“Sure, that sounds great.”
“Now it’s time to celebrate,” Violet said with forced cheer. She slid out of the booth, returning a moment later with three huge slices of chocolate cake, and the waiter on her heels bringing another pot of tea for Violet and Mike, and a large coffee for Beth.
“What are we celebrating?” she asked, as she stared at the flickering candles on the cake wedges.
“You, silly,” Mike laughed. “We’re both so proud of you, that you’ve decided to follow your heart, and we think you’ll be an incredible teacher. So, happy day one for tomorrow!”
Sadness crossed his face – no doubt realising as he’d spoken that there was no more “we” between him and Violet. But with an effort he shook it off and raised his cup. “To you Beth. Have the best time tomorrow. I know you’ll be fantastic.”
Her heart hurt, that this beautiful, kind, compassionate man considered her a friend. Even if it never went any further between them, she would be content. Just knowing him, knowing that he existed in the world, made her happy, and hopeful. Although she’d be even happier if they were dating.
Violet echoed his well-wishing sentiments, and the three of them enthusiastically ate every crumb of their sweet treats, slurped down their hot drinks, and chatted like nothing had happened to change the dynamics of their group.
But finally Mike made his excuses and headed home, and Beth turned to Violet, curiosity burning her up. “Are you okay?”
It was a sad smile, but a smile none-the-less, that was offered in reply. “I’m okay, and Mike will be too, eventually. And you were so right Beth, that I should tell him the truth – he said he’d suspected there was something going on between me and Andre, and he appreciated me being brave enough to be honest about it.” She sighed, but continued.
“He also said it was a tiny bit easier knowing that I was leaving him for someone else, rather than if I’d just wanted to be without him. Dumping him for no one, like even being alone would be better than being with him. So thank you for your advice, and for having the courage to challenge me.”
“You’re welcome.”
“And thanks for agreeing to meet Mike tomorrow so you can go to class together – he’ll be so grateful that he doesn’t have to walk in alone after, well, you know...”
As it turned out though, it was Violet who struggled the most on entering the classroom the following night.
After a brilliant, exhilarating first day at college, Beth was brimming over with excitement when Mike met her at the end of the day, and her mood bolstered his. After an awkward: “So I guess Violet told you our news?” and a sympathetic hug, they grabbed a coffee and a sandwich while Beth waxed lyrical about her course, then they made their way into Andrew’s classroom and took their usual seats next to Violet...
Violet who was thoroughly miserable. The class began as soon as they sat down, so they couldn’t ask her what was wrong, but something clearly was, because Andrew ignored Violet all night. Even when she put up her hand to answer questions, which she did a lot, he chose someone else. Compared to the over-the-top praise and flirting he’d lavished on her every other time, his abrupt change of behaviour was blatantly obvious. By the end of the night, Violet looked like she was going to cry, and Beth’s heart broke for her.
What the hell? Had Andrew just been playing a game this whole time, wanting to break Violet and Mike up for the sheer sadistic pleasure of it? Wanting to see how much he could make Violet fall for him? Or was he wanting to get at her for some reason, thinking she would be jealous of his interest in her friend? She swapped worried glances with Mike, but he shrugged helplessly.
As they were walking out the door at the end of the night, Andrew finally spoke. “Violet, could I see you for a moment?”
She froze, but didn’t turn around, gazing at her two friends in shock and indecision. Mike stared back at his former girlfriend, with no idea what to say, so Beth knew it was up to her. Great.
“Find out what he wants, and why on earth he was being so rude to you tonight,” she said briskly. “We’ll wait for you in the car for fifteen minutes, in case you need to come home with us, okay? But if all is well we’ll go, and leave you to it.”
Violet smiled, relieved and grateful. “Thank you.”
They ended up waiting half an hour, just in case, then Mike sighed and started the car, before pulling out onto the road and heading for home. “Guess they worked it out,” he muttered.
