It was time for the television crew to say goodbye to Treweham. Len had made arrangements to return, as he planned to film the Straw Man Festival. He half thought Marcus would be around too, judging by the way he was with Finula. It was the only time he’d witnessed Marcus fully relaxed and he was pleased for him.
Libby was eager to get back home. She, too, was looking forward to Christmas with her family, but was under no illusion how hard she would have to work, once the festivities were over. Marcus was a notorious slave driver, expecting all the team to show as much dedication as he did. Whilst she enjoyed working with Marcus, she sometimes found him too intense and longed for him to lighten up a little. Libby also noted the difference in Marcus when he was chatting easily with Dermot, and especially Finula. The chemistry between them was evident for all to see and she wished Marcus every happiness; he deserved it.
Viola had been unusually withdrawn for a few days now. She was anxious to leave Treweham, but for very different reasons. Not particularly relishing the prospect of a Christmas with her parents, she had booked to go away – far from anybody she knew. For the second time in her life, she felt an overwhelming urge to flee and start again. But, realistically, could she do that? After all the attempts she’d made to reinvent herself, Vera had returned, with a vengeance, bringing with her the suspended sentence and that all-consuming threat of imprisonment. The very thought made Viola numb. A cold, blind panic spread through her when considering the consequences of her actions. Yet it wasn’t enough to make her stop. If there had been some way of snaring Tobias Cavendish-Blake, Viola would have gone for it, without a doubt. It was paradoxical that the very subject of her obsession had also been her downfall. Hating Tobias, yet still finding him dangerously attractive, was an odd mix of emotions, yet so typical of the complex character Viola was. Any observer looking objectively would instantly recognise she clearly needed some kind of help; that her twisted mind needed straightening out. Perhaps more alarming would be discovering what had initially triggered Viola’s violence. Why did she go to the lengths she did without any empathy? What drove her to be so fixated? In fact, if she was honest, Viola sometimes frightened herself, and she was petrified of the repercussions from deleting Tobias’ interview. It was about to kick off, big time, and she wanted to be out of the way when it did. So, it was time to regroup. Time to take stock.
She had chosen to hide away on a tiny island off the coast of Scotland. It would be just her, the roaring sea and the old crofter’s cottage. Apparently, the only neighbours would be the monks from the monastery on the island. The irony wasn’t lost on Viola. Perhaps she could learn something from their simple existence and contemplate a more honest outlook on life.
Jamie was reluctant to leave The Templar, for leaving Treweham meant leaving Sebastian. He had developed real feelings for him, not the schoolboy crush he’d initially had, but genuine affection for a person he was getting to know more and more. He hoped Sebastian felt the same. Jamie had been supportive of Sebastian, which had meant a lot to him. But was that it? Was Jamie only going to be a good friend, offering moral support at a time when he most needed it? Or, could he possibly mean more? Jamie understood Sebastian had been hurt in the past, but wasn’t everyone at some stage in their lives? And now he had been diagnosed with MS; surely he, Jamie, being the only person to know this meant something. There were so many questions he wanted answers to, but didn’t want to seem pushy or needy and frighten Sebastian off. Then again, he deserved some clarity on the relationship.
With a heavy heart, Jamie packed his case and made his way downstairs. Libby and Len were checking out and Viola had gone first thing that morning. After saying his goodbyes, he wheeled his hefty case through the doors and into the car park. He opened his car boot and was nearly knocked into it by a force from behind.
‘What the…?’ A black Labrador jumped up at him.
‘Zac! Here, boy!’ Sebastian called, laughing at Jamie, who had been practically pushed into the back of his car. Turning round, Jamie saw Sebastian making his way towards him. His heart hammered, seeing him in his Barbour jacket, jeans and Wellington boots, very much the country squire. ‘Sorry about that.’ He took hold of Zac’s collar and put his lead on. Smiling up at him he asked, ‘So, you’re off then?’
‘Yep. Time to go.’ Jamie’s throat dried up. He couldn’t say another word for fear of showing emotion. Sebastian stared into those smoky-grey eyes that he had grown so accustomed to. The thought of never gazing into them again gripped him with panic.
‘Any plans for Christmas?’
‘Er… not really. Probably go to my mum and dad’s.’ There was a pregnant pause.
‘Stay.’ Sebastian was still staring. ‘At Treweham Hall, as my guest.’
Jamie was floored. It took a moment for the invitation to sink in. Then a warm, blissful wave of happiness washed over him.
‘Yes please, I… I’d like that very much.’