Letters to Juliet

by Leia's diary

IT IS TOTALLY PROHIBITED TO PUBLISH THIS STORY ON ANY OTHER PAGE, FACEBOOK GROUP OR BEING NARRATED ON YOUTUBE! 10 years elapsed since Candy's return to Pony's home. As a birthday present, she's been offered a journey to Italy. But she must leave from New-York, the city in which Terry lives... (based upon CCFS by Keiko Nagita)

4. Chapter 4

Letters to Juliet

Chapter 4

Sitting in the sunroom of his Boston luxurious residence, William Albert Andrew put back his cup of coffee on the white-coated table on which was waiting a substantial breakfast. He opened the morning newspaper and began to turn few pages. He ended by stopping on one in particular, and a smile of satisfaction appeared on his slips. That time, he was not interested by the stock prices but by an article devoted to a certain young comedian whom he had very well known in the past. The said article headlines said: « TERRENCE GRAHAM IN LOVE! », followed with a fly-on picture of Terry. The troubled look he displayed did not leave any doubt on the veracity of the journalist's indiscrete revelation. Albert was exulting while reading the tell that detailed the event:

"Ladies, wear you dark veils and take out your handkerchiefs, the young comedian, the Broadway star, the one who makes faint hundreds of admirers on each of his appearances, Terrence Graham, is IN LOVE! Yesterday, on the end of the day, on the pier 88 of the Manhattan harbour station, as we were following for our newspaper the Russian countess Anastasia Pavlovitch's trip, the unusual behaviour of a person who seemed to us familiar, caught our attention. We quickly recognized the famous comedian in this person who was running after the boat Le France and who was belting out as he sent desperate signs to a young unknown woman, passenger on the ship. In front of our dumbfounded eyes, we've attended a display of cries and shouts of joy, a real change to which we were not used to. We can testify this: the sad-faced-actor is able to have feelings! He looked so happy that he did not even try to throw our cameras to the sea. We attempted to ask him some questions but he eluded them with an eloquent smile then left the station with a cheerful path. Obviously, we immediately looked for the identity of that Miss "Candy", whose name had been pronounced by him several times. We suspected that she was the same person who had been evoked few weeks before during his visit at Nightingale-Bradford College, visit that had turned into a scandal and led the sudden leaving of the young actor. (see our article of april…). After consulting the French shipping company, we did not find any person named Candy, but a certain "Candice White Andrew, heir of a rich family of Chicago. We've been able to get in touch with a member of her family who lives in New York, her cousin, Eliza Leagan, who just got engaged with the wealthy weapons dealer, August Withmore. That latter seems to have an opinion very severe opinion regarding her cousin:

"Miss Andrew is a fortune-hunter! She seduced Mr. Graham during their studies in England, then, she became infatuated with my Brother, Niel, who got the good sense to cancel their engagement before it was too late. She is a devious person who had been able to ingratiate our Great Uncle who adopted her. I bemoan the fact that Terrence Graham fell again into the affective trap she set for him. He will regret it bitterly. She brings misery wherever she goes. Besides, she is at the origin of my young cousin's decease, Anthony Brown and she…"

It was enough! Albert, enraged, threw the newspaper on the ground. That Eliza will see it coming! That girl was a real pain, an endless source of evilness! She could not prevent herself from shamefully lying about Candy! He had always felt little esteem for her but he had to admit that it was not contempt that he felt for her now but a real aversion, a disgust for everything she represented: her mediocrity of mind, her awkwardness, her vanity, that her perverse soul maintained narcissistically until leaving behind her, sickening mud that revolted him and made him ashamed. Ashamed above all , for sooner having not put an end to her malfeasances. Him, who had always tried to keep the balance into the family, was realizing, may be a bit too late, the unrecoverable nature of his cousin. Several times, he had given her a chance, but what she had just said in the newspaper had sealed her fate.

His appetite ruined by what he had just read, he left his breakfast and walked to his office with the aim to phone his far-too-much-zealous cousin. It was high time for him to make her understand to leave Candy alone if she did not want to incur his wraths. He was even disposed to the supreme punishment: the definitive exclusion from the family! He did not even care the Great-Aunt could chock with rage. Candy did not deserve such treatment. The Leagan and consorts would have to make their mind to it or renounce to their privileges. His decision was without appeal!

Nevertheless, he should have had expect such violent reaction from Eliza, who always had had a soft spot for Terry. She might have had suffocated with jealousy when the journalist had told about the lovers' reencounter. She had so much done to separate them at Saint-Paul. He regretted that Candy's honour was dirtied by such evil-minded person and reproached to himself his lack of vigilance. Patty, Annie and him had so much struggled to prepare in the best conditions that reencounter that he had completely occulted that pest of Eliza. She was not ready to recover from the serious explanation he will have with her!

Besides this, he was very satisfied of what he had accomplished, and this, thanks to the collaboration of several people. The result was worthy of a secret service's organization:

First of all, Annie, who had given to him very useful advises. Then Patty, who, in spite of her extreme shyness, had been able to face Terry and make him crack. Then this very faithful Irish chauffeur, Douglas. Without letting him into the secret, he had made him understood that his mission could sound incongruous to him but had to be brought to fruition until the end. The success of his plan depended a lot on him. That latter had accomplished his task to the perfection without Candy noticed anything. That in-depth visit of New-York had been imagined to wake up in her, little by little, feelings deeply buried, and provoke an electroshock. The result had been very convincing. But it would have never happened without the help of a last person: Miss Denise, Terry's housekeeper. Albert was aware, thanks to his informants, that this latter liked a lot her boss and that she was despairing to see him so miserable. Then, a morning, he had come and meet her while she was going out for shopping. He had introduced him to her, then, in front of cup of tea in the next Italian restaurant, he had explained to her the situation.

In two days, in the end of the afternoon, a young and ravishing lady will come to you. Her name is Candice White Andrew. If you want Mr Graham's happiness, it would be very clever to be very kind with her. It is very important that she sees the place in which he lives. But, above all, be sure that he won't be there. Do you think you would be able to move him away from his home?

Mr Graham is presently in rehearsals and he comes back home very late. This would not seem to be a problem.

This is perfect then! This young lady will take a boat for Europe the same day and I would like that the hazard informs him about her visit. I don't want him to have any doubts. Then, let him act. I want him to fight to get her back and I'm sure it is what he will do.

The housekeeper, incredulous, had examined her interlocutor, searching the fail that would lead her to refuse his project. But Albert's frank and benevolent gaze had reassured her.

Sir, I have been powerlessly attending that young man's suffering for years. If you promise me that you are offering him happiness, I will endeavour to make this happen.

I don't need to promise you anything, dear Miss. I am certain of that! Those two beings love deeply each other. They were born to live together and it is high time that they understand it.

They had talked for a while to agree about some details, then parted while whishing to each other good luck. Albert was convinced that luck did not have anything to do with this. Destiny only needed to be forced. The obtained result had exceeded his expectations! He knew that Candy would have never been able to resist to the temptation to come closer from Terry's home, which would have overwhelmed her. As for Terry, he had imagined him coming back home in the evening and discovering Candy's visit, but he would have never thought he would have been able to meet her back at the harbour. He was exulting! The contact between his two charges was relinked, only remained to them to make a path towards each other. He guessed that they would endeavour to be reunited.

He sighed with joy as he pushed his office's door. George, a smile of complicity to the corner of his lips, was standing next to the desk, holding the telephone receiver.

- A call for you, Sir. This is Terrence Graham…

Douglas O' Loughlin left his girlfriend's apartment in a hurry. He had passed a bad night. The events of the day had passably perturbed his sleep, and he had finally fallen asleep in the early morning only. Martha, who used to have a deep sleep, had not awakened either, and the streets noises were already manifesting vividly under their window as they finally opened the eyes. Realising the late hour, he had jumped from his bed as quickly as a flash, freshened up, gotten dressed at the same speed, not without having laid a kiss on her beloved's pulpous lips, languishing on their bed.

Reaching the street, he ran to his car, hoping that at the office, they would not bear him a grudge for his delay. During Albert's absence, he used to become the chauffeur of the company's high white-collars, unfortunately less indulgent than his original boss. He crossed the city at a spanking pace, several times missing nearly an accident and finally stopped in Wall Street's quarter, in front of the building which hosted the Andrew, Cornwell & Brown Corporation's offices. He took the stairs four at a time and walked immediately toward the secretary's office in charge of his diary.

