Unhinged

by Amanda Deed

‘That he is enamoured of you?’

  ‘I am not admitting anything. He forced me to come here!’ Serena finished the sentence he’d cut off earlier.

  A blank stare replaced the bitter expression he wore seconds earlier. ‘Forced?’

  She hissed a frustrated sigh. ‘My father presumed to help himself to shelter and food from the dining table one day when the weather was poor. Papa then dared to pocket one of Mr King’s miniature roses when your uncle found him. He threatened to have Papa incarcerated, and I was left with no choice but offer to work off his debt, lest my sisters and I starve. And thus, you find me.’

  Weakened by the vehemence of her outburst, Serena slumped onto the damp grass, heedless of the mud that might seep through her dress. She watched as thoughts and emotions flashed across Mr Simon’s face.

  ‘Even if that is true, you cannot deny you have bewitched him.’

  ‘I beg pardon?’ Serena gazed up at him in disbelief.

  ‘Once you saw how vulnerable Uncle Eddie was, you resolved to turn his head. You only want his money. Confess. The same thieving blood that runs through your father’s veins, flows through yours.’

  From where did this absurd, twisted, poison stem? ‘How dare you insult me, sir? How dare you?’ Heat burned in her face and neck as she stood to look him in the eye, rigid with anger.

  ‘I dare because someone has to tell you what you are.’ Mr Simon stepped closer, stretching to his full height. A device to intimidate, no doubt, even though he smelled strongly of clay.

  ‘And what am I?’ Serena’s eyes narrowed to slits, and she clenched her fists around the folds of her dress.

  Mr Simon leaned in close and lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper. ‘A manipulative, scheming, thieving witch.’

  The shock of his words sucked the air from her lungs. No one, ever, had spoken to her thus. It stung, more than she thought possible. They had never been on friendly terms after all. ‘I cannot conceive of why you paint me so low. My motives are innocent. I was here against my will from the beginning and I resent that you make it otherwise. Never have I met a more callous, unfeeling young man. I only pray God will have mercy on you.’

  Serena turned to walk away, deflated, but faced him again when another notion struck her. ‘You know, I do not even understand why Mr King always speaks so highly of you. You obviously fooled him well.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘What do you mean, “pardon”?’

  ‘What ... what did Eddie say about me?’

  Serena released an impatient breath. ‘Only that you were clever and talented and a loyal nephew. The loyal part I suppose I can understand, but ...’

  This time Mr Simon sank to the grass, the fight gone out of him. ‘Uncle Eddie is my hero. I’ve only ever aspired to emulate him. He’s smart. And fervent about, well, about everything. He’s been granted good looks, and he’s so, so talented. I’ve always tried to match him, making things with wood, you know? I’ve tried to be the champion when he needs help. His approval is all I ever wanted.’ His voice grew husky and his eyes became distant in reflection.

  Mr Simon’s gaze focused again and landed on her, hardening. ‘But then you came along and suddenly, you are all he talks about, thinks about, and does anything for. It’s like the rest of us no longer exist.’

  Realisation washed over Serena. ‘You’re jealous.’

  ‘Jealous?’ He seemed just as shocked. ‘Yes, I suppose I am, and why shouldn’t I be? I’m his flesh and blood and you are just an imposition in our home, even if you are more beautiful than any woman we’ve laid eyes on.’

  Serena pressed a hand over her mouth in surprise. Did her ears deceive her? Mr Simon considered her beautiful? He was not just jealous of his uncle, but jealous over her as well? Mr Simon’s face drained of colour. Clearly, he hadn’t meant to blurt that out. It ruined his show of defensiveness. But this admission made sense. It made sense of everything in his behaviour. Uncle Eddie had everything Mr Simon wanted, and he couldn’t even get an acknowledgment.

  Amusement threatened to overtake Serena’s offended senses, and she kept her fingers over her mouth to hide the smile. ‘Well, you really need not be jealous of me, Mr Simon. Please believe me when I tell you I never intended for things to get so out of hand. I am as puzzled by Mr King’s interest in me as you are. And I sincerely did not come here to cause any trouble. May we please call a truce?’ She thrust out a hand, hoping he wouldn’t leave it there, hanging in mid-air.

