Arthur wasn’t sure what she meant. “I’m sorry to hear that. It’s a wonderful way to remember him, for his work to be on display.”
“I hate that painting. It’s far too whimsical for my taste. If I had my way, and if my brother wasn’t the artist, it would be removed. Or even burned.”
“Oh, I thought it was rather lovely.”
“Don’t humor me. I really do not have time for this conversation, Mr. Pepper.”
Arthur stood his ground. “I’m just trying to find out about my wife. I feel that there are things I don’t know, stories I’ve never heard...”
“It might be best if you don’t know them. We can end this call. Feel free to throw away the paint palette charm. It is a part of history I’d rather forget.”
Arthur’s mind reeled. His hand holding the phone trembled. It was so tempting to do as she bade him. It was something he’d thought of, too, to get rid of the bracelet and try to return to normal. But he had come so far. “Were you and my wife very good friends once?” he asked gently.
Sonny hesitated. “Yes. Yes, we were. A long time ago.”
“And Martin, too, if he painted her...?”
“It was a long time ago...”
“I need to know what happened.”
“No, you don’t. Leave this be...”
“I can’t, Ms. Yardley. I thought Miriam and I knew everything about each other, but now I feel I don’t know anything. There’s a big hole and I have to find out how to fill it, even if I hear things I don’t like.”
“I don’t think you will like it.”
“But I have to know.”
“Very well, Mr. Pepper. You asked for the truth. Well, here it is. Your wife was a murderess. How do you like that?”
Arthur felt as if he was falling down a giant hole. His stomach plunged. His limbs felt as if they were flailing. “Forgive me. I don’t understand,” he gasped.
“She killed my brother, Martin.”
“That can’t be.”
“It is.”
“Tell me what happened.”
Sonny swallowed. “We’d been friends for a long time, Miriam and I. We played together and did our homework together. When she was having trouble at home, it was me she confided in. I’m the one who listened and offered advice. I encouraged her to follow the Mehra family to India. I bought her the bracelet as a good luck present before she left. I was there to support her when she stayed in Paris. This Sylvie Bourdin’s name is vaguely familiar to me. Miriam and I wrote to each other all the time throughout her travels. We were as close as two friends could be.
“But then, after she’d traveled to Paris and India and London, when she was tired of moving around, she came home. But instead of turning her attention to me, picking up on our friendship, she set her sights on Martin. She batted her eyelashes at him. They started to go out without me. Within a couple of months they were engaged to be married. Did you know that?”
“No,” Arthur whispered.
“Martin wanted to buy her a diamond ring, to do things properly. So he began to save every penny that he could. In the meantime he bought her a charm in the shape of a ring to go on her bracelet.”
“I have it here.” When he spoke, the words did not sound like his own. “And you made the paint palette charm?”
“Yes. It was a birthday present.”
“And you say that Miriam and Martin were engaged?” He thought that he had been her first love.
“For a short while. Until he died. The car he was driving plowed headfirst into a tree.”
“I am so sorry. But you said my wife was a murd—”
“They were in my father’s car. Martin hadn’t passed his driving test yet but he wanted to impress Miriam so much that he took the keys without asking when my parents were out for the evening. Miriam goaded him on. I heard her saying that she wanted another adventure. Miriam, with her black-lined eyes and her shiny beehive, her fancy clothes and pearls. A young lad like him didn’t stand a chance when she turned her attention on him. He painted but he really wanted to be a writer, you see, a journalist. When he found out that she had a friendship with that French author De Chauffant, he was smitten. He wanted to impress her.
“It was a sunny evening. I remember hearing the birds singing as they headed out, arm in arm. I told Martin that he mustn’t take the car, but they both laughed at me. Miriam told me not to fuss, but I’m sure I saw Martin hesitate, just for a second. Still, she tugged him out of the door and I watched as they drove away.
“An eyewitness said that Martin took a bend too tightly. He lost control and crashed into a tree. They were both taken to the hospital. Miriam escaped with a minor cut to her forehead. My brother was in a coma for three weeks. He didn’t stand a chance. All because he wanted to show off to Miriam, to prove he was good enough for her. If she hadn’t turned her attention to him he would be here now. He’d be married to someone else. He might have had children. My parents might have had grandchildren. I couldn’t give them that but he might have been able to.”
“But your brother was driving... You said that Miriam...”
“She as good as killed him.”
He thought of a tiny scar his wife had on her temple. She had said it was from a childhood fall.
“So, she never told you about Martin? She never even spoke his name?” Sonny asked.
“No. I didn’t know about an engagement before ours.”
“Well, so now you know that your wife was a liar.”
“She didn’t lie. She just didn’t tell me. Miriam closed off her past. She didn’t speak about her life before we met. I thought it was because it had been uneventful, that there was nothing to tell me about. But it sounds as if it’s the opposite. Would she be married to Martin now if this dreadful thing hadn’t happened? Was she with me but thinking about him? Even though, I still love her so much. Sometimes I feel I can’t live without her.”
Sonny cleared her throat. “I’d say sorry for the way I speak about her, but I’m not. She ruined my life and the life of my family.”
“Then I will say I’m sorry. For what happened—if that’s worth anything.”
“She visited Martin every day, sat by his bedside. I couldn’t bear the sight of her then. She made my flesh crawl. We’d always both treated him as my annoying brother and then suddenly she’s attracted to him, telling me that he might be the man she’s looking for. She wanted to settle down. I wanted him to meet someone else, someone who wasn’t so flighty. It’s like she threw me over for him.”
Arthur felt his body beginning to quake. Whatever stories he had uncovered about his wife, he was not going to listen to her ex-friend bad-mouth her. “Whatever you think of Miriam, Ms. Yardley, she was the gentlest, kindest woman I ever met. We were married for over forty years. I am very sorry for what happened to your brother, but you are talking about years and years ago. The woman you describe sounds nothing like my wife. People change. It sounds as if you were jealous of your own brother’s happiness.”
“Well, yes, I was. I admit it.” Sonny’s words quickened. “I was her friend, not Martin. We shared everything. Then she came home and took him. She threw me over. She wanted to see Martin more than me...”
Arthur let her words hang. He used silence in the same way that Sonny had.
“Are you still there, Mr. Pepper?”
“Yes, I’m still here.”
“She killed him. I don’t care who was driving that bloody car. As far as I’m concerned Miriam killed him. She deprived my family of their son and me of my brother. She came to the funeral and I never saw her again after that. I didn’t want to see her and I made sure she knew that. I heard that she had got married to someone else. She wrote to tell me, another of her bloody letters. She moved on, but the Yardleys never could. I hope that answers all your questions, Mr. Pepper. Now you know the truth.”
Arthur moved the receiver away from his ear. He couldn’t bear to hear any more of Sonny’s words. “I loved her, no matter what,” he said. “I really loved her.”
He put the phone down and sobbed.
Crappy Birthday