the pub for their breakfasts this morning; most of the villagers were at home with their own families. John enlisted the men who did come to help him distribute his gifts of fresh fruit baskets for every family in the village, promising them Christmas dinner with himself and Mavis later that afternoon in exchange for their cooperation.
Fresh fruit was a rare treat during the winter on the island, and everyone was touched by John's thoughtfulness and generosity. Quite a few of the villagers insisted upon his sharing a cup of eggnog or a drink of whisky with them, and by the time he returned home, he was more than a little drunk.
"Home at last, Mavis, me gurrl!" he called as he stomped his boots free of snow just inside the door.
Mavis was sitting in her customary spot by the fire, nursing the baby, and the room was redolent with the scents of the goose roasting in the oven and several pies.
"Smells like Heaven in here, Mavis," John said cheerfully as he dropped into his chair and lit a cigarette. "And you look like an angel."
"You're certainly in a fine mood, sweetheart," she replied, closing her blouse and lifting Adam to her shoulder. "Are you having yourself a happy Christmas?"
"Never had one happier," he told her. "It's freezin' cold out there, though. As soon as I warm up a bit, I'm gonna drag in enough wood to last us the rest of the night. Is there any coffee in the kitchen?"
"There is indeed, and if you'll take your son and look after him for a few minutes, I'll go get some for you and you can have it here by the fire," said Mavis. She handed the baby to John and disappeared into the kitchen to check on dinner and get his coffee.
John and Adam regarded one another solemnly. The baby looked exactly like Julian had at this age, except for the color of his eyes, which were a soft shade of gray, slightly greenish, just like Mavis' were.
"Ye've got yer mother's eyes," John said gently. "Other than that, though, yer me spittin' image--more's the pity for ye. I hope ye've got her lovin' heart as well."
Adam, of course, did not reply, but it seemed for all the world to John as if the child had understood his words. He cradled the baby in the crook of his arm and touched one of his tiny fists; the child grabbed hold of his father's finger and held on tightly.
"Quite a grip ye've got on ye, me lad," John told him in a soft voice. "Make sure ye keep hold o' me for as long as ye can, and I promise I'll do me level best to see that yer always safe, warm, and fed. Have we got a deal?"
The baby placed his other fist into his own mouth as far as it would go and continued to regard his father with the same solemn, slightly unfocused baby stare. John lifted his son to his shoulder and put his cheek against the boy's little head, his heart swelling with love, his head spinning slightly with the heat of the fire and the effects of the whiskey he'd consumed. He closed his eyes and breathed in the intoxicating new baby smell he recalled from when Sean had been new and his throat constricted painfully as he thought of the children he'd likely never see again. He kissed Adam's soft, reddish gold hair and promised himself that he would never be separated from this child. He wouldn't let anything like that happen to him ever again. He just couldn't.
Mavis came back into the room, placed his coffee mug on the table beside him, and took the baby from his arms. "My goodness, John, what on earth is wrong?" she asked, concern creasing her forehead. "You look as if you'd just lost your best friend." She placed the baby in his cradle between their chairs and knelt in front of John, taking his hands in hers and searching his face with worried eyes.
"I was just thinkin' o' Sean and Julian," he told her, making his face smile as well as he could.
"It's nothin' for ye to worry about. And I was thinkin' o' poor Joshua out there under the snow up at the cemetery...he won't be at home with his parents for Christmas, will he."
"No, but that's not really your fault, baby. There was something wrong with him, John. Whoever he really was, something had happened to hurt him inside before he ever fell down those cellar stairs. The boy he'd been was already gone. I could see it in his eyes. Please don't keep blaming yourself for what happened to him."
John looked down into her eyes, and this time his smile was genuine. "I know, and I'm that sorry, love," he said, lifting her into his lap and holding her close. "Let's not let anything spoil our mood today. How long before that goose is cooked--the lads are comin' back at half past four; will it be done by then?"
"Yes, or slightly thereafter," Mavis told him. "Maybe we could put the baby down for a nap and you could get one yourself before they come back."
"As tempting as that sounds, I think I'd rather stay down here and help ye out with yer work," he replied. "There's quite a bit to do yet, I'll bet. Put our little lad into the cradle, and I'll rock him to sleep, then I'll come out into the kitchen and give ye a hand with whatever I can, then I'll drag some more wood in here."
"Well, I guess I could use some help in the kitchen," Mavis admitted. "All right, that sounds good to me." She put the baby down and tucked him in, and John began to rock the cradle gently.
Mavis went to the kitchen and he went on rocking the baby for a few moments, but gradually his movements slowed, his chin dropped to his chest, and he began to snore softly. When Mavis came back to find out if he wanted more coffee, both John and Adam were fast asleep. She smiled at them and reached out to brush John's hair away from his eyes. He didn't move, and she sighed gently.
