by Bea Paige
“Okay, but what’s that got to do with this note?”
“When Erik was seventeen, Ms Hadley took Erik back to Orkney for a holiday. Something happened to him there, Rose. Something bad. It’s part of the reason he’s so unwell.”
“But I thought his illness was caused by his PTSD?”
“It is. But over the past couple of years Erik has been experiencing other flashbacks not relating to his time in the army. Every time he gets close to telling us about what happens, he shuts down. Some of his worst episodes have been on the back of those flashbacks. All we know is that something happened back in Orkney during that summer. When he’s been overwhelmed by his flashback, he always repeats the same thing…”
“Out beyond wrongdoings and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there,” Anton says from his spot by the window. “He would never go back there unless he was forced to. He fucking hates that place.”
“So what’s your father got to do with this?” I ask.
“Erik has always been his favourite. If Ms Hadley asked for his help, then he wouldn’t hesitate. I daresay my father arranged this whole thing. Piss me off, get me out of the way so they could take Erik,” Anton says bitterly.
“But he’s a grown fucking man. He could’ve refused,” I say, exasperated.
“Not if she’s got something over him,” Ivan says, quietly. “Ms Hadley has always kept quiet about that time. Anton and I have both questioned her, but she’s always claimed ignorance. The question is, why now? Why take him back now?”
“I know why,” I say quietly. “It’s because of me. She’s threatened by me.”
“Jesus Christ,” Ivan exclaims. “She’s always been overprotective, but to go to this extreme…?”
It doesn’t seem the right time to remind them that we are all standing by a huge fucking glass cage, if that isn’t classed as ‘extreme’, I don’t know what is. A mother who really gives a shit about her son would never have encouraged such a monstrous idea. I know what Erik had said, that he felt safe in this glass cage. But it’s still a cage. Trapped inside, is no life for anyone, regardless as to whether he holds the key or not.
“No, this isn’t her being overprotective. If he’s as disturbed by that place as you say he is, why the hell would his own mother take him back there? Don’t you see, there’s something fundamentally wrong with Ms Hadley. The way she is with you all… it isn’t normal. I’ve known twisted and dangerous people and Ms Hadley is as fucked up as they come. So, my question to you both is, what are we going to do about Erik?”
Anton and Ivan regard each other. They both seem to come to the same conclusion at once.
“Grab your bags, Anton. Looks like we’re going on a trip,” Ivan says.
“Too fucking right,” he retorts, striding over to us both. He grasps my hand. “Stay here. We’ll sort this.”
“No fucking chance. There’s no way you’re going without me. I’m coming. This is about me, as much as it’s about Erik. I’m not sitting this out! Besides Ms Hadley and I have unfinished business.”
“I thought you might say something like that,” Anton says, a dark smile glittering in his eyes.
I tip my head to the side, watching them both. “What?”
“Anton was right, there’s no doubt in my mind. You are most definitely the one,” Ivan says taking my hand in his, he squeezes it tightly. “Come on then, Rose. Let’s bring Erik home.”
Walking from the room, I take one last look at the glass monstrosity behind us, vowing that when we return, I’ll find a way to free Erik from this prison.
Just like I’ve freed Anton and Ivan from theirs.
Epilogue
Erik
It’s been almost twenty years since I returned to Kirkwell, Orkney. The island where our house still sits is much the same as it was back then. There were even some of the same faces watching us as we drove through the town towards home earlier.
Home…
I’ve never considered this place my home. Not as a child and not as an adult. But my mother has always come back here. Every year she’s returned to the empty rooms of this large farm house, and I was okay with that so long as she never expected me to return with her.
I never thought I’d set foot on this island ever again.
But here I am, sitting in my old bedroom staring out onto the beach a few hundred feet from our front door.
The sea is rough, the white froth of the waves crashing against the shore. It’s cold. I can feel the freezing air through the gaps around the sash window. The thick argyle jumper I’m wearing doesn’t protect me from the chill. No amount of warmth or layers of clothes will, because this is the kind of bone-deep chill a person gets when the memories from the past are about to unleash upon them.
And I’ve a thousand memories waiting to haunt me now. They linger just beyond the grips of reality.
The only reprieve I get is when I can read. Losing myself in books is the only way to keep those memories at bay. Exercise helps too.
And thoughts of Rose…
Rose.
How can she have such a profound effect on me?
I’m here because of her. I left for her.
Because she’s only safe when there’s a thousand miles between us.
