‘But you love him!’
‘It’s not enough.’
‘It has to be!’ Caroline said desperately. ‘If it’s because of what I did…’
‘It wasn’t you,’ I said. ‘I promise. It was other stuff – problems between us.’
‘You going away – are you going after him?’
‘No. I’m going somewhere else. Russia.’
‘Wow!’ She blinked. ‘Why there?’
‘Because I think I’ve got family there.’
‘You think?’
‘I know it sounds nuts, but—’
‘Anna,’ said a voice behind us. I jumped and turned. It was Abe. He was standing just outside the tiny station canopy, the rain running down his face and throat and soaking into his already soaked T-shirt. His body looked cold and drenched. But his face looked like he was planning to punch someone.
Something uneasy twisted inside me, but I only said, ‘Hi, Abe. This is Caroline. Caroline – Abe.’
Abe ignored Caroline completely.
‘Lift?’
I wavered, but Emmaline’s words last week still echoed in my head. Try being honest with yourself. I shook my head.
‘No, I’m fine, thanks, Abe. I’ll get the bus.’
‘You’ll be waiting a while,’ Caroline said. She looked at Abe under her lashes and blew a draught of smoke towards him. ‘It’s half-day closing today. The last bus went at four.’
‘No! Are you sure?’
She nodded.
‘Sorry, I would’ve said, but I thought you were waiting for a lift.’
‘Oh crap.’ I looked at my watch. ‘I’d better phone Dad.’
‘Don’t be stupid,’ Abe said crossly. ‘I’m going your way right now.’
I knew when I was cornered. ‘All right. Caroline, do you need a lift?’
‘No, don’t worry.’ She stood and opened her umbrella. ‘I’m only five minutes away. See you tomorrow.’
She walked away up the street and Abe watched her as she rounded the corner. As she disappeared into the rainy dusk, he turned to me.
‘What the hell are you on about?’
‘I’m sorry? Where do you get off speaking to me like that!’
‘Russia,’ he spat. His fists were clenched and he wore an expression that would have made me quake, a few months ago. Now it only made me sigh.
‘Abe—’
‘You’re going to Russia? Or do I need a hearing aid?’
‘No, you heard right. I’m sorry, I wasn’t planning to tell you like this—’
‘So you were planning to tell me? Or were you just going to wait until I got your dog-tags in the mail?’
‘Why would I wear dog-tags?’
‘Don’t change the subject. You know what I mean. How long have you been plotting this?’
‘I haven’t been plotting! Don’t be so melodramatic.’
‘So it’s melodramatic to care whether you kill yourself chasing ghosts across—’
‘It’s none of your business!’ I shouted. ‘Why do you care anyway?’
‘For Christ’s sake, Anna! I care because …’ He pushed his hands into his hair, the rain washing over his bare forearms and down his T-shirt. The thin material stuck to his ribs, showing every line from his throat to his belt. His chest was heaving.
We stood, facing each other and then he let his hands fall to his sides. The rain dripped down his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. If I hadn’t known better I might have thought he was crying.
‘I care because I’m your friend,’ he said at last. He wiped the rain from his face with his forearm. Then he took my school bag and we walked in silence up the road to his car.
As we drove up the hill towards my house I tried to think what to say, how to explain, but it was easier to sit in silence, listening to the drumming of the rain and the squeak-swish of the wipers frantically swiping back and forth. Abe drove grimly, his face, in the reflected glow from the dashboard instruments, pale and bleak.
As we drew up outside Wicker House I was surprised to see it was in darkness. Dad must be out. The automatic light above the porch clicked on as Abe ground to a halt, but the rest of the house was still and black.
Abe was silent as we pulled up and for a minute I sat, waiting for him to say something. Then, realizing that he wasn’t going to, I reached for the door handle.
‘Thanks,’ I said, not wanting to leave in silence. ‘For the lift.’
‘Wait.’ His hand closed around mine. I swallowed.
‘What?’
‘Anna …’ His eyes were black as oil, his face white and set. ‘Do you remember saying once that you were grateful?’
‘Of course. I was. I am. For everything.’
