Chapter 19
Linney arrived back in London to the exciting news that they’d finally cracked the bureaucracy and she’d have all her papers for Syria within two weeks. Suddenly the threat of danger became real, and she was alternately terrified and exhilarated. She, Linney McDonnell, was going to open TCN’s first bureau in Damascus.
Grant, her cameraman, would join her in a few weeks, once she got the in-county bureaucracy out of the way, with the help of Hassan, the amazing fixer they’d found. Hassan, who was fluent in English and French along with his native Arabic, would use his local knowledge to help her arrange interviews, to translate, and smooth the waters for anything TCN wanted to do in Syria. But before that, he would be indispensable in getting the bureau set up and introducing her to the city so she could get around on her own. From Damascus, Linney planned to travel to other countries to report on elections, uprisings, and other world events. It was a great place to be situated.
When she met Hassan, greeting him in the little bit of Arabic she’d learned so far, she was so pleased with the choice. He was a well-educated, honest, liberal-leaning man who sometimes wrote for a Syrian media outlet that was critical of the government. He knew what she needed, and he made sure she got it. Nobody would be ripping Linney off with Hassan by her side. And Hassan was equally pleased to be working with Linney, and TCN in particular.
Grant was equally impressed when he landed. “Salam Alaykum,” he greeted Hassan.
“Alaykumu salam,” the young man answered back with a warm smile and they knew they’d both passed some kind of test.
Time roared by as Linney and Grant climbed a steep learning curve. They spent time with the expat journalism community getting the lay of the land. One evening, they were sitting in a local tea garden when a slim unassuming man who Linney guessed was in his late fifties approached them. “You are from TCN, ja?” he asked. “I am Ernst Zimmerman. I work sometimes with ATV in Germany as a photographer and they have space in the same building as you. Please let me know if I can help. I’m only here for a few days now, but I know Damascus well.”
Linney’s eyes lit up, and she stuck out her hand. “Linney McDonnell. We’d love to pick your brain. Will you join us for a cup of tea?” One tea turned into three and soon Grant called it a night while Linney and Ernst continued to trade stories, tossing out names to figure out who they had in common. It turned out that they’d covered many of the same international events recently, but somehow had never run into each other. Ernst was lovely—and modest it turned out. Over the next weeks, Linney met with him for tea or a drink at least once a week and managed to tease out of him the number of awards he’d won for his photography. She was beginning to feel settled in Damascus in a way she never had in Jerusalem. Her apartment was spartan but functional, and it was close to the office. Hassan spoke with the caretaker regularly and he had helped her find the best souks and a good grocery store. Linney was more interested in work than making a home.
Hassan invited Linney and Grant to his house for the Eid al-Fitr celebration, which marked the end of Ramadan. They met his wife, a beautiful hijabi with a university degree in chemistry and good, but tentative English. This was a dichotomy Linney was learning to understand and accept. Their son was keen to show off his language skills in English and French. Linney and Grant enjoyed their visit in Hassan’s fig-tree-shaded garden. At the end of the afternoon, they were stuffed with Syrian delicacies and sweets, along with gallons of strong black tea and dates. It was a lovely peaceful afternoon amid the chaos of reporting the news and Linney made plans to see Hasan’s wife outside of work, trading English conversation or Syrian cooking lessons.
* * *
Damascus was getting more dangerous,Linney could tell, but that just made the job more thrilling. As time went on, the wait times at checkpoints grew longer and mortars became more frequent. She’d stopped jumping at the sound of shelling in the distance. It was still safe in the so-called green zone, where she lived, with cafés and restaurants doing good business. But Syrians were fleeing the country and she could see the signs of tension on their faces of those who remained every day.
From time to time, Linney travelled to other cities in the Middle East to cover other stories. She and Ernst were both in Beirut when demonstrators and police became violent in Lebanon’s capital city. Water cannons were pointed at citizens who were peacefully protesting the government’s actions. Reaching a line of police, Linney waved her press credentials. Grant and Ernst did the same, and they were allowed into the area where citizens held placards and shouted slogans. She plunged in further. It was going to make great TV.