I wanted to stay. I wanted to try. She saved Ivan from himself, she’s done the impossible with Anton too. But me? I can’t risk her life. I won’t do that.
“I’d love to hear you play a full piece one day, if that’s not too much to ask?”
She’d been so sincere that first time we’d met. I’d been drawn to her even then, even when I felt like my heart would rip out of my chest because it was beating so hard in fear. Then when she’d danced… my god. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful. She’d risked her life then to save Ivan and Anton’s. I’d been in a blind panic, the memories crashing against me thick and fast, and somehow she’d known what to do.
When she danced I didn’t see a woman with the capacity to hurt me, I saw someone who was free. She’s all I’ve ever thought about since. Rose has been risking everything for Ivan and Anton since, including her own self-preservation it would seem. My long discussions with them both have indicated as much.
On the other side of the room is my violin, a deep ache in my chest forms. I want so much to play for her. I want to do that for Rose. But I can’t. I’ll never be able to play again.
Playing might be my salvation, but it’s also my downfall. I can’t experience the joy of playing without the misery of my memories.
Memories that are desperately trying to haunt me now. Shaking my head, I push away the piece of music that’s trying to seep into my head. Not now, I can’t lose my shit now.
I stumble towards my bed and the suitcase open on top of it. Buried beneath the clothes are two pieces of paper. I pull them out, placing them side by side.
It’s Rose…
In the early hours of this morning, Anton brought me the drawing. He’d left the sleeping Rose to bring me this gift, knowing that I would treasure it. He asked me to take care of it. To keep it safe. I promised him that I would.
I look at it now. It’s breathtaking.
She’s breathtaking. He’s captured her perfectly, down to every last detail. I’m glad my brothers have her. They’ll need her now more than ever before.
Because I won’t survive here.
I’ve accepted my fate. I always knew that one day my past would catch up with me.
Now that time has come. But at least I have this image of her to comfort me.
“Rose,” I whisper, tracing my finger over the drawing. “So beautiful…”
Flipping the two halves over, I read the beautiful cursive of Anton’s handwriting.
Rose is the delicate scent of an intoxicating flower and the thorny shards of a heart broken by a dark past. Rose is the blooming of cheeks in her rage, and the sharp tongue of a woman who isn’t afraid to speak the truth. Rose is the arch of a foot encased in silk, and the softnes
s of curves I want to fold myself in. Rose is innocence lost and the bright expanse of an endless ocean.
Rose is strength brought alive in the pitch black of night.
Rose is every damn colour of the rainbow.
Rose is hope.
Rose is my saviour. She’s the one…
I hold onto her picture daring to hope that somehow, some way, she might just be my saviour too.
THE END
Authors Note
Well, here we are readers! I hope you survived Strokes.
As you may have noticed, this was predominantly Anton’s story, but as I wrote it, it became so much of Rose’s story too. Somehow, together, they both began to heal in the darkness that before had only hurt them.
This was absolutely key to the story.
Black, was one of the most intense sections I’ve ever written after Cerulean Blue. Both had me crying the whole way through. In fact, the whole book was intense. I had to watch lots of happy Rom Coms during the writing of it!
Some of you may feel that Strokes doesn’t have as satisfying ‘happy ever after’ ending as Steps did. Anton isn’t cured of his demon like Ivan, but Rose has helped him find a way to live a happier life with it. Over the course of the next two books (particularly Symphony – the final book) they will get their happy ever after, at least one that works for them all. I promise!
Anton’s story was difficult because he will never get what he wants – the ability to see in colour, but he finds a way to live, to just be, with Rose. There is no magic wand for some medical conditions. I wanted this to be realistic. Life is cruel.
You might have found some of Rose’s actions difficult. But remember, she’s broken too. In some ways so much more than the men of Browlace Manor. I hope you trust me to know the best for these characters. They will find a way together.
Next up is Strings. Be prepared for more darkness, more heartache, more danger and despair, but also strength, courage and love. Expect Erik’s story to tear your heart out. I hope I survive writing it!
As always, thank you so very much for your love and support, without you all, none of this would be possible.
Some of you may or may not know that I write to music, always. This time I’ve put together a playlist. I will keep adding to this as I continue to write, but for now it can be found on my website in the Finding Their Muse section:
https://www.beapaige.co.uk/
If you want to keep up to date with all my releases you might want to sign up to my newsletter here:
https://www.beapaige.co.uk/get-in-touch.html
Much love, Bea xxx