“Maybe if we explain—”
“No. They’ll see the same thing you see—an immoral woman with a fatherless son who lied and committed fraud and took advantage of them for the past four years.”
“Eve—”
“Just listen.” She swatted at a mosquito. “I think I know someone who’ll help me, but I’ll need to drive to a different town.”
“Who?”
Eve didn’t want Audrey to know. “Will you stay here tomorrow and watch Robbie for me until I get back? And if anyone calls or comes to the house, please don’t tell them who you are. I just need a little more time to get settled someplace new.”
“If that’s what you want, Eve. But—”
“Thanks. That is what I want.”
Eve fixed her hair and applied her makeup very carefully the next day, then dressed in a red-and-white polka-dot sundress and a string of pearls that her mother-in-law had bought for her. Eve loved shopping with Mrs. Barrett, who lavished her and Robbie with everything they could possibly want. “I’ve always wished for a daughter to take on shopping trips,” Mrs. Barrett said the day they’d bought the dress—and matching shoes and hat and purse, of course. Today would be the last day Eve would wear these clothes. They belonged to Audrey, the real daughter-in-law.
Eve kissed her son goodbye and promised to buy a half gallon of chocolate ice cream on the way home. She used the map in the glove compartment of her car to find the city, thirty miles away, where Louis lived. She would tell him about their son, Robbie. Harry. His real name is Harry, after my father. She would show Louis his picture, ask him to help her find a typist’s job and a place to live and someone to watch Robbie during the day while she worked. She wouldn’t ask for money, just for help to disappear.
The knot in Eve’s stomach twisted tighter as she drove. When she reached Louis’s town, she stopped at a telephone box and checked the advertising section in the directory for the Dubois family’s insurance company. An older gentleman walking his dog gave her directions to the street where the office building was located. Eve found it without any trouble, a prosperous-looking business in an affluent area of town. The sight of Louis’s name painted on the glass window in black-and-gold letters made her heart hammer painfully. She sat in the sweltering car for several minutes, unable to move, her insides writhing. If she sat here much longer, her clothes would be drenched with sweat. Get ahold of yourself, Eve. This is for your son. Louis will want to help his son.
She walked to the door on wobbling legs. An attractive young receptionist greeted her inside, guarding Louis’s office from behind an enormous desk with a typewriter and a telephone. Eve could easily do that girl’s job or one like it—answering the telephone, typing letters. The girl smiled prettily. “Good morning. May I help you?”
Eve battled to control her shaking voice. “Is it possible to see Mr. Dubois for a few minutes? It won’t take long.”
“May I tell him what it’s about?”
Eve’s heart hadn’t hammered this hard since the endless nights of the London Blitz. “I knew him when he was stationed in England during the war. My . . . um . . . my husband and I were friends of his. I happened to be in town today, so I thought . . . well, I just wanted to say hello. Should I have made an appointment?”
“No, no. Mr. Dubois is with a client, but he shouldn’t be much longer.” The girl checked her appointment book. “He has a few minutes before lunch. May I tell him your name?”
She would have to lie. Louis would run straight out the back door if he knew Eve was here. “Yes. Mrs. Robert Barrett.” The name rolled easily from her tongue.
“You’re welcome to wait here, Mrs. Barrett, or there’s a nice little café next door.”
“Thank you. I’ll wait here.”
“Would you like a cup of coffee?”
“No thank you.” The thought of it made her writhing stomach burn. She couldn’t stand American coffee, but she rarely requested tea because no one in America knew how to brew a decent pot of it. Tea steadied her nerves rather than leaving them jangled like tangled lengths of barbed wire the way coffee did. As for walking to the café, Eve’s heart was racing so fast she wasn’t sure she could walk anywhere.
She chided herself for behaving like a frightened rabbit. She’d faced bombs and infernos and much, much worse, so surely she could face her child’s father, the man she’d once loved. It seemed like a lifetime ago.