| |
Father was out of bed. It was the first time I had seen him standing on his own two feet since he had staggered through the trees into the garden. He stood, propped up by the window frame, staring out at the garden.
‘He’s sent a lackey,’ he said, not turning to look at me.
‘I know.’
‘He’ll kill me, Fleur. He’s mad. And he’ll kill me if he doesn’t get you back.’
‘Why does he want me?’
Father turned at this, and looked at me with an expression of disbelief.
‘What? What do you mean “why?” – you’re his wife. You belong to him.’
‘No. Why does he want me? Why did he ever want me? My looks disgust him, and I tried to kill him. I’m his niece. Why has he ever wanted me?’
‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Fleur. You’re overcomplicating it. It was because of his sister. I told you.’ Father shifted uneasily against the window frame and avoided my eye.
I crossed the room and stood beside him, reaching out, holding his arm firmly.
‘No. Tell me. If he thought you were responsible for killing Mother, he’d hold you to account for it. He’d want me in his care. That’s logical. But to marry me? To marry me and then treat me so... so cruelly. What about his first wife? What do you know of her?’
Father turned to me then, his mouth slack and his brow furrowed.
‘He married? I never – he never said. What- Who?’
‘She died, Father. She was a friend of this family.’ I gestured to the room around me. ‘Tristan was engaged to her, then he went to war and Gabriel married her. He wouldn’t let her see her family, Father, and she died.’
‘Why on earth would he – I never expected he would have married.’ Father just stared at me, mumbling his disbelief over and over again. I shook his arm and dipped my head to put myself in his eye line.
‘There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?’
Father sagged again, closing his eyes and contorting his face as though in pain. My heart lurched, but I stayed strong this time. There was something, and I deserved to know.
‘Tell me,’ I said.
Father opened his eyes to slits and stared down at his arm, where my hand still held it firmly.
‘It was... your mother. He loved her – not like a brother ought. Like I did. Or more, probably. More in the end.’ Father sagged still further, sliding down the wall until he sat on the floor, like a ragdoll dropped by a child.
‘That’s why we had to run. He didn’t object to me because I was a penniless academic. He objected to me because I wasn’t him. God, I never wanted any of this – why would I? I just thought she was beautiful. Then she used me to escape him.’
‘He... loved her? Like – like a husband? Oh my.’
I felt sick.
‘She came to me one night, just arrived unannounced at my lodgings with her bag packed and a letter from her mother, with a purse full of coins and a few bits of jewellery. Said she’d had enough of Gabriel and couldn’t take it anymore, and that we should run away together. I couldn’t believe my luck – that she, so beautiful, so far above me – that she would come to me, that she would see me as her salvation.
‘I jumped at the chance, and away we went. It was hell, Fleur. I hadn’t realised – I didn’t know what he was like, what he was capable of. He tracked us across the country, had people everywhere. By that time, you were coming along. So, I shaved my beard, cut my hair, and tried to look as different as I possibly could. Then we wrote to Mrs Raynor. Told her Rosie was dead, that you’d both died in the birth. So, we all went into hiding, but he’d just be looking for me, wouldn’t he? So, when he asked about a man on his own, nobody would think it, because we were a family.
‘But we never settled. You can’t live when you’re constantly looking over your shoulder. You can’t fall in love, you can’t let yourself love when you find out you’ve been used as some sort of scapegoat – when you gave up everything, and got nothing in return. But through it all, I did love her. I really, truly did. She didn’t die until a year or two later. I think it was a relief for her, really.’
I didn’t know what to say. Or rather, I did; a thousand things, each of which seemed more important than the last. In the end I settled for the one which seemed to sting the most.
‘You knew he had,’ I shuddered, ‘incestuous feelings for Mother. You knew that and you still allowed him to marry me?’
‘Oh, Fleur.’ Father rubbed his forehead with a weary hand. ‘You don’t understand. I knew you wouldn’t. I shielded you from it all. You were too young, you don’t know what he’s like.’
I stared at him, my grip on his arm tightening. I wanted to hurt him like he hurt me.
‘He would have killed me,’ Father gabbled on. ‘Or tortured. He threatened- you don’t know the things he said. It was that, or to marry you. He loved his sister. Loved her. How could I know he wouldn’t love you, too?’
I had to leave. I couldn’t stand to be with him in the same room for even a moment longer. I dropped his arm roughly and he shook slightly, swaying against the wall. I looked back as I passed through the doorway. He was gaunt, his cheeks sunken and his hair an unkempt, straggly mess. And I was glad.
I stormed back to my room, not really knowing where I wanted to go, only knowing that I wanted to keep moving, to burn off the anger and bitterness I felt. But that was the crux of it, I was trapped. I couldn’t leave the garden, probably ought not even leave the house on the chance I might be grabbed and bundled away.
Damien had been right. Damien had always been right. Gabriel must die.
I paced my room, constricted by the tight space, only pausing when I realised that every step I took set off another creak. Yet my secret identity was something else I must reassess in the face of today’s revelations. Would Edwina care? Would she ever have cared?
‘Alice?’
