- Steele of My Innocence 1/?
- Prologue
Date: Wed, 1 Mar 2000
Linda <bonnell@ix.netcom.com>
No bad language, no adult situations
My father always promised us
That we would live in France,
We'd go boating on the Seine
And I would learn to dance. . . .
When they threw open the apartment door, Harry was struck by
its spare interior. This was Paris after all! The room was almost
completely devoid of ornamentation. Almost. For on every horizontal
surface, every table, window sill, and bookcase, were photographs,
and in them he was astonished to see his own life documented,
or at least his life since he met Laura. Mingled among the glossy
photos of Frances, Frances and Donald, and their children were
photographs of Laura alone and Laura with Harry. Even their wedding
portrait was prominently exhibited on the fireplace mantel. Newspaper
clippings that documented their more sensational cases were also
displayed.
The room was dusty, the air was heavy. Through an open window
came random street-sounds.
Laura and Frances slowly walked into the room, while Donald and
Harry hung back. Harry was gladdened to see that in grief and
sorrow the Holt sisters drew strength from one another. Frances
gripped Laura's hand tightly as they
stared at the tableau of their father's life, laid bare before
them, or at least his life since he gave up the right to call
himself their father. Laura brought a hand to her mouth, spinning
silently around the room, trying to take it all in, to analyze
it, to discern its meaning. As she did, Harry caught sight of
her profile, and his eyes trailed downward, over the growing
evidence of the child who was soon to be. The barely suppressed
rage for Thomas Holt boiled to the surface once again. The last
thing Laura needed was this intrusion into their lives, especially
now.
And yet-----and yet something wasn't quite right. How did Holt
acquire all of these intimate mementos of his daughters' lives?
Their triumphs, their joys, even their daily existences, were
authenticated here, in their father's home, six thousand miles
from their own. The newspaper passages were certainly easy enough
to come by. But how to decipher all the rest? A kernel of a theory
occurred to Harry, and as it enlarged he became terrified for
Laura. He began to suspect that there were more revelations yet
to come, and exposed truths that Laura might not be prepared
to confront.
Unnoticed by the four occupants, a woman entered the dwelling
silently. She remained near the door, watching Thomas's children
unearth their father's love for them. Harry noticed her first,
a tall, elegant woman, with upswept
gray hair. She bore tragedy in her visage as well, and Harry
instinctively took a step toward her as Laura, Donald, and Frances
noticed her also. She glided past the two men to where Laura
and Frances clung together near the window.
"My dear Laura and Frances. You should not have learned
the truth this way."
End of part 1
**Lyrics are from My Father, written by Judy Collins
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