Hello Maggie, sorry to be late – he said, breathless – Any missions for me that morning?

Lost in the reading of a newspaper, the curl-haired brunette did not answer.

Maggie ?

The assistant ended up raising her head, and wiped with a handkerchief, a big tear that pearled under her bifocals.

What's wrong, Maggie? – asked the chauffeur, worried about his colleague's distress.

As an answer, she cried even harder and ran away to the toilets. Aback, he bent over the desk, took the newspaper and searched for the article that troubled so deeply the poor Maggie. As he read the title, he let escape a sigh of relief.

He finally found you, Miss! – he said to himself, a comforting warmth enveloping his heart. He had so much worry about his pretty passenger that this happy news was fulfilling him with joy. Controlling with difficulty his euphoria, he could not retain a blissful smile that unfortunately crossed the secretary's grinning face who had just come back. Noticing his contentment, she moaned even more and went back to her hiding place. He stood few seconds transfixed, then ensconced himself in the armchair that faced the desk, and waited patiently for the storm to pass. The reading of a certain article would help him to kill time, and it was with the real satisfaction of a well-done job that he plunged back in it with delectation…

Terry was ramping. After looking into the matter at the sailing company, he had just learnt that the next boat to Europe would not leave before two days, and this really depressed him. He had left Candy the day before and he could not stand the idea of losing the least day to meet her back. Whatever he could do, he would have to face the facts: she would always be ahead of him, and it was to him to try and shorten the distance that separated them.

That present morning, he had called Albert and begged him to tell him Candy's destination. That latter had welcomed him warmly, but had also hastened to warn him: joining back Candy would not be an easy task and he did not intend to make things easier for him.

You must understand, Terry. Candy has too much suffered. I don't want to take the risk of a new disillusion. You'll have to fight to get her back. She is like a jewel, precious and delicate, a treasure that has to be earned. I will only give to you a name: Venice. If you really love her, you'll find her back. But, above all… Do not disappoint me!...

Surprised, Terry had muttered few words of thanks and had hung up. A strange feeling melted with anguish and anger had invaded him. Anguish, because he was feeling lost before so little indications that were supposed to lead him to Candy, and anger to have to prove the sincerity of his feelings. How could Albert doubt so easily his good faith while his life was only despair and desolation since their break-up? How could he let him go that way for a wide travel, with one only thing, the name of a town in which he had never been? Venice, the city of lovers… A real strange destination that suggested a happy conclusion: their reencounter! He did not have any doubt about this and he would prove to Albert what he was able to do, even though he may spend his life searching her.

But for the moment, in spite of the conviction he would demonstrate, his unfortunate situation was complicating his good will. Leaned upon the low wall of his terrace, he was looking at the Hudson River that was moving along away and flowing into Manhattan Bay. The foghorn of a cargo ship came to him then, and a brilliant idea crossed his mind. If a cruise ship would not leave for Europe today, it should be certainly a different matter for freight cargoes! But they still had to accept to take him on board… But he had muscles under his svelte silhouette. He was able also to swear until make blush a chorus of nuns, smoke like a chimney, and drink like a fish if necessary. Without a moment's thought, he prepared his pack, then wrote a letter for his mother who was on tour in the whole country, and another one for Robert Hathaway, the theatre company's director. In his letters, he was explaining the reasons of his sudden leave. He hoped that this latter would not bear him a grudge for leaving him in full preparation of their future show, and that he would not fire him from the troupe. But he was disposed to take the risk of it. Since his meeting with Candy, everything looked hollow to him. If this meant the renouncing of his carrier, he accepted it, as long as he finds back his beloved, the sooner possible!

Upon leaving, he handed the letters to his housekeeper, who insisted that he took a paper bag that contained a meal she had just prepared for him.

You must save your forces to find her, Sir. – she said with a shaking voice, as she buried the bag in his pack.

Thank you, Denise. You are an angel – did Terry, as troubled as she.

He gave a hint of an outstretched hand to her, that she seized shyly. But as he was passing the doorstep, she drew him to her and pressed him strongly against her heart, as she would have done with her own child. She finally stepped back, with her eyes full of tears.

Take care, Sir. I will pray for your safe travel and I wish you to be both reunited as soon as possible. Good luck!

Moved, Terry thanked her a last time then disappeared in the lift. He leaned against the metallic wall and closed his eyes, sighing. He was leaving for the unknown, he did not know how he was going to behave, but he was delighted to be on the way that would lead him to Candy, freed of his fetters that shackled him. He was so eager to live that blessed day that would reunite them both. Because of this, he hadn't sleep all night and he knew already that his sleep would be all along very light. Happiness was at last within reach and he intended to appreciate any of its least instants.

As arriving in the street, he hailed a taxi which drove him the harbour of freight. Then, provided with his whole courage, taking a deep breath, he walked up the pier, his heart full of hope.

A sailor, leaning against a docking post, was smoking a cigarette.

You should go and see at the café behind you – he moaned as he spitted a piece of tobacco leaf – This is the place in which are negotiated this kind of transactions. If you have money, you'll find someone without any problem.

The place was passably smoked out. Many people were standing around tables, engaged in drinking a beer, reading a newspaper or playing cards. They looked up as the young actor came in and giggles came from all sides. Though he had carefully got simply dressed, he obviously did not have the sailor look. Sun and sea sprays had not tanned his skin, his hands were not horny for having too much pulled ropes, and his nails were not darkened by the sludge. Feeling uncomfortable, he walked to the bar and explained his situation to the barman. While getting on wiping glasses, that latter pointed with his head a four peopled table, with little encouraging faces, in full poker play. Apprehensively, he went closer.

Excuse me…

Don't you see you are bothering us, man?!... – Grumbled one of the players, frowning malevolently. The others around the table were getting on playing as if nothing happened and were ignoring him. It was not very welcoming as a way in, but Terry did not let himself get discouraged.

Let me insist! – He said with a firmer tone. They were visibly testing him and he intended to make them understand that they were not dealing with a snobbish who wanted to show off on the docks. Anyway, when coming to scrap, he was an expert. He had not been practicing it for a while, but he didn't really mind a good fight. This would remind him of the good old days.

I think I haven't been clear enough with you!... – did the sailor, infuriated, laying back his cards on the green baize. He stood up, thrusting out his massive build, overhanging of one head the young actor, who did not get troubled. His love for Candy was giving him bravery to spare!

To the contrary, you've been very clear! And if you prefer we talk about this outside, I'm your man!

No need to go outside, moron! - Cried out the colossus, throwing him an uppercut that made him toppling over few meters behind, tipping over a chair on his way.

Holding proudly his fits on his hips, he was looking him up and down, chuckling with a raucous and nasty laugh that showed the bad state of his clogged lungs. Still groggy, shaking his head to recover his minds, Terry got up, and painfully stood ready to fight. But he quickly realized that he had far too much overestimated himself. In spite of all his courage, winning through that mountain of muscles sounded improbable. One punch only had already half-knocked him out, the next one had all chances to be fatal for him. He should as well face his destiny with panache! Most of his ancestors had died fighting. He was not going to fail in the custom. Fists forward, legs apart, he faced his gigantic adversary who was dangerously coming closer, growling like a beast.

A clout wasn't enough to you!... – he cried out, raising a threatening hand, as big as a beater.

It was almost falling down on him when a voice coming from the back of the room, interrupted it in its swing.

If I were you, Youri, I would stop my silliness now!...

Huh? What? – Lowed the Hungarian giant, searching in all directions the careless troublesome. He finally saw him, hidden in the darkness, sitting on a chair half-leaning against the wall, a cap covering up his face.

What it's got to do with you? – He howled, moving his big ogre feet until him.

The foolhardy or unconscious person didn't look impressed, lifting with his forefinger the corner of his cap and followed:

I'm just telling you, brainless-bully, that if you want to be cursed for the rest of your life by the one whose pictures cover your cabin, please, get on smashing her son's face!

