Bed of Ice

by Sk Quinn

  ‘That’s right lad,’ Regan tells Bertie. ‘Stay here. With your real family.’

  ‘We’re his real family.’ Patrick hauls Regan out of the water and with one elegant punch knocks him down.

  Regan’s body slumps over the barrel.

  Bertie looks between Patrick and the slumped figure of Regan.

  ‘It’s okay Bertie,’ I say softly. ‘We’re taking you home now. Okay? To your real home. No one will be able to hurt you—’

  Bertie shuffles further away.

  Patrick goes to Bertie and scoops him under his arm. ‘We need to go. Right now.’

  Bertie thrashes around. But after a moment he goes limp, I guess deciding this is a fight he’s not going to win.

  ‘I’ll call Rab,’ says Patrick. ‘Get the police here for Regan. They can work out what to do with him.’

  ‘What about Anise?’ I ask, looking at the sobbing figure on the floor.

  Patrick shakes his head. ‘She’s going to need a lot of help.’

  I kneel beside her. ‘Anise? Come with us okay? With Bertie.’

  Anise turns her body away from me and sobs against her knees.

  ‘Please Anise. For Bertie’s sake.’

  Anise lifts her head and notices Bertie under Patrick’s arm. Her lips tighten and she gives a little nod, getting to her feet.

  ‘Come on,’ I say, taking her arm. ‘Let’s go home.’

  115

  Back at Mansfield Castle, I watch Bertie shrink back into the angry, frightened little boy he was when we first met.

  He won’t talk or eat. He won’t look at me or Patrick. He’s just … lost.

  Anise goes to her room and won’t come out. She won’t talk to the police or the medics. Or me. She just sits by her window and stares out into the dark night.

  After the police have taken statements and medics check us all over, Patrick and I wait in Bertie’s bedroom like anxious parents.

  Bertie sits up in bed, half under the duvet covers where I’ve tucked him in. He stares right past Patrick and I like we don’t exist.

  It’s really late now – way past his bedtime.

  A collection of meals and drinks sit on trays around the room. We’ve offered him everything on the kitchen menu. But he hasn’t touched a thing. Not even liquorice and milk.

  I clutch at Patrick’s hand, trying to keep the tears in. Bertie doesn’t need any more tears.

  ‘If you can’t manage any food, maybe you should try to sleep,’ I tell Bertie softly.

  Like a robot, Bertie slides down under the duvet, rests his head on the pillow and closes his eyes.

  I watch him, a tear sliding down my cheek.

  I feel Patrick’s hands clasp mine.

  ‘Come on,’ Patrick says, pulling me to my feet. ‘Let him rest. And you should rest too. You’re no good to him worn out.’

  I nod and let Patrick guide me to the door.

  ‘Night night Bertie,’ I whisper.

  Bertie’s eyes don’t even flicker. He rolls over and faces the wall.

  116

  When we leave Bertie’s bedroom, I put my head in my hands.

  Patrick brings me against his chest and strokes my hair.

  ‘It’s like he never knew me,’ I say.

  ‘This will take time,’ says Patrick. ‘He’s been traumatised. He doesn’t know up from down right now.’

  ‘And Anise … it’s like she’s been body snatched.’

  ‘Anise has always been … soft inside. She bends herself to the people around her. Never sure of herself. When she’s with the wrong people … she gets lost.’

  I hear the click of high heels, and Zara’s voice rings down the corridor.

  ‘The wrong people? You mean like me?’

  I turn to see Zara’s curls and white teeth. She looks wide-awake – unlike Patrick and I.

  ‘Everyone always said Anise turned bad when I was around,’ says Zara, her eyes big and sad. ‘Maybe I should have stayed away.’

  ‘Where did you come from?’ I ask.

  ‘Just now? Anise’s room,’ says Zara. ‘She … god. I don’t know. What the hell did Regan do to her? She was telling me Granddad Dirk was innocent. That we had to make Bertie tell the truth.’

  ‘Oh shit. She’s still saying all that stuff?’

  Suddenly Zara begins to sob. Big, angry noisy tears. ‘I really fucked up, didn’t I?’

  ‘This isn’t your fault.,’ I say.

