“Are you raising sheep now, Louis?” she asked with a nervous laugh.
“That picture was taken last Easter. The lamb belonged to the photographer. Although the girls begged Jean to bring it home.” A long silence fell at the mention of Jean’s name. Then they both spoke at the same time.
“I should—”
“Eve, listen—”
“You go first,” she said.
“Eve, I’m so sorry for everything that happened . . . I never meant to hurt you—”
“Please don’t apologize. We both made a terrible mistake.”
“It didn’t feel like a mistake.”
She looked down at the floor, not at him. It was more than a “mistake.” They had broken one of God’s commandments. For the first time, she saw herself the way God must see her. No wonder she was being punished. “When you sin against the Lord,” Granny Maud used to say, “you may be sure that your sin will find you out.”
“Those were terrible years, Louis. But I wanted you to know in case anything ever happened to me, that we—” She stopped. Should she tell Louis he had a son? He would be so proud of Robbie.
Eve raised her head to look at the framed picture of his family again, then turned the photograph around to face Louis. She couldn’t do it. She had ruined her own life—she wouldn’t ruin his. Or his family’s. “We helped each other through a very dark time. I’m glad we were friends, even if . . .”
“I love you, Eve.”
“Please don’t say that. I can’t be in your life, Louis. I just wanted to see you again and thank you for helping me through one of the hardest times in my life. I hope and pray that you and Jean are happy.”
“I never told her about us. I still think about you nearly every day, and sometimes the guilt is more than I can stand. After Bob died, I needed to talk to somebody about what happened, so I told my friend Tom Vandenberg about you.”
Eve closed her eyes for a moment. How could she ever face Tom again after he learned who she was? He had been such a good friend to her and Robbie. Her best friend.
“Tom advised me not to confess to Jean,” Louis continued. “He said I should never tell her or anyone else.”
“I agree with him, Louis. Please promise me one thing.” Eve paused as if waiting for him to say, “Cross my heart and hope to die” the way she and Audrey used to do. “Promise me you’ll take Tom’s advice and never tell Jean about what happened during the war. If you confess, you’ll free yourself from the guilt, but then the knowledge will weigh on Jean’s heart for the rest of her life. She’ll always wonder if she can trust you and if you love her. Don’t do that to her. Promise?”
“I promise,” Louis whispered.
“Let your guilt be your penance. And don’t ever, ever cheat on her again.” Eve let go of the chair she’d been clinging to and took a step backward toward the door. “I have to go.”
“No, Eve! Don’t walk away!” He started to rise, but she held up both hands.
“Don’t. Please don’t hold me again, Louis. Just let me go.” She turned, battling to control tears of shame and regret as she hurried outside to her car.
Now what? She pressed her forehead against the steering wheel as her tears flowed. What am I going to do now?
She would be alone again, without a home—like she was after Granny Maud died, like she was after Mum died. If this was her punishment for turning away from God, Eve didn’t think she could bear it.
29
Eve couldn’t go back to the house and face Audrey. Not yet. Not until she figured out where to go, how to live. Turning to Louis for help had been a last resort, but as she drove home after seeing him, steering blindly, she knew it would be a mistake to involve him. That left her without a plan. She’d always been strong, able to think on her feet and adjust to adversity. Her new life in America seemed firmly under control—until Audrey arrived.
As she neared the woods west of Tom’s farm, Eve pulled to the side of the road. She needed the forest, the solace of deep silence. She turned off the engine and opened the door, then realized she was still wearing her expensive polka-dot sundress and high-heeled pumps. How could she walk in the woods in such a fancy outfit? A better question might be, what was she doing in these clothes to begin with? They weren’t hers. She was an actress playing a part—the role of Audrey Barrett.
Had she really been happy in that role these past three and a half years? In all honesty, no. She had not. She and Robbie had been safe and well cared for, but there had been an underlying loneliness and emptiness that no amount of fancy clothes or parties at the country club could ever fill. If she gave Audrey her life back, maybe she could find a more satisfying one. But what about Robbie? The only life he’d ever known would be ripped away, along with all the people he loved, replaced by a life in a tiny flat, barely scraping by. Happy or not, Eve would gladly continue living a lie for his sake.