To those words, the maniac's fist fell down as fast as he had risen. That latter turned to Terry, dazed. He walked back to the young actor, who, with a survival instinct, stepped back immediately. He looked at him carefully during few seconds, put his big drunken noise before his, that he had aesthetically perfect.

What my friend over there said is right? You are Eleanor Baker's son?

Yes, indeed, sir, I'm her son – Terry heard himself mumbling as he wondered if he hadn't fallen into the crazies'.

Out of the corner of his eye, he was trying to distinguish the cap-headed man's face, but could not perceived much. This is when the Hungarian dealt him a strong hint in the back that made him knock over three meters further.

hahaha! My word! Eleanor Baker's son! This is unbelievable!

The muscle man's face had lightened up with a big smile that lifted the scare that barred his right eye. His voice became softer.

You couldn't tell us that when you arrived?

Tell what? – Terry said, bending in two, hands on his tights, as he tried to recover his breath – "Hello, I'm Eleanor Baker's son!" Do you think this is the way I use to introduce myself?

The bull wasn't listening to him. One thing only obsessed him: Eleanor Baker, the most popular actress of America, the one who had broken his heart, since his gaze had laid itself on one of her theatre posters, many years before.

You have no idea! – He said, holding Terry's hand and shaking it until almost dislocating his shoulder, squeezing it so strongly that the young man could not retain a shout – I'm a big admirer of your mother! I've even been to see her in Broadway!

Terry stayed petrified with stupefaction. Five minutes before, that savage was jumping on him, determined to crush him, and he was now standing before him, as meek as a lamb, addressing to him politely, cooing and batting his eye lashings.

Do you think you could get me an autograph of your mother, Mister Baker? – he asked, imploring.

O…Of course… As soon as I see her again… - Terry mumbled, without understanding yet that turnaround. He was even more surprised to be called by his mother's last name. Him, who had chosen the name of Graham to avoid any reproaches about his filiation with his parents, thought it was comical. But he did not want to take the risk to contradict him.

Oh, Thank you! Thank you! – cried out the muscle man, pressing his new friend against him, jumping up and down until making crack the floor and shake the furniture.

Then, he wrapped his huge arm around the young man's shoulders and offered him a seat at his table.

I hope you don't hold against me for having been teasing with you – he said, chuckling with embarrassment, as he motioned to the barman to bring them beers. – My roughly sense of humour is sometimes misunderstood…

Of course, I'm not very familiar with Hungarian humour… - Terry answered, disconcerted.

Teasing!... He almost smashed my head, and he was calling that tease?

Let's then drink the glass of peace, mister Baker! – Cried out Youri as he raised to him his beer-filled mug.

Terry hesitated for an instant, then ended accepting the invitation. The two men clinked glasses, joined by the whole table. The surrounding rumpus had taken back the upper hand over the heavy silence that had settled during the fight. Terry drank few gulps, smiling nervously. One thing obsessed him: the cap-headed man's identity. Unable to wait any longer, he apologized to Youri and his friends, stoop up and walked towards the intriguing person who had not moved from his place. Upon arriving in front of him, he observed him for a while, searching the least indices that would allow its identification. He looked young, medium sized, but he still remained unknown to him though that latter seemed to know a lot about him. Irritated, he asked him:

You seem to know me very well, sir. Can you tell me whom do I have the pleasure of speaking with?

Hahahaha! – Laughed the unknown, shaking on his chair – You didn't change at all, dude! Still your nob airs!

I don't allow you to speak to me that way, sir! – Cried out Terry, offended by such familiarity.

Furious, he snatched his cap. He wanted to see the face of the one who was so outrageously laughing at him. As he discovered his interlocutor's sketches, he stood flabbergasted. Those big black eyes which were mischievously looking at him, this mocking smile, those red hair, everything reminded him of a young boy he had met in another life, on the piers of Southampton harbour, the day when he had left Saint-Paul Academy to go to America. Step by step, he was getting back his memory.

Oh Lord! Cookie!

It really took you long time to recognize me! – exclaimed the young seaman, bursting out laughing – Ah Terry, I could never have imagined meeting you there!

The two young men warmly gripped each other, guffawing, under the dazed gaze of the bar's clients.

You really didn't change at all! I've left a kid and I find a man! – cried out Terry, stepping back to better detail his friend.

Well, when we met, you were not so much older than me, you know. I was already 15!

Really?... You're right… Effectively, I was not so much older. Pfewwwww! Indeed, we were some young adventurers!

And we did well finally, didn't we? You became a great star and I, I travel all over the seas like I've ever dreamed to. It sounds like we've succeeded in life!

Terry nodded sadly, little convinced by his friend's remark. How could he tell him that his life wasn't as perfect as it seemed.

But Terry, tell me. What are you doing here? You did not come to the harbour to fight like cat and dog?

Actually, no…- he answered, rubbing his still-painful chin – I'd like to take a boat for Europe as soon as possible.

Well… You haven't gone and seen at the sailing company ?

Yes, I've been there, but the next boat only leave in two days, and I can't wait so long!

Cookie was looking at him, trying to understand. Then suddenly, an impish smile grinned his face.

My friend, you must have a good reason to be in such a hurry to leave. And I would not be surprised to learn that there is a girl below this…

It's a bit of it, yes… - did the young actor, blushing, rubbing his neck with embarrassment.

Don't tell me it's again about that pretty blonde whom you were, on that time, crazy about? Hold on… Candy, am I right?

Yes, indeed, it's her! You really have a good memory!

I've to admit she was really pretty.

Did I describe you so well?

Oh yes, and all night long!- he answered, laughing- But I was even more convinced of it when seeing her in the flesh!...

Terry was looking at him, mouth wide-open, eyes rounded with surprise. The young sailor, meanwhile, was getting a wicked pleasure playing mystery.

Explain yourself, Cookie! How do you know Candy?

Cookie waited few seconds to answer, enjoying himself with his friend's astonished face.

It is a small world, isn't it? Guess what, we met on Southampton Harbour, few days after your leaving. As I wanted too, she was searching for going to America. And as we were both without any money, we travelled illegally.

Illegally? – cried out Terry, a shiver of anxiety running up along his body – I did not know Candy had to take so many risks to go back to America!

That girl is resourceful! She amazed me on several occasions!

It sounds crazy, but it looks like her so much! Nothing has ever frightened her, neither made her step back, even if it meant travelling in the back of a hold! Ah Candy, my beloved, what weren't you capable of to get what you want?

Cookie shook his friend's arm, who, an absent smile on the lips, was daydreaming like a blissful one.

I see she really has bewitched you! – he did, laughing as he aped his beatific smile. Terry nodded in agreement, chuckling with a candid air.

Bewitched and made idiot! – Cookie followed maliciously.

Against all odds, Terry shrugged off. He did not intend to contradict him. Loving Candy was making him euphoric, and if it had to be taken for craziness, he did not mind at all. For him, it was synonym to congratulation.

Two seats had just become available at the bar, and with a head signal, Cookie invited him to follow him. Each one sat down on a stool, then ordered a beer to the bartender who served them two very fizzy drinking-mugs. Terry, for the second time in few minutes, clinked. Both mugs hit cheerfully each other, and a little of beer tipped over the edge. They brought the dark and thick beverage to their lips, and Irish one, with strong flavours of caramel, named Guinness. Though lover of big and malted Scottish beers, he could not deny their gustative qualities, but refrained from saying it, by pure Scottish chauvinism. Cookie swallowed his as it was a simple glass of water, then put it back on the bar with a burp of satisfaction. He had visibly adapted himself very well to the sailing manners and scrupulously followed them. His thirst quenched, he came back to their talk.

I know how secretive you are, Terry, but you can't hide me anything. Why do you want to go to Europe? I was sure you would finally be together. This is why she was going to America. What did happen, my friend?

That's a long story!...- sadly sighed Terry, unconsciously playing with a matchbox – Our paths crossed each other several times, but we haven't been able to be reunited. A dramatic event prevented us from this…

This might have really been terrible to have the power to separate you both. She loved you so much!