‘And you asked me if there was something you could do for me, in return.’
I swallowed again, and tried half-heartedly to move my hand, but Abe’s grip was firm; not painful, but strong.
‘Abe—’
‘Please, don’t. Just let me speak for a second. I haven’t ever asked you for anything – and I’ve done a lot; everyone’s done a lot. Maya, Simon, Emmaline, Sienna – we’ve all helped you.’
Helped me? He’d risked his life and his magic for me. I owed him everything.
‘I know.’ I tried to keep my voice steady. ‘Believe me I know, but—’
‘I’ve never asked for anything in return – but I’m asking you for something now.’
‘Abe—’
‘I want to come. To Russia.’
For a second I was too shocked to speak. Then the surprise was drowned in a tidal wave of fear for him.
‘No. It’s too dangerous.’
‘It’ll be far less dangerous with two. Look, you’re powerful but you’ve got no experience. Whatever you want to do there, you’re more likely to succeed with my help. And I’ve never asked you for anything, you admit that. You owe me. You owe me this.’
‘No.’
‘I’m not going to stand by and watch you walk off into the unknown to kill yourself.’
‘If I do, that’s my business. I’m not dragging you into this, you can’t ask me to.’
‘You’re not dragging me – and I’m not asking.’
‘No! You’re blackmailing me into this—’
‘That’s not fair!’
I wrenched my hand away from his. ‘You’re trying to be some kind of knight errant with a defenceless damsel – but I’m not defenceless and I’m not yours to protect.’
‘I know!’ he shouted. There was silence in the car, and I listened to our torn breathing, and tried to think what to say, how to make him see the stupidity of his request. Then, very quietly, as if the words hurt him, he said, ‘I know. D’you think I don’t know that?’
What could I say to that?
I was still groping for a reply when Abe spoke.
‘I’m sorry.’ His voice was very low. ‘But I … I couldn’t stand to lose someone else.’
And suddenly I wasn’t angry any more. Only heart-sick at his pain, that what he wanted, I couldn’t give.
We sat in silence, listening to the rain on the roof of the car and, as Abe’s ragged breathing grew calmer, I took my courage in my hands.
‘Abe – that girl. The one with the Ealdwitan. What happened?’
He didn’t ask me which girl. He knew which one I meant. He leaned back in his seat and, as he did so, the automatic porch light clicked off, leaving the car and his face in darkness.
‘Emmaline told you,’ he said at last. I couldn’t tell what the emotion was in his voice, only that he was holding it back, trying to keep level.
‘Yes.’
‘What did she say?’
‘Not much. Only what I forced out of her – that there was a girl. That it ended, badly. That she died. That the Ealdwitan punished you.’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you … love her?’
‘Yes.’ He drew a breath; I heard the sharp intake, and then the shuddering sigh as he let it go.
/> ‘What happened?’
‘It’s over. She’s gone.’
‘It doesn’t help, though, does it? Not to talk about the person you’ve lost.’
‘No.’ He was silent for a long while and I thought, That’s it, I won’t press it. He won’t say any more. Then he began to speak. ‘Her name was Rachel. She was … she was an outwith.’
‘An outwith?’ I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice. ‘You? I never thought …’
‘Thought what?’
‘You …’ I stumbled, trying not to hurt him. ‘It’s just – you’ve always seemed to think it was so impossible. To love someone without magic.’
‘I don’t think it’s impossible,’ he said softly. ‘I just know it is. I learned that the hard way.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘She had cancer. She was dying.’ He stopped, swallowed so that I heard the movement of his throat, and then forced himself on. ‘I was stupid. I tried to prevent it. I should have known better. I poured all my magic into healing her – and it was futile. She died anyway and the Ealdwitan punished me.’
‘How?’ I whispered. ‘Why?’
‘Why? For interfering with the outwith, of course. For not being careful. I didn’t bother to try to hide what I was doing – the doctors knew there was something up, they just didn’t know what. I’d crossed a line, I knew that. As for how – well, the Ealdwitan knew there wasn’t much they could do to me. I’d lost Rachel. I didn’t care any more. So they punished my family.’
