Chapter 4

I walked into the library after the interesting uninformative talk with the waiter – what was his name now? Gregory Louisiana? Or was it Gregory Erie? Ah, I've never been good at names.

I browsed through the books, occasionally shooting looks at the woman who sat behind the desk. She wasn't young, but she was certainly dignified and striking-looking. Not too pretty, but a face that would draw a second look. I found out later that her name was Gertrude Oliver Grant, and she had stood in for a friend who was sick.

My eye caught a pile of old newspapers in a corner while looking at the books. Interested, I made my lumbering way over to the newspapers and began thumbing through them. They seemed to be news concerning mainly the Glen news, and I no longer wondered why the people in the village seemed to be so little interested in the outside world other than the two big wars.

'Rilla Blythe marries today...' 'Carter Flagg closes his store...' 'Norman Douglas dies...' Were those really sensational enough to merit its being mentioned in a NEWSPAPER? One couldn't eat a cookie in this town without the newspaper reporting it, I thought. In my mind's eye there rose the headline: 'Earth-shattering news! Partridge Simmons ate a cookie yesterday in...'

Just as I thought that, my eye fell on an opening paragraph: 'Jem Blythe and Faith Meredith's bodies carted in...'

"Ah!" I said aloud. "Bull's eye!" I drew out the paper cautiously.

Wednesday, July 27th, 1926

Jem Blythe and Faith Meredith's bodies were carted in on Saturday, 25th July. Jem's body came all the way from Holland, where he had been trying to get to Canada from. He wired his parents and told them of his location, and they flew there to take him back, along with Walter and Faith Blythe.

They found him dead there, with little on him except his clothes, some coins for money and a dead rose that Faith had reportedly given him before he left for the war. Jem was announced 'wounded and missing' in May 1918 and no one knew whether he was dead or alive.

So this explains away Walter marrying Faith, I thought.

After the discovery, the four of them remained in Holland for three days before coming back and later on Walter was heard to say that Faith wasn't herself. She took a walk the next afternoon and was discovered later, lying in a pool of blood with her purse gone. We believe that she was robbed and killed while on her walk. Great is our grief at the deaths of these two people.

The funeral was held yesterday, and after the morning church service the double funeral was held. Many people turned up to pay their final respects to the couple. Walter Blythe insisted on giving them a combined tombstone with both their names on it. We extend our most heartfelt condolences to the two families.

That meant that the words, 'You'll never walk alone', were written after the tombstone had been erected. Well, this newspaper article had told me more than the waiter had. What was that chap's name? Gregory Alabama?

"That's a nice story, isn't it?"

I jumped and turned to look at Walter who was staring at me. Fat man as I was, I considered hopping past him and making for the door. On second thought, I decided not to. "Yes," I said boldly.

Walter sighed and glanced at the article. "It doesn't tell the real truth of the matter," he said.

I put down the paper, glad that he didn't seem annoyed, and walked out with him. "What really happened, then?" Soap opera? I thought. Maybe a new storyline for a Broadway musical!