With a lump in his throat, Terry lowered his head and stared at his beer to hide the tears that were waving on the edge of his eyes. It was very painful for him to recall that period of time. In spite of the years, he had not gotten used to it. He had lived all those years without her like a real torture. All his hopes of happiness ruined in a second… On that time, he so much wish he had died under the fall of that spotlight rather than having to live all those years without her, alongside someone whom he did not have any feelings for but indifference. She was dead now. May she rest in peace… But he wasn't more cured of his wounds. Was he really made for happiness, him, that misfortune had been hounding permanently. Only an angel was able to put an end to that malediction, a blond angel with a nose dotted with freckles, and who would climb trees like a squirrel.

Candy… - he muttered, sighing sadly.

A comforting hand came and alighted on his shoulder.

You'll find her, Terry. Keep the faith… In few days, you'll be with her. Be patient. What are few days compared to the lost years far from her?

I don't even know where to find her… - he moaned, plunging his head in his hands – I've got only the name of a town and I've to deal with that. Venice…

Venice? Well, this is more romantic than Dunkerque! I wish I had the chance to look for my ladylove in the alleys of that beautiful city! But I should get one first… That's enough joking for now. Let's focus on your case… You see that man who is smoking a pipe at Youri's table? He is the captain of the boat on which I work. You are lucky, we are leaving tonight for Europe, I mean, England. This is not Italy, but it will move you closer…

I could maybe wait for another boat… - offered Terry, disappointed for such bad luck.

You could, of course, but to my knowledge, the next one for Italy won't leave before several days. When arriving in Southampton, you'll be able to take a shuttle which will bring you to France, and from there, you'll be able to take the first train towards the south. You'll see Venice sooner than you think.

Terry was silently listening to him, with a sceptical air.

Our boat is half-loaded that time. She will sail much faster than usual. We could have waited several days until her full loading, but it would have cost more money to stay docked because of the harbour charges. You know, if needed, we might arrive before Candy.

I'd like so much to believe you – said Terry, sighing – But destiny turns against me and I bet it's been again preparing me something to prevent me from finding her.

It won't happen as long as you stay by your pal's sides, Cookie ! My friends nicknamed me "Lucky", that must mean something!

Terry gave a hint of smile before the efforts of conviction expended by his friend.

Do you think then that your captain will accept me on board? I can pay, you know.

Tssss, tssss! This is not the most important thing, though I don't see him refusing some notes… But above all, we need arms, and some sea exercises will be very good to you. You look peaky and skinny… If Candy sees you with that look, she will runaway!

I'll try then to keep her!... – Terry answered, laughing – I'm not afraid of working, Cookie, and I would be very pleased to help you during that crossing.

Fine, man! Let's close all of this with the captain. Since now, you're a member of the Gull's crew. But avoid upsetting Youri, he's hotheaded!...

In spite of Cookie's wink, Terry's stomach almost turned. Knowing that he would have to be in contact, during several days, with Youri-the-terrible, did not exactly thrill him, but if he needed to do this to find quicker his pretty Candy, he accepted his fate without balking. He was eager to leave, eager to feel the heave balancing the boat, eager to sail towards Candy and join her at the City of the Doges, the Italian setting that would attend their reencounter. Nevertheless, he wondered, as they were approaching Youri's table and feeling his big hand coming friendly to smash his back, how he was going to arrive at destination without being lame or disfigured. The big brute's predatory smile did not reassure him at all, but he gave his smile back to him, keeping a shout of pain, under his traitor of a friend's enjoying smile, who was trying to not burst out of laughing.

Candy's first night was very troubled. She couldn't get used to the pitching and rolling. But in reality, she was unable to sleep a wink, too much obsessed she was for what she had just lived.

Terry !….

She had seen Terry again! And in spite of the certitude of having seen him well and truly, she could not prevent her from doubting it. All along those years, she had forced herself to forget him, to stay far from him. And suddenly, everything had changed all over! He would spring out from the crowd, call her name, run after the boat which took her! She felt like if that long and painful period of time without him had disappeared, like if it had never existed, like if they had never been separated… She could just close her eyes and see his wonderful smile again, his bewitching aqua-marina eyes, his beautiful face beaming with joy, such unusual expression from him that she was still recovering from this. Terry had moved to the port for her. Then, could she hope that she was still meaning something to him? In spite of the evidence, she remained in her doubts and kept that inconsistency by voluntarily omitting to tell Patty about it. Despite the intense joy that was living in her, she refused to tell her what had happened. What is the point of annoying her friend with a story that might get no following? To sum up, Terry could have been on the port by accident and his presence could have had nothing to do with her… Once again, doubt overwhelmed her and she sighed sadly, hoping that sleep would come to relieve her from those negative thoughts that were harassing her.

She only fell asleep of exhaustion in the early hours, but her rest was of short duration. The boat was waking up in the rhythm of the sunrise, with her machines' noises and her staff who was walking along the corridors. Then, little by little, the rooms' doors began to slam, the kids' shouts to spread over, finishing pulling her out of her sleep. Drowsy, she went to draw the curtains that hid the wide porthole of her bedroom, and received in full face the blinding light of a blazing sun. She closed her eyes and remained a moment under the invigorating heat, but when opening them to look at the ocean, she had to turn her head to the other side because the waves' movement across the opening disturbed her until unbalancing her. She was also very hungry for having been unable to eat since the day before. A very good breakfast would invigorate her. There was something with her that could never change: her stomach that was able to deal with her emotions. But that time, it would be more difficult because what was gnawing her was not hunger. Those butterflies that were moving in her belly had nothing to do with her appetite. She suspected that this strange and unpleasant feeling would accompany her as long as her mind is not straight. But how to remain serene while all her being was burning with the desire to see Terry again? According to her calculation, the journey to Le Havre was going to last around ten days. When arriving, even if she immediately took another boat to return to America, she would not be back home anyway before three weeks. Even more, she could not leave alone Patty who relied on her. No, she absolutely had to bring herself to wait six weeks to see him again and to sweat out. It was another reason to remain silent about it to prevent Patty from feeling guilty, whether not she would be able to force her to leave. Now, she had to devote to her girlfriend, appreciate the chance she had to be happy in her heart, and fulfilled in friendship. For the first time since years, Candy could feel a sincere and comforting joy, freed from any pretence. She did not have to simulate anymore. She was really happy and she really intended to appreciate any thrills from this until her comeback to America.

Until now, the crossing had unfolded perfectly. The Gull, supported by a clement weather, was sailing in a good rhythm, so well that Cookie's forecasts seemed to be fulfilled. Without any change of the weather, they would be able to see the British coasts soon, and Terry had all difficulties to hide his eagerness. Yet, one's could not say that he was bored on the boat. Though he was not a sailor, he had been assigned to some tasks of hull maintenance, which meant: sanding, cleaning, screwing, covering the pernicious rust with paint that on and on eroded the metal. Each morning, since the sunrise, after breakfast, dressed with his coveralls, he used to climb the 20 meters high open-air stairs that separated him from his cabin, then, used to start working and only stopped when the cooker rang the bell that announced the meal. On evening, they used to eat all together in the dining room, laughing and sharing the stories of their lives, often exiting and moving. Then, Youri the music lover, used to sing songs of his country, his Slavic accent, strong and lyrical, taking them, within few notes, towards faraway lands, proud and wild. Actually, Youri was not a bad guy and Terry had ended up liking him, as he had got attached to all his fellows of journey, some strapping but nice men, who did not have a simple life. They used to go back home twice a year only, and used to spend the rest of the time on the boat. During the crossing, alongside those men who never complained, Terry understood how privileged he was and promised to himself that he would never complain again about his fate. Contrary to the appearances, his job was not so easy. It demanded to work hard, a lot of concentration, perfection, but the rewards he used to receive in return seemed very exaggerated to him, up to the limit of indecency compared to what he could witness here. Those men will never be adulated, glorified when arriving at the port, though they would have crossed the sea, faced storms to bring back goods eagerly waited for. While he was paid astronomical amounts to get on stage and tell words, with very much talent of course, but did it deserve such veneration? He envied those men who would stick together when one of them was not very fine, while he was only surrounded with people who dreamed to take his place, who criticized him, to such a point that he always felt in a situation of competition, as he always had to prove something at each one of his appearances. But innerly, he knew that he would never change that for nothing in the world, because his love for theatre exceeded all those deviousness. The passion that lived inside him had been his best friend all along the sordid years he had gone through. It had helped him to go on living though he had lost the taste of it, it had accompanied him, faithful and discrete, and he wondered what would have happened to him if he had not had it. But, for the first time here, he wasn't feeling alone, he was realizing that he was able to get friends, good fellows who did not see in him the famous artist, but a simple young man who had invented an armour to better protect himself from the tragedies of his life, and who, little by little, was letting fall his last defences and letting aside his arrogance. Cookie used to share his cabin with him, and very often, before sleeping, they used to tell each other some moments of their life. Paradoxically, Terry, usually little talkative, loved to confide to him, and was full of stories about Saint-Paul Academy and the big times in which he had teased Candy. Cookie, then, used to go into memorable bursts of laugher that he suppressed quickly as someone used to knock against the wall because of the noise. But, most of the time, they used to fall asleep in full conversation, overcome with exhaustion.

