The sun is low in the sky when Jean's stomach's rumbling brings her back to the here and now. The hours pass in a fog going over the papers that Lucien left for her. She gathers the letters, placing them near the whiskey bottle. She calls down to the main desk to order some food. The voice on the other end clearly in shock when Jean gives the room number for the order to be delivered to.
Deciding there is plenty of time for a hot shower before her food arrives, Jean gathers her things from her suitcase and makes her way to the bathroom. The hot water washes away the jumble of thoughts along with the dust and grime of the day. There is so much to put together, so much to decipher to know the next steps. She keeps going over Lucien's words, feeling as if she is missing something.
Jean steps out of the shower grabbing a towel, steam lingering in the bathroom. She can't help but think if the towel that she is wrapping around herself is the same one that dried off Lucien's body the week before. She turns to look in the mirror when she sees something written in the condensation. "What on Earth?" Jean takes a step closer, eyes squinting as she reads, John 11:25-26.
Her eyes widen, as this new piece of the puzzle clicks. She is very familiar with that verse, never missing an Easter mass before marrying Lucien. She quickly goes to the pile of letters, flipping through the papers with one hand as the other holds the towel around her. The letter dated from last week is before her, she reads the line that earlier put fear in her, now looking at it in a different light. I keep dreaming of home but maybe it would be better if I were dead.
If Lucien were to be standing next to her at this moment, he would be grinning watching the look on his wife's face as her mind puts things together. He would tell her how clever she is, more clever than him. She has a whole new perspective, a new clarity to look over everything once again.
She opens the drawer housing the Bible when a knock on the door startles her. "One moment," she calls out, hastily grabbing her dressing gown to cover her still damp body. She opens the door slowly to a young porter with her tray of food.
"Would you like me to bring this in for you?" The porter strains to get a glimpse of the now mysterious room 25.
Jean, suspecting the porter's intention, takes the tray. "I've got this. Thank you." The porter remains still, waiting for a tip. "Oh, just a moment."
When she closes the door on the young man, Jean makes sure the lock is secure. The enormity of what this small room holds for her future with Lucien is overwhelming with the revelation of the clue on the bathroom mirror. She has a strong sense to protect everything that is in the room. With a sandwich and the Bible in hand Jean makes her way over to the small table in the corner. Unable to bring herself to open the book, Jean lays her hand on the cover thinking of a conversation she had with Lucien in a quaint chalet in the Alps.
She can feel his scowl and almost hear his eyes roll from across the room. While he was out collecting some dinner she found the Bible in the bedside table drawer. She can't help but take comfort in the familiar words. Now she doesn't want to divert her eyes to see his face, the look of rejection; that he isn't enough for her.
He finally asks the question that has been on his mind whenever she dare read the Bible in front of him on their honeymoon trip. "Why do you still read it? You know it is just stories?"
She doesn't want to argue with her new husband in this beautiful place but she can't help but feel as if his words are degrading. "Yes, Lucien. I know they are just stories. And I read them because I happen to like these stories."
"Of course, forgive me Jean. I just thought with everything with the church." He finds his place next to her, pulling her close.
Her prickly demeanor melts by his touch, knowing he doesn't mean to sound condescending no more than she is actually angry with him. "I am angry at the archaic rules of the church, angry that the church can say that we are doomed to hell for loving each other." She pauses to compose herself, hating the feelings that rises in her when she thinks of her former church. "I left the Catholic Church not my faith in God. I know you don't necessarily believe Lucien but I do. Reading these words means something to me."
"I know they do and I am ever so sorry. Forgive me?" He kisses her temple.
"Depends on what you brought back for dinner." Lucien let's out a hardy laugh, the heaviness of the moment passes. The book set aside to enjoy an evening with her husband.
This small hotel room in Adelaide is a stark contrast from the romantic chalet of her memory. The dry sandwich is sustenance but that is the only thing good about it. She stares at the Bible hoping some great epiphany will occur, instead she starts counting the crumbs that fall on the cover. It has been a year since she has read any words from the Bible, a year of ignoring the stories she once loved. Is it anger that kept me away from it?
When she thinks about it, her life with Lucien gave her few opportunities to sit and read the words that used to give her comfort drifting to sleep before being wed. "Oh, for heaven's sake," her stalling now becoming her own annoyance.
Jean picks up the book, holds it by the binding and does the first gentle fanning of the pages to see if anything falls out. When nothing lands on the table before her Jean proceeds to flipping through the pages to see if anything stands out. Sure enough, she gets a glimpse of an underlined passage, then another, and another as she goes through.
She gets a pen and her notebook and sits back down at the table. Beginning again she starts to record the verses that she finds marked in blue ink; Mark 16:6, Luke 24:6-7. She has a list of many verses on the page, all pertaining to resurrection. When she comes across Matthew 28:5-6 it is enclosed in a circle indicating its importance. "I won't be afraid, Lucien."
Hours she spends going through the pages, looking for any clues between the covers. The thin paper of the pages is like an old friend. Of course, Lucien would use a book that he has little use for to deliver the messages to her.
It is late when Jean curls up under the covers continuing to read through Lucien's marking. She finds herself laughing out loud at some of Lucien's comments in the margin. Jean's eyes are heavy, she is about to close the book when she sees some red markings. I Peter 4:8 Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins.
The book lands with a thump that jolts Jean from her thoughts. What sins has Lucien committed? She thinks of the sins she is willing to commit to bring him home. She wants to pray for Lucien, for herself but in the dim lamp light the only thing that comes to her mind is thank God I don't take confession any longer.
The finest beam of light from the street lamp makes its way through the drawn curtain, Jean focuses on it as she lies in bed. Her mind is swirling with the day's information. So much has occurred in such a short amount of time. This afternoon going through the letters, she had a fleeting thought of just staying in this room till Lucien walked through the door. Of course she knows that is impossible. Her family, waiting in Ballarat, would worry if she is a day longer than she is supposed to be gone let alone days, weeks even.
But as the night reveals more information she knows what she must do to bring him home. Figuring how to go about it proves to be difficult. The idea that comes to her in the darkness is ludacris or is it. Slowly a plan starts coming into place but she will need help. She turns over in the bed to face the side where Lucien should be. Speaking to the void as if he is there, "I'm going to need Matthew and Alice's help for this. I really don't want to get them involved but I don't know any other way." Once again wrapped in his scent and her mind calmer in the knowledge she has a course of action she drifts to sleep.