CHAPTER 1.08 - THE STORIES WE KEEP TO OURSELVES: II
A customer is already in the shop as Anuk makes her way in. The woman she presumes to be “Lena” has her back to them, tying up a cake box with pretty ribbon. As the bell over the door tinkles to announce her arrival, the blonde shopkeeper looks round, a smile on her attractive face. The smile warms further as she says in a soft voice “I’ll be with you in just a moment.” Anuk gives her a tight, silent smile, nods to the the middle-aged woman. She is obviously prosperous, but stands patiently awaiting her box of treats. The pair of them stand in silence, scanning the glass display counter. If this is Elena, then she is an artist. Wilton’s breads looked and smelled amazing, but the display of patisserie in front of Anuk fills her with admiration and just a smidgen of lust. Even the simpler confections (her eyes lock on the strawberry tarts) look perfect and alluring. No wonder Wilton was ready to burst leading her to this treasure trove.
As the presumed-Lena turns to hand the cake box to her customer, Anuk notes her bulging stomach. The woman is patently, shockingly, pregnant. Hmm. Anuk keeps her face studiously blank as shopkeeper and customer pass a little polite chat. The well-to-do lady is obviously a regular. Anuk feels she detects a hint of guilt in the older woman’s smile as she bustles past Anuk. Mostly, though, the woman’s eyes are drawn towards the box in her hands. Definitely not held like treasure. The bell jingles again and they are alone.
-x-
The shopkeeper turns her attention to Anuk, open smile on her face. Anuk finds herself cautious, uncertain how she should proceed. Decides to start simple: “I’m so sorry to bother you, but are you Elena?” The woman gives a low chuckle, shades of her father’s voice and humour, spreads her arms at shoulder height. “I am Elena, and these…” she lowers and spreads her hands further in a low bow, gesticulating towards the displays “..are my treats.” The gesture is only slightly hampered by her baby bulge.
Anuk takes in the woman before her. It’s easy to guess what ‘Mirry’ saw in her. Elena is striking, but effortlessly so. She shares her mother’s fine features and cheekbones, softening in her mid-20s with SO many confections within arm’s reach. Thankfully, she seems to have taken on her father’s emotional attributes more than his looks. Honesty and straightforward confidence seems to exude from her. Anuk feels a pang of guilt, in part due to the advantage she has over the girl. The remainder is concern she might be about to introduce an extremely difficult topic.
Oh well.
“I wanted to ask you about Mirry.” She leaves that dangling in the air, closely observes Elena’s face. Immediately, the woman’s eyes flick to her torso, her obvious pregnancy, and her cheeks redden. Not guilt, not quite, but complex feelings chase across her face. “Oh! Umm, umm…” Elena looks down, notices a pair of scissors discarded amongst some impossibly layered pastry-and-cream-and-icing squares. Anuk feels a stab of panic, mind’s eye predicting an irrational attack or self-harm attempt. Thankfully, the girl retrieves the scissors and returns them to the counter at her back. Elena is obviously rattled, however, as she fumbles and drops them on the floor. She begins to bend, gasping a little and holding her stomach, when a gangly, 6’ man, seemingly all elbows, sticks his head into the room. He was apparently in some workspace behind the store. “Lena, are you…oh! Let me get that, please.” He bumbles, face full of concerned affection.
“Ber, it’s…it’s fine” Elena gasps, flushes more as she realises she is somewhat stuck, unable to reach the floor around her bulge. As he dashes, careful to avoid colliding with Elena in his grab for the scissors, ‘Ber’ notices Anuk and smiles apologetically. From his crouch, he nods at her “Ma’am. Can I help you?” As he stands, towering over them both, he lays a gentle hand on Elena’s forearm as he replaces the scissors next to the stacks of boxes and bundles of ribbon.
Elena lays a hand on the tall man’s arm. “Would you be a dear? My friend is here and we haven’t seen each other in years…” The man smiles broadly at Anuk, then shifts back to Elena. “Why don’t you two catch up. You could do with some air, Lena.” The woman nods, begins untying her apron. She’s about to thank the man, but he waves this off, extends a long arm over the counter to shake Anuk by the hand.
“Bermond Wiltonsey, I’m pleased to meet you.” “Anuk”, she says, a little taken aback by the enthusiasm of the shake. A little lost, she enquires “Do you run this place together?” It sounds lame to her own ear. Ber laughs, pleasantly, gestures to Elena, states plainly “SHE’s the genius. I just make the iced cream.” Delivered evenly and with enough pride to do Wilton proud. And she realises. They are married, and notably, Bermond has favoured his wife by taking her name. Well, her father’s, but that’s about as matriarchal as couples can get in this kingdom.
Elena goes on tiptoes as Bermond cranes towards her, receives a peck on the nose in place of the kiss she was aiming to plant on him. Anuk looks away, a little embarrassed by the clumsy sweetness in the gesture, catches him murmuring “..are you okay, sweetness?” Lena nods, smiles at her husband. “Fine, fine, just a little tired today.” The man relents, purposefully strides to the cabinet containing a couple of containers of creamy gelato. These had gone unnoticed during Anuk’s appraisal of the candies, cakes and pastries. He grabs a couple of cones and scoops balls of the ice cream into them. The semi-solid scoops are steaming gently as he extends them to the pair. No ice apparent in the glass cabinet, but Anuk spots tiny, light blue runes at each corner of the shelf. Looks like the Wiltonseys are doing well if they’ve paid for magic to keep these desserts frozen.
