The Wicked Web Unfolds

To steal a line from Sir Walter Scott: “Oh what a wicked web we weave when first we practice to deceive.” For six months almost to the day, I have been weaving a deception. Some would call it a lie, which admittedly has been fabricated, refabricated and embellished upon periodically, until yesterday. Yesterday the truth was released like a dove from a gilded cage.

It all began when I had “embarrassed” my partner into a decision to sell our beloved home in Ontario and to move to Nova Scotia. Those are his words. But the decision was one I very much wanted and he freely and excitedly made upon realizing that despite our ages, life was far from over for us.

We have visited Nova Scotia for many years now, usually in the autumn. The lure of the sea has infiltrated our souls. My brother, Tim, his wife, Fabienne, and three adult children all have settled here. Over time, they have witnesses our enthusiasm for the place and its people. Often they have spoken to us, perhaps in jest, about moving here. We have assured them, it was not an option.

So, when the decision was made, we kept it to ourselves. It was far from a “done deal”. We did not want to dangle a carrot before them only to have it stolen away by a hungry rodent.

Yesterday we were to meet my Nova Scotia family at the Annapolis Royal market. They knew only that we had flown down for a very short visit on the occasion of a fabricated excuse – the 50^th wedding anniversary of friends. We had told them we were staying in a guest house nearby, at the generous invitation of the absent owners, and they were invited back for lunch after the market.

Keeping a secret is very difficult. It is all the more difficult over a six month period. Sometimes one needs a helper to advance the ruse. So, I had engaged and tormented my niece Nicola as keeper of the secret. That is a much longer story. Let us just say that Nicola kept us apprised of comings and goings of family in the vicinity of our new home. She emailed to let us know that on a certain day her sister would be passing by en route to a hospital to have a cast removed from her wrist. We did not worry. We were housebound all day unpacking. However, that evening we were tired and hungry. Our kitchen was not yet set up. So, we went to the local pub for supper. Most certainly Eileen would be long gone.

Not so. Eileen and a friend had decided to visit the historic town and to stay for supper at the pub. They were positioned facing the door. A bewildered Eileen saw two men walk in who looked very much like her favourite uncles… No… Yeeees! And so we sat for supper with the two smiling, laughing, delighted young women and purchased their secrecy by buying them dinner! We did take them back to show them our still empty new home.

On the appointed day of reckoning, we drove to our new home ahead of the family. When they arrived in our drive and got out of their car, they were in wonder at the view and of the quaintness of the house where we were certainly most fortunate to be staying. “I want to stay here too”, annouced Fabienne. They entered the front door and stood in the hall. My brother’s wife announced how lovely the two main rooms at the front were: “like a museum”. Eileen stood quietly by, smiling knowingly, but keeping her end of the bargain.

Tim walked into the living room and noticed an antique secretary desk, “just like the one mum used to have”. He turned slightly and noticed an antique Wellington chest: “mum had one of those too!” The circle continued: - “and that table, I have never seen another one like it!” – he turned some more – the grandfather clock to the right of the fireplace caught his attention: “the clock … what’s going on?” he said in a puzzled, muddled sort of way.

“We live here”, we said. “We bought the place”. Fabienne chipped in: “Bought what?” “The house”, we replied. Tim's eyes welled in tears. “You mean it’s all been lies – you aren’t living at a friend’s home in Parry Sound?” That car in the drive isn’t rented?” “No, we’ve been here a week now… We live here!”

And so the tale unfolded.