by S. B. Hayes
James gave me a sidelong glance and I wasn’t sure if he’d forgiven me yet. ‘Will you still help me?’ I asked. ‘You know the grounds so well.’
He nodded but still seemed distant. We sat for a few more minutes, both ill at ease. My arms were folded tight across my chest, while James was absorbed in picking particles of soil from his fingernails.
‘Have you everything you need in the gatehouse?’ he asked eventually.
I wondered if he was being funny. He must remember that I’d left Patrick’s flat with nothing. ‘Well … I don’t have any clothes or toiletries or … er … underwear.’
James smirked. ‘We’re not that different in height. I’ll pass some of my things over.’
I tried to banish the image of James taking off his clothes to hand them to me. ‘I wonder who lived there before. The place is immaculate, and I can still smell faint perfume.’
‘Sister Catherine,’ he answered simply.
For some reason this completely floored me. ‘Sister Catherine?’ I gasped. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
James looked puzzled. ‘Why would I?’
I was unusually flustered. ‘It’s just that … when we explored the priest’s hole you didn’t mention it.’
He screwed up his face. ‘I didn’t think it was a big deal.’
He was right. It wasn’t a big deal, but I still felt the need to ask: ‘When did she leave the gatehouse? Do you know?’
James blew out air unconcernedly. ‘A couple of days ago. She said it was time for her to go, and I helped her move a few things.’
‘Did she say why?’
‘She said we’d be having a new guest to stay and she needed to make room for her.’
My heart was racing. ‘She definitely said room for her?
‘Mmm … is that a problem?’
‘No problem,’ I whispered hoarsely.
Twenty-Seven
Sister Catherine hadn’t known I was going to stay in the gatehouse. How could she? I was just being paranoid. She probably invited guests to stay all the time and it was nothing to do with me. Even so, my stomach fluttered with disquiet. And what about James? I’d messed things up between us so badly, but it wasn’t too late. Why didn’t I just go to him? My heartbeat was driving me crazy. I covered it with one hand, but that did nothing to quell the relentless boom that sounded out my loneliness, my desire to be with him and every miserable second that I wasn’t. Why didn’t James come to me? Because he didn’t know the reason why I’d given him the brush-off and probably thought I was horrible. I could leave the gatehouse now in the moonlight, walk to the main house and throw stones at his window. It was that easy, so why didn’t I just do it?
It was after midnight when I finally got off to sleep. I dreamed that I was standing in front of a row of identical wooden doors, holding Patrick’s key. I inserted it into the first lock and the door opened on to an empty space, pristinely white and clinical. In despair, I ran to the next one. When I looked into the distance the doors had joined in a circle and I was back to the beginning. But I couldn’t stop looking. It felt as if this fruitless search went on all night. In despair I began to bang on the wood with my fists.
I sat bolt upright in bed, my heart thumping with the impact of the dream. I flinched. The knocking on the door was real and James was shouting my name. I looked around for something to put on. Wrapping the white cotton bed sheet around me I stumbled into the bathroom, rinsed my mouth with toothpaste and hurried to open the door.
‘You look like Eurydice.’ James smiled, taking in my makeshift robe. He offered me another basket of food. ‘It’s after nine. You were still zonked.’
I didn’t ask how he knew this, because there was only one way. The gatehouse was tiny, and the flimsy curtains didn’t meet properly – he must have looked in on me while I was sleeping. I put the basket down, catching the sheet just before it slipped off. ‘I didn’t bring a dressing gown, or a towel,’ I said shyly.
James produced a carrier bag from behind his back. ‘There’s a towel in here, and the other things I promised.’ I muttered an embarrassed thank-you. He walked about ten metres and couldn’t resist looking back, his eyes half-closed in the sun. Now was the time to say something. I could run into his arms, remembering to keep hold of the sheet. I was so full of yearning that I was dumbstruck and stood like an idiot looking at him. James gave me a regretful smile and turned to go. I watched him walk away, hurt rising in my throat. This was how it would feel when he left to go back home, and I made up my mind right there and then not to watch him go. My heart would stop beating with the pain.
