by Amy Cross
“Of course,” she replied, turning and heading back into the house. “It's not even up for debate. I have to go back.”
“I suppose you do,” he said, watching as she headed through the door. Turning back to look out at the glistening sea in the distance, he paused for a moment as his thoughts turned once again to the child he'd sent away during the night. “It is not often,” he whispered finally, “that I find myself reaching the limits of my influence.”
***
“No!” Madeleine screamed, tearing at the bandages that covered her belly. “It's not true! It can't be!”
“Please -” Benjamin began, before she pushed him aside.
“He's lying! He'd never do that to me!” As she ripped away the final bandage, she ran her fingers across the thick black stitches that held her belly together. After a moment, her fingertips began to tug at the stitches, but Benjamin put his hands on hers and gently guided them away.
“He did it to protect you,” he told her. “To save you.”
“He killed our baby to save me?” she spat back at him. With bandages still covering her eyes, she seemed momentarily lost for words. “I want to say that I can't believe such a thing, but knowing my brother... Why didn't you stop him? Why didn't you tell him to let me die and save the child?”
“There was no time, and even so, the -”
“This is typical of Edgar,” she continued. “Do you know when he's at his most dangerous? It's not when he's angry, or when he's after revenge, or when he's in one of his furies. No, Edgar Le Compte is at his most dangerous when he's trying to help someone. At least if he wants to kill you, you'll die quickly. If he wants to help you, then God help your soul, because he will tear your life to shreds.”
“Madeleine -”
“That's what we should do about Quill,” she added. “Get Edgar to try to help Quill, and by the end of it we'll all feel sorry for that cold-blooded bastard.”
“Madeleine -”
“Look at me!” she screamed. “Look what my own brother did to me!”
“Try to calm down -”
“Don't!” she shouted, reaching out and grabbing him by the throat. “Don't you dare, ever tell me to calm down, do you understand? If you say those words to me one more time, my dear Benjamin, I will end your miserable life.”
“Madeleine, you're hurting me!”
Leaning closer, she squeezed his throat tighter. “Try to calm down,” she sneered. “It's only pain!”
“What are you doing?” he gasped. “I can feel you in my head!”
“I'm taking a little stroll through your thoughts,” she told him. “The better to know what you're really thinking. Also, I want to see through your eyes for a moment, to see the wretch I've become. I do so hate bandages, you know.”
“Madeleine, please, stop!”
“Make me.”
“Madeleine -”
“Oh, I can see myself,” she whispered, as she saw the images in Benjamin's mind. “I can feel your thoughts, too. Are you scared of me, my darling? Does the idea of my madness send fear through your soul?”
He let out another gasp, as he tried to pull her hands from around his throat.
“But you -” Pausing, she continued to rifle through his mind. “You love me,” she said finally, as if the idea shocked her. “I thought I'd find caution, and a desire to leave, but instead... Oh my dear, poor Benjamin, you have no intention of abandoning me, do you? I can feel it in the depths of your soul, you're going to stay by my side. All those banal, pathetic attempts to make me feel better, to give me hope for the future... You really mean them.”
“I...” Unable to breathe, he tried desperately to get free.
“Human minds are so small,” she added. “It only takes a few seconds to go through everything in your head.” With that, she loosened her grip.
Pulling away, he clutched at his neck as he gasped for air.
“My body is a weak and feeble thing,” Madeleine continued, running her hands over her torn and ravaged flesh. “Even though it has already begun to heal, I can tell there are so many little cuts all over my flesh. I'm certain I must look quite awful.”
“You look beautiful,” he replied, watching from a distance. “Madeleine, you'll always be beautiful, and you'll always be... I mean, we can recover from this. Edgar says you'll heal, and that your eyes will return, and that the madness you feel might pass in time. And we can move on, we can find a way to get past everything that has happened, we can even try for another child.”
“To replace the scrap of dead meat that was torn from me?”
Stepping closer, he sat on the side of the bed and took her hands in his. “It's going to feel very raw right now,” he told her. “I understand that, or at least I'm trying to understand.”
“I know,” she replied, “and... I'm sorry, Benjamin. What I just did, when I entered your mind without your permission, that was wrong of me. It's the kind of thing my brother would do, which only reminds me that it was wrong.” Leaning closer, she placed a kiss on his cheek. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“I forgive you,” he told her. “Don't do it again, but I forgive you this time.”
“I just thought...” Putting her arms around him, she held him tight. “I was so sure that you'd leave me, that you'd think of me as a monster now. When I was in your mind, I felt your sorrow, but I realized it wasn't for us, it was for the child. I wish I could have known that without doing what I did. Please, you have to forgive me...”
“I already told you,” he replied, “I forgive you. You've apologized once, that's enough.” He paused for a moment. “Jacob is going to bring you some food soon. Eggs the way you like them, and bacon. We were thinking that perhaps your appetite is starting to return.”
“I'll try,” she told him.
“And then later,” he continued, “maybe you'd like to get out of bed and try -”
“No.”
“Not even for a moment?”
