"I know I was a little snotty about it initially, but how about we try the Royal Pavilion today?"
Melanie had been reluctant to add the opulent Regency era landmark to their visit, but today it would be the perfect distraction. She offered her best toothy-emoji style grin to Caroline as she prepared for whatever variety of 'I told you so' would follow.
"Mmmmmm. You're admitting boredom has driven you to abandon your lofty cultural standards?" Caroline sipped her tea, sleeves of her grey thermal pajamas up over her thumbs, and peered at Melanie over the rim of the mug.
"Well not so much. Just - it wasn't on the top of my list. I mean, Caroline, the imitation pales to the real thing - that's all I'm saying."
"Well we didn't all grow up in tropical Indian cultural jewels like Kochi, Melanie. I can't account for the past sins of the British empire, nor can I improve our historical remnants." Caroline's eyebrows arched and she waved her hand, mock frustration dripping from her fingertips.
"That is absolutely true, and I would never expect that of you. But - I suppose I might be willing to give the Pavilion a shot. I'm having a little cabin fever."
"Tired of my company already?" Caroline delivered with a straight face, but Melanie could read the spark in her eye and the set of her mouth - the upward twitch of the left corner - well enough by now to recognize her being difficult for the sake of it. They'd both been a little on edge since the visit from the police.
Neither of them had brought it up in the moment, but yesterday the darkness of the implications and the curiosity of the mix-up involving Caroline had pattered on between them, as quiet but as present as the fall of the rain outside. A question here, a speculation there, and now Melanie wasn't comfortable with any of it. It was past time for them to get out of the flat and out of their heads.
Even if it meant enduring Caroline's condescension, currently in full flush. It never lasted long, and it pleased Melanie to no end to see Caroline so pleased with herself. Not that it was an unusual condition for her – Caroline seemed in a perpetual state of mild disappointment with the majority of the people around her. It took a beat to digest, but within a month of knowing her Melanie had discovered the generosity of spirit Caroline tried so unsuccessfully to hide.
Seeing her pleased with herself – it wasn't quite as musical to Melanie's ears as the rare sound of Caroline actually giggling at something, but it was nice.
"I'm not tired of your company – I'm inviting you along!"
"How kind of you." Now both corners of Caroline's mouth twitched upward, and Melanie played her part to the end.
"I think your attitude actually might be illustrating my point about being cooped up here! Come on – please?"
"Oh of course, Mel." Caroline chuffed and swatted her hand, as though she hadn't been having Melanie on about it since she brought it up. "If it makes you happy."
"Going on an adventure with you makes me happy."
Caroline spared a wary glance outside. "If the rain keeps up, it won't so much be going on an adventure as setting sail."
"Regardless." Melanie gave a huge smile and squeezed Caroline's hand and they sat and studied each other.
Dwelling on whatever the situation was now with this Brian - it had started to make Melanie uncomfortable. The police coming around made it real – took it out of the speculative and into the uncomfortably tangible. As it escalated, she realized how one question might lead to another. Lead to too many questions she wasn't ready to answer if Caroline caught a hair and began obsessing over the whole thing. Which, with Caroline, bound to happen if anything crossed her path once too often. And all of it leading to another battle royale over making some sort of commitment…. She'd never lied to Caroline and she'd rather keep it that way. She'd tell what she needed to in her own time, and so far, Caroline's self-absorption made that more comfortable timetable infinitely possible.
Melanie pushed up at the bottom corner of her glasses and favored Caroline with a grin so full of innocent anticipation it might as well have been pasted on Flora, breaking their contented reverie.
"So it opens at ten. Meaning we have just enough time to grab a second breakfast before we get there - if we scoot. It should be quiet, it's not their high time and there aren't any special exhibitions. But you know, if we get there early I bet we'll have the run of the place."
Caroline's lips pressed out in a stifled laugh and her eyes grew wide and impressed. It was another look on her Melanie adored - Caroline utterly surprised by being impressed by anyone else in the room.
"What's so funny?"
"I thought that you, Miss Melanie, and I quote, 'didn't have the time of day for that place.'"
Mel rolled her eyes and smiled at her own idiosyncrasies. "Oh Caroline you know me. I can't help myself. I have to know everything about everything, even if I don't think I'm interested."
Caroline came around to place a kiss on the top of Melanie's head. "You do. Love that."
"Alright then. Like Mary Poppins says, spit spot – let's go!" Melanie handed their tea mugs to Caroline and dashed off to the bedroom. She spared a mischievous glance back to see Caroline's shoulders shaking, her eyes closed and her head nodding back and forth in utter amusement. Mission accomplished.
