by Sk Quinn
‘Listen Patrick. Bertie wants to see Anise. That’s more important than anything right now. And he has a right to see her. And if that means she comes with someone we don’t want to see, then so be it. Right?’
‘You know what that man did?’ says Patrick, his eyes steely. ‘He nearly—’
I glance at Daphne. ‘But he didn’t.’
‘I won’t have him near my nephew.’
‘Patrick, I understand how you feel. Believe me. I feel the same way. But Bertie needs to see Anise. She’s his mother. And we’ll all be here to protect him from Regan. Okay?’
Patrick glares at the fire.
‘Please Patrick. We have to do this. For Bertie’s sake.’
‘So be it.’
45
Ten minutes later, Rab appears in the oak doorway.
‘Patrick. The guests you wanted.’
Patrick gives him a curt nod. ‘Thank you Rab. Show them in.’
Rab stands back, and Regan swaggers into the room.
His dark, shaved head gleams under the chandelier light. His brown eyes roam the room. When they find me, he smiles – a leering smile.
Patrick leaps to his feet. ‘You’d better behave yourself Thornburn.’
Regan shrugs. ‘What did I do?’
‘You know exactly what you were doing,’ Patrick barks. ‘Now sit down over there. And keep your eyes to yourself.’
‘It’s nice in here isn’t it?’ says Regan. ‘Nicer than the cold bit of castle you slung us poor relations into anyway. Isn’t it Anise?’
Anise hides behind him, a timid little mouse. ‘Yes.’
‘Not a nice way for your brother to treat us really is it? When you think about it.’
‘No,’ says Anise. She glances at Bertie.
‘Anise, would you like to sit next to Bertie?’ I ask.
‘She can sit over here with me,’ says Regan, throwing himself on a silk sofa and patting the seat beside him. ‘Can’t you?’
‘Yes,’ says Anise, hurrying to sit beside Regan.
Bertie’s eyes turn wild with fury. He starts snapping characters off the Guess Who board.
‘Bertie, don’t break the game,’ says Daphne. ‘You’ll spoil it for everyone.’
‘He’s upset,’ I say, going to his side. ‘Aren’t you? You’re upset because Mummy didn’t sit next to you.’
I throw my last comment at Regan and Anise.
I’m sort of angry with Anise, but then I notice her hands are shaking.
She’s terrified, poor thing. She doesn’t know what to do. Regan has really messed with her head.
‘Regan,’ I say. ‘Don’t you think Anise should sit with her son?’
‘I think she should sit where I tell her to sit,’ says Regan, putting a rough arm around Anise’s shoulder.
‘Then tell her to sit with her son,’ I say, my voice hard.
Regan shrugs. ‘Why should I?’
‘Because it’s the right thing to do.’
‘Like sticking us in the shitty part of the castle, you mean?’ says Regan.
‘You didn’t have to come here, Thornburn,’ says Patrick. ‘You could have stayed on your farm and left well alone.’
‘But this is our home now,’ says Regan. ‘Me and the missus here. And my brothers, of course.’
‘Enjoy it while it lasts,’ Patrick barks.
‘Oh we will,’ says Regan.
‘Regan,’ I say, my voice pleading now. ‘Please. Just let Anise sit next to Bertie. It doesn’t make any difference to you.’
‘I’m not stopping her,’ says Regan. ‘But as you can see, she wants to please her new husband. Don’t you?’
Anise looks between Regan and Bertie, her eyes wild and frightened. ‘Yes Regan. But—’
‘BUT?’ Regan shouts.
‘But nothing,’ says Anise meekly.
‘You watch how you talk to her, Thornburn,’ says Patrick. ‘Just watch it.’
‘Or else what, Mansfield?’ says Regan. ‘You can’t do a thing. Not now Anise and I are married. Make one wrong move and I’ll have half your castle knocked down.’
‘That I could live with,’ says Patrick. ‘As long as you were in it at the time.’
‘Boys, boys.’ Daphne puts a hand to her head. ‘Stop this fighting. Not in front of Bertie. Anise, my love. Do come and sit by Bertie. Please. He wants his mama.’