Beth placed a hand on his arm in comfort. “Are you okay? Can I do anything?”
He smiled at her, but shook his head. “I’ll be okay. I guess it was inevitable, right? They always say you shouldn’t marry your childhood sweetheart. And how can I compete with him, all swarthy good looks and older-man intrigue, and ‘so spiritual, so intuitive, so amazing’,” he sighed, echoing Violet’s tone as she’d raved to them about their teacher over the past few weeks.
Grimacing, Beth tried not to roll her eyes. “I could handle never hearing those sentences again.”
She was surprised when Mike laughed. Taking it as a good sign, she spoke quickly, before she lost her nerve. “I think she’s crazy, to be honest. I’d choose you every time.” Then she held her breath. Had she gone too far? Spoken too soon?
“Thank you for being here for me Beth, I really appreciate it. And thanks for being there for Violet too. She told me you were really supportive.”
“I tried to convince her not to break up with you,” she blurted out, then slapped a hand across her mouth. Maybe she should have kept that to herself.
But Mike just nodded. “She mentioned that. You’re very sweet. I have to admit, I was a little surprised that Patricia’s daughter could be so kind and thoughtful, so unselfish. And I just want you to know how glad I am that you decided to stay in the village. Not just for my sake, but for yours too. I’m really proud of you, that you’ve started your degree, and are following your heart, and your dreams. You’ll be a wonderful teacher.”
She blushed, and stammered her thanks, then there was silence for a while. It wasn’t awkward though, it was just the two of them lost in their own thoughts, pondering the huge changes in both their lives. Companionable silence.
“Will you still come to Rose’s rituals?” Beth finally asked. “And oh god, what has she said about all this? I can’t imagine she’s thrilled by Violet’s decision – I know how much she cares about you, how much she loved that you were together.”
Mike turned to her, alarmed, and the car swerved wildly. “We can’t tell Rose!” he said urgently.
“Why not?” Beth asked, shocked. “Surely Violet wouldn’t keep something like this from her mum, they have a wonderful relationship. She wouldn’t lie to Rose, would she? And keeping it a secret hardly seems fair on you.”
“Or you,” he conceded, brow furrowed. “But we can’t tell her. Violet doesn’t want to upset her parents, and she’s worried that they won’t approve, that they won’t like that Andre is older than her, or has been married before. So we’re going to pretend we’re still together, for a while at least.”
“But that’s crazy! How can Vee expect you to do that for her? How can she think it’s okay for you to have to pretend to be in love with her, when you still are? To kiss her and hug her in public, but never be able to touch her in private? Surely that’s taking your friendship, and the feelings you still have for her, way too far.”
He shrugged again. “I don’t mind, I’m happy to help her out,” he said, although he sounded a little less sure this time. Maybe he hadn’t quite thought it through when he’d agreed to this acting gig. “For a little while at least. It was actually me who suggested she not reveal her new… whatever it is… until she’s sure about it. There’s no point worrying Rose or Louis if it doesn’t really go anywhere.”
“Wow, you are a much better person than me, Mike Stark,” she said, equal parts admiration and surprise. A better person than Violet too, she thought, but held her tongue.
He laughed,
but there was little mirth in it. “We’ve been part of each other’s lives for so long, I guess it will take me a while to get used to us not being completely entwined. It didn’t even occur to me not to offer to help. I guess I’m going to have to learn how to be my own person now. We’ve been Mike-and-Violet for as long as I can remember...”
He trailed off, and in the headlights of an oncoming car Beth saw his face, shadowed and twisted as he clutched the steering wheel with white-knuckled fingers. “I guess I have no idea, no reference point, for how to act after a break-up. Violet is the only person I’ve ever been with.”
“I can help you with that,” Beth said sternly. She was worried now that he hadn’t actually taken it all in, that he still had hope it would work out, and they’d get back together. That he was in denial about the devastating blow he’d been dealt, and would fall apart the moment the impact finally hit him. “First on the list – it’s totally inappropriate that she’s putting you through this, expecting you to continue a charade for Rose’s benefit. But it also says so much about who you are,” she said, voice gentler. “You will make some woman very very happy one day Mike.”