  ‘Of course it is,’ Zara sniffs. ‘I brought Anise to those parties all those years ago. If it wasn’t for me she’d never have slept with the Thorburn brothers. She’d never have got so obsessed with Regan. It was all a game back then. At least that’s what I thought. If I’d have known where it would lead …’

  ‘You couldn’t have known,’ I say softly, thinking how weird it is that I’m comforting Zara. ‘You did a good thing. You were brave. You went to the Thorburn’s farm all by yourself –’

  ‘For all the good it did.’

  ‘How did you know to come back here?’ I ask.

  ‘Rab came and got me. He told me Patrick had found all three of you. I think Blake was pretty confused. There he was, all young and fit and gorgeous. And I ended up leaving his house with Rab – a big, bald guy twice my age.’

  ‘My father must know someone in the police,’ says Patrick. ‘He shouldn’t have been able to communicate with the Thorburns. Not while he was in custody. But someone let him. I need to find out who.’

  My throat goes tight. ‘Vicky said something about the police. About Mrs Calder’s dead husband. That he was high up in the police.’

  ‘You need to rest.’ Patrick frowns. ‘I’ll take you to our room.’

  ‘I need to see Wila first,’ I say. ‘She doesn’t even know I’m back.’

  ‘Okay. But then straight to bed.’

  I raise an eyebrow at him. ‘I can work out my own bedtime.’

  Zara gives me a little smile. ‘You know, I’m getting to like you.’

  ‘Zara,’ says Patrick. ‘The Willow suite is all set up for you. You should rest too.’

  ‘What about you, Patrick?’ I ask. ‘Don’t you need sleep?’

  ‘After what’s just happened? And a weak link in the police force? My night is just beginning.’

  I see Wila before I go to bed. She’s watching movies in one of the guest bedrooms.

  ‘You were gone ages,’ she says, rubbing her eyes. ‘Did you find the little boy?’

  ‘We found him.’

  ‘Oh. I’m so glad. Danny sends his love.’

  ‘You spoke to him?’

  Wila smiles. ‘The nurses are complaining that he keeps asking for morphine all the time. He sounded okay. A bit tired. But other than that, okay.’

  ‘How are you?’ I ask.

  Wila puts a hand to her tummy. ‘Oh you know. Lots to think about. But basically okay.’

  117

  The next morning I wake in Patrick’s bed.

  Patrick is sleeping beside me completely naked. A walkie-talkie rises and falls on his chest, gripped by strong fingers.

  It’s a nice sight, but I don’t have time for nice sights right now.

  I dress in a jumper and jeans, then head to Bertie’s room.

  Oh shit.

  His bed is empty.

  I run out of his room, looking up and down the corridor.

  Something makes me think of the West Tower, and I head down the corridor towards it. Bertie’s hidden up there before. And I don’t think he could have left the castle. There’s security all over the place. Someone would have contacted Patrick.

  I scramble up the staircase.

  ‘Bertie, are you up here?’ I call.

  No answer.

  I try Jamie’s bedroom, but the door is locked.

  ‘Bertie?’

  I run towards May Mansfield’s bedroom and throw her door open, gasping for breath.

  May is sitting up in bed with a tray on her lap. It’s covered in matchsticks.

 
‘May. Has Bertie been up here?’

  ‘Good morning Seraphina,’ says May, without looking up. ‘Bertie left his room early this morning.’

  ‘Yes. I … how did you know?’

  ‘I have eyes. And ears. And a lot of time on my hands. You’d be amazed what you can find out just by watching and listening.’

  ‘Do you know what happened yesterday?’

  May nods, picking up a matchstick and dotting glue on the end. ‘I’m glad Anise and Bertie are back safe, but … my poor granddaughter. And Bertie … I can’t bear to think of what that little boy has gone through. My heart is broken. Completely broken. I won’t live much longer. The pain … it’s too much.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’

  ‘It’s the truth. I feel everything closing down. Getting dark.’

  ‘No May –’

  ‘Promise me something,’ says May.

  ‘Of course. Anything.’

  ‘Promise me you and Patrick will marry. I don’t want to die knowing nothing but sadness in this family. I want one joyful thing before I go. Just one. A wedding.’