I whirled round to find Tristan standing in my doorway.
‘Are you alright?’
‘I thought you were in the garden,’ I said quickly, my mind racing, going over everything Father and I had said, trying to assess what he might have heard.
‘I was.’ Tristan smiled ruefully and brushed a few errant strands of hair from his eyes. ‘But the clouds came in. So, I thought I’d find you. See if you were... well.’
‘Yes, I’m fine.’
‘It’s just,’ he took a step further into my room and I watched him with wide, wary eyes. ‘You ran away, and I was worried.’
I had almost forgotten that had even happened.
‘No, I’m... I’m fine.’
‘I’m glad.’ Tristan smiled, and even though it was a bashful, shy sort of smile, it was dazzling. He was so good, and pure, and yet... ‘I was worried,’ he continued, ‘that I’d frightened you. I’d never want to hurt you, I hope you know that. It was telling you about Cass – I feel like I can talk to you – don’t you feel that?’
‘Well, I-’
‘But I shouldn’t have.’ He looked bashful, and bit his lip with perfectly even, white teeth. ‘And I shouldn’t have... lost control like that.’
I peered at Tristan curiously – if that was how he defined loss of control, by almost kissing someone – what a tame life he must lead. And yet, he had longed for the glory of war. What a strange creature he was.
‘You didn’t do anything,’ I said firmly. ‘It’s fine. I was just... distracted. Overset. That’s all.’
‘You’re sure?’ Tristan seemed to be disappointed. I liked that.
‘Oh yes.’
‘I heard, too – I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening, I swear.’ He took another step into the room, closing the gap between us to a metre, more or less.
‘What did you hear?’ I tried to sound light and unconcerned.
‘Just voices, no words.’ He hastened to reassure me, taking another small, shuffling step forward. I could touch him now, if I wanted. I didn’t know what I wanted, but I felt angry, and reckless. ‘It just sounded... heated, I think. So, I hoped you weren’t upset, or anything. With your father. And that you hadn’t remembered anything unpleasant.’
He was nervous. Stilted and shifty. Perhaps he was lying, perhaps this was a house full of liars, and he really had heard what Father and I had said.
‘It’s fine. Just difficult. You know, forgetting everything – it’s like losing your life. It’s like I don’t understand anything anymore.’
‘It must be frustrating.’
I nodded.
‘You know, if there’s anything I can do. If there’s anything you need, or want to talk about – I’m here. Mother and I – we both are.’
‘I appreciate that. And thank you. You’ve done so much for me already. Taking me in and everything.’
‘Least we could do. I still feel-’ Tristan stopped and ran an anxious hand through his hair, dislodging the queue so it fell to the floor. ‘I hate that I was responsible, you know, for Brutus hurting you. I should have controlled him better – then you’d never have lost your memory.’
I felt a pang of remorse there. I hadn’t expected him to feel it. I hadn’t given his feelings on that score much thought. Proof again of how unnatural I was. I hastened to reassure him.
‘If you hadn’t, I’d probably be dead. I’m grateful, Tristan, truly I am. Ideally, you’d have found me without Brutus knocking me down, but still.’
He laughed at that, and I closed the gap between us slightly, reaching out and taking one of his hands.
‘You don’t know how nice it’s been living here. Different from anything I’ve ever known, and you’ve both made me feel so welcome. I’ll remember these days for as long as I live.’
‘You make it sound like you’re leaving soon. Are you? Is that what you and your father- sorry. I shouldn’t ask. But you know, if you want to talk to me about anything, anything at all, you can.’
‘Thank you.’ I squeezed his hand, and he returned the pressure. ‘I don’t know when I’ll go – when we’ll go, but I don’t see how I can stay much longer.’
‘You can stay as long as you like! We can finish the picture and...’
‘I know. But I don’t know how much longer I can stay. I’m being terribly secretive, I’m sorry. I’m sure I can tell you soon, but just... not yet.’
I made to move away but he held my hand tightly, bending his head slightly as he spoke.
‘Tell me Alice, please, tell me you aren’t leaving because of me – because of what I did?’
And I supposed, in a way, that he was part of why I had to leave. But I said no.
‘Because if I’ve done anything, this afternoon, I just-’ He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t care, really. I just did what I wanted to for no other reason than that whatever he was and whatever he had done, Tristan was the most beautiful man I had ever seen. In a heartbeat, I kissed him. His head was bent, his eyes averted, so he didn’t really see me move until I was away again, having pressed my lips to the corner of his mouth for barely a moment.
‘Alice,’ he breathed.
I knew what else I must do now. Not to make it fair, but to make it right in my own mind.
‘Where’s Edwina? And Jane?’
His eyes widened briefly.
‘In the kitchen, I think. Dinner.’ He reached up to hold my shoulder, to pull me closer to him, I think, but I caught his hand before he could.
‘I’m going downstairs, Tristan. I...’
He pressed my hand to his lips, and kissed it. Warmth flooded down my arm, and I struggled not to flinch away.
‘Tristan,’ I spoke more firmly this time, and he looked up, confused, like a lost child. ‘Please, I’m going downstairs. Promise me you won’t follow me.’