He looked over at her and grinned, that gorgeous smile that lit up his face. “You’re too kind.”
Shaking her head, she wondered how in all of this drama, she had ended up as the one considered kind. How ironic. The spell caster, the storm bringer, the drama queen.
Chapter 34
Un-Happy Anniversary
Rhiannon... Today…
Rhiannon woke up shivering, feeling the ice seeping, creeping, into her heart. Today was the one-year anniversary of her mother’s death, and she felt completely numb. She had no idea how she was going to get through the day. Intellectually she knew that this day shouldn’t affect her any more, or any less, than yesterday or tomorrow, and yet it did. Idly she wondered if her father would let her stay home from school to wallow in her pain, but the knock on her door made her think that was a definite no.
“Come in,” she called hoarsely. God, what had happened to her voice? Her whole body had tensed, the pain seeming to have tightened around her throat as well.
Her door opened, and Mike poked his head in. “Darling,” he began, his voice a croak too, broken and hollowed out. She gazed at him expectantly, but it seemed he was unable to say anything more, and her heart squeezed in pain at the obvious agony he was still suffering.
“Laura is picking Brodie up in a minute to take him to school,” he finally said. Her brow furrowed in bewilderment.
“I thought we could take the day off, and do something together?” he suggested. It was so unlike him that she almost laughed.
Surprise washed over her, and she opened her mouth to say no – her first instinct was to turn him down and run off to spend the day holed up somewhere on her own – but slowly she warmed to the idea.
“What did you have in mind?”
He shrugged. “I thought we could take some flowers to your mum’s grave first, then maybe drive over to Smithfield, see a movie, have a picnic in the grounds of the historic home there, like we used to...”
A brief smile crossed Rhiannon’s face as she remembered the afternoons they’d spent there as a family, munching on sandwiches and cupcakes, drinking coffee, feeding the regal swans, crunching through the autumn leaves or taking shelter from the summer sun under the huge old oak trees.
God, she felt so alone. Finally having a friend who understood her was amazing, yet the contrast from the joy of that to her self-imposed exile today meant she now felt even more isolated. Which wasn’t Carlie’s fault by any means. She hadn’t told her that it was the anniversary of her mum’s death – her friend’s grief at losing her own parents just three months ago was still so raw, so present, and she didn’t want to burden her with any more pain.
But she didn’t want to be alone today either, so she nodded to her dad, then jumped in the shower while he went downstairs and put the kettle on. After a quick breakfast, they stopped in at the florist, and she marvelled at the strange floral link between love and death. Her dad bought long-stemmed red roses, as he had on every wedding anniversary, while Rhiannon created her own bouquet, choosing white lilies, white roses, white poppies and white chrysanthemums, echoing the funeral flowers she’d chosen a year ago at Rose’s memorial of farewell.
And now they were at the entrance to the cemetery – but neither one of them was ready to walk inside. Finally an over-enthusiastic dog took the decision out of their hands, bounding over to them, jumping up on Rhiannon and licking her face, then pushing the pair through the gate.
It felt strange to be there with someone else. Grief was such an intimate thing, and she felt raw and exposed standing beside her mother’s grave with her dad right next to her. She was too shy to speak to her mum in his presence, and for a moment she wished they hadn’t come together. Perhaps shifts would have been better.
Her dad looked at her and smiled as if he’d heard her, then sank down onto the grass beside his wife’s resting place and closed his eyes, head bowed. Rhiannon felt as though she was intruding again, and took a step backwards, preparing to slip away and give him some privacy.
But before she could, he reached up his hand to her, and she reluctantly took it.
“It’s okay darling,” he said, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re not intruding at all. This is our place, and I’m so glad you’re here with me now, to help me through it. I’m not sure why it’s so much harder today, but it is.”
