"The Forest Secret" - Chapter 16
The effect on their emotions from the revelation that Mary Weatherby was not only alive but seated before them was mercurial. Charley and Stephanie had come from Paris in the hopes of finding the elder British lady only to hear from Denis that she had died. To suddenly have the story burst alive again with Mary’s revelation filled the two women with a sense of fascination, gratitude and hope.
While a lunch of cold meats, salads and coffee was being prepared in the kitchen, Mary took them for a tour of the old manor, along with the grounds and pond at the rear of the building, surrounded by grass, trees and a seeming endless supply of birds welcoming the arrival of spring. For a brief time, they sat in some chairs overlooking the water while they waited for lunch.
“What happened after you left Paris? Did you marry? Children? Were you ever in touch with Aramis again?”
All of these questions coming from Charley like machine gun bursts caused Mary to wave a weathered hand in front of her face in supplication to go slower.
“O Mary, I’m sorry,” Charley replied, embarrassed. “There was nothing professional about my conduct just now. It’s just that we had spent our evening yesterday drinking down our sorrows at the thought that you were gone. We just weren’t prepared for today and finding you.”
The older woman reached out and grabbed her visitor’s hand momentarily. “Please, no apologies necessary. I’m afraid part of the fault is mine for remaining so reclusive in recent years.”
Mary rubbed her hands over her dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. “Now, let me attempt to answer your questions. Yes, I did marry - to James, a thoughtful and kind diplomat, who had been posted to Hong Kong and then India. But while in Asia, he suffered a serious bout of malaria and never fully recovered. We had a good life but it was brief. He died in 1985. We had no children and I never remarried. My sister Millicent married young but then divorced. Her Alzheimer’s set in early and I promised to take care of her here at Weatherby Manor. She had no children either, so it now seems that this estate will pass on to the university once I am gone. They have their own designs for it which will require a major overhaul to the building and the property, so I’ve been inclined to just do the basics in maintenance until that point.”
Stephanie had been moving around the grounds taking photos and returned in time to hear Mary’s story.
“Seems like life might have been a bit lonely for you, Mary. I’m sorry.”
Their host looked at the photographer, touched by her sympathy. “In truth, it has been rather isolating. But I have my books and dabble in painting, so it keeps me occupied. They have me on the trustee board for the university, but that is only because I own the grounds they wish to possess. I enjoy being on the Auxiliary at the cathedral, and it occasionally makes me think of Notre Dame … and Aramis.”
Just then a small bell rang inside the house, alerting everyone that lunch was served. They gathered around an old plank table and took their seats. Charley was surprised to watch Mary as she bowed her head, offering a silent prayer. Each took their lunch, while Mary poured lemonade in tall glasses with a lime wedge.
“Now, I didn’t answer the one question you asked of me,” Mary noted.
“About if you ever saw Aramis again,” Charley noted.
“Yes. Well the truth about that is rather complicated you see. We were deeply in love before my parent’s demanded my return here to Canterbury. They thought I could do better for a husband. I loved them and didn’t wish to stain my father’s career in the diplomatic service and so complied. But I’m afraid my heart didn’t. We continued to correspond, even though I was for years in Asia with James.”
“Did your husband know?” Stephanie asked.
“I thought it best to tell him. He had been a young associate of my father’s in the service and I believed I should tell him myself just in case my father said something to him about it. James took it in stride - as he was trained, I’m sure - and we never really discussed it again. Plus, when correspondence arrived from Aramis, I didn’t want to always fret about it being discovered.”
“So, you never saw Aramis Caron again?” Charley inquired.
“I didn’t say that,” their host said with her head tilted slightly and the beginning of a grin on her face. They waited for her to continue, intrigued.
“When my husband finally passed away, Aramis was beside himself with worry for me. We agreed to meet in Normandy, at a small hotel on the beach there, the du Pasino, for the weekend. I suppose I needed him, but as soon as I embraced him, I knew I had never stopped wanting him. James was prim and proper, while Aramis was passionate and soulish. I was a mixture of both, but life with James was a steady thing, while I was still harbouring the fire of my youth. It was a meeting of the souls between Aramis and me. We had both changed in subtle ways, me more than him, but we enjoyed our long walks, wonderful talks, and delightful dinners. When he took me to the ferry to come back here, I just couldn’t hold the tears back. Neither could he.”
“Did you see him following Normandy?” asked Charley.
“No. Being with him burst my youthful passions into a bonfire and I so wanted to be with him. But my husband’s estate had to be settled and was in the beginning stages of losing my sister to disease. There are duties in things like that. When Aramis asked me to join him in Paris, I declined. He asked once more a few weeks later and I responded in the same fashion, only more forceful I think. I never heard from him after that. I suspect I broke his heart for a second time.”
“So, all these years, you two were never in touch again?”
“No, it was over. But a love like that is never over, is it? I still yearn for him today, as I sometimes do for the companionship of James. We women are complex creatures, aren’t we?”
Again, she produced a tissue from her sleeve and grew lost in her thoughts.
“I have so much more I wish to ask you, Mary,” Charley said.
“I’m sure you do, but I think I’ve had too much emotion for one day. This is Saturday. Why don’t you both come with me to the Cathedral tomorrow morning and we can come back here for lunch to continue our conversation?”
Both Charley and Stephanie realized they had put Mary through more than they had planned. She was clearly hurting.
“I’m sorry Mary,” Charley said while touching her arm. “We will see you tomorrow.”
“I will wait for you outside the big door,” was all Mary said before she went through a door, down a hallway, and into her room.
“O dear. I think we overwhelmed her,” Charley observed.
“What about us?” her friend replied. “I think she reciprocated and overwhelmed us.”
They cleared the dishes from the table and took them to the kitchen, then proceeded out the kitchen door to walk back to the gate. There was no Thomas or cook, just the two of them lost in thought over the remarkable story they had just heard.