  ‘May, I … I’m so sorry but I can’t promise that. Anyway, Patrick hasn’t asked me.’

  ‘But he will.’

  ‘Maybe one day.’

  ‘Can you imagine marrying Patrick?’

  ‘Yes. In my dreams. But in real life … I don’t know.’

  May smiles and reaches over to her bedside drawer. She pulls out a little box covered in tartan velvet. ‘Take this,’ she says, holding it out to me.

  I take the box from her gnarled, white fingers.

  ‘Thank you. Um … what is it?’ I ask.

  ‘A family heirloom. My old wedding ring. I want you to have it.’

  ‘May, I can’t possibly … if this is a family thing, it should go to someone in your family.’

  ‘You will be family one day. I’m sure of it. Please don’t argue. Just take it. I don’t want to die in my sleep and have it still sat in my bedside cabinet.’

  I hear a smashing sound from way down below, in the castle grounds.

  My ears prick up and I slip the box into my pocket.

  ‘Where is Bertie?’ I ask. ‘Do you know?’

  ‘In the kitchen garden,’ says May. ‘By the sounds of it he’s throwing rocks at plates.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘May … I’m sorry, I have to go. And I’m sorry I can’t make you that promise.’

  ‘You’re a good girl, Seraphina,’ says May. ‘But … I don’t think even you can help Bertie right now. He’s well and truly lost. He’s not a Mansfield anymore. We may have him here in body, but his mind is elsewhere. And before long, he’ll find his way back to where he belongs.’

  ‘You mean … are you saying he belongs with the Thorburns?’

  ‘Precisely.’

  ‘No. That can’t be right. I know he’s hurting. What he must have gone through … he must be so confused … but there’s always hope. When I first met him, they all said I couldn’t help him. But I did.’

  May glues two matchsticks together. ‘Some things can’t be fixed with glue. Some hurts run too deep. And if Bertie won’t talk … can you imagine how easy Dirk’s defence will be? If Bertie isn’t talking. All the defence have to prove is that Bertie is unstable. Unreliable.’

  ‘But the Calders … they kidnapped me. It’s an open and shut case.’

  ‘Perhaps for those two women. But what about Dirk? How do we prove anything?’

  I open and close my mouth. ‘We can’t,’ I say eventually.

  ‘Then he walks free.’

  ‘And Bertie will never feel safe again.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I helped Bertie before,’ I say. ‘I can help him again.’

  ‘Would you put him through a court case? After everything he’s been through?’

  ‘No,’ I admit. ‘That’s the last thing I’d want to do.’

  ‘So Dirk might walk free.’

  ‘Oh god.’ I put my head in my hands. ‘What a mess.’

  May puts the two matches down. ‘You’re a wonderful girl, Seraphina. Loving. Kind. Just the sort of person Bertie needed when he first came to the castle. But now things are different. Some wounds can never be healed.’

  118

  Down in the kitchen garden, Bertie has lined a load of plates up on the wall. He’s throwing rocks at them and watching them smash to the ground.

  ‘Morning Bertie,’ I say.

  He doesn’t look at me. Instead he picks up a particularly big rock and hurls it at a plate.

  ‘I know you’re angry,’ I say. ‘I know you’re afraid. I’m afraid too. But I still won’t give up on you. Ever. I never did leave you. You were taken from me. But from now on I’m going to stay by your side. Always. And we’re going to build back to where we were.’

  Bertie doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t turn. He doesn’t flinch. His mouth doesn’t move.

  It’s like May said – he looks lost.

  I feel the bulk of Patrick behind me.

  ‘Where did you come from?’ I ask.

  ‘Same place as you. Our bedroom. The bedroom you crept out of while I was sleeping.’

  ‘So you really were sleeping this time?’

  ‘Soundly. I usually do next to you. What’s this?’ Patrick reaches his hand around to my hip. He pats the hard little box in my pocket – the one May gave me.

  ‘Nothing gets past you, does it?’ I say, pulling the box out of my pocket. ‘May gave it to me. She said it was a family heirloom. She insisted I take it. I didn’t feel comfortable about that, though. I mean, shouldn’t someone in your family have it?’