His echo of her thought from that morning almost made her smile, but she was stuck on what he’d said first.
“I’m helping you?” she asked, incredulous.
“Oh darling, of course you are. Every day. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost you too, and had to face your mum’s loss without you. I couldn’t cope with Brodie on my own either, and he wouldn’t be able to cope with me alone. We both need you so much, and I’m so grateful that you’re here for us. I can’t even begin to imagine how hard it is for Carlie, to have lost her entire family.”
“I’ve been no help,” she insisted, but her dad drew her down beside him, put his arm around her and held her close.
“I promise you love, you are absolutely a godsend to me. And even when you were being all surly and thinking you hated the world and it hated you, I was still so grateful to you when you did make the time to be with us.”
His words filled her with shame, and regret, but also with hope, and she looked around with new eyes.
The cemetery was beautiful, in a tragically lovely way. Sometimes, when she was here on her own, she wandered through it for ages before she even approached her mum’s resting place. There were graves from hundreds of years ago, most of them in various states of disrepair, but a few were kept in good condition, well tended and with flowers regularly left on them. There must be families in the village who went back generations, who grew up knowing about their ancestors, and honouring them even though they’d never met them.
There was one in particular that really fascinated her – it had a rosemary bush growing on it, just like her mum’s did, although this one was much older. There were always fresh flowers in the vase there, although she’d never seen anyone leave them, along with several small crystals scattered around the base, a variety of red, yellow and purple ribbons tied into the sprigs of the rosemary, and tealight candles in glass containers. Often she arrived to find them burning, yet there was never anyone in sight.
It saddened her, yet also filled her with longing, that these people were remembered so long after they’d lived, that they had family who honoured them, and that they were still connected to people today. It made her acutely aware of how little she had in the way of family.
Her mum was gone, and her mother’s parents were no longer in her life – not that they ever really had been, and not that she missed them at all. Beth did have a big sister, Jenny, but she lived in Scotland with her husband, on an isolated northern island, and rarely visite
d. She had stayed with Jenny’s daughter, her cousin Millie, in London on the night of the festival, but she was older than her, and often travelled to Spain for work, so they weren’t in regular contact.
Her dad had been an only child, and while his father died before she was born, she saw his mum, her Nanna Anne, and his stepfather, her Grandpa William, a few times a year. Mike’s grandparents had died long ago though, so she didn’t know anyone any further back on that side of the family tree either.
Did it matter? If family was made up of the people you cared about, who cared about you, then she had her dad, she had her brother, and she had Rose, who had been the predominant “grandmother” figure to her for her whole life. And yes, she was okay with admitting that she’d been jealous of Carlie at first, when she’d feared that the Aussie teenager would replace her in Rose’s life and affections, but the priestess had been very clear that there was enough love in her heart and space in her life for both of them.
So she had nothing to complain about – and yet the longing still clung to her whenever she was at the cemetery.
Today though, during her first visit with her dad, she felt soothed, and more satisfied with her lot than she had since her mum had died. They sat by her grave together for an hour in companionable silence, before Rhiannon rose and wandered over to the older part of the graveyard, leaving her dad to commune with his wife in private. Then something unspoken passed between them, and Rhiannon started walking back to her dad just as he stood up from his position on the grass, and so they headed back out to the road, even sadder than when they’d arrived, but glad that they had shared this time together.
Once they were in the car, they didn’t feel up to a movie, but with no better plan they drove over to Smithfield, grabbed lunch from a cafe, then wandered through the grounds of the manor house they used to visit with Beth and Brodie.
For Rhiannon, her brother’s absence was everywhere. In the family sitting on the banks of the stream, munching on hot chips and slurping back chocolate milk. In the sound of laughter that rang out from a passing car. In the grace of the swans gliding past on the river. In the small boy running ahead of his parents through the trees, a small dog yapping at his heels.
Into the Storm: Into the Storm Trilogy Book One Page 40