Listen ...Three Weeks Last Spring

THREE WEEKS LAST SPRING by Victoria Howard
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Chapter One

England April 1999

Skye Dunbar stood by the window, and looked out across the meadow, and waited for the transatlantic phone call to connect. It had been a miserable weekend—dull, wet and cold, cold as the heart that beat inside her breast. She glanced at her watch, and calculated the time difference, between London and San Francisco.

After a few rings, a sleepy American voice answered.

"Hello?"

"Debbie? It's Skye. Did I wake you?"

"Not really, I was lying here thinking about getting up. Talk to me, you sound anxious."

Skye took a deep breath. "I have decided to take a months' sabbatical. I've contacted American Airlines and have an option on a flight leaving in just over a weeks' time. They're holding it for the next twenty-four hours."

"Why, that's great. You need to get away and you know San Francisco loves you."

"Actually, Debbie, that's why I’m calling, I'm not flying to San Francisco. I'm going to Seattle and—"

"Skye, you can't possibly want to spend a month there, not after all that happened last year."

"I can't explain why, but I need to go back." Skye twisted a strand of her hair between her fingers while she waited for Debbie's response.

"I don't understand, and if you want my advice, you’ll come here and stay with me. After all that lying bastard put you through, I’m amazed that you can even contemplate being within a one thousand mile radius of Washington State. Please, come here and stay with me. We can visit all our old haunts—Fisherman's Wharf, Chinatown. We can go for a drink in the John Barleycorn and listen to that folk singer you liked so much. And if that doesn’t appeal, then we could hire a car and drive along the coast. You haven't seen the Marin Headlands or Monterey yet. And if you wait until I get to the office on Monday I'll see if I can beg for some vacation time. Perhaps we could meet somewhere else. How about Vermont?"

"That's a lovely thought, Debbie, and I do want to see Vermont, but in the Fall. Please, save your holiday time. This is just something I have to do on my own. I can't explain it why. I go to bed at night and in my dreams I see this figure on a beach. I know it's me. It sounds crazy, I know, and I really don't expect you to understand. Just give me your blessing and tell me that if I need you, you’ll be there for me, okay?"

"I guess you know what is in your heart, although I really do worry about you, Skye. You have to put what happened behind you and move on. So, tell me, just where are you going?"

"I've rented a cabin in the San Juans."

"You've done what? No-one goes to the San Juan Islands in the middle of April. It’s too cold for one thing and Friday Harbor will be deserted. What will you do there for a whole month on your own?"

"I thought I’d catch up on some reading, go walking and generally enjoy the scenery."

"Hmm, I don't know. If you ask me, the last thing you need is to be by yourself. However, now that you've made your mind up I don't suppose there's much I can say to dissuade you. But promise me, if you become too upset or lonely up there, you’ll get on the first available plane to me, here in San Francisco. Deal?"

"Deal. And, Debbie," Skye hesitated before continuing, "thanks for understanding. You’re the best friend anyone could ask for. As soon as I finalize my plans I'll let you know."