The Persecution of the Wolves

by Lucy Felthouse

  “Isaac, I love you!”

  In the blink of an eye, Isaac whirled around, descended on Nathaniel and slammed his fist into Nathaniel’s face so hard his head snapped back. Matthew reached his brother a millisecond too late to prevent it, but it didn’t matter. Isaac was done. His hands dropped to his sides, and although his body language wasn’t exactly relaxed, he no longer appeared murderous.

  Nathaniel’s nose was obviously broken. Blood poured down his face. He spat a load of it onto the floor, struggled to breathe.

  “This changes nothing, Isaac. I’ll love you until the day I die.”

  Matthew peered between his brother and Nathaniel, even as his heart broke for the relationship Isaac had so desperately wanted, had finally got, only for it to be ripped away. Nathaniel looked hopeful, earnest, beneath the blood covering the lower half of his face and streaming onto his clothes.

  Isaac stared at Nathaniel for several long moments. Christ, surely he wasn’t relenting?

  After pulling in a deep breath then releasing it, Isaac turned to his brother, his expression grim. “Get me out of here, Matthew, before the day he dies comes sooner than he expected.”

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Isaac waited for his brother to react. He could scarcely believe he hadn’t gone and added something else to the punch he’d already landed on Nathaniel’s no-longer-perfect face. Perhaps he would now, just to get it in before the authorities arrived.

  Instead, Matthew glanced over at Richard. “Over to you now, mate. Do what you’ve got to do, and know we’re grateful. We’re grateful to all of you,” he added, looking around at the rest of the group. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going home to get horribly drunk. I wouldn’t advise interrupting us—it won’t be a pretty sight.” He shouldered the backpack, which had been tossed to the floor in the scuffle.

  Nobody replied. Isaac wasn’t surprised—what was there to say? He couldn’t think of a single word, so he turned and left the church, with Matthew following close behind. He didn’t look at Nathaniel again, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. To remind him that he’d once cared deeply about him. Especially now those feelings were gone, completely gone, as if they had never been.

  Deep down, he was sure it wasn’t as simple as that, but a numbness had set in. Shock, he supposed. Yes, that’d be it. He was a doctor—he knew these things. It was just that his brain wasn’t functioning the way it should, wasn’t providing him with the information he needed. Shrugging to himself, he decided it didn’t matter. Right now, he didn’t need information. He needed to get home. Matthew’s idea of getting horribly drunk was a stroke of genius. Drinking until all the crap was blotted out, then passing out wherever they sat. They’d deal with the fallout in the morning.

  It wasn’t big or clever. But in spite of their animal sides, they were human, too. And humanity could only deal with so much. What they’d put up with over the past few months went above and beyond that threshold, and finding out Nathaniel had been behind it all—well, that had put the threshold out of sight.

  Yes, bliss was in the bottom of a bottle.

  They strode through the village side by side, not speaking, not making eye contact with each other or anyone else. It was clear they were giving off keep-away vibes, as they passed several villagers who silently got out of their way. Had word started to spread already? Isaac decided he didn’t care—everyone was going to find out eventually. Find out he’d been so stupid, had trusted someone, loved someone, only to be betrayed in the worst possible way.

  “You’re not stupid, Isaac. None of this is your fault.”

  Isaac hadn’t realised he’d spoken out loud. “Maybe not, but it won’t stop people thinking I’ve been a total fool.”

  “Fuck what people think.” His tone brooked no argument, and Isaac had nothing to say anyway. He continued to bask in the numbness that had spread through him, and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. The sooner he got home, the sooner he could start drinking.

  Finally, they arrived home, and Matthew let them in with the key he’d retrieved from the backpack. Matthew dropped the bag on the floor and strode straight into the kitchen, where he opened a cupboard and rummaged around for something secreted at the back. He turned, a wry expression on his face, and brandished the item he’d uncovered. A brand-new bottle of very expensive whisky.