But he wasn’t on his way back to Australia. He was only walking to the main house. Another golden opportunity wasted. Why was I so inert, so incapable of seizing happiness? I knew he still had feelings for me. He couldn’t make it any more obvious. What had happened to my determination to capture every moment?
With a huge adrenalin rush, I slammed the door shut, emptied James’s bag on to the floor and snatched up a pair of long shorts and a sports vest. It took no more than thirty seconds to wriggle into them and slip on my trainers. James had only a small head start but he was already out of sight. With my long legs I had always been good at sprinting and was confident of catching him easily. But I ran and ran, giddy with my own nerve, until I reached the place where the trees thinned out and I could see the house and forecourt. He wasn’t in front of me. I looked all around and he wasn’t anywhere. My chest hurt and I was furious with myself again. He must have gone another way.
I limped back towards the gatehouse, my heart in the pit of my stomach, and came face to face with Eurydice. ‘I’ve lost him again,’ I said. I touched her face but couldn’t feel the delicate bumpy tears. Weird. The marble was completely smooth.
‘Why did I let him go?’ I moaned. ‘And why am I asking you? You’re just a lump of stone.’
I stared into her blank eyes, pathetically looking for a reaction. I even touched her nose with mine, willing her to give me an answer. ‘You don’t know how it feels to even have a heart,’ I told her scornfully.
‘No, but I do.’
I almost jumped into the air as James spoke. I turned around to see him appear from behind a tree.
‘What are you doing?’ I asked shakily.
‘Waiting for you, Sinead. Why were you running?’
James was advancing towards me, his face serious and intense. Pathetically I began to back away, squeaking, ‘You didn’t bring any … milk.’
‘And that’s the reason you came rushing after me?’
‘Yes,’ I fibbed.
‘Who have you lost, Sinead?’
I didn’t reply, and my retreat ended when I bumped against the statue. My hands reached out and clasped her cold dress. ‘Her tears have disappeared,’ I said, puzzled. ‘They were there the other day.’
‘You know that’s impossible.’ James was now only inches from my face. ‘You haven’t lost me,’ he whispered. ‘I’ve been waiting since I first set eyes on you.’ His arms extended to embrace Eurydice, trapping me between them both. ‘Don’t tell me to go again.’
I shook my head and glanced down to study her feet with their perfect toes. He put a hand under my chin, forcing me to look at him.
‘Will you stay with me?’
‘I’ll stay with you,’ I echoed.
‘For how long?’
‘Forever,’ I answered lightly.
‘That’s what I wanted to hear,’ James said. He inclined his head to mine and pinned me against the marble statue. I couldn’t have moved anyway, but I didn’t want to. This time was different; this time there was no distance or uncertainty between us. It wasn’t just the kiss that made my body melt; the honesty of it reached deep into my weary soul. I should have trusted my instincts before – this was impossible to fake. When we pulled apart I tried to explain about seeing him with that girl, but he barely listened, just greedily kissed my lips between each word.
I felt a huge pang, realizing h
ow bittersweet this was because time was so short for us. ‘I won’t watch you leave,’ I told him fiercely. ‘I won’t watch you walk away from me.’
James took my hand and placed it across his heart. ‘I can’t leave you, no matter where I go or what I do. Do you understand?’
I was drawn into his eyes again and saw everything that I’d ever wanted from life but hadn’t known existed. I was overwhelmed by the knowledge that this was mine and I would jealously guard it. No one would cut short our time together. If anyone tried, they’d have a fight on their hands.
*
The rest of the day passed in a kind of dreamy haze. Thought was impossible and speech incoherent. Sister Catherine might have given me instructions or she might have just moved her lips. I worked like a machine, with no idea how I was functioning. My limbs seemed not to belong to my body and I looked at them in bewilderment. The feeling of separation from James was already acute, but there was a consolation: I was wearing his clothes and they still carried his scent. Each time I breathed, he was with me. This was how love or madness felt, or maybe both.
