Half an hour later, she went out to the shed in search of a pair of secateurs. She found some right away, in excellent condition. Charity Brown must have been a conscientious gardener, she mused; the blades were oiled and sharp.
It was with a spring in her step that she approached the first rose bed, and it was with a smile on her lips that she tentatively snipped off the first dead branch.
She made good headway, and soon gained confidence in herself, and after lunch she went back out to prune the last of the rose bushes, situated in a plot running under the wall separating Sweet Briar from the house next door.
During the morning she’d heard sounds from the other side of the wall—Sally’s low voice, accompanied by the lighter voices of children. It hadn’t taken Laura long to deduce that there were two of them—little boys, Matthew and Michael—who sounded as if they were quite small.
They must have been put down for a nap after lunch, because in the afternoon she heard no signs of life from next door...not till around two o’clock. As she was pruning the second to last rose bush voices came floating over the wall again—this time those of Sally and her brother.
At first the two chatted desultorily about someone called James, who seemed to be Sally’s husband and who had gone to the Kootenays on business. Laura tried to ignore the voices, even wondered if she should cough to let the two know that she was there, but in the end decided that if she were to do that every time they were in their garden and she was in hers it would be ridiculous. Instead she speeded up her pruning, and had almost finished when she heard Sally speak in response to a muffled comment by Nick.
“Yes, it’s strange, isn’t it, how things turned out? Before I married James, Melody and I spent so much time together... and now you see more of her than I do! And she’s good for you, Nick—you complement each other. She calms you down when you get stressed through overwork... as you so often do...”
Laura tried to block her ears to their conversation, and managed for a while, but as she began pruning the last straggly branches Nick’s voice, loud and clear, came floating to her reluctant ears.
“...unrealistic expectations about marriage. Let’s face it, what you and James have is rare—the exception that proves the rule. I’m not expecting that kind of marriage—I intend that it will be more like a business arrangement—”
“A business arrangement?”
“Mmm. Everything cut and dried beforehand, so there’ll be no unpleasant surprises for either of us. I intend for the two of us to agree on certain conditions, to set them out in a detailed legal contract, and then we’ll both sign on the dotted line. When we have children, we shall, of course, have to write out a second contract—”
“How many children?”
“Two. A boy and a girl.”
Sally chuckled. “You really do have everything planned, don’t you?” There was the sound of chair-legs scraping on brick. “I tell you, Nick, life isn’t that simple.” She said something else, which Laura didn’t hear, and they both laughed, then Sally said, “This heat’s getting to me. I’m going indoors for. a while.”
Laura heard footsteps crossing the patio, and then Nick’s voice, faintly. “I’m going out in ten minutes I have to go downtown. I want to know if there’s been any headway in the...” The footsteps and the voices faded away.
Laura’s breath came out in a rush, and it was only then that she realized she’d been holding it. She straightened, grimacing as she wiped sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. Eavesdropping—that was what she’d been doing.
Despite her twinges of guilt, though, she couldn’t help feeling glad she had heard what she had. It displayed Nick Diamond in an even more unflattering light than before, and confirmed her negative opinion of him. The man was not human ... he was little more than a machine. Whoever it was he planned to marry—Melody, the powder-blue blonde, of whom Sally approved?—whoever she was, someone should warn her...
Laura pushed all thoughts of Nick Diamond from her head as she finished her pruning; whatever he did, whomever he married, it was, thank the Lord, no concern of hers.
She was in her bedroom, getting ready to go down to the village for groceries, when she heard the sound of Nick’s Porsche backing out of the driveway next door and onto the street.
Firmly squashing an impulse to cross to the window to make sure he had gone, Laura continued brushing her hair, frowning at the long mousy strands. She really should have her hair cut and frosted, she mused. It looked so much prettier that way—the way it had looked when she was a teenager, the way it had looked when she’d met Jason.
Her eyes became shadowed. Jason. After they’d been married he had told her he hated it that way, and had insisted she let it revert to its natural color. She sighed. He had really done a number on her—and she had been too intimidated to fight back. Within weeks of their wedding day he’d changed her—had changed her image, her appearance.
He had tossed out her fashionable designer pants and pretty silk blouses, her perky summer shorts and tube tops, her favorite rings and earrings and bracelets ... and had made her replace the clothes with garments she’d detested—in dull shades and nondescript styles that had drawn the color from her cheeks and the sparkle from her eyes and had down-played her attractively curved figure. He had also prohibited her from wearing any jewelry other than her wedding and engagement rings. She had felt like a butterfly crushed brutally back into its chrysalis.
She had thought Jason had acted the way he had because he’d been twelve years older than she was, and had found her taste immature, but the reasons had been deeper and uglier than that. He had been jealously possessive—though it had taken Laura a long time to realize it.
Putting down her hairbrush, she shook her head as her glance skimmed over her reflection. She was still wearing clothes Jason had bought for her during their marriage—a shapeless beige blouse and a pair of drab and equally unflattering shorts.
Some day, she told herself, she would go on a shopping trip; some day, also, she would make an appointment at a beauty salon and get her hair done—but she had been dowdy for so long it was going to take an effort to break out of the chrysalis in which she’d been imprisoned. The day would come, though, when she’d feel up to it, when she’d feel strong enough to ignore the images of Jason—the cold and contemptuous and disapproving images that still lingered in her mind...
And that day, she sensed, feeling a little lurch of excitement, might come quite soon!
She was walking her bike down to the end of the drive when she saw Sally hurrying out to the sidewalk.
When Laura said, “Hi, there!” the other woman turned with a rueful grimace.
“I wanted to catch Nick but he’s gone! Drat—I I phoned the video store down in the village to see if they had a copy of The Seventh Secret. They said they had one left and they’d keep it for me—hut only till three-thirty—and I wanted to ask Nick to pick it up as he passed on his way to the lawyer’s office.” She brushed a curl back from her brow. “Ah, well, I guess I’ll have to phone and cancel—”
“I’m on my way to the village. I’ll pick it up for you, if you like.”
“Would you?” Sally’s face brightened. “Oh, that’s s sweet of you! Hang on a sec till I get my purse—”
“That’s okay—you can pay me later.”
“Come to the back door, would you, when you get home? The front doorbell’s awfully loud—wakes up the boys.”
“Right.” With a push of her foot, Laura was away, and moments later made a left turn from Juniper Avenue to the road leading down to the village.