Vestavia Hills

Evelyn Archer had gone even further. More than once, she invited the reverend's wife to the shop at a specific time, the same time when Martyn would also come by; as she was organizing their meetings intentionally.

Until one day, despite every sense of decency, Mrs. Archer had dared to propose to Elizabeth Abblepot to go to a house she owned, on the outskirts of Vestavia Hills, and had promptly handed over the keys.

Elizabeth had equally promptly indulged her.

Straight after, she felt those keys almost like burning her fingers, keys that she should have indignantly rejected. Instead, like a little girl who had just received an unexpected gift, she played with them in her hands, and couldn't wait to get to that house, where she knew, very well, who she would find.

The young woman shook herself off from these memories and decided to go to Mrs. Archer. She was avoiding the shop for weeks, and when she saw her from afar, she did not bother to look at her.

On the way to the shop, Elizabeth felt her legs tingling as if loads of insects were clinging on them. When she opened the shop door, Evelyn Archer was as usual in her spot, near the counter, busy with the pointless activity of moving and repositioning trinkets of all kinds, from one position to another. She seemed surprised to see Elizabeth come in, but her amazement had something unclear, not at all embarrassed.

"What can I do for you, dear?" Archer said, trying to be distant but failing.

"Mrs. Evelyn, I'm not sure why I came here."

"Maybe for the usual reason. To see Martyn, or to find out where he is." The older woman seemed annoyed.

"Maybe ..." and Elizabeth wanted to carry on, but she didn't let her.

"If your husband saw you here! If he saw you now, I mean, after what happened! It is careless. On the other hand, those who are overwhelmed by passion pay no attention to these things" now her tone was almost mocking.

"Anyway, "she went on, "I should see Martyn by the afternoon, I will tell him that you are looking for him ... but if you came to ask me not to tell anyone about your affair, maybe it's a little late now, isn't it? I could have done before, you should have come earlier. But it would be best for our family as well if this didn't come out, don't you think?"

If my nephew's name will be linked to the shop when I'm gone, it's far better if no one finds out."

Elizabeth did not know why she sensed that anger in Mrs. Archer's voice and behaviour, but she didn't question her about it.

She said: "What has happened is terrible. It's my fault. Our fault. Your nephew's and mine. When John found out, I asked Martyn to come round mine so I could tell him that the situation was getting too much for me and that I wasn't sure I wanted to carry on."

Mrs. Archer went back to take care of her odds and ends, then Elizabeth cut it short: "Anyway, I don't need to talk to you about what I said or want to say to Martyn."

Elizabeth Abblepot was like to an overgrown child who believes that by trying her favourite habit one last time, she will get rid of it once and for all, and it does not understand, however, that the more one seeks a vice the more it will take over. Her naivety would have been sweet if she had been a child.

Martyn Trischer went to her aunt's shop shortly after two o'clock in the afternoon.

He did not know that he was being observed by Reverend Abblepot, who looked at him, daydreaming, from across the street. He entered the shop almost as if he was a thief, very slowly and with the desire to leave as soon as possible. He felt almost a sense of guilt towards the old aunt and an embarrassment that months ago, he would never even have dreamed of.

Evelyn was in her usual spot and looked at the boy with a disapproving look.

When Martyn had gone to see her, still out of breath and in full distress, to report that the reverend had discovered everything, she was speechless at first. Then, irritated by the boy's ineptitude, she insulted him and blamed him for everything. As if she had no part in what had happened!

They had argued intensely, of course.

Evelyn Archer said coldly: "This affair must end. I've already cursed myself for indulging you as you do with a spoiled child. But I can't take it anymore. You will go to her and tell her to end this."

Martyn replied: "It's none of your business if Elizabeth and I are still looking for each other. It means that we love each other, no matter what."

For what her age allowed, Evelyn let out a loud laugh, an evil laugh, though.

Then she said, "Still this nonsense! Martyn, listen to me: it is already a blessing that the reverend has not repudiated his wife and has not involved you and me. If you want this shop and you want a quiet life, I advise you to put aside your idiocies, forget that girl, and hope that sooner or later, she and her husband will move somewhere else."

Martyn was seething with anger. It now seemed to him that it was a matter of pride. If he truly loved Elizabeth, and if she was willing to sacrifice everything for him, these were secondary thoughts.

He told his aunt, raising his voice: "It will just mean that Elizabeth and I will get out of the way! So we will no longer bother you or this damned town!"

Evelyn did not give up: "Stop it! I told you that you would continue to work here and around the town, you will give up that no-good girl, and you will think more about what is worthwhile in life, instead of dreaming about pointless things."

However, there was an accent of anguish in her words.

In a fit of anger he felt growing inside and that he couldn't imagine unleashing, Martyn Trischer threw on the ground the first objects he found on the counter and faced the old woman bluntly: "I'm tired of being told what to do!" he snarled at her "the fact that you have sinned yourself, of your own will, does not give you the right to give me orders!"

Mrs. Archer was a little frightened: "Martyn ..." she tried to say.

But the young man pressed her with an evil look: "Enough! Don't say anything. Shut up as you've always done until now. And tell me where I can find her."

Martyn Trischer met Elizabeth near the post office.

The two were somewhat embarrassed at first, soon enough, though, they discovered that there was still intimacy between them.

Their eyes were full of worry, but they still enjoyed the pleasure of being in front of each other. After they had made love at her house last time, their life seemed to have taken the same turn as before: but, perhaps for somewhat different reasons, both were aware that this was not true at all.

In the torment of seeing each other again without being able to pretend that the next time would be without consequences, they did not know what decision to make, or rather, what decision to propose to each other.

Perhaps they both knew that the only possible option was never to see each other again.

Meanwhile, in the shade of a porch on that sunny afternoon, a man was hearing a jumble of incomprehensible words whispering in his head.

He felt a sense of dizziness as if he was about to lose consciousness.

He could hear the gnashing of teeth and grating of nails.

Before his eyes, the outlines faded into indistinct lines.

And the feeling of someone leaning heavily on his shoulders increased the fatigue of his conscience.

He was leaning against a pillar; it was only a few meters away. The eyes fixed on the scene of the two youngs speaking while looking at each other.

The man who was hurting his hands, clenching them into fists until his nails imprinted in the flesh, was the Reverend Johnathan Abblepot.

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