Anise looks at Regan again, but he just shrugs. ‘Whatever.’
Anise slides down from the sofa and scoots herself next to Bertie. She sits on her ankles, all stiff and awkward.
‘Why don’t we play a game?’ I suggest. ‘Bertie wanted to play Jenga earlier. Anise – would you and Bertie like to play together?’
‘I’d like that,’ says Anise, glancing back at Regan.
‘Games are for kids, Anise,’ says Regan.
‘Oh. Well maybe … I think I’ll just watch.’ She gives Bertie an awkward smile.
‘Here.’ I pull out Jenga and stack up the pile on the floor. ‘Bertie. You go first.’
We start to play, the tower of wooden bricks getting higher and more wobbly.
Then a bulky shadow falls over us.
‘Is this a private party or can anyone join?’
It’s Zara.
But she’s not alone.
She’s with Blake Thornburn.
46
Regan pulls himself up on the sofa. ‘Where’s Riley?’
‘Tearing up the woodlands on his quad bike,’ says Blake, his brown twinkling eyes finding mine. ‘But not all of us Thornburns are the same. Some of us can be civilised.’
‘You?’ Zara laughs, sliding her hand through his arm. ‘Civilised? If you were civilised, Blake Thornburn, you’d be a hell of a lot less fun. You’re just like your brothers.’
‘Come off it,’ says Blake. ‘I’m not as bad as those two. I’ve always treated you all right, haven’t I?’
‘You’re more of a gentleman, I admit. But you’re still insatiable.’
‘Coming from you, that’s a worry,’ says Blake, not taking his eyes off mine. ‘So. Are we all joining in, or what? Bertie? What do you say?’
Bertie nods hard and manages a little, ‘Yes.’
‘All right then.’ Blake throws himself on the floor by Bertie, lying on his stomach and reaching forward to move Jenga bricks.
His soft, brown hair falls forward as he moves the bricks.
‘Oo, nearly!’ he says, as the tower wobbles.
He smiles at Bertie, and to my amazement Bertie smiles back.
It turns out to be a fun, if slightly strange, afternoon.
Blake gets into all the games, insisting he and Bertie are on the same team, and whooping and cheering when they win.
Even Anise gets into the swing of things, agreeing to play one round on Blake and Bertie’s team.
Bertie beams with happiness as the three of them play together. And I can feel Patrick soften a little.
He wants the same as me. For Bertie to be happy. And I think he’s beginning to realise that without Anise that’s impossible. No little boy should be without his mother.
Regan behaves like a complete idiot, of course. Ordering Louise to bring him beer and balancing the bottles on the silk sofa.
I try my best to ignore him, but I can see that Patrick finds it hard.
By suppertime, Regan is completely drunk.
He staggers to his feet and pulls Anise up with him. ‘Food time, if I’m not mistaken. Let’s go and see what that pretty little kitchen girl has ready for us.’
Anise blushes.
‘I’m hungry too,’ says Zara, standing and smoothing down her dress. ‘Blakey, sweetheart. Take me out and feed me, won’t you? I’m famished. I’m so over the food here. I need sushi. Or something French. Much more my cup of tea.’
Regan looks Zara up and down in her tight dress. ‘You’re my cup of tea, Zara. And don’t you know it.’
Anise’s eyes widen. But she doesn’t say anything.
‘Thank you darling,’ say
s Zara, smiling. ‘But Blake is keeping me entertained for now.’
‘Just say the word.’ Regan sways a little, a sexy smile on his face.
Blake rolls his eyes at Anise. ‘Sorry about my brother. Take him for some food. He’ll straighten out once he’s got a meal inside him.’
47
Once I’ve given Bertie his supper and put him to bed, Patrick and I take a walk around the castle.
The evening is milky grey and there’s a full moon in the sky.
Huge floodlights shine up the castle walls, lighting up the whole building.
I can smell fresh grass and new flowers.
Patrick and I hold hands as we walk.
‘Still thinking about Bertie?’ Patrick asks.
‘Of course I am. Aren’t you?’
