Resisting Mr Rochester

by Sharon Booth

  Briony and Joel were arm in arm as they left the house. Briony barely glanced in Ethan's direction, merely waving her hand airily and heading down the steps towards her car. Joel, however, shook Ethan's hand eagerly.

  "Good time?" Ethan drawled, raising an eyebrow in obvious amusement.

  "You don't mind, do you?" Joel asked, sounding anxious. "I know you invited her here to seduce her—"

  Ethan coughed. "Er, who told you that?"

  "She did. It's all right, Ethan. I totally understand. She's amazing, isn't she? But the fact is, I've loved her for such a long time—"

  "You don't say? You kept that quiet!"

  It was obvious to me that Ethan was all too aware of the fact, and it dawned on me that he'd set them up deliberately. I remembered his remark about Cupid, and how he'd insisted that Joel teach Briony how to play pool. Had his flirting with her been an attempt to coax Joel into action? Despite everything, I felt quite warmly towards him for that. Joel was obviously mad about Briony, and Ethan had made it happen. What a shame, I reminded myself sternly, that he was also a liar and … and—and what? I had no idea. I only knew that there was something extremely weird going on, and it concerned the mysterious Antonia Rochester, and whoever that Faith woman was.

  "So, are we good?" Joel persisted.

  Ethan smiled and held out his hand. "We're good, Joel. You're still my favourite cousin."

  Joel grinned back at him. "Hey, I'm your only cousin! All the same, thanks, Ethan. Great party."

  "You're welcome. Good luck with Briony. Hope it all works out well."

  Joel practically floated over to Briony's car, where she made a great show of wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him in a quite disgustingly graphic way. Sending a look of contempt Ethan’s way, she climbed into her car and started the engine. Joel rushed over to his own car, gave a last cheery wave to us, then drove off following closely behind her.

  As the last of the guests disappeared through the gates, Ethan heaved a sigh of relief and slumped against the doorframe. "Thank God that's over with."

  "You didn't want this party, at all, did you?" I said, folding my arms and watching him curiously.

  He shook his head. "That obvious? No, I hate all this sort of thing, but people had been nagging me to show them this place for ages, and when I realised it would be the perfect way to throw Joel and Briony together, it seemed like a great solution to multiple problems. Everyone's seen the house now, so they'll hopefully shut up about it. Joel has finally got the love of his life, God help him, and Briony—"

  "Will finally leave you alone?" I raised an eyebrow, and he laughed.

  "That's the plan. She'll be all right with Joel. He's far more suited to her than I am, and he's not short of a bob, or two. He'll be able to fund the lifestyle she so desperately wants, and he'll be far more accommodating towards her than I ever would have been."

  "Was it ever on the cards?" I said. "You and Briony, I mean?"

  "Of course not!" He looked at me, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Did you think it was?"

  "You were flirting with her all evening." Damn, why had I said that? He'd know I'd been watching them.

  "All part of the plan," he said.

  "To make Joel take action?"

  "That, too," he said. He stared at me a moment, then shook his head. "Briony's really not my type."

  "And, of course, you're a married man," I pointed out, watching him shrewdly.

  His face stiffened. "Of course. Yes."

  Huh! So much for the honourable Ethan Rochester. Sometimes, it seemed as if he'd completely forgotten he had a wife. I mean, okay, I sometimes forgot, too, but come on, it wasn't me who'd made the vows, was it?

  As I turned to go back inside, he followed me in. "Your mother's going to brave the outside world," I told him coolly. "She's asked me to accompany her and Adele, perhaps tomorrow, or the day after. She feels ready to face everyone with a bit of makeup at last."

  "I know. I saw her earlier. She asked me to go, too. Is that all right with you?"

  "Why wouldn't it be?" I turned towards the stairs.

  "Where are you going?" he asked. "We've got the house to ourselves now. Apart from my mother, I mean."