Terry's life on the boat was elapsing peacefully. For his safety, some places were forbidden to him, like the mooring deck, on departure and on arrival. For that matter, Cookie had brought him back some frightening anecdotes, like that former colleague who had his leg cut by a brutal comeback of the mooring-rope, or that other one who had the finger's extremity cut off, caught between the heavy ship's doors. In those rare occasions, he used to go to the wheelhouse from which there was the best view of the whole boat. The controlling machines were rather rudimentary, but did not prevent from fascinating him, admiring towards the captain and his officers' know-how, able to locate themselves in the sea with simple maps, papers, pens and compass. Sometimes, when reaching a moment of pause, he liked searching for some air of the open sea and for this, he had to follow a narrow bridge above the emptiness, and get the external bridge. From there, he dominated the load and the horizon. He liked coming and seating in the front, the wind hitting his face, his long brown locks flogging his face that had lost his paleness and got a pretty golden colour that emphasized the glaze of his turquoise big eyes. But what he liked the most was the show that was waiting for him at that place: the painters' ballet, hung in the air on swings that were attached to the rail, putting another coat of paint on the cargo's hull. That evoked him the New-York skyscrapers workmen, who, besides being good workers, had mainly to be good climbers and good equilibrists. Terry, because of his lack of experience, did not have the right to participate in those works, but he envied those sailor men who could freely swing themselves along the hull, refreshed by the spoondrifts and followed by the sea birds.

But that night, the sea wanted to impress them. The sun had run away, the sky had quickly clouded, the air had gotten fresher, and the horizon was narrowing little by little.

- Hummmmmmm… We're going to have a very good storm! – said Cookie as they were getting in.

With his lips covered with the salt washed up by the sea air, that sticky salt that stuck to the shoes and that squeezed every where in the boat, Terry went to have a quick shower and wear something clean before staying up becomes impossible because of the eddies. As he joined back his fellows to the dining room that was also the resting room, the swell ripples were getting more vigorous. The boat was shaking. Terry sat down in a corner and tried to read a book, but he had to give up quickly as the pitching was turning his stomach. Outside, it was now really dark; nothing could be seen far away. The violent wind blasted with gusts the cargo's hull and windows, reinforced by a torrential rain that splatted with clamour on the walls. The ship followed the waves' movements that were becoming gigantesque, making several meters swoops down, so well that one's had to hold on to anything possible to avoid falling down and rolling in the room, with the risk to get hurt when bumping against something. Suddenly, a wave stronger than the others, shook the boat as light as a feather. Every one in the room got sent hurtling in all directions, and when Terry was able to get up, his head hurt. But he did not have the time to check if his wound was deep as a man, stained with soot, opened with precipitation the door and yelled:

There's fire ! There's fire in the engines room !

The whole crew rushed then to the backgrounds. Yet, an acrid and dark smoke was reaching and invading the narrow corridors. The alarm siren had been activated and a deafening din filled the ship. There were yells from everywhere, and the orders mixed with the superiors' panicked ones. Youri-the-husky had gone back up to the deck to activate the water pump while downstairs, the pipes full of seawater were crossed to water the flames. The smoke was so thick that it was hard to see what was happening in the engines room. Cookie decided then to approach the fire that leaked the vapour machines to better contain it. Provided with a simple scarf around his mouth, and with his fire hose, deaf to his congeners' calls who were intimating him come back, he entered the furnace, and disappeared in the opaque clouds. It is when an explosion resounded and strongly weakened the boat. Terry, like many other sailor men, suffered violently the blast, and found himself several meters behind.

Still in shock, he found difficulties to recover his mind. The fire was resisting in the engines room, but the worse had just happened. The explosion had opened a hole in the hull and some water was starting to seep in.

We are sinking! – someone cried out behind him – Get the lifeboats ready and send out an s.o.s !

That was the captain's voice, firm and confident, in spite of the tragic nature of the situation. The most important thing was to act and to save the crew. The fire was able to make everything explode at any moment and they had to leave the place as quickly as possible. But as he was leaving too, Terry realized that Cookie had not come back out of the inferno.

- Cookie ! – he cried out as he went back to the engines room's entry. But a strong grip retained him from moving forward.

It's too late, man. With that explosion, nothing much must remain of Lucky – said the sailor, shaking sadly his head – There is nothing more to do but trying to save our skin. Hurry up, come with me!

But the young man was not listening to him. Cookie was his friend. He could not abandon him that way. He was in danger and he had to rescue him!

Freeing himself from the sailor's grip, he ran towards the stokeholds' entry, and without any hesitation, entered into the flames that swallowed him whole, under the seaman's horrified eyes.

That night, Candy woke up with a start, her face bathed with tears. The horrible images of Terry surrounded with flames she had seen in her dream looked so real that she wanted to yell. She got up, and went, breathless, to the bathroom to serve herself a big glass of water. A big headache was hurting horribly and she took an aspirin pill to calm it down. She saw then her haggard looking in the mirror and put her hand across her tangled and damp hair with a sigh. She knew that she wouldn't be able to find sleep again after that nightmare. So, she had a shower, letting for a long time the warm water flowing along her pretty curves, with the hope that it would calm her. But the frightening and terrifying images were still haunting her. In quest of some fresh air, she decided to go for a walk along the deck. She dressed up quickly, wore her warmest jacket and left her bedroom. At that late hour of the night, she did not meet anybody on the way. She walked along the corridors then pushed the first door that could get her to the deck. The sky was well cleared and welcomed the almost full moon which silvery halo bathed the walkway with a milky light and made it more practicable. Candy felt immediately the sea air on her face and filled her lungs with it. She had always been told that breathing deeply and slowly was an excellent remedy against anxiety, but after ten minutes of respiration, she thought that the one who has imagined that precept was either an incorrigible liar or a premium incompetent, since the so awaited result sounded opposite to its prescriptions. Molded with concern, trembling, she looked for a deckchair to settle down on. She chose one that was away from the wind with a bird's eye view on the lower deck and on the undulating sea limited by the horizon. She took the blanket from it, covered herself with it, and laid down. The moon was reflecting on the waves like in a mirror, getting deformed depending on the undulations, silently, as if trying not to disturb anybody. Only pierced in the night, the light frictions of the boat on the billows.

Little by little, Candy's heart beat less strongly and her breath took a more regular rhythm. The serene atmosphere of the place worked with more efficiency than her own efforts. She tried then to reason herself. It was just a bad dream like many others she had had before. And even if it sounded real, Terry couldn't be in such a terrible situation, surrounded by machines on fire. Of course, he was safe in New York, busy in the rehearsal of one of his theatre plays. That bad dream was only the representation of her fear to lose him one more time while she had just met him again. As she was physically moving away from him, though she would have ardently wished to be with him, all her doubts, all her apprehensions expressed themselves that way. She had to chase those terrible images that only were the fruits of her imagination. To change her mind, she tried to think again about the crossing that was just about to end and about the pleasant time she had. She had not taken real holidays for years. Surprisingly, she did not miss her work at Dr Martin's clinic and she had not think about it for a while. Albert had assured her that her replacing was planned since long time ago, very well organized, so well that she did not have to worry about anything. As a result, she had accepted his wise advises and taken the decision to fully enjoy her weeks off. Patty was a pleasant travelling companion. They had a lot of fun together and took part in the numerous activities offered on the boat: baths in the swimming pool, ping-pong or deck-tennis games. After this, exhausted by their activities, they had the habit to grant themselves with long moments of reading or of laziness on the deck chairs, and to recover their strengths in the main lounge around delicious cocktails and bridge games. On evening, they usually had dinner at the captain's table who liked being surrounding with pretty ladies and rich people. Besides, they had shocked the guest when evoking their respective jobs.

