The Lake of Dreams - Kim Edwards [138]
“What are you waiting for?” Yoshi asked.
“I don’t know. It’s just a little unsettling, that’s all. I don’t know what I’ll find.”
He shook his head. “Is it at all possible you won’t call in the end?” he asked. “Could you imagine finding her like this and never getting in touch?”
I laughed, glad for his calm, pragmatic view. “No. Not really.”
“So why wait? What’s the worst thing that could happen?”
“I don’t know.” And I didn’t—that was the problem. It wasn’t so much about finding Iris as it was about finding out whatever she might reveal about my family. Still, I pressed the final button. I let the phone ring. Six times, then seven. No answering machine, apparently. I was about to hang up, both disappointed and relieved, when a low voice spoke across the wires.
“This better not be a solicitor,” she said, severely. “You got me out of the bath.”
“Don’t you have an answering machine?” I asked, waving my hand at Yoshi’s quizzical look.
“Who is this?”
I took a deep breath. “You don’t know me,” I began.
“Good-bye, then. I’m not buying anything.”
“Look, please, don’t hang up, okay? It’s important. I’m not selling anything, I promise.”
“Well? What is it, then?”
“My name is Lucy Jarrett,” I said in a great rush. “My father was Martin and his father was Joseph and so was his grandfather. I have an idea that we might be related.”
There was a silence so long that I wondered if we’d been disconnected, or if the shock of my call had been so much that she’d collapsed after all.
“Hello?” I said. “Mrs. Stone, are you all right?”
“I’m quite fine,” came the crisp reply.
“Good. I’m so sorry to call out of the blue. I know it must be a shock.”
“What’s your name?”
“Lucy Jarrett.”
“And how old are you, Lucy Jarrett?”
“Twenty-nine. Thirty in October.”
“I see. Twenty-nine and thirty in October. Well, let me tell you this, Lucy Jarrett. I’m not interested in my roots. I cut my ties, do you understand? Long ago. Long before you were born. It’s not personal. But I’m going to hang up now, and I don’t want you to be calling me again. Do you understand me? Am I clear?”
“Yes, very clear, but please—let me give you my number. Because I have some information about Rose Jarrett. Maybe you knew her as Rose Westrum. That’s who I want to talk about, when you’re ready. If you’re ready, I should say. About Rose.”
There was a long silence then, and when she spoke I had the sense that her voice was trembling a little, though that might have been the connection.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
I took a deep breath and glanced at Yoshi, who was watching me intently, as if he didn’t know me, his expression so tight and pained that I knew he must be thinking about Keegan. “I found some letters,” I said. “They are letters written to you. From Rose, who knew you from the time you were very small.”
There was a silence.
“Give me your telephone number,” she said.
I did, and after repeating it once she hung up without saying good-bye, leaving me with a vast silence and a pounding heart.
“What happened?” Yoshi asked.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged, put the phone down on the table. “She’s the right person. She recognized Rose’s name, and at least she took my number. I’ll just have to wait and see if she calls back.”
“I think she’ll call back,” Yoshi said. “She’ll want to know what you’re talking about.”
I nodded. “How are you doing?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Lucy. I mean, I never expected to get here and find this.”
“I didn’t want to tell you