  “I was hoping we’d be drinking this to celebrate, not to commiserate. I can’t believe it didn’t occur to me that we’d get hurt in all of this. Finding out who did it, I mean. Obviously, the whole thing has hurt us, but I expected to be happy when we found out who it was. Happy they’d been caught, stopped, and would be prevented from doing anything like it ever again. But I’m not. I’m fucking devastated, so I can’t even begin to imagine how you’re feeling.”

  “You know what, brother? I can’t imagine how I’m feeling either. I’m in shock at the moment, I think. So why don’t you open that whisky and let me get plastered before I crack and all the pain comes rushing in? I’m not ready to deal with it, not yet. I know I’ll have to at some point, but it’s still all so raw—”

  “Hey,” Matthew said gently, moving over and squeezing Isaac’s shoulder. “You don’t have to explain to me. I’m here for you, whatever you want to do. If you want to talk, to cry, to scream, to shout, to beat the shit out of someone… I’m here. Now let’s get you that drink.”

  He retrieved two glasses from the cupboard and put them down on the worktop. He opened the bottle and filled both glasses to the brim. Screw all that two fingers crap. They needed oblivion, and they needed it soon. He didn’t even bother to put the cap back on the bottle.

  “Here you go, mate,” Matthew said, handing a glass to Isaac, who took it with a grateful smile. “Christ, if I’d known how this would all turn out, I’d have bought two bottles. We could have just necked one each instead of sharing.”

  “I’m sure there’s more booze in the house. We’re just starting out with the particularly good stuff. I’d say cheers, but it doesn’t seem right somehow.” Isaac turned and headed for the living room. Once there, he slumped into the nearest chair. Immediately, he gulped down the whisky, revelling in the burning sensation as it exploded across his taste buds, then travelled down his throat. “Hey, Matthew, you’d better bring the bottle.”

  A moment later, Matthew settled into the chair next to his brother and placed the whisky on the table. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” Isaac snatched up the bottle and refilled his glass.

  “It’s good stuff, this,” Matthew said.

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re not in the mood to talk then, brother? No worries if not, just let me know what you want me to do. What I can do to help.”

  Isaac sighed, then downed his second glass. “Help? Help!” Damn, it seemed the numbness was leaving him. Predictably, it was being replaced by anger. “There’s nothing in this world you can do to help me. Not unless you can turn back the clock or erase my memory. Someone tried to fuck us over, brother, and what did I do? I damn well fell in love with him, didn’t I? I tried so hard not to, but it happened anyway. And just as we worked things out, figured out a way to be together despite all the obstacles, I found out he was the one targeting us. I really thought we had something, thought he loved me. But it turned out that all along he was just trying to hurt me.”

  Tentatively, Matthew said, “I don’t think he was, not really. There’s absolutely no excuse for what he did, both to us and to you specifically, but as much as he’s lied and schemed, when he said he loved you, I believed him. I really did. It’s just… I think you were right when you said he was mentally ill. The guy’s clearly got something wrong upstairs, which made him act the way he did. Made him so sure he was doing the right thing, forced him to see his plan through to the end even when he became my friend and your lover.”

  “I should have fucking known! All the theories we came up with about who could be doing it and why. I thought it was somebo
dy you’d been involved with. It never even occurred to me to look at who I was involved with. I was so blind to the fact it had to be a long-standing villager, and probably blind to the fact that Nathaniel would ever do such a thing, that it didn’t even enter my head. I was stupid, so fucking stupid. That tattoo, those damn books…”

  “What do you mean?” Matthew asked before refilling his own glass.

  “It’s all falling into place now. He’s got a tattoo… well, you don’t need to know where, but he’s got this wolf inked onto him. When I first saw it, I asked about it, and he just came up with some excuse. Said he was young and got it on a whim, that it didn’t mean anything. Then, not long ago, we were in his bedroom and there were some really old, leather-bound books on the bed. We were, uh, kinda busy, so I didn’t look at them, but I wanted to ask about them and never got the chance. It’s bloody obvious now what they were. The diaries. He’d been reading the damn things that very day, before we—”

  “Okay, I see where you’re coming from. But it still doesn’t make you stupid. If it does, we both were. And Richard, Alex… everyone. Everything pointed to a villager in the know. How were we ever to know that Nathaniel had ancestors from Eyam? We still don’t know who they were. So many people have come and gone over the years, and generations later, there’s no telling how many surnames there have been in between.”