What ?- had taken offense Countess Pavlovitch – You work ? People in your position?

And we do earn our life thanks to it… - had replied Patty, vexed, taking a wicked delight in disconcerting the Russian aristocrat.

Don't worry, we only do that for money… - had maliciously added Candy – But I've to confess to you that I'm happy to have been adopted because I would have never been able to offer myself such a beautiful cruise!

A… Adopted? – had chocked the countess.

Indeed, I grew up in an orphanage, then Sir William Andrey adopted me at thirteen years old as I was working as a maid at my cousins'…

A heavy silence had just beaten down on the table, everybody staring with embarrassment at one's plate. But, suddenly, as angel was passing, a ringing burst of laugher had burst out from the other side of the table. It was Margareth Brown alias Molly Brown, a wealthy widow, who, though having come through the Titanic's sinking, still enjoyed cruises.

Hohoho! – You are both so funny! You remind me of the young woman I was at the same age!

Candy and Patty had looked to each other, surprised and delighted with that unexpected support.

Continue that way, miss! Just rely on yourself and do not act like some people who live in a past that does not exist anymore.

The countess had started before the thinly veiled allusion of the rich American.

Indeed, madam, the world is changing! – had followed Mrs Brown, insisting on each syllable – Women work, have the right to vote, and do not need anymore an husband to be autonomous. Does that freedom scare you, countess?

Embarrassed for being so frankly questioned, the aristocrat had not answered to her and had taken profit of the providential arrival of the desserts to change the subject to a gastronomy topic. The others guest had hypocritically thrown themselves on it, which had emphasized the surrounding uneasiness.

I bet she's even unable to cook an egg!... had moaned Molly Brown, shrugging off.

Candy, patty and their new friend's gazes had crossed each other, and they had dissolved into laugher like blissful ones. They had just rushed their leaving with a vague excuse, and had followed their talking, isolated in a smaller lounge, in front of an excellent espresso.

What a bunk of snooty ones! – had cried out Molly, fluttering vigorously her fan – What do they know about life to judge you that way ? They are only good at counting their greenbacks while they ignore how much it costs to earn them!

Do not worry Mrs Brown, I'm used to this kind of behavior and they do not offend me anymore – had answered Candy with a smile – I've had the luck of being raised up by two wonderful women who taught me the real values of the existence and this helped me a lot in the following. Those people are more to be pitied than to be despised because they wouldn't be anything without their fortune, whereas if I lost everything, I would still have my faithful and sincere friends and a goal in life. I've also the luck to have an adoptive father who understands and share my aspirations. What should I ask for more to be happier?

A fiancé may be? – had launched Molly, her eye blazing with malice – Curiously, you haven't talked about it. Pretty as you look, Candy, I am ready to bet that you have no shortage of choice and that you make yourself desired…

Candy's face had suddenly darkened and she had looked down, embarrassed. Noticing her trouble, Mrs Brown had fidgeted in her seat, sighing, regretting her tactlessness.

Something terrible might have happened to her to react that way…

I feel sorry, Candy, I did not want to hurt you – she had mumbled, putting a comforting hand over hers – You are so young, so pretty, that I would have never imagined that you could already suffer love torments. He was a soldier, wasn't he? He died during the war?

Fortunately not!... But all those years without him were like if it had happened that way… - had sadly answered Candy.

Had? – had started Patty, opening widely her eyes, heart beating.

Oh Patty! – had exclaimed Candy, her voice trembling. She turned to her, her gaze full of tears – I wanted to tell you about it thought it might not mean anything but… I… I saw him… I saw him on the gate as the boat was leaving New York!

Oh my God! – had shouted Patty, holding with emotion her hands to her mouth – But what was he doing there?

I think… I hope it is because of my visit to his home few hours before…

Your visit to his home? – Patty had interrupted her, devoured with curiosity – Please, Candy, explain me! Tell me, tell us everything! You won't leave that room before telling us everything!

Indeed, Candy, and I will make sure of it – had added Mrs Brown, a devilish smile splitting her roundish face – Take your time, my child, but more than anything, do not forget any detail!...

Candy had obeyed, chuckling. First of all, she had roughly explained the reasons of the separation to Molly, then had launched herself into her tale. Feverish, she had described the place in which Terry lived, then her encounter with the housekeeper who had invited her to go to his house; the visit of his apartment then that room with the piano and especially le painting which had bowled her over until forcing her to leave. And finally, against all odds, Terry's arrival on the gate, the joy of the reencounter, the shed tears, the exchanged gazes, as the boat was moving away and getting them apart, once again…

Patty, whole trembling, had let tears of joy flow.

My Goodness, Candy! I feel so happy for you! When we arrive to Le Havre, you'll take the first boat back and you will go and meet him again as fast as possible!

This is the reason why I did not want to tell you about it, Patty. I don't want to leave you and to let you finish that journey alone. I'd really like to accompany you. We've gone together, we'll come back together!

But, come on, Candy! Aren't you eager to see him back after all those years?

I do agree with you, Candy – had spoken Mrs Brown, visibly very moved by the young blonde's story – There is no reason to change your plans. Don't make things too easy for this young man. He has to wait for you, to count eagerly each day until your reencounter. The result will even be better, because, believe me, that guy was not on that gate by casualty. He was there for you, darling! Everything indicates that he is still madly in love with you. Why then would he keep so preciously so many memories of you if it were the opposite? Stop doubting and rather focus on that wonderful day that will reunite you both very soon.

Candy had opined without saying any word, just smiling, looking dreamy. Her heart had begun to beat faster, her cheeks had gotten pinker. But Molly, as curious as a magpie, had quickly put an end to her daydreaming.

But tell me, Candy. What this young man's name?

Terry… Well… Terrence… - she had answered, blushing.

Terrence?... Well, well… This remind me of that young actor who plays so divinely at the theatre and whom I saw several times in Broadway!

Candy's cheeks had suddenly gotten redder and her eyes had begun to blaze with thousand stars. Molly Brown's mouth and eyes had immediately widened of stupefaction.

My God, Candy! Are we talking about the same person? – she had cried out, laughing nervously – I understand you so much now! Haaaa! If I were your age, as God is my witness, I would be crazy of him!

She had gone into one of those ringing laughs, making some people look at them with disapproval. Candy's cheeks had now turned to crimson while some condensation had settled on Patty's eyeglasses, bowled over by her friend's revelations.

I love beautiful love stories! Yours is so delicious that it deserves to be celebrated with top honors! Then, let's have some champagne! – had exclaimed the rich American lady as she waved to the waiter who arrived few minutes later, holding a champagne bucket with a beautiful goldened stopper bottle in it.

The night had ended among tears, giggles and bubbles. Patty and Candy, little used to drink alcohol, had quickly gotten tipsy and were forced to join back their cabin before losing all control. They were may be young and single, but they remained ladies, and Candy was not sure that the Andrey family would have appreciated to see their name written in big letters in the newspapers' scandal section. Regarding Mrs Brown, still in good shape, she had prolonged the night in front of a poker game together with fellow countrymen, wealthy manufacturers from Colorado.

All of this had just happened few hours before and Candy laughed innerly as she remembered that astonishing evening. Mrs Brown was really a very charming woman, who had not disowned her poor origins in spite of her social success. She liked shocking people, mulling over the establishment and she had made them laugh a lot with her acid comments on the high society. She was also a woman who knew to bend her elbow and Candy still wondered how she had been so easily dragged into it. It should be said, in her defense, that the champagne was a very good brand, some Cristal from Louis Roederer's, which had been elaborated in the beginning for the Tsar Alexander II of Russia. A real nectar, winy, fine and fruity, a glass of which having been enough to make her lose her head and Patty's. Candy understood then that the alcohol she had drunk would probably have had an action on her dreams. In a regular situation, the hiccups she had been emitting on and off should have disturbed her. That time, in the contrary, they were reassuring her. She knew that even the best of champagnes could perturb her sleep and cause nightmares. She was finding then an answer to her worries and this tranquilized her. She closed her eyes, cradled by the boat rolling. Laying down on the deck chair, well curled up under her blanket, she fell asleep little by little, without any dream that time, but definitively in peace.