Suddenly a canister was thrown into the crowd right in front of her and Linney’s eyes and lungs burned from the white fog of tear gas. Further behind her, Ernst had been quick to put on goggles, pull a scarf over his nose and mouth, and run into the crowd. Grant had done the same. Coughing and wheezing, Linney stumbled away, and when she reached safety with several others in the doorway of an apartment building, she tore off her glasses as tears streamed down her cheeks from the gas. Residents brought down bottles of water to rinse their eyes and Linney gratefully accepted.
After some time, she was able to put her glasses back on, and despite continued irritation, Linney plunged back out into the street to talk to as many people as she could. Grant arrived back first and rushed back to their hotel to upload footage. Linney waited for Ernst for as long as she could before she had to join Grant to record a standup so their story could be filed. When she didn’t see him by dinner time, she was concerned, but he turned up in the hotel bar later that evening, his shirt ripped and a bruise forming on his cheekbone.
“Ernst!”
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine. Next time you wear goggles, ja?”
Linney laughed, and then coughed from her irritated throat. Her eyes were still red, and she’d learned a valuable lesson that day.
Ernst asked the bartender for schnapps and tossed it back. “It was a long day. I will go to bed now.”
“I’ll walk up with you,” Linney said. Their rooms were on the same floor. As they got off the elevator, she looked up at his face, wiping away the dirt still on his cheekbone with her thumb. “I was so worried about you.” Before she knew what was happening, they were hungrily kissing each other. They made it back to her room, where the adrenaline-fuelled kissing continued at a feverish pace. Two consenting adults, who had experienced something terrifying, came together to create something pure and primal.
“This should not have happened, Liebling,” Ernst said as he sat up in bed later that evening.
“I’m on the pill.”
“No, not that. But that is good too.” Ernst pulled his shirt over his head. “This—what happened—is just a reaction to danger. We are not … Linney please don’t let yourself think this means anything.”
Linney nodded. “Don’t worry, I understand. I know what this was. And what it wasn’t.”
* * *
Derek was doing his best,but six months after Olivia had left them, he was still struggling. Leo hit his terrible twos right on time and was a holy terror throwing tantrums and toys constantly. Ivy was teething, and the pain in her gums had her drooling and fussing. Derek loved his work, but his days were long and whenever he was in the office, he felt he should be home. If he left early, he knew he was letting his clients down. Between the demands of two young children and his job, he was bone tired. He never made it back to basketball.
The final straw was when Zuzanna reluctantly handed in her notice. Her family needed her back in Poland after her mother had suffered a stroke, she told him. It was another shock for Derek, and it made him worry for his own mother’s health, just one more thing adding to the growing list of concerns that kept him up at night.
A nanny agency helped to fill the gap, but Derek couldn’t find someone who was the right fit for him and his children and that he could afford. He was far too proud to pursue child support from Olivia—she’d made her feelings about motherhood more than clear. So with only one income , he knew he had to make a change—a big one, if he wasn’t going to lose his sanity. Some days, the only thing that kept him going was the early morning and late night texting with Linney. She was far enough away to give him perspective, but close enough to him to tell him what he needed to hear. He pulled out his phone. He needed to work something through with her. An idea that just might work.
Where are you today? What time is it? Can you talk?
Cairo, for their elections. 7 hrs difference. Can text though.
I need advice.
Lay it on me.
Mum called me today. Mr. Graham is retiring and selling his law practice back home. She thinks it would be a good idea for me to move up there. Slower pace, money at least as good as I’m making now, and she could help with the kids until they’re ready for preschool. What do you think?
There’s a lot to like about being at Silver Lake, my friend. But what do YOU think?
I love the city. I’ve spent my whole adult life here. There’s so much to offer Leo and Ivy. But…
But?
But if I’m honest, I’m dying here. I still see Olivia around every corner. I can’t find a nanny to replace Zuzanna.
I used to love my job, but these days it’s hard to get up the enthusiasm to go to the office. There’s not enough time for the kids. Life would be simpler at the lake…
Maybe that’s telling you something.
But give up my work? A small-town law office was never my dream.
No, but maybe it’s what you *need* now. You could always go back to the city later when the kids are older. I’m sure your mum would be thrilled to have you home.