‘Are you leaving?’
I shook my head.
‘I’ll see you at dinner. I swear.’
He still looked confused by the turn of events, and I couldn’t blame him, but he let me go. He dropped my hand unwillingly, but nonetheless stepped back and let me leave the room ahead of him. He was a good man, really. Not the best of men, but so much more honourable than my father or husband. Of that I was convinced.
I made my way down the stairs slowly, listening out for Edwina and Jane clattering about in the kitchen, trying to be quiet so they didn’t hear me, and giving Tristan time to make his way to his studio, albeit with many a backward glance in my direction.
I was in luck. I could hear the babble of voices from the kitchen, and it was the work of a moment to cross the sitting room, pull back the tapestry and find the little knot to open the panel.
‘Hello?’ All was quiet as I climbed the ladder in the gloom, and I wondered if he’d left. A chill stole over me as I imagined him running into Peregrine, or worse, Gabriel. But as I reached the top level and peered into the shadows, I saw Damien sitting in that dusty corner, staring at me without expression.
‘Hello,’ I tried again, and he blinked, but that was it. ‘I’m sorry I left. That I ran, and... that I didn’t understand.’
He shrugged, and I took some tentative steps towards him.
‘I’ve thought about it and, I think... I’ve remembered some things. I said I’d lost my memory and I thought I was lying, but really, there were things that got lost in all that happened. In all the guilt and the fear at what I’d done, when I thought I’d killed him, I forgot some of the things that had happened on the way. Maybe I deliberately forgot them to make it easier, but I don’t know.
‘I still don’t understand half of it, but I’ve spoken to Father and... I’m angry. And I’m frightened of Gabriel, but most of all I don’t want him to get away with what he did. To my mother, to your sister, and to me.’
‘What did you remember?’ Damien asked, as I sank down to the rugs beside him. He was so solid, and even sitting down, hunched in the dark, he radiated strength. He seemed tense though, and I feared that if I made one wrong move or said one thoughtless word, something in him would snap.
‘I’d rather not tell you. Not now, anyway. Maybe after.’
‘After?’
I reached out and squeezed his hand.
‘After this is over. However it ends. Maybe.’
Damien looked up and regarded me with suspicion.
‘I thought I’d disgusted you,’ he said quietly. ‘I didn’t mean to speak to you like that.’ Like him was the implication, and it sat between us, unspoken in the dark. ‘I think maybe, though, you understand. I’ve done things, many things I’m not proud of. Things I’d rather forget. I’ve been at war, and you see the good behind what you’re doing, and you do your best for your country, but...’
He trailed off, and I shuffled closer to him, never relinquishing my grip on his hand.
‘You have to do things,’ he continued eventually, ‘that you can’t make sense of. I never wanted to kill anyone. I joined up for the same reasons Tristan did, although I never said it. It was for glory, and promotion. There’s no time like a war for making a career!’ Damien laughed bitterly.
‘But I didn’t think about what it’s actually like on those boats, and what I’d have to do to other human beings. What other human beings would do to me, to my friends, to anyone. And we won, and there’s glory, but I did it by becoming someone I never wanted to. But I had to. And I did all that, and I came home to glorious England, and there’s someone here, who’s been doing horrible things to the people I care about. So, I thought, that’s the least I could do, to make things right here, too. And I will, you know.’
He turned to face me now, his eyes bright and burning even in the darkness.
‘I meant what I said. I’m not proud of who I am, but I can’t let him get away with what he did to Cass. The people in France – that we had to try and kill, and that had to try and kill us – they were just boys, and we were all just doing our job. But here, in my own damned country, Raynor was doing what he did to my sister. And then you. I was too late, I’m so sorry, Fleur. I’m so sorry you had to do it alone.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ I whispered, wrapping my free arm around his front and holding him close to me. ‘But we’ll make it right.’
He let me hold him for a little while. He was warm, and I could smell dust and sweat on his skin, but it was nice. It was comforting and I realised it was the closest I had been to a man since Gabriel, and I hadn’t flinched at all. In fact, aside from Gabriel, and very rare occasions with my father, this was the first man I had ever been this close to. Tristan didn’t count. Tristan didn’t even seem like a real person.
I felt a hot, embarrassed flush steal over my body, but when I began to slowly lean away, Damien caught my arm and held me closer. And like with Tristan, one of the most wonderful things was that I knew, without a doubt, that if I wanted to move away, he’d let me go.
‘What did he do to your mother?’
‘Hmm?’ His sudden question startled me.
‘Your mother. You said you didn’t want Raynor to get away with what he did to your mother. What did he do? Although of course-’ Damien added hurriedly, ‘you don’t have to tell me.’
‘He was in love with her, apparently.’
Damien’s silence spoke volumes.
There was a click, suddenly, and I heard the little panel swing open. I looked at Damien, so close but now in company, so far away, and he shrugged. I managed to disentangle our arms and move away to a slightly more respectable distance before Edwina’s head popped up into view.
‘Ah, there you are. Dinner’s ready, dear. And perhaps you’d better come down too, Damien.’