Anuk accepts the cone graciously, sees a little embarrassment cross Ber’s face. “Umm, I hope it’s not too cold out for that…”, but Lena laughs, genuine care in her voice, looks Anuk in the eye and says “He calls ME a genius, Anuk, just wait until you taste this.” She throws her husband an affectionate look. Affectionate, Anuk can’t help but notice, but lacking in any real fire. “I’ll be back in…” Ber shakes his head, a look of wry amusement on his face. “It’s fine, it’s fine, have a walk, have a catchup.” He looks to Anuk, another open, happy smile: “A pleasure to meet you, Anuk; always good to meet one of Lena’s friends.”
Elena shrugs into a crocheted wrap, accepts her cone from her husband, gives Anuk a tight smile and says “Shall we?” Anuk looks up guiltily. She had taken a small mouthful of ice cream and was elsewhere, shocked by how delicious it was. “Mmm!...yes! Thank you.” Sees a look of delight on Ber’s face as he waves the pair goodbye, turning his attention to the shop.
-x-
They’ve only walked for a minute or so, Elena in pensive silence as they both tackle the frozen cones. The woman gestures towards a bench, of course just as Anuk took a little too much of the ice cream into her mouth, but she nods assent. Benches out in the street…the boulevard even! Anuk hadn’t been looking forward to Caladria, thinking it some hick city filled with lumberjacks and criminals. This is a side she wouldn’t have imagined. She expects more silence, but Elena draws a deep breath, looks her directly in the face.
“I suppose this…I mean, if you know Mirry, then…it’s from long ago, I mean from before…” Anuk intervenes “I heard that Mirry became…unwell.” Elena sighs, stares down at her nearly-empty cone. Anuk’s shocked to see a fat tear drop into the woman’s lap, begins to reach out to Elena. The woman looks up into Anuk’s eyes, head shaking as tears continue to come. Desperation in her voice “I mean, I…I’ve done my best for her.” A look of purest tragedy fills her face, as she reaches for Anuk’s free hand with her own. “Listen…listen.” And then, in a rush “Listen, Ber’s a good man!”
There it is. Anuk saw the affection with which Lena treated her husband, but this amount of pain? It’s a holdover from love. True love. First love. A first love that ended horribly. Anuk squeezes Elena’s hand back, returns her deep look. “Mirry only ever talked well about you, Elena…” The woman smiles, but bereft of her earlier warmth. Too much pain, although kindness as she intones “Lena, please”. Anuk smiles, feels genuine warmth for this stranger. “Lena.” Gives her hand another squeeze. “People are…messy, life is complex. I stopped by Mirry’s old home, but Martan…” At this, Elena snorts. Anuk nods “…Martan wasn’t a lot of help.” Elena mutters, almost to herself “It’s not like it’s catching.” She’s obviously exercising an old frustration.
Elena starts as though she received a shock “Omigosh!” Anuk looks perplexed for a moment, watching Lena’s eyes dry, face becoming purposeful. “Of course, you want to visit Mirry! Oh, how foolish…” but Anuk squeezes her hand again. “This…feels important, El...Lena. Say what you need to say. I didn’t know Mirry well, but you were her…” She reaches for the right word, thinking through the journal she has now read dozens of times: “…her heroine. From what I know of her, she would have wanted you to be happy.” Anuk studiously returns to her melting cone, allows Lena some time to respond or to gather herself.
After a minute, Elena takes a shaky breath, smiles at Anuk. “Thank you for that, Anuk. Really, I mean it.” She grins, still breathing deeply. And is suddenly all business. “Mirry is in the care of the Sisters of Apollo. It’s here, just not in the…best part of town.” Makes sense, thinks Anuk: healers. As little as she trusts religious types, any of the Daughters she has encountered have seemed to really care about their charges. And they are ALWAYS in the parts of towns that you wouldn’t choose, partly because that’s where they’re needed most; and, she thinks ruefully, because they truly seem to plough any funding they receive into their charges. Not for them the stained glass and gold..chalices? Gold whatevers.
“Great, Lena, thank you…” Anuk’s about to make her exit, apologise for upsetting the woman, but Lena has other thoughts. She gets to her feet, with only marginal help from Anuk, and begins to lead them back to the shop. “If you’re going, can I give you something for Mirry?” Anuk nods slowly, but the woman is determined. “I’ve tried visiting, honestly I have, but I had to stop. It makes Mirry upset, confused…” She sniffs again, uncharacteristically wiping her nose with her knuckle. She takes a deep breath, squares her shoulders. Raises her chin and stares straight ahead, the effect only made sweeter by her unsteady breath.
As they sweep into the shop, Ber looks up from the customer he’s serving, a stuffy looking man who is apparently buying three boxes of Treats. He doesn’t break conversation with the customer, but his eyes follow Lena. He looks to Anuk with a confused smile as his wife storms into the back room. He just gets finished with the man (Anuk holds the door open as he negotiates it with his cargo) when Lena is back out, holding four cakes in her hands. These are not the intricate wares on which their business is apparently founded, but instead four fairy cakes, iced simply with a sugared jelly button on top.
Wordlessly, Ber nods between Anuk and Lena, then animates his long limbs, grabbing some red tissue paper from a shelf above his wife’s head. She thanks him, folding the cakes into the paper in a tidy package, then presents them to Anuk. Elena again looks dewy-eyed as Ber enfolds her shoulder with one arm. “Thank you, Anuk” the woman says. Anuk doesn’t know what to say, walks woodenly to the door.