“I must stay in here,” she told him. “I'm not ready to face the rest of them. I'll be able to smell their pity from a thousand paces, and I don't want that.”
III
Staring at herself in the mirror, Estella took a moment to tidy her dress. She wanted everything to be perfect, and she refused to leave any part of the endeavor to chance.
“Okay,” she said finally, trying to find the courage she so desperately needed. “Time to go and do this.”
***
“Ms. Graves,” Doctor Lassiter said as soon as he saw her in the doorway. Getting to his feet, he made his way over to greet her. Always so polite, always such a gentleman. “I'm sorry, I didn't see your name on the list of patients for today.”
“I don't have an appointment,” she replied, unable to stifle a smile as soon as she realized she could smell his familiar cologne. “I'm afraid I rather took it upon myself to drop in unannounced. It's your lunch break, is it not?”
“Don't worry about that,” he continued, leading her over to his desk, “I'm always more than happy to help people, no matter what time they drop by. I know we all lead busy lives, so it can be difficult for us to fit into one another's schedules. When one person is free, the other isn't, and then it's the other way around.”
“You're a good man,” she whispered, with tears in her eyes. “Such a very, very good man.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Nothing,” she replied, taking a seat and watching as he made his way around the desk to his chair. “The truth is, Paul... I mean, Doctor Lassiter... I mean... Paul... Well, there's nothing actually wrong with me.” She looked down at her hands, which had begun nervously pulling at a loose piece of thread on her purse. Forcing herself to stop, she turned back to him, afraid that he might sense her nervousness. “I'm fine. Fit as a fiddle, in fact. That's why I didn't make an appointment. I was reluctant to take up your valuable time.”
“Please, don't even think like that. I can always fit a patient in, even if it's one such as yoursel
f.”
“Such as...” She paused. “What exactly does that mean?”
“Well, just that I've barely ever seen you before. In fact...” He paused, as if some distant memory was struggling to break through into his mind. “You know, I'm not sure...”
They sat in silence for a moment. His mind seemed to have stalled a little, as if the block in his thoughts was fading.
“Yes?” she said eventually.
He turned to her.
“We have met before,” she continued, keen to encourage the recovery of his memories. “Quite a few times, as it happens. When we were children, we spent a considerable amount of time together. Do you remember that?”
He frowned. “I'm afraid I don't, no.”
“Do you remember walking to the stones on the north side of the island, on a beautiful summer day? Just you and me? We had such fun that day, it was the first time we...” Pausing, she thought back to that moment, when their lips had first touched. It all seemed so long ago now, and she felt a shiver pass through her body as she realized that she'd given up something pure and good, all because she was lured by the promise of marriage to Baron Edgar Le Compte instead. Still, she was certain those memories must be locked in Lassiter's mind somewhere, despite the spell she'd cast on him a few days earlier and which she was now desperate to reverse. “We sat on the grass next to the southern-most stone,” she continued, “and our hands accidentally touched. Well, not entirely by accident, I feel we were both willing the moment to happen, but...”
She waited, hoping he'd show some sign of remembering, but he merely stared at her blankly.
“Then there was the time we decided to walk all around the island,” she added. “Do you remember that day? We thought we'd take the entire coastal path, and we did it, even though our legs ached by the time we got back to town. Everyone asked why we'd bothered, but we said we'd done it just for fun. That's how things often worked out, we'd just get some crazy idea in our heads and we'd go off and do it, ignoring everyone else. We were seen as quite the pair, and those...” She paused again, as she thought back to the old days. “Those times were the best,” she continued finally. “Carefree, happy... Before I started dreaming about becoming the wife of...”
Shuddering, she thought back to how excited she'd been when she'd first met Edgar, and when she'd first thought she could marry him. She'd dropped her old life so quickly, and now here she was, trying to get it back. She had no right, she knew that, but still...
“The stones,” Lassiter said suddenly. “I remember going there with... someone.”
“It was me.”
“Are you sure?” He frowned. “I remember...” Holding up his hand for a moment, he seemed lost in thought as he tried to remember the touch of someone else, someone whose face remained just out of his memory's reach. “It's as if there's a kind of fog in my mind. I remember all the things you mentioned, but whenever I try to think of the person I was with, I just see a figure that seems rather blurred and gray.”
“Try a little harder,” she continued, with tears in her eyes. “Please, just -”
“Darling!” a voice called out suddenly. “I spoke to the priest and -”
Turning, Estella saw to her horror that Emma Lowndes was standing in the doorway.
“Oh,” Emma continued, “I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone was here. I thought it was your lunch break, Paul.”
“It is,” he replied hastily, getting to his feet and hurrying over to her. He kissed her gently on the cheek before turning back to Estella. “Ms. Graves was just...” He paused. “Well, she...”
“I just dropped by to say hello to an old friend,” Estella said, trying not to panic as she saw Emma slipping an arm around the doctor's waist. Somewhere deep in her chest, however, she could already feel a sensation of utter dread. “I...”
