“I, uh—”
She spun away. “Why am I even asking? Of course you knew. Evelyn tells you everything. Not that she would spare the same courtesy for her own family.” She stomped toward the bedroom.
“She’s asleep,” I said hurriedly.
“I don’t care!” Without knocking, she stormed into the bedroom. “Oi, tosser! Wake up!”
I hurried in to find Marie smacking Evelyn repeatedly with a pillow. She paid no mind to the enormous brace keeping Evelyn’s shoulder still. Evelyn groaned, yanked the pillow out of her sister’s grasp with her good hand, and threw it across the room.
“What are you doing here?” Evelyn grumbled sleepily. “Don’t you have a life?”
Marie burst into tears, leapt onto the bed, and engulfed her sister in a hug. “You would have told me not to, stupid.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes and patted Marie’s back. “Because I’m fine and you live thousands of miles away.”
“I wanted to make sure you were fine for myself,” Marie said. “Besides, it’s been too long since I last saw you, and I wanted to ask your opinion about some wedding things. Hi, Jack,” she added, wiping her eyes and flashing me a bright smile. Now that she’d seen Evelyn was okay, she wasn’t so scary. “It’s good to see you again.”
I’d forgotten Marie could switch from terrifying to bewitching in a matter of seconds. Her soft gaze made me feel like a small toad in the presence of an ethereal elf. “You too. I promise I’ve been doing what I can to take care of Evelyn.”
“I can see that,” she said. “Do you mind if we have a moment alone?”
I left the sisters to catch up and immediately wished I hadn’t. Dad had returned from whatever errands he’d been running. He looked up as he took off his shoes by the door.
“Is someone here?” he asked, spotting Marie’s overnight bag.
“Evelyn’s sister flew in from the States to surprise her.”
Dad nodded. We stood in awkward silence, unsure how to proceed.
“I should get going—”
“This is a perfect opportunity—” he said at the same time.
We both fell quiet, waiting for the other person to finish their sentence.
“You go,” I said.
He cleared his throat. “I was saying this is a perfect opportunity for the two of us to do something together. Do you have anything in mind?”
“Oh, shoot,” I said, doing my best to sound disappointed. “I would, but I have plans with someone in Oxford.”
For the record, it was true. I wanted to track down Henry Alcott. With Marie entertaining Evelyn, I had some time to kill at Oxford. Henry’s name had popped up twice in conjunction with the Ripper case. First, he had been arrested for potential involvement in Rosie Brigham’s murder. Then, despite his airtight alibi, his name had shown up on the list of jasmine-scented shampoo buyers.
Of course, I couldn’t tell my father my real plans. He would stop me from going and feed me a bitter, hour-long lecture I didn’t need to hear.
“Ah.” He put his hands in his pockets and gazed across the skyline. His lower lip jutted out, an intentional hint to let me know of his chagrin. “Who are you going to meet? Anyone I know?”
“Nadine Patel,” I lied. Hers was the first name that popped into my head. Besides, she was currently the only contact of mine at Oxford. “I’m not sure if you remember her. She was—”
He snapped his fingers in recognition. “One of your mother’s students! Yes, she was great. A smart whip too. Your mother never stopped talking about her.” His smile widened. “How about I tag along? I’d love to see Nadine again.”
Panic made my stomach flip-flop. “She’s not expecting two of us. I think she made reservations somewhere, and I doubt they can change them—”
“Nonsense.” Dad unearthed a nicer sweater from his duffel bag, laid it flat, and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of it with the palms of his hands. “It’ll be fun to surprise her. We all used to go to dinner together whenever I was in town.” He pointed to my oversized T-shirt and raggedy jeans. “Are you wearing that? It’s not exactly up to Oxford’s standards.”
After I changed into slacks, a gray cable knit sweater, and the warmest boots I owned, my father and I bid goodbye to Evelyn and Marie and headed to Oxford. While I drove, he went on and on about memories he had of Nadine, Mom, and the university itself. On any other day, I would have jumped for joy to hear stories about Mom, but I was too busy concocting escape plans to enjoy reliving the past.
“Where are we meeting her?” he asked excitedly.
I slowly roved the streets of Oxford. Usually, the complicated traffic patterns and lack of parking spots would have irritated me. Today, I was happy to have an excuse to stall for as long as possible. I drove circles around the historical buildings, hoping I’d never find an open place to park.
“I’m not sure,” I said. “We’re playing it by ear.”
Because I was a big, fat liar.
Dad pointed ahead of him. “There’s a parking spot. Quick, grab it before someone else pulls in!”
“That spot’s tiny. I can’t damage the car. It’s Evelyn’s company car.”
“There’s plenty of space. Go on then.”
Hiding a sigh, I maneuvered the car into the space. Dad hopped out and flattened the wrinkles from his shirt. I pretended to type something on my phone, all the while wondering how the hell I would pull this off.
“Let’s go.” Dad tapped the face of his watch. “We’re going to be late.”
“Can’t be late for a fake date,” I muttered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” I said, moseying out of the car. “I’m ready.”
With no heading, I walked in the general direction of a few pubs I knew were nearby. A hasty plan formed in my head. I would pick a restaurant to “meet” Nadine at, fake a phone call to her, and tell Dad she couldn’t make it. The trip