At the first opportunity I walked straight out of the house towards the flower garden. Anticipation flooded through me, but when I was about halfway there something changed and a sense of bereavement, like nothing I’d ever known, overwhelmed me. I ran the rest of the way, terrified that James had gone. But he was still there, beautifully introspective and busy tilling away at the soil. The relief was overwhelming and I took a minute to watch him work. I was perfectly quiet, but he must have sensed that something had changed and looked up. He noticed me and put down the hoe. We didn’t speak but stayed a distance apart like two blocks of stone. I couldn’t hold out as long as he could and walked into his arms.
We sat on the rickety bench, touching each other’s faces before settling into a long, lingering kiss. In the extreme quiet of this place, summer made a noise beyond the birdsong, a heavy and sultry hum of its own. Even the heat had a kind of vibration. It was such a balmy evening that we stayed outside and didn’t think about food. No matter how much we kissed I couldn’t get enough of him, and it was so secluded here that all my inhibitions seemed to disappear. I traced my fingers against the roughness of his chin and felt the hard line of his jaw. My lips grazed his cheeks and caressed the beautiful groove above his mouth before moving down to his neck. I kissed from his ear to his collarbone and tasted salty sweat. My hair brushed his chest and I felt him shudder. I changed position because my body was aching to get closer to him. My long legs straddled him and I arched my back as he kissed my throat. The heat from us was enough to start a blaze. I turned my head to one side and he lightly blew on the back of my neck as my body twisted into him. My T-shirt had ridden up and I heard him groan as our bare skin touched. The oppressive heat only increased my desire; I felt intoxicated and filled with complete abandonment.
James was watching me attentively and the tension was too much to bear. I traced one finger along his arm and stopped at his wrist, feeling his pulse quickening. Every part of me was throbbing, waiting for him to make that move, the one that crossed the line between what we were doing now and what we were about to do. I thought I’d made it clear to James what I wanted, but I felt as if he needed some kind of definite sign. I wasn’t sure if I was brave enough to say the words.
When I eventually spoke my voice was scratchy and my face stayed firmly buried in his chest. ‘We could … go back to the gatehouse. You don’t have to leave tonight. I mean … you could … stay … with me –’
James stood up suddenly. I adjusted my clothes and tried to look nonchalant, but inside I was burning with embarrassment.
James wouldn’t look at me, but I heard him say without the slightest doubt, ‘That’s not a good idea, Sinead. I couldn’t trust myself.’
Twenty-Eight
I thumped the pillow so hard that the filling separated and left me with uneven lumps and bumps that hurt my head. Couldn’t trust himself. The only worse thing James could have said was that he respected me too much. I’d thrown myself at him and he couldn’t accept because he had scruples and moral fortitude and other totally annoying qualities. Sleep was difficult, and when it eventually came it was filled with tortured dreams about James in which he had absolutely no morals at all. I was desperate to see him again and woke early. I waited impatiently by the window until I saw him approach the gatehouse, and I opened the door before he could reach it. We were both a little awkward after last night, and when he discovered I still intended to work his face fell.
‘You’re not serious?’ he asked. ‘Spend the day with me, Sinead. You know we don’t that have much …’ He stopped abruptly and the word time was left unsaid. I was grateful.
I rested my cheek against his, my fingers tugging at his hair, now torn between duty and desire. ‘I can’t forget about Patrick,’ I said. ‘Sister Catherine’s won, and she knows it. She told me I’d have to work for fourteen days before I found my answers. Without any other clues from Patrick, I can’t do anything else.’
James stroked my neck and sent an immediate shiver down my spine. He screwed his mouth in deliberation. ‘I’ll help you then. We’ll get through the work more quickly together.’
‘I have to do this alone,’ I answered carefully. ‘It feels like this is my task, and my task only.’ My furrowed brow indicated that I didn’t even understand this myself.