Diving and shouting sounds from the lower-deck swimming pool withdrew her from her sleep. As she opened her eyes, it was already daytime. Yet, people were walking on the deck, children were playing, the crew and the officers were coming and going to their tasks. She stretched for a long time then stood up slowly. Her head still hurt and she needed a new aspirin. Arriving at her bedroom, she noticed that the door of Patty's was opened and that the maid was yet cleaning it. She came in and swallowed quickly her pill then looked for her friend, first of all in the restaurant in which breakfast service was almost ending, than in the reading room, and finally outside on the deck, but she did not find her. After long minutes of research, while she was longing for the tenth time the walkway, the French coasts getting bigger and bigger away gave her an idea about the place her friend should be. She ended by catching sight of her on the side of the boat bow, isolated, hidden behind a high and large smokestack. Leaning against the banister, she was staring at the horizon.

Ah, Patty! I was looking for you everywhere!

The young teacher turned around and smiled to her sadly.

I hope you've slept better than I did last night. This champagne did a lot of damage to my little brain. Ouch! – said Candy while massaging her temples.

Patty remained silent, keeping staring at the sea. Worried, Candy put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Patty… You know why you are here… If you want to stay alone, say it to me and I will go, whether not, I'd like to keep company with you in that painful moment.

I'm sorry, Candy – answered the young brunette with a sigh – I did not want to hide myself from you… I wanted just to be here, with him…

Then this is here where his plane crashed… This is above those streams that Alistair died in the line of duty, that his inert body was engulfed and rests…

Heavy-hearted, Candy swept with a fresh look the marine landscape that was before her. She moved her hand to Patty's leaning on the banister and pressed it with emotion.

I know that words are not really a good support in those circumstances, Patty, but I wanted you to know that I share your pain. I miss Alistair so much too!...

Against all odds, Patty turned to her a serene face.

Don't worry, Candy, I've been waiting for this time for so long! Can you imagine what it is to be unable to gather on your loved one's grave? I've never wanted to return to the one that was supposed to be his in Lakewood. What should I do there while I know his body isn't? Even if I want to believe that his soul accompanies me, even if sometimes I feel him so close that I could almost touch him, I would have loved so much to see where he rests. And now, I know it… I don't know why I had always imagined that place dark, plunged into darkness, like a never-ending chasm, and I'm discovering it today sparkling under the sun and shaded with colors continuously moving. Like what he was in life, a solar being who illuminated our existences by his quick mind and his kindness. All along those years, I never found the courage to come until here, but that time, with you near me, I felt that I was able to do it. The only thing I have to do is watching you, Candy, and I can hope that we can recover from everything, that we can come out of an ordeal with an increased stature. You are the living proof that we can be wounded by life without ceasing loving it. I wanted then to tell you that the reason of my presence here is to get closer to Alistair but also… to grieve for him…

Patty… - whispered Candy, her eyes clouded with tears.

Don't cry Candy… Be happy for me… - replied Patty, her throat thick with emotion – The Lord knows how much I love Alistair! I will love him until my last day on that earth! But, as we were getting closer to those coasts, to those cliffs that saw him falling down, my heart instead of getting touched felt lightened. I felt reassured, and the anguish, the sorrow that were possessing me in the beginning, had little by little vanished. I had the feeling that Alistair wanted me to understand that I did not have to worry about him anymore, that everything for him would be all right, like for me. It's like if the black veil that faded my life had torn, and that I was discovering again the subtle shades of the existence. I feel like coming out from a long sleep, seeing and hearing again, like a rebirth.

Oh Patty!- cried out Candy, hugging her – You have no idea the joy you're giving to me when saying that! I've prayed so often for hearing one day those words from your mouth!

Hugging stronger her friend, she sobbed of both tears of joy and sadness. Tears of joy because she had never hoped to see Patty rediscovering life, and of sadness also, because Alistair's loss had left a boundless emptiness inside her, an emptiness difficult to fulfill. Alistair… Her companion in bad days, who had always the invention or the right word to make her smile. She had preciously kept the music-box he had given to her at the railway station before she leaves to join back Terry in New York. That pretty music, which, as soon as she heard it, was able to comfort her like he knew how to do it when he was there, close to her. Oddly, she was having the feeling to distinctly hear that melody across the light breeze that caressed her face. She stretched up. In the same time, a gull flew over them, almost brushing them, and let slip out something that twirled around down Patty's feet. She bent down and picked it up. It was a five petals white flower with in its center a curious pistil. A touched smile appeared on her lips.

This an orchid flower… - she mumbled, showing it to Candy with a trembling hand – This is my favorite flower… Alistair used to offer one to me because he knew I loved them.

Orchids do not grow up in full sea, darling… - observed Candy, thrilling before the supernatural phenomenon that was happening under her eyes.

Indeed.. Yes… - murmured Patty, turning around to the coast as she held the flower to her heart.

Candy went closer to her and laid an affectionate arm around her shoulders. Staring at the horizon, her head leaning against hers, she said with a relax voice:

You can have your heart in peace now, Patty. You've just received the most beautiful of love messages, don't you think?

A burning tear rolled along the young brunette's cheek who nodded with a trembling chin.

Y… Yes… Nowadays, I know he is happy where he is… It means a lot to me…

You can think about you now, my friend. I'm sure this is what Alistair wants. I don't know by what miracle he was able to get in touch with you. You are blessed by the gods, Patty!

I wonder… I wonder why there were no sign of him before?

May be weren't you ready? May be that was not his first try but you did not hear him. When you sink into sorrow, you become deaf and blind, you lose all your marks, everything that links you to reality. And when you find it back, when you return to the light, you are blinded by all this flow of feelings, sensations that you had forgotten. But what a joy it is to be able to know that you were not abandoned!...

Candy then told her about what happened in Scotland with Terry, when that latter had obliged her to ride while she was terrified of horses since Anthony's accident. During long minutes, she had screamed her terror, screamed Anthony's name, but, little by little, she had begun to listen to the turned-tender voice of Terry, to feel his heart beatings against her body, to feel the life that flew in him. He smelled the freshly cutgrass, his chest was burning. His words sounded to her ears as if it were yesterday.

Open your eyes, Candy! Open them wide! Don't look behind you, look ahead!

And when she had opened them again and observed life around her, he had concluded:

Anthony is dead, but us, we are here Candy. Life is stronger and memories must leave room to reality. And reality is you and me…

When hearing those words, hope had rebirthed inside her, a hope she had thought lost forever. But what was more marvelous in that story, was that as she looked better at the trees around her, she perceived, melted among the lights through the leaves, the tender face of Anthony. A smiling and serene face that wanted to tell her that nowadays, everything would be allright. When opening herself back to life, she had been able to hear and see what she had been unable to before, walled in her despair. Patty was now experimenting the same thing and she was delighted to have been there for that moment. She would be then able to reassure her in case of doubt and to certify her that everything which had happened was real.

That latter said then something to her that disconcerted her.

I think that you too, are ready, now… - she did as she gave her an envelop hidden inside the pocket of her jacket.

W… What's that? – muttered Candy, almost fainting, as she recognized immediately Terry's refined writing.

He gave it to me few weeks ago. Forgive me if I did not give it to you earlier… He wanted me to get sure you were really ready for this. He did not want you to feel obliged towards him. You looked so indifferent that I did not want to influence you in anything. But what you told me last night reassured me and confirmed my decision.

A letter from Terry… - said aloud Candy as if she wanted to be sure of not dreaming. Tears were clouding her view and she gripped the letter stronger between her fingers for fear of having it fall down – From the bottom of my heart, I've so much hoped he would write to me one day. I never had the courage to send mine to him. Oh Patty, I feel as if I were dreaming!...

You are not, Candy! I'm so happy to be his messenger! Looking at your face lighting up, hearing you pronouncing his name without a shaking voice, is the best of rewards. Hurry up, Candy! Hurry up to go and read that letter! What are you still doing standing here, come on?

