“I thought I should come and talk to you,” he said, “because you wrote the foreword in the book, which was pretty spot on for the most part. Mr.Miller captured everything very well. He’s a good writer. It really took me back and helped me remember all those wonderful summer days with our guitars.” He gazed out the window and seemed lost in thought for a moment before he returned his attention to Gwen. “How did you know about all that?”
Trying not to stumble over her words, she jostled to explain. “Valerie’s friend Jeremy, in Alaska, had an excellent memory. They were quite close, and she shared a lot with him but also with Angie, who was close to Jeremy. He didn’t want to be acknowledged as the chief source of the information, even though he let Peter write about his role in the events.”
Mr.Thornby nodded. “Valerie told me about Jeremy and Angie. It was very sad, what happened to her.”
Gwen pondered his reply as her thoughts picked up speed. She soon found herself sitting back with even more clarity, as if she were viewing everything from a great height, like a bird on the wind. “If she talked to you about Jeremy, that means you must have seen each other again, after the earthquake. We didn’t know about that.”
“I’m aware,” Mr.Thornby replied. “I’ve read the book.”
Gwen pressed her palm to her forehead. “You said we got it right for the most part. What did we get wrong? Will you tell me?”
He shifted to sit more comfortably in the chair. “That’s why I came. And I brought you some things.” He glanced down at his backpack. “They should be in the museum.”
Gwen’s heart started to pound like a jackhammer, and all she could think about was Peter and how she wished he was here.
While Mr.Thornby unzipped his backpack, she held up a hand. “Wait. If you’re going to tell me things, would it be okay if I called Peter Miller, the author of the book, and set him up on speakerphone so hecould listen in as well? Or maybe I could record what you say and share it with him later?”
“You can call him if you like,” Mr.Thornby replied. “And feel free to record anything. I realize it probably has some historical value.”
“It definitely does.” Gwen’s hands trembled as she dialed Peter’s cell phone number.
He answered right away but groggily. “Hello?”
Gwen checked her watch. “Hi, it’s me. Sorry to wake you. I know it’s early there, but this is important. Can I put you on speakerphone?”
Peter cleared his throat, and she imagined him sitting up in bed, fighting to think clearly. “Sure. But I apologize in advance if I’m slow to keep up. I need coffee.”
She pressed the speakerphone button and laid her device on the desk. “I promise this will be better than coffee.” She smiled at Mr.Thornby. “It’ll wake you right up. You might even levitate.”
Peter spoke in a clearer voice. “This sounds interesting.”
Gwen rested both arms on the desk and leaned over the phone. “Do you remember when you were at my house and you saw my yearbook with pictures of me in the high school musical?”
“I do,” Peter replied.
“I told you about my favorite teacher, Mr.Thornby?”
“Yes.”
“Well, he’s here with me now, sitting in my office. He came to see me this morning because he read your book. He enjoyed it very much.”
“Oh,” Peter replied. “I’m honored. Gwen had such great things to say about you, Mr.Thornby.”
Gwen’s heart warmed at Peter’s politeness, but she couldn’t let him go on like this, thinking this was just a phone call from an admiring fan.
“Mr.Thornby has some important information for us,” she told him. “It turns out he knew Valerie. More than knew her, actually. His first name is Andrew. Or Drew.” Gwen paused and waited for Peter to connect the obvious dots.
He remained silent.
“Are you okay? Should I call 911?” she asked.
Peter chuckled. “You were right. This is better than coffee. I’m wide awake now.”
Gwen smiled. “I told you. So all this time, Mr.Thornby has been living here in Wolfville, and he wants to tell us about his relationship with Valerie. I’m going to let him talk now. He’s also given us permission to record him, so I’m going to set that up on my phone, and you can do the same thing if you like, as a backup. Is that all right, Mr.Thornby?”
“It’s fine,” he replied. “I’m still amazed by all this modern technology. If we had this in 1963, life would have been different. Scarlett Fontaine might never have existed.”
Gwen couldn’t disagree. If only Valerie had had Instagram in Alaska. Mr.Thornby might have been directing high school musicals in Valdez instead of the Annapolis Valley.