  “Find out if you like, Matthew, but not on my account. I don’t care. I meant what I said. I’ll never forgive Nathaniel. I don’t want anything to do with him. To see him, to speak to him, nothing. Out of respect for what we had—more fool me—I’ll keep my word and make sure he’s in a decent facility should he be declared mentally unwell, but that’s as far as it goes. I’d really rather just forget the whole thing ever happened. It’ll take a while, but I’m starting now.” He reached for the bottle of whisky and topped up his glass. “I am going to make a toast. Here’s to forgetting, even if it’s just for a little while. Cheers.”

  “To forgetting,” Matthew said, and they clinked their glasses together.

  Epilogue

  Several times along the road, Isaac almost turned around and headed back home. But he made himself push on through the wintery slush on the pavements, made himself continue his journey to the pub. He’d been avoiding the place—avoiding everyone, really—for weeks. It was time to get back into the real world. Work had been necessary, but he’d basically turned up, done his job, and returned home again. Gone was the happy personality his patients had liked so much. He’d even overheard one of his more flirtatious ladies trotting out the cliché that he was a shadow of his former self and she wondered if somebody had died. He’d wanted to storm into the waiting room and say that, in a manner of speaking, yes, somebody had died. But he had kept a lid on it and the only damage he’d inflicted was on a pen that snapped clean in half in his hand.

  There had been the occasional murmurs about his sexuality, which was now apparently common knowledge, but that was to be expected.

  A good majority of the village knew why he was so down, and they left him to it, staying friendly and polite, but not trying to force him into conversations he didn’t want to have. He was supremely grateful for that, for them, and that was why he was making an attempt to move on, to start living his life again. Seeing people, spending time with them, would help him to do that—he hoped.

  Matthew was working, so that was a definite plus point. If things got too difficult, his brother would be there to step in. Since it had happened, Matthew had done nothing but step in and be there for him. He’d been through a difficult time himself, but he’d shoved that aside and been an absolute pillar of strength for his brother, a fact Isaac wouldn’t soon forget. He wasn’t sure how he could ever repay him, but he’d give it a damn good go.

  Running a hand through his hair and pulling in a deep breath, Isaac pushed open the door to the Miners. He hoped like hell that when he walked into the room, everyone wouldn’t immediately fall silent and turn to stare at him. It was inevitable that people would look, that they’d talk about him, but he just hoped they’d be subtle about it. It was hard enough being out and about without all that crap.

  He made a beeline for the bar. Matthew stood there, a genuine smile transforming his face as he caught sight of him.

  “Isaac,” he said, not too loudly. “Good to see you. What can I get you?”

  “Uh, just a pint, I think.”

  “Nothing to eat?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “I just ate at home.”

  Matthew narrowed his eyes. “Did you? Really?”

  “Yes, really.” He suppressed a sigh. “I promise. Now stop nagging and get my bloody beer.” He didn’t blame Matthew for checking. Isaac hadn’t exactly been looking after himself recently, and it was only his brother’s influence that made him get up in the mornings, eat, shower, shave, and so on.

  Matthew set about pouring the drink. He placed it on the bar with another smile. “I am really glad you’re here. There’s someone I’d like you to meet. Well, re-meet, if that’s even a word.”

  Isaac’s stomach dropped, but he immediately realised how stupid that was. A new person, far from being terrifying, would be kind of nice. They wouldn’t have a clue about him, about his past, what had happened, why he was so fucking miserable. “Oh, okay. Who is it?”

  “I don’t know if you’ll remember her. Leah Jones? Kevin and Patricia’s daughter. Noah’s sister.”