‘And your family cut you off?’
‘Completely. It was like I died. They mourned my death. I haven’t spoken to any of them since the day they kicked me out. I have no family now, except Simon.’
‘When … how old were you?’ I whispered.
‘It was a long time ago. I was sixteen when I met Rachel. Seventeen when she died.’
‘Oh Abe.’ I shut my eyes in the darkness, shutting out the picture of a seventeen-year-old boy alone with nothing but his grief and the clothes on his back, as he’d once told me.
‘It was a long time ago,’ he said again. And he put a hand up to his face, wiping something away.
I leaned across the car, awkwardly, and I put my arms around him. At first it felt like holding a stone statue, but then his arms crept up, almost in spite of himself and his hands touched my back, uncertainly, as if he was feeling his way. I put my hand on his chest, feeling the hot skin beneath his still-damp shirt, the curve of his ribs, the thud of his heart. And I sent my magic down, deep into his skin and his bones and his heart, trying to heal the unhealable.
At last he spoke, his voice shaky.
‘You should go. It’s getting late. D’you want me to come in? You know, check the house?’
Ever since the night masked men had come to snatch me from my bed, I’d felt uneasy being alone in Wicker House. It was hard to fall asleep in the dark and silence, waiting for footsteps and the scrunch of gravel in the porch. But it wasn’t going to get any easier if I relied on Abe to protect me.
‘No – but thank you.’ He let his arms drop and I sat up, raking the hair off my face. He watched me, his face bleak and sad. A lump rose in my throat and I kissed him gently on the cheek, and he sighed.
‘All right. You know best. God shield me from an independent woman.’
‘I’m sorry – for everything.’
Sorry about Rachel. About me. About this whole screwed up everything. I couldn’t put it all into words, but I didn’t have to. Abe knew. His eyes were sad as he leaned forward to return my kiss.
‘Goodnight, Anna,’ he said. ‘But whatever else, I’m coming. OK?’
‘To Russia?’
‘You can’t go to Russia alone. You’ll be eaten alive. You want to find out about your mother? Well, don’t cut off your nose about this – if you want to succeed, you stand a better chance with me.’
‘I know.’ I said. It was hard to admit, but it was the truth and we both knew it.
Abe nodded, just once. Then I opened the car door and climbed out, and he drove away.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘Emmaline! This is a nice surprise.’ Dad looked up from reading the paper at the kitchen table as Emmaline slung her school bag on to the counter and slumped on to the settle. I hung my coat on the peg beside the back door and started up the coffee machine.
‘Coffee, Dad? Em? Oh –’ I dropped a sheaf of letters on to the table ‘– these were on the mat.’
‘Yes please to coffee,’ Dad said. He began to sort through the post. ‘Haven’t seen you over here for a while, Emmaline. Been busy?’
‘Well, you know. Revision and all that – I hardly leave the house these days,’ Emmaline said. Dad folded up his paper and shot me a look.
‘Really? Anna seems to be barely home. She’s up and down from London every other day. I’m amazed she’s getting any revision done at all.’
‘Look, Grandmother had a stroke. What do you want me to do?’ I snapped. ‘I’m sorry she timed her collapse so badly. I’ll be sure to tell her to schedule her next stroke more considerately.’
‘Hey, hey!’ Dad held up a hand. ‘I know you’ve had a lot on your plate. And of course you need to see Elizabeth. Just – you know. I worry. It’s only a couple of weeks until your exams – I just want you to do yourself justice. Is that a crime?’
Guilt griped at my stomach. The exams were just a fortnight away – but I still hadn’t told Dad that I wouldn’t be here to take them. I hadn’t been revising either – instead I’d used the time up in my room to scour the Internet for cheap flights and apply for visas. Abe knew the truth, of course. Emmaline knew, Marcus knew, my grandmother knew – it seemed like everyone knew except for Dad. And it was killing me – but I wanted to have everything in place before I told him. I didn’t trust myself to hold firm in the face of his reaction. Telling Dad was going to take all the courage and resolve I possessed. I didn’t want there to be even the slightest chink of an exit for me to back out.