‘I was. But not now.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I see him getting better. This afternoon … I had hope. That Bertie can get over what happened to him.’
I feel myself smile. ‘I wish I had your confidence. He was softer today. But … the situation with Anise and Regan … after everything that happened … I am scared. I’m scared we’ll lose him to them. May said—’
‘I remember,’ says Patrick. ‘That Bertie was lost to us. But he was a Mansfield before he was a Thornburn. And he always will be a Mansfield. He just needs time.’
‘And Anise?’
Patrick sighs. ‘I don’t know. Regan certainly has got his claws in. I don’t know if she’ll be strong enough to get through this.’
‘But where does that leave Bertie?’
‘With half a mother,’ says Patrick. ‘But better than no mother at all, I suppose.’
‘No. He should have a whole mother. Half a mother is painful. I should know.’
‘I hate to think of you in pain.’
‘It’s okay. I’m not really in pain anymore. Everything that happened with Mum happened a long time ago.’
‘Have you told her about the wedding?’
‘She … not yet. But we’ve been in the newspaper, apparently. So … maybe she knows.’
‘You should contact her. Invite her personally. She shouldn’t find out through a newspaper.’
‘I’m not even sure I’m going to invite her.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous Seraphina. She’s your mother. She has to be there.’
‘What about your father?’ I say. ‘Do you think he should be at the wedding?’
‘Of course not.’
‘Then why does my mother have to be there?’
‘Because you still have something of a relationship. If a little fractured. And I’d like to meet her.’
‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’
‘Don’t be afraid.’ Patrick leans down and kisses me.
I feel myself sinking into him, letting his arms wrap around me.
He pulls back, smiling. ‘Look down there.’
‘Where?’
‘Bluebells. Your flower.’
I smile, seeing a clump of bluebells by the castle wall. ‘My flower? Are you so sure about that?’
‘Certain. They must have come for the wedding. You, Seraphina Harper, are going to be a beautiful bride.’
‘I found the dress. Did Hugo tell you?’
‘Yes.’
‘I knew it was the one. As soon as I saw it.’
Patrick raises a teasing eyebrow. ‘Just like you knew about me. As soon as you saw me?’
I smile. ‘Actually, it took me a long time to decide about you.’
‘No it didn’t. You knew straight away. From the first moment. Just like I did.’
The smile creeps further up my face. ‘Maybe.’
‘And if you’d listened to your instincts, we could have been together much sooner.’
‘We got together pretty quick!’
‘Not quick enough for my liking.’
‘Can I tell you a secret?’
‘Anything.’
‘I’m still nervous about the wedding.’
‘I know you are. But it’ll be fine. Better than fine. Amazing. Okay?’
‘Okay.’
48
I spend the rest of the evening with Wila, hanging out in her bedroom.
She’s leaving for London tomorrow morning. So we have a girly night – fudge brownie ice cream, popcorn, Coca Cola and romantic comedies on the flat screen.
I plait Wila’s hair and she does mine. And we talk about the wedding and what a beautiful bridesmaid she’ll make.
‘Aren’t you nervous?’ she asks.
‘You mean of marrying a Lord in a great big cathedral?’ I say. ‘Terrified.’
Wila watches me with those big eyes of her. ‘I can’t imagine you afraid.’
‘You can’t?’
‘No.’
‘I don’t usually let you see it.’
‘Are you afraid about … you know. Wedding night stuff?’
I smile. ‘Wedding night stuff? You mean sex?’
Wila nods.
‘You know, we’ve never really talked about sex. Have we?’
‘No.’
‘I wish we had. I wish I’d talked to you about it sooner. I just thought … I mean, you were at that girl’s school, and I never really imagined you having a boyfriend.’
‘It’s okay. I didn’t expect … well, you know. That stuff with my teacher. It just sort of happened.’
‘That’s usually how it goes,’ I smile. ‘When you least expect it, it just sort of happens. I should have prepared you a little better.’
‘I always thought it would be really special,’ says Wila, folding her legs under herself on the bed. ‘My first time. That it would be with a boyfriend I was in love with. Someone handsome. Sweet.’