  I faced him, my bemusement at his remark obviously showing, as he said, somewhat uncertainly, "I mean, if you're bored, we can do something? I don't know. Go for a walk, watch a film?" He moved towards me, his hand on my shoulder. "Cara, I—"

  "No thanks," I said quickly, before I lost all sense of reason. "I won't interrupt you. Besides, don't you have another guest to see to?" It was a cheap shot, and he looked baffled.

  "Sorry?"

  "I heard someone else had arrived. Some man. Marcus, was it?"

  "Who told you that?" His hand dropped to his side, as undeniable anxiety entered his eyes.

  I shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. I heard it somewhere. Where is he?"

  "Gone." He sounded bleak. "It was a brief visit. Business. It's done now." He looked totally defeated, and forgetting all my common sense, my heart melted.

  "I see," I murmured, even though I didn't. I stared up at him, and, without warning, he cupped my chin with his hand, tilting my face towards him, then he lowered his head and kissed me lightly on the lips.

  I couldn’t help it. Even though my mind screamed at me to push him away, my heart demanded more. I kissed him back, and he responded, his hands cradling my face as we stood there together, and suddenly I was in a different place, in a whole new awareness that scared the life out of me.

  As if my fear communicated itself to him, he let me go and stepped back. "That wasn't—I shouldn't—I'm sorry, Cara."

  He turned and strode into the sitting room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

  He was sorry? Not half as sorry as I was.

  I stood there, dazed, my fingers touching my bruised lips. God, I was an idiot. Ethan Rochester couldn't be trusted, and neither, quite clearly, could my foolish heart.

  Chapter Twenty

  Lying on my bed, my head felt on the verge of exploding. Not only did I have to puzzle out that kiss—oh, that kiss!—but I was also trying to work out why Ethan would keep a dying man from his daughter, and what reason he had for lying to Antonia's cousin when, clearly, he knew where she was.

  I kept telling myself that none of it mattered. What was Ethan to me, anyway, except my employer? He'd clearly regretted kissing me, and I needed to forget it. Besides, he was married, and what went on between him and his wife, or their families, for that matter, was nothing to do with me. I had to put that moment of madness behind me, concentrate on my job, be professional.

  I wondered if Adele was enjoying herself in Bridlington. I thought about Jennifer, lying in her room across the hall, apparently not even missing her little girl. How weird and unfair that someone like her could get pregnant so carelessly, when I'd been denied the chance to be a mother. Because I knew, no matter how much Jennifer insisted it was still possible, that I would never have a baby of my own. Seth had made sure of that by refusing to even consider it, while through all those years, my eggs had slowly deteriorated and my chances of conceiving grew fainter. It was all right saying plenty of women had babies in their thirties, but for that, they needed a man, and since I had no intention of becoming entangled with one of those ever again, I was pretty much stuck.

  Needing to snap out of my miserable mood, I picked up my phone and tapped the Facebook icon.

  Scrolling through my timeline, I pulled a face at all the boring rubbish and click bait posted on there, wondering why I even bothered with it anymore. I'd once used it to see what my siblings were up to, but since our relationships had improved—especially with Tamsin—I didn't feel uneasy about picking up the phone to call her any longer. Maybe social media had run its course for me.

  Tamsin had posted earlier that day.

  Chilled glass of prosecco while the girls are ice skating! Dinner and movie tonight! Looking forward to it!

  Dinner and movie? Was B
rad back? Hopeful, I clicked ‘like’ and commented:

  Sounds great. So happy for you! Xx

  Before I'd even put the phone down, it rang in my hand, Tamsin's name flashing up on screen.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" she demanded, when I answered the call.

  "What's what supposed to mean?"

  "You're happy for me! Are you taking the mickey, or what?"

  "Of course not! I assumed you were going out with Brad. Am I wrong?"

  "Of course you're wrong," she snapped. "I've told you, Brad and I are over for good."

  "Then, who—?"

  "The girls, of course," she said. "I didn't specify I was going out, did I? I'm cooking a paella for dinner, and we're watching a DVD of Pete's Dragon. It will be fun."