  “Yes, of course I remember her. Been away travelling, hasn’t she? Christ, she’s been gone a long time. Or does it just feel that way?” He took a sip of his pint as he waited for his brother’s response.

  “Kinda both. She’s been away for ten years. Went on a gap year and never came back. She’s been all over the place, working to pay her way then moving on when she got fed up. And now, apparently, she’s ready to chill out, put down some roots. So she’s home.”

  “You seem to know a lot about what she’s been up to.”

  Matthew’s gaze flicked across the room, just for a millisecond, then back to Isaac. He shrugged. “Nah, not really.”

  Now Isaac narrowed his eyes. Slowly, so as not to draw attention, he turned around to look where his brother had glanced. It took him a moment to recognise her, but when he did, he couldn’t help the smile that took over his lips. It had been so long that it felt alien, but it also felt good.

  Swivelling on his stool to face the bar again, he raised an eyebrow at his brother, who’d been busying himself by emptying the glass washer, wiping the glasses, and replacing them on the shelves and hooks. “Not been chatting to her then? Having nice long conversations about her travels? Getting to know each other again?”

  He expected Matthew to vehemently deny it, but instead, he nodded. A small smile tweaked the corners of his lips. “Yes, yes, all right. We’ve been talking. Quite a lot.”

  Isaac frowned. “Why didn’t you just say that then? She’s a good choice. She’s in the know, she’s from a family we trust, and even I can see she’s attractive.”

  “I was trying to play it down. I didn’t want to, you know, rub it in your face. I think there’s something between us, something that may develop. But I haven’t done anything about it because I thought you’d be on a downer about the whole relationship thing.”

  “So what if I am?” Isaac replied with a shrug. “It’s nothing to do with me. Obviously, I haven’t spoken to her for over ten years, but I’m sure she’s a nice girl. And frankly, if she makes you happy, that’s good enough for me.”

  “You wouldn’t mind then? If we got together? I mean, I’m not about to propose marriage any time soon, but I’d like to spend some more time with her, see how things go. If it doesn’t work out, so be it. But I’d like to try. Also, the fact I don’t have to keep my secret from her is a huge plus point.”

  “You sound as if you’re asking for my permission.”

  Matthew looked thoughtful. “I suppose I kind of am. We’ve had a tough few months, especially you, and
I don’t want to do anything that’s going to upset you or piss you off.”

  After taking another swig of his pint to give him a few seconds to formulate his response, Isaac said, “You’re right, we’ve had a shitty few months and that’s exactly why you should go for it. Life goes on. It has to. And although I’m far from being back to my normal self, I’m definitely taking baby steps in that direction. I can’t wallow in self-pity and grief forever. If I do, even though he didn’t achieve what he set out to achieve, he’s still won. So believe me, brother, when I say I’m fighting my way back to normality. It won’t happen overnight. It may take months, even years, but I’m going to give it my best shot. And it’ll definitely help me if I see you happy. You deserve it.”

  By the time he was done, Matthew looked utterly dumbfounded. After a beat, he recovered enough to call out to his boss, “Dennis, mind if I take my break now?”

  “Course not. I’ll cover you.”

  “Thanks, mate.”

  Matthew stepped out from behind the bar, closed the hatch behind him, then crossed over to where Isaac sat. Then he did something totally unexpected. He wrapped his brother in a big bear hug.

  “Oof!” Isaac said as the air was squeezed out of him. “What the hell?”

  “Just shut up and hug me back. This is, what? The second time we’ve hugged in four hundred years? Don’t get used to it.”

  Chuckling, Isaac returned the gesture, then they did the manly slapping-each-other’s-backs thing before parting, wearing identical grins.

  “Thank you, Isaac,” Matthew said. “Your blessing means a lot. Everything, actually. Ready to come and re-meet her?”

  Isaac grabbed his pint and got down from the bar stool. “Absolutely. Let me at her.”

  “Oi.” Matthew elbowed him. “Hands off. I saw her first.”