“Aren't I the luckiest woman on the island?” Emma asked, with a broad smile. “Marrying the local doctor! I showed you the ring earlier, remember? It's all just so wonderfully exciting and thrilling! I used to date a boy from the boats, and he was alright, but I feel I'm much better suited to being a doctor's wife. Can you believe this handsome devil was still on the market?”
Estella opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out.
“Ms. Lowndes and I are to be married,” Doctor Lassiter told her, with just the faintest hint of doubt in his voice. “We... Well, it has all been rather quick, but time waits for no man and I think it's time for me to settle down and start a family. Lately I've been feeling... I don't know, a little empty inside and -”
“Darling,” Emma said, interrupting him, “I'm sure Ms. Graves doesn't need to hear your every inner thought.”
“Quite right,” he replied, catching himself. “I just...” He stared at Estella for a moment, as if the fog in his mind might be about to lift, before forcing a smile and patting Emma on the shoulder. “Well, the bachelor life isn't really much fun, not after a man reaches a certain age, and this surgery comes with a very generous house attached. It's perfect for a young family, really. Plus, Ms. Lowndes and I have been spending rather a lot of time together lately, and taking some long walks around the island. It's amazing, really, how you can know someone for so many years and then suddenly realize that you have feelings for them, and that they'd make a good wife.”
“Oh,” Emma replied, rolling her eyes, “you're so romantic.”
“I should go,” Estella said, hurrying to the door.
“Is there nothing I can help you with?” Lassiter asked.
“I think I shall be fine.”
“But if -”
“Good day.”
Slipping past them, Estella made her way out into the hallway and headed to the front door, leaving Lassiter to frown for a moment.
“What did she want?” Emma asked, clearly a little concerned.
“I don't really know,” he replied, turning to her. “She's the most peculiar woman. She came in here and...” He paused, but just as his memories of the old days had been affected by Estella's powers, so too were his memories of the past few minutes starting to slip from his conscious mind, leaving him with a hint of confusion. “It was nothing much,” he said finally, forcing a smile. “I still have part of my lunch break left if you'd like to spend some time together. Wait here and I'll fix us both a sandwich.”
“No,” she replied, “that's my job.” Leaning closer, she kissed him on the cheek. “And I was going to say, why don't we bring our wedding date forward slightly? After all, we have no reason to wait.”
***
“Are you sure about that?” asked Kenneth Goddard, the cantina's owner. “I mean -”
“There are no rules on this island about a woman drinking alone, are there?” Estella asked bitterly.
“No, but -”
“Or are women only allowed to serve in a place like this?” she added, noticing a Help Wanted sign behind the bar.
“Why? Are you applying?”
“God, no,” she replied, horrified by the idea. “I haven't fallen so far that I need to take a job in a foul-smelling beer hall. I would, however, appreciate a little service.” Sliding her empty glass toward him, she fixed him with a determined stare. “Don't worry, I'm not going to get drunk and start dancing on the tables.”
“Well...” He paused, before glancing across the empty room. It was still barely lunchtime, and there were still several hours to go before the regulars starting filling the place again. “I'm just not really comfortable...”
“I'll pay double.”
He watched as she set some coins on the bar.
“Come on,” she continued, “I know men come in here at all hours of the day and night to drink their sorrows away. Are you saying that just because I'm a woman, I can't do that? What are you so scared of?”
“Maybe you should go home,” he replied. “I'm sure you have things to be doing. Does your father know you're here?”
“I'm not a child.”
“Still -”
&nb
sp; “Get me a drink,” she said firmly.
He paused again, before taking her glass and heading over to the shelf where he kept the bottles of red wine.
As she watched, Estella found herself wondering whether she might be able to control Goddard's actions. She took a deep breath and imagined him dropping his wine glass, and then she tried to reach out and enter his mind, to make his hand loosen. At first, she told herself she was just playing a little game, but as she watched him filling the glass she became more and more determined to test her abilities a little further, focusing on his hand until, finally, the glass slipped free and smashed against the cantina's stone floor.
“What -” Looking down, Goddard seemed genuinely shocked. “I don't...”
“Clumsy,” Estella whispered with a faint smile.
“I'm sorry,” he continued, taking another glass from the shelf, “I don't know how -”
Before he could finish, the second glass fell to the floor, smashing just like the first.
Estella grinned.
“What the...” Pausing, Goddard turned to her. “I have no idea what's happening.”
“I'm sure the third time will be the charm,” she muttered darkly.
Taking great care not to drop the third glass, Goddard poured some wine and then set the drink in front of her, before grabbing a dustpan and brush so he could clean up the mess. He muttered something under his breath, and it was clear that he didn't quite understand what had happened.
Still smiling, Estella looked down at the glass in front of her. She hadn't really expected to be able to influence the barman's mind, and although she figured he was most likely one of the island's weaker specimens, she was sure she'd be able to extend her powers with a little work. The books up at Edgar's mansion had been useful, but now she no longer had access to them she was starting to realize that they might have constrained her, that she would learn faster if she just explored her abilities on her own, unfettered by dusty, dull tomes or by Nixon's constant nagging.