  "Oh, well, I'm sorry," I said. "Just that it sounded as if you were going on a date."

  "Yes, well." She was quiet for a moment. "Honestly, I was kind of hoping Brad would think so, too."

  "Ah. I see."

  "Stupid idea, right?"

  "Understandable, Tamsin," I reassured her. "And I'm sure, if he sees it, he'll be overwhelmed with jealousy and rage."

  She sighed. "No he won't. He'll see straight through me. I'll delete it."

  I didn't know what to say. I'd been hoping Tamsin would cheer me up, but evidently not.

  "Any news on the psycho knifeman?" she enquired.

  "None. I think it must have been one of the guests," I said, though I was far from convinced. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more confused I became. There were far too many mysteries in Moreland Hall. What if they were all connected, somehow? But how?

  "Hey, have you heard from Redmond?" she asked, suddenly sounding enthusiastic.

  "No. Should I have done?"

  "I was kind of hoping you had, since the wretch hasn't contacted me," she admitted. "You won't believe this. He's walked out on Susan."

  "You're kidding!" She was right. I couldn’t believe it. Solid, reliable Redmond, abandoning his wife! "Since when?"

  "A couple of days ago, apparently. I only found out this morning, because Susan's been slagging him off all over Facebook. You're not friends with her on there, are you?"

  "No," I shuddered. "Not after she tagged me in that post, just to impress her friends."

  "Sounds about right. Well, apparently, they had a screaming row, and it got a bit heated, and he told her he was leaving her. She didn't believe it, but the next thing she knew, he'd packed a suitcase and gone. And the thing is, she has no idea where."

  "I haven't heard a word from him," I said, feeling quite hurt.

  "Don't take it personally. Neither have I. I don't think he's got a key to Mum and Dad's. either, so he can't have gone there."

  "Have you got a key?" I asked, astonished.

  "Well, yes," she admitted. "Only in case anything happens to them, and we need to get in. It's just because I live closest to them, that's all."

  "Yeah. Sure." I could feel the hurt unfurling inside me, all over again.

  "It is, Cara. Honestly. Don't do that thing again."

  "What thing?" I said indignantly.

  "That victim thing you do," she said. "You know. That whole nobody loves me thing. It's ever so annoying."

  "Charming," I said. "Can I help it if I'm not made to feel welcome in my own family?"

  "You were the one who left," she reminded me. "And you were the one who stayed away."

  "You didn't exactly flock to visit."

  "Can you blame us? Seth made it pretty clear that we weren't wanted, and you never rang, or got in touch to tell us any different. Anyway," she added, "I thought we'd got past all that? You're back in the fold now. You're just as much part of this family as I am, and that being the case, what do we do about Redmond?"

  "What can we do?" I said. "Tie him up and force him to go home?"

  "Hell, no!" I could hear the disgust in her voice. "I wouldn't wish that on the poor sod. I just mean, how do we make sure he's all right?"

  "Oh, God," I said feeling sick, "you don't think he'd do anything stupid?"

  "The thing is, he's had years of being bullied and worn down by that tyrant. Who's to say how low he's sunk? It must have been a pretty big argument for him to find the guts to leave her at last."

  "Have you tried to call him?"

  "Of course. Repeatedly. He's not picking up his phone. He's also deactivated his Facebook account. Gosh, I hope that bitch hasn't killed him and buried him under the patio." She giggled.

  "Well, I'm glad you find it funny," I said.

  "It was a joke," she said. "Honestly, Cara, where's your sense of humour? Even Susan wouldn't go that far."

  I wasn't so sure. I wasn't sure about anyone's true character anymore. My judgement seemed off. I seemed to be surrounded by missing people. Not that you can be surrounded by missing people, because, after all, they're missing, but you know what I mean.

  "Will you let me know if you hear from him?"

  "Of course. And you let me know if you hear from him," she said, although I couldn't imagine he'd contact me before her. "I haven't told Mum and Dad. Thought I'd leave them to enjoy the rest of their holiday in peace. They'll be home soon, and then they're going to be attacked on all fronts. Bad enough Brad showing his true colours, but their little prince walking out on his wife will be a huge shock to them."