"Looks like I'm on my own as far as dinner is concerned," she said softly, "But I guess it's better that way. You go on and sleep it off, my love. I'll wake you when I really need your help."
She returned to the kitchen to prepare the vegetables for cooking, and after more than an hour had passed, she went back into the front room to find John lighting a cigarette, blinking sleepily.
"Sorry, love, guess I drifted off for a minute or two," he said apologetically.
"I'll get you some more coffee," said Mavis. "How are you feeling, darling?"
"Better," he told her. "The room's stopped spinning, anyroad. I guess I had a few too many while I was out this mornin'."
"At least you recover quickly," Mavis replied. "You just wait there, and I'll get your coffee, then you can help me straighten up a bit before the men arrive for dinner. I'll start the vegetables cooking, and everything will be done in two shakes. It's a bit messy in here...there's a newspaper or something sticking out from under your chair cushion, for goodness sake!"
She went into the kitchen, and John looked down and pulled the paper out from under himself. He opened it and looked at the photo of the boy they'd known as Joshua one more time before he tore it up and tossed it into the fire. The flames rose and devoured the paper hungrily, brightly, and quickly. He would tell Mavis about what he'd learned soon, but not today. He wasn't going to let anything spoil her Christmas.
Mavis returned with his coffee and placed it on the table beside him. "You're a bit flushed from sitting so close to the fire, love," she said.
He pulled her down into his lap and kissed her deeply, and when he finally broke the kiss, she was as flushed as he. “Happy Christmas, Mavis,” he said softly, his face in her hair, his breath at her ear.
“Happy Christmas, John,” she replied, her voice trembling slightly. “I’ve never been happier in all my life.”
“Neither have I,” he said, “Even though I miss a lot of people, I really am happy here with you—and of course, our sweet boy here. I have to admit, y’know, that when I first came here, I never expected it to work out the way it has, but I’m that grateful that it has.”
After dinner was over and most of the men had gone home, John went to take a shower while Mavis and Dylan finished cleaning up. When he came back downstairs, Dylan had gone and Mavis was sitting in her chair by the fire. She was pale and shaken, and in her hand was a copy of the same newspaper that John had burned.
"Dylan had this," she told him, showing him the familiar page with the missing boy smiling out from the middle of it. "John, this is Joshua. His parents are looking for him, and his father is a policeman."
John sank into his chair and looked into Mavis' white, worried face. One look at his calm, steady gaze told her that it was not news to him.
"You knew about this," she said softly. "John, why didn't you tell me?"
"I din't wanna spoil yer day," he replied. "I was gonna tell ye, just not on Christmas."
"What are we going to do?" she asked. She was wringing her pale, slender hands and John caught hold of them and held them in his own.
"I don't know," he answered. "There's a pretty good chance that nobody would ever find out if we don't say anythin'."
"But think of his mother and father! Think of how we would feel if this was Adam, John. To think of never knowing what had become of him, and him lying dead somewhere--"
"Whist, Mavis, calm yerself. If ye think we have to tell someone what happened, well, then, that's what I'll do.Let's not think about it for right now, though. Let's just try to lay the matter aside until tomorrow, can't we?"
"All right, John. I'm sorry; I won't mention it again. We'll talk about it tomorrow. I'm sure you'll be doing the right thing. You always do."
Adam began to fuss, and Mavis lifted him from the cradle and opened her blouse to feed him. John watched her, his heart melting with love and concern for them both.
She's right, he thought, lighting a cigarette and
leaning back in his chair. I just wish that just this once, I didn't
have to do the right thing. I just wish I could wake up tomorrow and this
would all turn out to be a dream.
He sighed and gazed into the fire, consciously letting his body relax. For now, at least, everything was all right. He was here, safe with Mavis and Adam, and it was still Christmas. The problems of the outside world were where they belonged, outside in the swirling snow, across the water on the mainland. They would talk about it tomorrow, and he would do what he had known must be done from the moment he'd seen that newspaper. He only wished that it all could have waited just a little while. It frightened him to think of going to the police with the truth. It frightened him especially to think of the rest of the world discovering that he hadn't died that night in New York after all, and that was almost sure to happen--wasn't it?Although he thought this was quite likely, John told himself that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be just fine.
Angel Godiva was actually was given that nickname by John Lennon, whom she met in L.A. in 1974 on her 21st birthday. She had yards of hair back then. She lives in Northern Connecticut with her second husband, and has been a Beatles fan since 1964, when she was 11. The high point of her life was meeting and getting to know John (though she never saw him again after he returned to NYC). She also writes poetry, and is currently working with an editor friend on her first novel.
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