I expected James to protest again, but he cupped my face in his hands and brought it closer to his. The moment before we kissed was always the best; the expectancy and longing made everything feel as if it was happening in slow motion. As our lips met my hands clutched the back of his head and my body moulded into his. We fitted together perfectly, two parts of the same whole. I smiled to myself, thinking that he must have changed his mind about leaving last night and was intent on making up for it now. With one swift movement James backed me up against the wall, one of his legs pressed between mine. Delicious sensations coursed through my body. I dropped a hand and snaked it under his T-shirt, my fingers walking across his back, feeling it ripple. My mind was momentarily clouded by a blissful image of James taking me in his arms and carrying me into the bedroom. He would stare at me with his gorgeous hazel eyes before …
But the dream ended as abruptly as before. James disentangled himself and gave a forced cough. ‘I didn’t realize the time, Sinead. We should go now – Sister Catherine is probably waiting.’
*
Sister Catherine is probably waiting. What difference would a few minutes make? All she ever did was wait. And why was James so reluctant? Was it me? Maybe I was doing everything wrong. I sucked in my cheeks, pondering the issue as we made our way towards the main house. We parted by the steps to the entrance.
Sister Catherine was waiting for me just inside, but I was taken aback because she was looking inexplicably … pleasant.
‘Good morning, Sinead.’
This was the first time she had greeted me politely, and I was convinced that she was still gloating about getting me back here. Weirdly she didn’t give me any instructions, which meant I was free to work wherever I liked. But I didn’t even think of slacking off. I flew through the house as if I had wings. If this was the only way to find out what had happened to Patrick, then I was ready to knuckle down to the job.
When I caught up with James again we navigated the estate, trying to map out the likeliest places for a church to be positioned. I think we both knew deep down we were unlikely to find any remains. The passing centuries would have erased all trace, but I remained alert for further clues. I agreed with my mother: Patrick would never break off completely. His ego wouldn’t allow him to.
The sun was at its highest and James was definitely struggling with the heat.
‘Still tired?’ I asked with concern.
‘I’m much better here,’ he answered slowly. ‘Back home I was hanging around, waiting to … recover.’
I looked at him doubtfully. His tan was fading and he seemed to gr
ow paler by the day.
‘Fancy cooling off?’ he said, wiping his brow. ‘I know a little place.’
I thought he was flirting, until he wiped my cheek and showed me the dirt on his hand. I was as grubby as a street urchin. As we cut through the trees my hand wormed into his and I felt his thumb digging into my palm. This path was denser than anywhere he’d previously taken me, and bright emerald moss stained the ground. Our hips bumped together as we tried to walk two abreast. I could smell water before we arrived, that slightly moist scent of decaying vegetation. The ground grew softer and my trainers stuck in places.
‘It isn’t exactly a lake,’ he said, ‘more a pond.’
‘I knew there was water here,’ I exclaimed. ‘I saw steam rising and heard a bubbling noise.’
‘Hardly.’ He laughed. ‘This is the coolest part of the estate. The summer’s been so hot the water level’s dropped, but it’s OK for a dip.’
I still hesitated. There was the dilemma of taking off my clothes. Underneath I was wearing a perfectly sensible bra and a pair of James’s boxer shorts, which were surprisingly comfortable, but I still felt self-conscious. James bent down and rubbed some mud between his thumb and finger before smearing two streaks of earth on either side of my face.
‘Now you have to come in.’
He waded in, cutting through the surface. The water was deeper than I’d expected, up to his waist. When his back was turned I ripped off my T-shirt and cut-offs and followed him. My toes gingerly wrapped around stones and some kind of pondweed but it was shockingly cool and refreshing. I crouched down, trying to hide my semi-nakedness, but James pulled me up again and looked down at me admiringly. He bent his head to nibble my skin from my throat down to my navel. He cupped water over my hair and pushed it back off my forehead. Droplets ran down my face and into my mouth as I kissed him.