  He grunted after a long moment. ‘Very well.’ He shook with her, albeit reluctantly, leaving her hand smudged with clay, as if she’d been the one weeding.

  Once again, Serena turned to leave but had second thoughts. Perhaps she might put this fragile truce to the test.

  ‘Tell me truthfully, was Mr King really more sound before I arrived?’

  Mr Simon shrugged, pulling a blade of grass and squinting up at her. ‘Only for a time. He’s had these episodes previously.’

  ‘Has it always been triggered by a girl?’

  Another shrug. ‘By a girl? No. There seems no particular reason for it. But Mother has tried her hardest to keep him sensible, lest people learn of it.’

  Serena tapped a finger on her chin. ‘I wonder. Do you believe in this curse of which he speaks?’ She joined him on the lawn.

  ‘There is no curse.’

  ‘You don’t believe him, or you know this for certain?’

  ‘He’s twisted the truth in his mind over time.’

  ‘So, something did happen then?’

  ‘Uncle Eddie met a priest of some sort, not sure what church, and spent time with him. The priest told him he was too proud and needed to “lean not on his own understanding.” The priest warned Uncle Eddie, if I remember correctly, that pride comes before a fall. The priest invited Uncle Eddie to surrender to God’s will, but knowing my uncle, I’m guessing he refused.’

  ‘Did the priest mention King Nebuchadnezzar?’

  ‘King who? No, I’ve never heard of him.’

  ‘King Nebuchadnezzar was a king in the Bible who went insane after he boasted his own glory and refused to acknowledge God. I read the Scriptures over and over this morning after Mr King told me of the story.’

  Mr Simon’s face became grave. ‘I see. Uncle Eddie has read many religious texts over the years. It makes sense he would know of it. But I do not think he learned the story from the priest.’

  Serena reached out a hand and touched him on the forearm, feeling specks of dirt on his sleeve. ‘You have helped me very much, Mr Simon. Who could imagine we would find accord? Perhaps we might even be friends?’

  He looked at her with solemn eyes and nodded. ‘What shall we do about Uncle Eddie?’

  ‘I’m uncertain, but you can trust me in this—I am determined to do what I can to help. I have grown to admire your uncle. Very much.’

  Serena, feeling unready to return to the house, walked instead to the small bay at the edge of the property. Though the air still held a chill, the wind had died down a little. The coolness refreshed her. Perhaps it would cleanse her mind of all the doubt and confusion. She stood on the shore and gazed at the lapping waves. Funny how the one person whom she thought was her greatest opposition, might in fact turn out to be her greatest ally. Once Mr Simon got past his own emotion, he’d been open and honest, and she now had a clearer picture of the truth than she had in all these weeks.

  Now, how to proceed with that truth?

  Was there a way to convince Edward he was not cursed? If the Jones family failed to make him see reason, what made her assume she would succeed? They all seemed to believe she impacted Edward, that she held an influence over him.

  Serena didn’t want to let them down. They all suffered grief for their dear Edward. They fought hard for his protection. And now they were placing their hope in her. The pressure was great. Perhaps too grea
t. There was no guarantee of success. Especially when she could not fathom how to go ahead. After all, she had no training or experience in these matters.

  A seagull hovered over the waves, using the stiff breeze to keep itself suspended above the water, watching for small fish to swim near the surface. How did these birds know where to find food? They had a built-in instinct for it. The way God created them.

  And God created her with inbuilt instincts, too. What did those tell her? With a sigh, she acknowledged she was at a complete loss. As if she were the little fish in the big wide ocean, with a huge bird hovering over to snap her up for lunch. Out of her depth. Alone. Undone.

  The only place she could turn was the very creator who designed her path and led her here to Aleron in the first place. It didn’t matter that it was through the vehicle of Papa’s indiscretion.

  For years she had been quietly angry at her father and sisters, trying not to blame them for her predicament. She’d convinced herself that they needed her, that they couldn’t survive without her. But in truth, they survived more than capably, and Providence was their supplier, not her.