The long walk away from the sea and into the city had started as a trudge - both of them still heavy hearted for the shadow that had fallen over them, the grim curiosity about the fate that Brian Shadforth had likely been unwilling in meeting. The rain wouldn't stop falling and they were each trapped in their own world under the turned-up hoods of their rain jackets, little chance for any real conversation.
But as they'd approached the Pavilion the rain had tapered. And when Caroline had finally begged off after two-hours inside staring at ornate draperies, upholstery, and finish-work that shamed Buckingham Palace, she'd been delighted to see the sun make an appearance. She grabbed an earl grey from the museum café and finally sat down to enjoy a moment of peace and quiet.
She leaned back against the dark-green metal work of the only free bench in the Pavilion gardens and closed her eyes. The sun shone on her, weakly warm but full and strong and turning the insides of her lids pink. The world smelled of wet grass and damp sod, touched with salinity - filled with the sounds of birds who jumped and flapped from limb to limb heralding the fortunate turn of the weather. A smile crept across her lips as she reclined.
She and Melanie had been on their feet since leaving the flat. 'Second breakfast' had really only been a stop to grab pierogis at a take-away window well out of their way to the Royal Pavilion. Caroline couldn't figure how in the world Melanie had ever, ever tracked the place down, but that was Melanie. She wanted what she wanted, and she figured a way to get it no matter what.
Her break was a short one. A portly man in a burgundy sweater one size too small for him grunted as he plopped down beside her. His brown tweed coat was one size too large, but did little to cover the show his blue oxford button-down made under his sweater and over his generous stomach. He wore grey corduroys, the only thing that fit appropriately. But they were stained in at least three places. Likely more, but she wasn't interested in gathering an exact count.
Taken in whole, Caroline was repulsed.
He turned to her, his eyes blood-shot and his nose purple. He dipped his head. "Nice day."
A foul brew of stale gin and chips fried in day-old grease washed over her as he spoke.
She turned her head, winced and exhaled. "Yep."
Now settled in next to her, he took up the relaxed pose she'd so recently struck. Head tilted to the sun, eyes closed, and hands clasped over his girth in peaceful reflection.
Internally Caroline's well-heeled manners and acidic nature slugged it out as she considered how long she wanted to wait before getting up.
The man belched, covered his mouth and mumbled "pardon."
She followed her nature. "Well I'm off." It wasn't so much a polite way to part, as her way of letting him know how offensive he and his sloppy self had turned the moment.
Eyes still closed and apparently blissful, he waved her away.
Her boots took her through the wet grass and back to the crunching goldenrod gravel path. She tossed the remainder of her tea into a nearby rubbish bin and started back to the museum to find Melanie. It was a glorious day, for the moment, and she wanted to hold hands and stroll down the boardwalk next to the sea. The wet was supposed to roll back in later, and she wanted to seize the sunny moment.
Across the gardens a small man with thinning, sandy colored hair combed over his balding head was standing in the shade next to one of the great front columns, watching the world come and go through the main entrance. He had his own innocuous white cup of something, and a newspaper tucked under his arm. For all purposes looking as though he was simply waiting for his lollygagging wife to emerge and whisk him away to their next uninteresting stop. It was Dave, her new bad penny.
Unease filled her again and she frowned at it; quickened her pace and felt a new urgency in locating Melanie.
Melanie paused to dwell in the familiar bazaar of patterns and colors that blanketed the music room at the Royal Pavilion. Growing up in Kochi, in India, she'd developed an organic craving for the richness of visual texture so abundant in her homeland and so often missing in England.
She loved England, her adopted homeland. She loved Harrogate - the quiet, the peace, the comfortable entitlement of the people and a country so long used to occupying the luxuries of the first world. She loved rain that wasn't hot and didn't incubate bugs as large as they were colorful.
She hadn't chosen Harrogate, but she was grateful every day for her life there. Even more so now that it included Caroline Dawson, who was taking advantage of a welcome break in the rain to bask in the sun outside in the pristine gardens. Another thing to love – English gardens. So unruly and carefully un-curated by their standards, and so disciplined and cultivated by hers.
Melanie could spend hours in museums. She couldn't stand to rush. Caroline couldn't linger. She read what she came to read, saw what she came to see, and that was that. It was another thing she'd come to love about her, and today a thing she'd counted on.
She and Caroline had arrived early, and it had been quiet. It was midday now, and there was a regular flow of visitors coming and going. Enough to blend in, but few enough that you could easily see who surrounded you.
A blonde woman, Caroline's height and build and fitting Caroline's description in so many ways, came in through a door opposite Melanie and approached her. She definitely resembled Caroline from a distance, you could easily mistake them. But she'd only have a passing resemblance close up – and only if Caroline's eyes were prematurely lined with age and her face hollowed and hardened by a type of life she'd never want to live.
"I'm sorry, Melanie."
"It's alright, Leann. These things happen. We all need help sometimes."