The flights were booked for ten days’ time. I was expecting my visa any day now. After that there would be nothing to do but tell Dad. Which was partly why I’d invited Emmaline over tonight. A kind of farewell dinner. Before everything hit the fan.
For the moment though, Dad was opening his post.
‘Another bill,’ he sighed. ‘Bloody water board. It’s a basic human right – shouldn’t it be free?’
‘Yeah,’ agreed Emmaline. ‘I’ll tell those damn Ethiopians to send back that artesian well kit the school paid for; you clearly need it more than they do.’
‘Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit,’ Dad said loftily. ‘Credit card bill – oh well, not too painful this month. Oh, thank you, sweetie.’ He took the coffee I handed him and took a scalding gulp. ‘Hmm, what’s this?’ He was looking at the back flap of the next envelope. ‘Russian Embassy? That sounds a bit more exciting at least!’
My heart jumped into my throat and words stuck there, jostling to get free, but trapped. Dad’s thumb moved to the flap and ripped open the envelope and, before I could do anything more than squeak a faint, ‘Dad!’ he was reading the letter. My letter.
‘The embassy have approved my application for a visa to visit Russia?’ Dad’s face was blankly astonished. ‘How very bizarre!’ Then he looked more closely at the address line. ‘Hang on – it says Ms Winterson. The embassy’s approved your application, Anna? What’s this about? You can’t go to Russia – you’ve got exams!’
‘Dad …’ I croaked, but no more words came. One look at my face and he was round the table, standing in front of me, his hands on my shoulders.
‘Anna?’ He looked into my face, his expression alarmed. ‘What is all this? Please, tell me this is some kind of mistake?’
‘It’s not a mistake,’ I managed. ‘I’m sorry, Dad, I was going to tell you—’
‘What! When? You’re trying to tell me you’re planning to ditch exams you’ve been working towards for two years and swan off into the blue, a
lone?’
‘Not alone,’ I said, and then instantly realized that was a mistake.
‘With who?’
‘With Abe.’
‘What?’ Emmaline said, her voice a startled echo of Dad’s shock.
‘Yes, I’m going with Abe – not like that, Dad,’ I said as I saw his face. ‘As friends.’
‘But you can’t,’ Dad said, shaking his head as if he could dislodge this crazy notion, shake it free. ‘You’ve got exams! Why now? Why not in a couple of months, for the love of all that’s reasonable?’
Because we might not be here in two months! Because at the current rate, Elizabeth would probably be dead. Because, left to run amok, the spy was going to bring the Ealdwitan to their knees, and London alongside.
But I couldn’t say any of that – not to Dad. I could only shake my head, trying not to look at the bewildered, angry hurt in his face.
‘I forbid it,’ Dad said, and suddenly his voice was stony. ‘I am your father and I will not allow this.’
‘I’m an adult,’ I said. ‘I’m eighteen, remember? I can do what I want now. What are you going to do – lock me up?’
‘You’re a child! And that man – that bloody Goldsmith he should know better. You are not going to Russia alone and you’re certainly not going alone with Abe Goldsmith. If he tries I’ll … I’ll … I’ll have him prosecuted!’
‘For what, Dad?’ I said tiredly. ‘For being my mate?’
‘Anna, be reasonable!’ Dad said, desperately. ‘What do you want me to say? Yes, it’s fine, jack in your exams, go to Russia with a man I barely know and trust less, here’s my blessing?’
‘First, I’m not going to pass my exams,’ I said, trying to make my voice as steady as I could. ‘Dad, you don’t know what it’s been like – I went off the rails a long while back. Seth … Grandmother … everything. It’s all been too much. It’s better this way. I’ll come back –’ at least, I hoped I would ‘– I’ll resit next year with a clear head and I’ll reapply for university. I won’t gain anything by flunking out now. And second—’
‘Second,’ Emmaline interrupted, ‘she’s not going alone with Abe. I’m going too.’
‘Em?’ I gasped.
A Witch Alone (The Winter Witch Trilogy #3) Page 14