  And then, when she came to Aleron and grew closer to Edward, Serena had wondered at fate. But it was not fate or Papa’s doing that brought her here. God was the director of paths and designer of futures. He must have a hand in it, and therefore, He must have an answer. Edward’s family believed she had the power to save him and bring healing, but only God provided the healing and answers.

  Serena needed to stop trying to help Edward herself, and instead get on her knees and ask for help; open the Bible more and seek his Word. She exhaled a deep breath of decision and turned to head back to do exactly that.

  As she lifted her eyes to the trees that lined the beach, she stopped in her tracks. Edward stood in the shadows of a mighty gum, watching. Only pausing momentarily, Serena straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin, determined to be cheerful.

  ‘Edward.’ She stretched out both hands to him in an open greeting. ‘What brings you here?’

  He did not respond, but continued to look at her, face sullen and listless.

  Awkward, she rubbed her hands against her thighs and turned a full circle to take in the view once more. The wind made the leaves rustle and hiss as it blew them about. ‘The cold air is invigorating, don’t you agree?’

  His chest rose and fell as a deep sigh escaped him. ‘Perhaps I shall go for a swim.’

  Serena feigned a titter, although his demeanour was not in the least funny. ‘No, Edward. It’s far too cold in the water. You’ll catch your death.’

  ‘As if you care.’ The flat statement hit her as though he had slapped her, and his eyes narrowed.

  ‘Of—of course I care. Why else should I advise you against swimming?’

  His eyes narrowed even further. ‘Humph.’ He brushed past her and headed for the water.

  ‘No, Edward. Please.’ She ran after him, her heart a lump in her throat.

  ‘Why?’ He spun around, eyes flashing. ‘Why not, Serena?’

  ‘Like I said, it’s too cold.’ The words stammered from her lips. He was frightening her now. ‘And you are fully clothed. The cold and water will weigh you down. You’ll drown.’

  ‘So?’ He glared at her. ‘Wouldn’t that be better for everyone?’ He continued toward the water’s edge.

  ‘No! Stop!’ She lunged at him and grabbed his sleeve to hold him back. ‘It would not be better.’

  ‘Yes, it would.’ Edward swivelled and gripped her by the shoulders. Gripped her hard enough she winced. She could feel where each of his fingers dug into her skin. ‘I’m cursed! Don’t you see it, Serena? I’m cursed.’

  ‘You are not cursed, Edward. You think you are, but you’re not.’ God in heaven, how could she make him see?

  His lip curled in disgust and he hissed. ‘No, that’s right. It’s not a curse. It’s a sickness. Edward is a lunatic. An unhinged madman. That’s how you all consider me, isn’t it?’ He thrust her away from him and she stumbled, almost falling to the sand.

  ‘No! Edward. Please.’ Sobs came up from deep within, choking her with grief.

  ‘I’ll never be good enough for you. Poor Eddie. He’s queer in the attic. That’s all you’ll ever see.’

  ‘No.’ Serena shook her head, crying. ‘We love you.’

  ‘We love you.’ He mimicked, his eyes glazed, mouth twisted in mockery. ‘To hell with all of you!’

  His roar shook her to the core, and she trembled as he backed away, his eyes wild with rage, arms flinging out.

  ‘I’m sick to death of your coddling and false compassion. Leave me alone. Get out of my house. I never want to see you again.’

  Sobbing, shaking, terrified of what Edward was becoming, Serena was unable to move. Please, God, help me.

  ‘Go!’

  If she obeyed, if she walked away, what would he do? Would he try to drown himself? There was no way to know. He was out of his mind.

  ‘Go!’

  His screams were only increasing in intensity. His torment felt like a knife in her stomach. How he suffered. God please look after Edward. Keep him safe. He is in your hands now.

  Slowly, Serena turned around and walked off the sand into the trees, where she lifted her skirts and ran. Ran from Edward. Ran for help. Ran until she no longer heard his wild yelling behind her. She ran until she could no longer breathe, exertion mixed with grief choking her at every step, the taste of salty tears on her tongue. Until she was beyond the gates of Aleron and safely on her way home.