  ‘If she wanted you to have it, she wanted you to have it. She’s still of sound mind. What she does with her things is up to her.’

  Bertie smashes the last plate and turns around. He sees me and Patrick. Then runs right past us into the kitchen.

  ‘Leave him,’ says Patrick, reaching out an arm to stop me following. ‘He needs time alone right now. Rab will keep an eye out.’

  I sense Patrick is right. Years of nannying have taught me when to help and when to stand back. And right now, I think Bertie needs his space.

  ‘Bertie’s hurting,’ I say, turning the box in my fingers. ‘Really hurting.’

  ‘I know,’ says Patrick, taking my hand. ‘It breaks my heart. And I can see it breaks your heart too.’

  He opens the kitchen garden gate. ‘Let’s go for a walk.’

  119

  ‘May says that Bertie’s lost,’ I say, walking through the gate with Patrick. ‘God Patrick – what are we going to do? May said that your father could walk free if Bertie won’t talk.’

  ‘May has a lot of time to think up there in her tower. Maybe too much time. Let’s focus on Bertie first. Worry about a court case later.’

  ‘May said she didn’t have much time left. That … that she thinks she might … pass away soon.’

  ‘The last few days have been a lot for a lady of her age to deal with.’

  We reach the trees, and to my delight Dan Dan comes running out.

  ‘Oh my god! Dan Dan!’ I kneel down to rough up his little ears and pull him to my chest in a wriggly cuddle. ‘You found your way home! You clever little thing. Oh I missed you. Yes I did! Yes I did.’

  I’m still holding the tartan velvet box and I juggle it around in my hands as I try to cuddle Dan Dan.

  Patrick kneels down too. ‘Well I never. The little mongrel came home again.’

  I find myself looking back at the castle, up towards the West Tower. I see a shadow at May’s window and know she’s watching us.

  ‘May asked me to promise her something,’ I say. ‘She said the family hadn’t given her much joy. And she asked … she said she’d like us to get married. So she could see something happy before she died.’

  Patrick raises an eyebrow. ‘Oh? And what did you say?’

  ‘I said I couldn’t promise her that.’

  ‘Why not?’

  �
�Because we’ve only just met.’ I feel a little smile prickle. ‘But I told her I could imagine marrying you. One day. In my dreams.’

  Gently Patrick takes my hand and kisses my fingers. ‘You know what’s in this box don’t you?’ he says.

  ‘Yes. May’s wedding ring.’

  ‘She’s shown it to me many times. Many, many times. She always told me my future wife could have it. As long as I married a redhead. Otherwise the sapphire won’t match.’

  I laugh. ‘That’s a bit specific.’

  ‘It worked out though, didn’t it?’

  ‘Did it?’ I loosen my grip on Dan Dan and he scurries away, sniffing the leaves around us.

  ‘Well I’m definitely marrying a redhead. No doubt about that.’

  ‘I suppose there are quite a few redheads in Scotland …’

  ‘Thousands. But the one I want isn’t from Scotland.’

  ‘Is she English?’ I ask, my smile growing.

  ‘Good guess.’ Patrick looks down at the ring. ‘This is bad timing. Terrible, terrible timing. The worst. And yet … I’m going to do it anyway.’

  ‘Patrick?’

  He opens up the box.

  Inside is the most dazzling blue-sapphire ring. It’s huge and sparkles like tropical water under the sun. The stone is square and cut in hundreds of places.

  Patrick takes my hand. ‘Seraphina Harper.’ He fixes me with his blue-green eyes. ‘Will you marry me?’

  I feel giddy. I think I might faint. Truly I think I might. But … after everything that’s happened with Bertie and Danny and Wila … I don’t even pause to think.

  I don’t ask myself the usual million questions. Are Patrick and I truly right for each other? Am I just a novelty for him? Can we work in the real world?

  Instead, I just go with my heart.

  ‘Yes,’ I say, feeling tears slide down my cheeks. ‘Yes, yes. A thousand times yes.’

  Want to hear more about Seraphina and Patrick?

  Heart of Ice will be released in Winter 2014.

  And guess what?

  The first 1000 copies of Heart of Ice will be absolutely free – for the readers who get there fast enough!

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