  I had to agree it would. Better to leave them in blissful ignorance for the time being.

  I said goodbye to Tamsin and lay down on the bed, but as soon as I had, the phone beeped again, and I lifted it up quickly, in the vain hope that maybe Redmond had got in touch, after all.

  No such luck. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me." I groaned, seeing that I had a new text from Seth. That was all I needed.

  I wait. Alone, unloved. A half-life.

  The heart is stabbed with each lonely breath.

  Forgotten. Condemned to a living death.

  Your indifference cuts like a jagged knife.

  One walks in sunlight, midst sweet-scented flowers.

  One lies in shadows, and curses the hours.

  I've told Isolde that I can't buy into the business with her, and she's cool with it. She's said we can have the box room, and she won't charge much rent. It's our best bet, really. The council won't help, I don't think. They seem to take a dim view of rent arrears. How much longer do we have to play this game, Cara? Time for home. Please. xx

  Just leave me alone, Seth, I thought. I really can't give you what you want. The question was, what did he want? I'd honestly thought he'd have forgotten all about me by then, but it seemed he was more persistent than I'd ever imagined. But why? It couldn't be love, because he didn't love me. I was sure of that, if nothing else. Need? Perhaps. But he had Isolde ready and waiting to step into my shoes and take care of him, and she could do that in far more comfortable surroundings than I could ever manage, so what was stopping him? And Isolde must have been mad about him if she was willing to let me live in that flat with them. As if I'd ever want to do that! Maybe that was what she was counting on. No maybe about it, really. It was obvious. Isolde's motives were clear, but Seth's were very murky indeed.

  I felt a pang of guilt at the way I’d left things. I should call him. Set him straight. Make it very clear to him that there was no way I was coming back. But I just couldn't do it. I couldn't bear the thought of speaking to him. I was finished with that part of my life, and I couldn't face going back to it, even if only for a moment, or two. Bad enough reading his texts. Having to speak to him would finish me off.

  On a sudden impulse, I typed a quick message.

  Seth, I'm really sorry that you're struggling with what's happened between us, but the fact is, I'm not coming back. Not ever. The relationship we had was never going to work. We are two different people, and we only make each other unhappy. We want different things, and there's no way to reconcile our needs. I wish you every happiness, but please don't text me again, as I won't reply. In fact, I think it best if I just block
your number, and that way you can get on with your life and I'll get on with mine. Be happy, Seth. Cara. xx

  I studied it for a moment, deleted the kisses as I didn't want to give him the wrong idea—knowing Seth, he would only focus on those rather than the words—and then pressed send. As soon as the message sent notification appeared, I went into my contacts list and blocked his number.

  Heaving a huge sigh of relief, I lay down again, closed my eyes, and, without even meaning to, fell fast asleep.

  #

  I wasn't sure of the time when I opened my eyes. It wasn't dark, so that was something. I wondered if Mrs F, Michael and Adele were back, and strained my ears for the sound of voices. All was quiet, though, and I closed my eyes again for a moment.

  I really would have to go downstairs and face Ethan at some point, though my stomach churned with nerves at the thought. Then I heard it, the same faint sound of something moving above me.

  Bats? I didn't think so! I lay there, wondering whether to brave the attics alone. The thought of rats didn't really appeal to me, though, and what if they were running rampant up there?

  Dare I ask Ethan to take a look? Would he think I'd gone insane?

  At a dull thud, right above my head, I bolted up, terrified. That did it! Whatever was up there had to be chased away. Whatever my mixed feelings about Ethan, I would have to tell him.

  I shot out onto the landing, just as Jennifer popped her head round her door, looking a bit puzzled.

  "Did you hear it?" I demanded.

  "Something's in the attics," she confirmed. "There was a distinct thud. Fetch Ethan."

  I didn't need telling twice. I shot downstairs and practically collided with him, when he walked out of the sitting room just as I was about to run in.