Giles Blunt - Until the Night

There was no way of heating up the shack. The stove’s exhaust pipe was still in the roof, but there were marks where the stove had been dragged to the fishing hole. There was a toboggan hanging on one wall. Cardinal got it down and rolled Hayley onto it. He took her across the ice to the next cabin.

He got her inside and close to the stove. It was already going, although turned low. He turned it up and went back outside. The dead man’s outline was still visible beneath the ice, but Cardinal looked away. He picked up Durie’s coat and went back inside and wrapped it around the unconscious woman.

This whole time, he was speaking to her, telling her she was going to be all right, she would be warm soon. Her skin was palest blue, but she had not been exposed to wind, there was no sign of frostbite. He thought of the young scientist dying of cold so many years ago. He thought of his own distant daughter. And for some reason, he thought of Lise Delorme.

Delorme had been so strange for the past couple of weeks that Cardinal was surprised when she picked up the phone on the first ring, and even more surprised when she agreed to go out with him for a celebratory dinner.

“Where did you have in mind?”

“I don’t know. Someplace nice.”

“Not too nice, okay? And not too celebratory.”

By which she apparently meant she was fine with celebrating the fact that Hayley Babstock was making a rapid recovery and would be out of the hospital in a day or two. And with celebrating the arrest of Leonard Priest and the fall of Garth Romney. But she would not clink her champagne glass with him to “Senior Detective Delorme.”

“There’s not even any such position,” she said.

“No, but you’ll be running your own homicide investigations from now on. Chouinard’s your new biggest fan.”

“That was before he had all the gory details.”

Come again?”

The waiter appeared and recited a list of richly detailed specials. Cardinal thanked him and said they needed a few minutes.

“Come on, John. You’ve heard the rumours.”

Cardinal shook his head.

“You will. Priest’s attorney is Bob Brackett, and you can be sure he’ll bring them out. I had to warn Chouinard, and he’ll probably have to warn the chief. I’ll even have to warn the crown. That should be a laugh.”

“What’d you do, Lise-sleep with the guy?”

“Not exactly.”

And so she told him. The waiter came back to take their order, but they just ordered wine. When he was gone, Delorme told Cardinal about Priest breaking into her house, and how she’d put the cuffs on him.

“He broke into your house, Lise. It’s hardly your fault how you were dressed. I don’t see why you’re so uptight about this. You didn’t have sex with him, right?”

“No.”

“Even if you had, you’d have every right to plead duress. He broke into your house, for God’s sake.”

Delorme looked down at the tablecloth. “I feel like I’m back in the confessional. I’m so afraid of what you’ll think of me.”

“You think I’m that judgmental?”

“There’s more, unfortunately.”

She told him about being at Priest’s place. Beside him on the couch.

“I let things go too far. And I, uh…”

“It’s okay, Lise. You don’t have to tell me.”

Her voice was barely a whisper. “I let him touch me.”

Cardinal sat back. He looked away, across the tables and banquettes, the snowy tablecloths, the sparkling goblets. “But you were undercover, right? Recording the conversation, and all. We have leeway, you know, in those circumstances.”

She reached halfway across the table. Her hand beside his wineglass. “I’m not telling you this because of the legal ramifications.”

“No. No, I realize.”

“So… do you have any other response?”

Cardinal nodded. “It doesn’t feel good, Lise. It feels pretty awful, if you really want to know.”

“I thought you didn’t care about me. You regretted that night of the party, and…”

“I was confused, Lise. I was so afraid of losing what we had. What we have. But I’m not anymore.” He sat forward and touched her wrist. She opened her hand and closed her fingers around his. “Ever since that night of the party, feeling you drift away from me. Turn away. Whatever. I can’t believe it isn’t obvious to you.”

“It isn’t.”

“I am totally and absolutely in love with you. I don’t ever want to be with anyone else. And I don’t want to be just friends. I don’t know why I haven’t said it sooner. I’m just an idiot sometimes. As you know.”

Delorme gave a tight smile and withdrew her hand. She sat back with a sigh.

“It’s just like Chouinard.”

“Chouinard. You’re going to have to explain that one.”

“You don’t have all the facts.”

“I know everything I need to know. Trust me.”

“I do, John. It’s me I don’t trust.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything more. We’re not kids. I’m not, anyway. You don’t owe me anything. You haven’t made any promises. You haven’t broken any vows. Why don’t we just start from where we are? Can we just start from here, and not make any more confessions?”

“I don’t know. I need to think about it. I just-I’m not the kind of person I want to be. And I think you deserve someone better.”

Cardinal laughed. “You say something like that and you have no idea how ridiculous it is. I can’t take any more. Can we please just order some food?”

“Just one more confession and then we can order, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I love you, too. That’s it. No more confessions. Not tonight, anyway.”

“Good.”

Cardinal opened his menu. He was looking at it but not really seeing it. He couldn’t have said what was on it. Lise was looking at hers too. The sounds of a dozen conversations hovered around them. Sounds of wine corks, glassware, laughter.

“Kind of weird, isn’t it,” she said, “after all these years.”

“It certainly is. It’s good, though.”

“I definitely like it. But I have to say, I’m also scared, still. I mean, it’s great. We love each other, but…”

“Uh-oh,” Cardinal said. “We love each other. Now what?”

“Exactly. Now what?”