Candy quickly put a grateful kiss on her friend's cheek and ranaway to her cabin. Her heart was beating like the clappers as if it were going to burst out! She was running in the halls without recognizing them, her mind empty of any thoughts. Arriving in front her bedroom's door, her hand was shaking so much that it took her ages to insert the key in the lock. At last, she came in and opened widely the window. The fresh air entered the room and helped her to come back from her torpor. She opened her secretary's drawer and took from it an ivory paper-knife and tore the envelope fold with its blade. A pale yellow sheet was inside, one page only which color reminded of Saint-Paul Park's daffodils, that square piece of flowers upon which she had fallen down by stumbling on Terry who was laying there.

"Well, even if you like me so much, I am startled by such an abrupt seduction." – he had said, mocking, as he wrapped her waist with his arms.

Blushing, she had violently brushed his arms away.

"I just stumbled on you! You lie down everywhere like a stone."

"No stones enjoy a daffodils' fragrance."

Candy sighed with melancholia as she thought about that delicious memory.

Terry among flowers… What a comical sight!

Once again, she looked at the letter. Feverishly, she took the sheet from the envelope. Her heart began to furiously beat again, dealing painfully her chest a blow. An uncontrollable fear retained her from reading the letter's contents, as if doing it, she would disrupt the enchantment. She had missed him so much!... Now, one only gesture from her and that absence would vanish. This sounded so unreal to her! Finally, reuniting all of her courage, she took the letter between her hands and what she read from it moved her deep inside her.

"Candy,

Have you changed?
One year had passed since then.
I had made up my mind to contact you after one year passed, but while hesitating, more than half a year had passed. I dare to post this.

I haven't changed at all.

I just wanted to tell you that, although I don't know whether this letter will reach you.

T.G"

Candy remained for a while petrified, unable to think correctly. While reading those lines, she felt as if he were standing next to her. She could hear his deep and profound voice murmuring those words to her. He sounded so close that she could feel a light fragrance of daffodils around her. She looked up and noticed that someone had left a bunch of those flowers on the night table. Though the blooming season was already ended, she welcomed this as an encouraging sign, an expression of the reality of their love. She went close to the vase and fulfilled her lungs with that penetrating spring smell. She sighed with delight.

Oh Terry!... I have not changed either… Your letter is very short but I don't need long sentences to understand what you meant. Terry, my love… You were hesitating, as I was too. Why are we so afraid from each other? Do you fear as much as I do to see that hope destroyed, like it already happened once? Oh Terry, I would like so much to be with you and break that fatality which kept us away from each other for so long. I would like so much, Terry!...

She toppled backward and let herself fall on the bed, arms outstretched. Dizzy, drunk with new emotions, she closed her eyes and let her laugh, shill in the beginning, then wholeheartedly. She marvelled at the sounds that were coming out from her throat, full of happiness, of a lightness she had not heard neither felt since an eternity. She was in love and she had never felt so much joy to be in such a state…

The following day, in the early hours, a train was leaving Le Havre railway station, with two young adventurous American ladies aboard. In a few hours, after a journey over 200 kilometers, they would arrive in Paris to take the Orient-Express that should transport them to Venice. Comfortably sitting in their private compartment, they were looking at the scenery passing by through the window. The Norman coasts have moved aside for blond lands, gentle valleys, beach and pine trees forests. The train ride followed the Seine and crossed several times the river, which meant the building of viaducts, the longest reaching 520 meters. The two friends enjoyed every time they passed over one of those outstanding structures, which they had a dominant view from over the large river that flew tens of meters below.

Rocked by the train roll, her head resting against the window, Candy was drowsing. Since her departure from New York, she could not sleep well, too much exited she was by that renewed hope to see Terry again, hope increased tenfold after reading his letter. At the time, she had thought about packing her bags and return to the island of Manhattan. But she had quickly changed her mind. How could she go to Terry's and ring at his door, under the little pretext of a short reencounter on the dock of a port and few lines on a sheet of paper? Of course, in the bottom of her heart, that was more than enough for her to run and join him back, but she had not forgotten that it wasn't a lady's behavior. Because with the years, this is what she had become: a wonderful young woman, with perfect posture and speech, and who, far from denying her roots, had made the best of it to integrate it to the position's requirements of heir to the Andrey family. She was Albert's sole daughter and she had been able to prove herself worthy of it, by watching, learning and applying rigorously those behavior rules she had been taught. Ignoring the forked tongues, she had rapidly adapted herself to her new duties whilst providing a grace she had never suspected, a natural grace which only required to be revealed.

However, Terry had laughed at her in Scotland when telling him about her ambition of becoming a lady to honor her great-uncle William.

- You, a lady? That wouldn't suit you at all! – He had retorted to her in the most natural way in the world.

He had not realized how much his words had been hurtful. Him, like everybody around her, had received an excellent instruction, a perfect knowledge of good manners and she had suffered regularly from those gaps that had often been source of misunderstandings. In spite of this, she had charmed Terry, but she wanted him to know from her that quality she had developed, improved with time. She wanted him to be proud of being at her side, rather than being permanently recalled her modest roots. She wondered though if he would be able to appreciate that change in her. She was not anymore that pupil of Saint-Paul who used to slip out after sundown and climb to the trees like a monkey. Almost ten years had elapsed since that period of time. She had gotten since then a certain maturity that she performed through her nursing job, but she was also an important member of a Chicago high-society family, respected and honored. Will he be able to recognize the true Candy in all of this?

Terry might have changed too. He pretended otherwise in his letter but the tragedy that they had both experimented had certainly left some evidences. Would she like what she could find about him? All of this needed a long thinking. This is why she liked that journey with Patty. That latter had though insisted that she leaves immediately, but Candy had maintained her determination. She wanted to take benefit of those few weeks, far from everything that could remind her of Terry. She wanted to think about her situation. She ardently wanted to see him again, but not in those conditions. Molly Brown had made it understand to her that rush could lead to disappointments and she knew she was right. Patience was going to be her best adviser until her come-back to America, but she admitted innerly that she would need a big dose of it as the only evocation of Terry could make her vulnerable to any temptations.

She affectionately looked at Patty, calmly leaning over her embroidery work, a bib for Annie's future baby. She thought that it was not a bad idea to keep one's hands busy and that it would free her tormented mind. She searched in her things and took a draft of knit out of it that she had begun too in anticipation for the future birth. She held to the daylight what was supposed to be a vest and felt discouraged by its result: in the absence of symmetry, it would be very ventilated for the hot summer days, regarding the wideness of some meshes that let easily pass one or two fingers through. She brought the knit closer to her face and began to play at looking through one of the holes. As she was doing it, she crossed Patty's gaze who had just looked up. That latter's eyes widened with surprise and she burst out of laugh. Candy began to laugh in turn, swept by the shakings of her friend's shoulders. They were laughing so loudly that they could be heard in the whole wagon, so well they did not notice the locomotive's whistles that announced their next arrival to Paris Saint-Lazare sation…

As Terry opened his eyes, his body hurt so badly that he thought that a ten floors building had collapsed on him. He was lying down on a bed and an unpleasant smell of pharmacy was floating in the room. His view was troubled, and he could only discern vague shapes that were coming out in the daylight. A figure came close to him, dressed with a white blouse and a same colored headgear that covered her neck.

- Candy… - he murmured with an almost inaudible voice.

The figure started and coming closer, cried out as she straightened:

- He's waking up! He's waking up! Quick! Go and tell to Mister!

The young man heard then footsteps rushing in the corridor, then, back in return, few minutes later, barging into the room, a familiar voice that made him thrill in spite his stiffness.

- How is he?
- He's just awakened, sir…

Terry turned his head to the voice, and in spite the fog that slowed down his thoughts, he was able little by little to distinguish its sketches: a dark suit, a proud bearing, some greyish hair that contrasted with the thin still black moustache that covered his great seducer upper lip, were giving him a highly aristocratic and distant allure, recognizable among all.

- Father… - moaned Terry with a breath.
- Terrence… My son… - replied the Duke of Grandchester.

Lack of sleep had creased his face's traits and veined with red his severe gaze. He put an affectionate hand on Terry's arm who shuddered with surprise.

- Welcome Terrence, welcome to the world of living…

End of chapter 4
Thank you very much for still reading me !