  27

  Wednesday, 8th June, 1842

  There is no reason to go on. I drove her away. Once I started, I could not stop myself. It is as if I have become another man. Not even that. A beast.

  Xavier found me asleep on the sand. A few brief moments of respite from this eternal torture. A torment which only increased once I realised what I had done.

  I’ve ruined everything.

  Judith, Xavier, Simon, all look at me with such dull eyes. They must hate me. I have disappointed them again. More than ever this time.

  I am worthless.

  There is no point to my existence in this world.

  All I do is hurt people.

  And disappoint them.

  And burden them.

  They would be better off without me. Without my curse.

  28

  ‘Thank goodness you came so quickly.’ Julianne threw open the door to greet Serena with wide eyes.

  Puzzled, Serena arched a brow. ‘You were expecting me?’

  ‘We sent for you.’ A small frown creased her forehead. ‘Only an hour or so ago.’

  Awareness of the worry in her sister’s eyes struck her with anxiety. ‘Why did you send for me? I must have missed your courier. What has happened?’

  ‘It’s Papa. He ... he collapsed.’ Julianne’s bottom lip trembled. ‘The doctor says he is gravely ill.’

  Serena searched her face for any sign of doubt. ‘Take me to him.’

  ‘The fever is too high.’ Julianne filled her in as Serena rushed to Papa’s room. ‘We don’t know what to do.’ Her voice cracked on the last few words as the truth of her admission assaulted her. ‘What shall we do, Serena? How will we go on without him?’

  Serena whirled on her sister and gripped her arm. ‘Papa will not die, Julianne. Go and heat the kettle on the stove and prepare tea for us. Settle yourself.’

  With a deep, shaky breath, Julianne nodded and headed to the kitchen, wiping at her tear-stained face.

  Serena stood outside the sickroom for a moment to compose herself. Her nerves fluttered, and a lump had grown in her throat. Papa’s condition couldn’t be as serious as that, surely. She wiped her damp hands on her skirt and pushed the door open.

  An atmosphere of fear hung in the bedroom. Rachel sat beside the bed, holding Papa’s h
and, without expression, shadows beneath her eyes. How long since she had slept or eaten? Serena’s eyes shifted to the shape of her father lying still, his skin pale as death, and his breath shallow and raspy.

  ‘Oh, Papa.’ Serena leaned over the bed and brushed a hand over his head. It was so hot. And dry. She lifted her eyes to her sister. ‘How long has he been sick?’

  Rachel shrugged, miserable. ‘A few days. But he is much worse today.’

  ‘Julianne mentioned that the doctor has been. What did he say?’

  ‘Only that we should do our best to keep him cool, and that he’d come back and check on Papa tomorrow.’ Rachel’s face crumpled. ‘His face was so grim, Serena, I don’t think he held much hope for Papa.’

  ‘Nonsense.’ The word came out harsher than intended, but she needed to halt the running fear her sisters were allowing. Serena looked Rachel in the eye. ‘You are tired and worrying too much. I want you to refresh yourself. Find nourishment, even if all you manage is a piece of fruit or a slice of bread. We will be of no help to Papa if we starve and exhaust ourselves. I’ll stay here until you return.’

  Rachel’s eyes widened, but she did not argue. With a deep sigh, she let go of Papa’s hand and rose from her position. ‘Please call me if there are any changes.’

  ‘Of course, my love.’ That went without saying.

  Once her sister left the room, Serena reached to collect a cloth from the bowl of water next to the bed. Wringing it out, she dabbed at her father’s brow. Why did she have to leave from one heart-breaking environment only to come home to another? No, that was just selfish thinking. Serena pushed the thought deep down. Her focus needed to be on her family now. Edward had cast her out. There was no choice but to leave his care with his family, and of course, with God.

  And so, the hours crept by, the three sisters rotating turns to eat and rest. Although, Serena rarely left the bedroom for long. Papa was her responsibility. Instead, she often dozed while sitting in the chair by his bed, or spent time praying for him and for Edward. It was too much for her sisters to bear, seeing Papa thrashing or mumbling in delirium. Often it sent them into fits of tears and so Serena would send them away.