She’s even talked about us moving in with her, but that’s impossible. The house only has two bedrooms. And it’s way too small for all of us. We could renovate when I sell the apartment, but that would take time. So there’s that.
I bet Danny would fit you in. And maybe Jake could be your architect. But what about my place while you wait?
???
Seriously. My tenant has already told me he’s retiring and moving south. It could work for you for a few months—or longer if you need it to. And then your mum is right next door. Close but not on top of you.
Are you serious?
Yes, of course!
That’s incredibly generous. I don’t know what to say.
Derek’s brain was spinning. He drove up to Silver Lake to meet Mr. Graham in person and they talked at length about the business. Derek’s mother was excited about the chance of having her son and grandchildren closer. Linney had given him the perfect solution. Her house would give him his own space while they expanded his mother’s house next door.
Derek took the kayak out and spent an hour skimming across the lake and thinking, his broad shoulders powering even strokes that created a meditative rhythm. He could teach the children to enjoy the lake. He would be home for dinner every night. They could skip stones together and hike up to the waterfalls. By the time he pulled the kayak up onto the shore, he’d decided. For the first time in a very long time, something felt right.
“There’s something different about you,” Aiden said when they had lunch at the diner the next week. “And I can’t figure out what.”
Aiden ordered his usual burger and fries, but Derek surprised him, asking for a clubhouse sandwich.
“See, that’s what I mean,” said Aiden. “Something’s off.”
“I have news,” Derek said, leaning back in the booth.
Aiden sat up straight, with interest. “Don’t tell me you’ve found a woman.” Aiden had been bugging Derek about dating for a couple of months now.
“Afraid not. Something bigger. I’m leaving Legal Aid.”
“What? Did one of the big firms make you an offer? You know you’ll see even less of your kids if you get on that ladder.”
The waitress brought their plates, and the conversation stopped until she brought the ketchup and vinegar around.
“Seriously, Derek. There has to be a better way.” Aiden shoved some fries in his mouth.
“There is. I’m leaving the city. The lawyer in Silver Lake is retiring. It’s a great opportunity to be my own boss, set my own hours, and my mum is there to help with the kids.”
“Whoa. That’s a big change.” Aidan sat there with a fry halfway to his mouth, thinking. “I guess that probably makes sense for you right now. I’ll miss you though. When do you leave?”
“Soon. Within a couple of months. I’ll have a house—you can come up and visit if you like.”
“Maybe. It’s always hard to get away. You know.”
Derek nodded. He did know, and it was part of why he had to make the move. “Well, if you can.”
Derek handed in his resignation and put the temporary nanny on notice. As if to punctuate the end of this chapter, divorce papers showed up the week before he left Toronto. Derek signed the papers with sadness and sent them back along with a note about the move. Olivia should know where her children were, but he knew now that she was never coming back. And after what she’d put him through, Derek wouldn’t have taken her back anyway. He would build a whole new life for his family in Silver Lake.
They threw him a great going away party at the office, and Aiden took him out for one last drink.
“To new beginnings.” The two friends lifted their frosted beer mugs.
“It’s not going to be the same without you down the hall,” Derek admitted. “I’m starting to feel a bit nervous about all of this.”
“You’re doing the right thing for your family.” Aiden’s gruff voice betrayed his emotions. “But, yeah, I’m going to miss you too.” He munched on some bar nuts to compose himself.
“I hope you will come up to the lake from time to time,” Derek said. “Check out the slow life, make sure I haven’t become a hermit!” He laughed. “Seriously though. There’s room at Linney’s place. Consider it an open invitation.”
“I’ll do my best,” Aiden assured him, and the men turned their attention to the game on the TV behind the bar. For once, Toronto was winning.
“Another beer to celebrate?” Aiden held up his empty mug when the game ended.
“No thanks. One’s my limit.” Derek always stuck to his rule, and a time when things were unsettled was no time to break it. “I’d better get going. Lots to do before the truck arrives in a couple of days.”
Aiden slid off his barstool and clapped him on the back. “It’s been a good run, man. Good luck and safe travels. I’ll come and visit as soon as I can.”
Derek pulled his coat around him and nodded. “Thanks, Aiden. For everything.” With that, he plunged into the dark night. This chapter of his life was over.