‘I wish it had been all those things for you,’ I say. ‘If I’d been in London—’
‘No. It had nothing to do with you being away,’ says Wila. ‘We’d been seeing each other for a while. Before I started boarding. He was the reason I applied for the scholarship. He wanted to see me more. At night …’
‘That slimeball.’
‘I know. I know that now. I don’t even know what I ever saw in him.’
‘You’re a teenage girl in a school full of teenage girls. And a man started paying you attention,’ I say.
‘But he’s so old.’
I laugh. ‘Didn’t you notice at the time?’
‘At first. But then I sort of forgot. He doesn’t act old. He acts like someone my age. He knew all the movies I liked. And the music.’
I raise an eyebrow.
‘I know, I know,’ says Wila. ‘He probably learned all that stuff on purpose. So he could get what he wanted.’
‘He’s gone now,’ I say. ‘And he won’t be back.’
‘But … it’s like he’s stolen something from me. I had something special. Something to give to my first boyfriend. It should have been … like, a magical thing. Like it will be with you and Patrick.’
‘Wila, I don’t know how to tell you this but … Patrick and I aren’t all innocent. I won’t be pure on my wedding night, put it that way.’
‘You won’t?’
‘No.’
‘Oh.’
‘You know I’ve had boyfriends.’
‘Yes, but I didn’t think …’ She frowns.
‘Is this all a bit icky?’ I ask. ‘Thinking about big sister and her boyfriends?’
‘A little bit. But it makes me feel better in a way. That I haven’t ruined things for myself. That I might find someone like Patrick. And he won’t not want me because of what’s happened.’
‘Wila, you were totally taken advantage of. Any decent man will understand that. And listen – most people’s first time isn’t all that great. And it isn’t always with someone they love.’
‘I know that. But I wanted mine to be.’
I hug her. ‘Things don’t always work out how you want them to. Life isn’t about getting what you want, anyway. It’s about how you get up when you’
re knocked down. Because trust me – you will get knocked down. And I promise you. You’ll get back up again too. Because you’re strong.’
‘I don’t feel strong,’ says Wila. ‘I want to go back to school, but … it’s going to be so embarrassing. So much talk.’
‘You are strong,’ I tell her. ‘When I watch you perform … how you spin on your toes. Without so much as a frown on your face. And all the training you do. Even when you’re tired. You’re strong Wila. You’re going to get over this. And so what if the girls talk? Better than being ignored, don’t you think?’
Wila smiles. ‘I guess so.’
‘So. Are you all packed for tomorrow?’
‘Pretty much. But I’m leaving a few things here. I’ll be back soon, won’t I? For the wedding?’
‘In just a few days.’
‘I’ll be an amazing bridesmaid for you.’
‘Of course you will be.’
‘Pheeny … what about Mum?’
‘What about her?’
‘Will she be coming?’
‘Patrick asked me that. I haven’t told her about the wedding yet. I … I don’t know whether I’m going to ask her or not.’
‘And Dad?’
My dad isn’t really Wila’s dad. But she calls him dad anyway. He’s more of a dad than hers ever was.
‘I need to work up the courage to tell him.’
Wila laughs. ‘Because we both know exactly what he’ll say …’
‘You’re rushing into this too quickly!’ we both say together.
‘I was planning on calling him tomorrow. I mean, maybe he’s working and can’t make it anyway.’ I sigh. ‘I just don’t know what to do about Mum.’
‘You should tell her about it. And invite her.’
‘I’m not so sure …’
‘Why?’
‘Honestly? Because I don’t want Patrick to meet her.’
‘Oh.’ Wila nods. ‘I get it. I do. But … he loves you. Meeting our mum isn’t going to change that.’
‘But what if it does?’
49
When Danny and I wave Wila off the next day, I feel a pang of sadness.
‘Are we sending her into the lion’s den?’ I ask Danny.
‘She’ll be all right sis,’ he says, putting an arm around my shoulder. ‘She’s a tough little thing.’
‘I’m not so sure.’