I walk back towards the house.
It looms, looking perfectly stable, solid, a thing that will stand for another hundred years. But I know it’s rotting. A leviathan decaying on its foundations. Dying slowly, still living, shifting, moving, its death throes sending vibrations through the earth. Inhabited by prey and predators. Liars and thieves and cheats and murderers. And I’m one of them, it cannot be denied; one of them by blood and acts.
As I approach the kitchen garden, I see my mother-uncle crossing the lawn heading in the direction of my surgery. He sees me and changes course, smiling. I do not return it. I try to walk past him, but he catches at my hand, pulls me to a halt.
‘Asher, my Asher! So bleak an expression. What’s wrong, my girl?’
‘You lied to me,’ I say flatly.
‘I’m afraid you’ll need to be more specific. In relation to what?’ Her tone is cool; she never liked being called a liar even when she was caught in the middle of one.
‘When I asked if Luther had killed Hilarie Beckwith you said no, but I asked the wrong question, didn’t I?’ I take a shaking breath, uncertain if my anger comes from weariness or distress. ‘You didn’t tell me Luther knew Luned had done it.’
‘Of course I didn’t tell you. I knew how you’d react, my little silly. Always so upright about these things.’ She touches my face and it’s all I can do not to scream; I pull away as if scalded.
‘Upright? Do you have any idea what I’ve done? The lies I’ve told, the things I’ve stolen, the blood I’ve spilled?’
‘And you have done those things for me because you’re my good daughter, Asher Todd. Asher Morwood. Shall we call you that? Shall we acknowledge you as mine? Luther’s scattered so many bastards around here, why not another? Show your glorious face, give you another name. No one would ever know – Asher Todd would leave, and you would arrive, seeking your father. And when the time comes, Morwood could be yours. Wouldn’t you like that, my dove?’
I can’t think of anything worse. ‘More lies.’
‘What’s one more?’ She laughs.
What’s one more indeed? One more stone in the pocket as you wade into the river, Asher. Just one more.
Mother examines her nails – her brother’s nails – as if she’s sitting at a mirror, making herself ready for a lover. ‘I don’t suppose you know where Luned is, do you, darling girl? I did go looking for her last night in hopes of a chat, but she was nowhere to be found.’
I stare at my mother-uncle.
‘Only,’ she continues, ‘I’d hate to think you lost your temper and did something rash? Before I was ready to let her go…’
‘I have no idea where she is, Mother.’ I think my contempt burns away any trace of the lie. It’s not entirely a lie; I know where she’s going, I don’t know precisely where she is.
Her voice softens. ‘Everybody lies, Asher, don’t be so foolish. You’re no longer a child.’ She – he – wraps both hands around my head, cupping my face tightly. ‘This is what we’ve worked towards. Everything. Here. In my grasp.’
‘Yes,’ I mumble between compressed lips. ‘Everything you wanted.’
And lied for. My mother couldn’t have known what I’d become when I was small. No, but she saw soon enough. Saw that I was clever, that something strange ran through my veins. And she broke me so she could put me back together in the best way to serve her.
‘Aren’t you happy, Asher? You’ve made Mama so happy.’
‘Leave me be, Mother.’
I pull away and turn from her.
‘Oh, Asher?’
In spite of myself, I stop, arrested by a voice that’s both hers and not. I don’t look at her, though.
‘I don’t suppose you know where the god-hound has gone, my dove? Only I went looking for him yesterday, took a ride to the church at last, where he and I would meet. Where we made you. But it seems he’s disappeared. I was rather hoping to have a friendly catch-up with your father.’ There’s a tremor of rage in her tone, as if she knows. But she can’t. She can only suspect. ‘I don’t suppose you have any inkling?’
‘No, Mother. I do not. I am not responsible for the disappearance of everyone in the Tarn.’ Only some of them.
* * *
I’ve barely set foot inside when Leonora calls for me as I pass the library door.
She’s sitting at the desk, account books open in front of her. She says to her granddaughter beside her, ‘Go. We are done for the day.’
Albertine is quick to rise, quick to leave. She gives me a tremulous smile as we pass, and I touch her arm briefly. I imagine Leonora’s temper has been foul today. The woman in question raises her eyes to my face, returns them to the page of numbers.
‘Are you still unwell. You’re very pale.’
‘I am well enough.’
‘Good. Have you seen Luned?’
