Of Dubious and Questionable Memory by Rachel McMillan Page B

tape trying to liberate you. I was able to do so with the strictest of warnings.” He yawned and then apologized. “And my word, Jemima. I’ve never seen Ray so angry.”
    â€œI burned the jam. Come to think of it, I left the door unlocked too… ”
    We were soon seated in the automobile and Jones, a young officer, began steering us toward Merinda’s flat on King Street.
    â€œWhen I heard,” Jasper was saying, “I dashed over to Ray as soon as Tipton let me go. Your husband threw a teacup. Took one of our new bicycles.”
    â€œThe new motorized fleet of bicycles!” Merinda positively jumped in her seat. “I’ve been longing to give them a try.”
    I shoved her back onto her seat, Officer Jones coughing uncomfortably at our disheveled appearance and Merinda’s improper behavior. We made it to King Street in near silence.
    â€œYou’re remembering the party tonight,” Merinda said to Jasper as he opened the door of the car for her. “Seven o’clock sharp. It’s going to be a wonderful evening. You’ll forget this unfortunate business ever happened!”
    Jasper’s countenance remained stern. “It’s a rather hard thing to forget, Merinda. I doubt you’d forget if the Chief said you were on a short thread for encouraging reckless lady detectives.”
    My stop was next, and I spent the moments of our journey staring out the window. Jones swerved the automobile to the curb of the Cabbagetown townhouse Ray and I had shared for the three short months of our new marriage.
    Jasper helped me out of the backseat and looked at me kindly. “Jem, you’re the sensible one.”
    I chortled. “Not so much.”
    â€œMy job is important to me.” He smiled. “You know that. Can you make her see that? She’s like a runaway train, barreling through everything in her path.”
    â€œYour job?” I hedged, knowing while his mouth said job , his heart said Merinda. I blinked into the sun as it settled above us with a cheeriness I didn’t feel. “She cares about you, Jasper.”
    Jasper gave a curt laugh. “Does she?”
    I gave his arm a quick squeeze. “She does. Happy birthday.”
    I waved him off and straightened my shoulders. I’d had such high hopes for yesterday, I thought, stepping slowly over the stone walkway. I picked my way between overrun weeds and shrubs I had no intention of taming with a careful manicure. I slowly turned the doorknob, hoping Ray was out on his usual beat.
    I wasn’t so fortunate. He bounded into the front hall at the turn of the door handle.
    I let him get through a string of Do you have any idea and Honestly, Jemima. His English was always far poorer when he was riled, and his flurry of furious words was knotted by drifts into Italian, his first language. Something seemed to have flustered him quite completely.
    Too tired to stand any longer after my sleepless night, I dropped on the sofa in my muddy clothes and sighed. “I knew this would happen. I knew even while I was shivering in that cold jail cell that you would be angry because I left the kitchen in a state and probably left the door open. I told Jasper as much, and he said you were in quite a state. And obviously we can chalk this up to one more disaster in my pursuit of domestic proficiency.”
    Ray dug his finger under his collar for a moment. Cocked his head to the side. Blinked a few more times. “The kitchen ? Are you seriously thinking that—”
    â€œThere’s no sense in just standing there fuming at me. Go get a drink of water. My goodness, even the tips of your ears are red! I am not going to fight back. I had grand plans for yesterday. I was going to cook something wonderful and of course not leave the kitchen a charred mess—”
    â€œJem, have you been listening to me at all?”
    â€œYes. And I am dreadfully sorry. You have every right to