‘Not today.’ Honestly, this is the most in-demand the maid has ever been. They’ve never paid such attention to her presence or absence before; she would probably find bitter humour in it. For a moment I imagine us laughing over it.
‘Where could that child be?’
‘She was not in her room this morning when I checked. Perhaps I should have asked at the inn when I was in the village.’
‘Yes.’ She looks at me at last. ‘I don’t like waiting, Asher Todd.’
‘What do you need her for, Mrs Morwood?’
‘Fetching and carrying. Looking after those children when you’re running errands for me.’ Everyone is Leonora’s errand boy. ‘I do not like waiting.’
‘You do not have a large enough staff for that, I’m afraid,’ I say mildly.
‘I do not like waiting for anything, Asher Todd.’ And the look she gives me is to tell me she means something very specific.
‘You must be patient. There are ingredients I require and they are not easy to come by. The apothecary is gathering some – those he can be trusted not to gape at – and there are others I must gather myself.’ Then a thought comes to me and it’s brilliant and I can’t believe it’s only just appeared. ‘Things you do not want to take from the people of the Tarn because you do not want them hunting for what they will think has come to their village.’ I hold her gaze. ‘You do not want them turning their eyes towards this house and thinking that anything other than a normal family lives here.’
‘As if I care what anyone thinks.’ She makes a noise almost like a spit. You did once, I think, so much that you threw my mother out. Or perhaps that was as much hurt pride and disappointment, bitter revenge for all your fine plans being destroyed by Heloise’s carnal wishes. And you care that they see you ageing. You care that your beauty had almost fled.
Perhaps in response to my thoughts she touches her face, fingers exploring the skin that looks much better than it did, but not as good as she wants it to be. She wants her granddaughter’s youth, firm and pliable flesh, bright eyes, soft shiny hair. She wants another life; how interesting that she and her daughter have wanted the same thing.
‘Can you blame me for my impatience? I feel my years heavier each day. The mirror tells me how close I am to death, my bones weigh more than they should. Don’t make me wait too long, Asher Todd.’
‘The acquisition of certain items would cause my death if anyone were to find me out. And I imagine my burning or drowning or hanging would be counter-intuitive to your wishes.’ I shrug. ‘It will be done when I am able.’
She sits back in her chair, clenches her jaw, breathes heavily through her nostrils like a bull considering its next charge. ‘Asher Todd?’
‘Yes, Mrs Morwood?’
‘A word of warning: my son has only a brief attention span.’
‘Oh.’ It takes a moment before I get her meaning. ‘That’s not a consideration, Mrs Morwood. Your son or his whims.’
‘I saw you in the garden before, speaking with him rather intimately.’ Ha! If she’d only heard the conversation she’d know there’s greater matters to worry about. She waves a finger. ‘Eli Bligh is no proof against whatever Luther wants.’
‘Mrs Morwood. I have no doubt your son considers the wishes of women as irrelevant. But I have no interest in his desires. Looks can be deceiving and what you saw was not what you think. Now, I shall go and relieve Tib of the children.’
When I am not here…
When I’m not here, the threat to Albertine will be gone.
Leonora isn’t mad enough to try and do what she wants me to do.
When I am gone Albertine will be safe.
I will leave the night after tomorrow.
* * *
Eli is warm and solid beside me. I roll into him, trying to get closer still, to meld with him as if our skins and bones and flesh might become one, something stronger and stranger than the world can break apart. The only stable thing I’ve known in such a long time. Ever.
Outside the window, the moon is full. We’re both awake. He says, ‘It’s a wolf wife’s moon.’
‘When desperate women seek husbands among the four-legged? Waiting by a pond at midnight?’
He laughs softly into my hair. ‘Some of them. Not necessarily all desperate but seeking different qualities in a mate. Women whose husbands understand that though they roam, they will return.’
‘Would you leave?’ I blurt it out before my brain can even consider not saying it.
‘What?’
‘Would you leave Morwood? Ever?’
‘Why would I?’ He looks down at me. ‘I’m not saying no, but what’s my good reason?’
If I asked you.
But I can’t say that. Can’t risk that. It would be too hard to hear no.
‘Just if. Just wondering,’ I finish weakly, trying to roll away, suddenly feeling stiff and lonely. He doesn’t let me go, his long arms tighten around me, but I’m no longer as warm as I was, knowing I’ll leave him behind.