The Girl in the Photograph

by Kirsty Ferry

  She leaned her forehead on his and focussed on his open, still slightly damp collar and the warmth of his hands on her skin. ‘I have to go. We’re having a dinner party. I have to entertain a group of people I despise. I pray to God Walter is detained wherever he is and doesn’t come back until late.’

  ‘But we have tomorrow,’ he murmured. He gently took her face in his hands and tilted it up so her lips were close to his. ‘And the day after that and the day after that. We have all summer.’

  ‘But I want forever.’ There was a catch in her voice.

  ‘We can have that too,’ he promised her, ‘but until then …’ He picked up the teapot, a twinkle in his eye. ‘Take this back with you. Have a cup of tea and think of me down here, all alone, with nothing but my chemicals to keep me company.’

  ‘Have you developed the photographs of me being a mermaid yet?’ she asked in a small voice. ‘I keep asking and you keep saying “not yet, not yet”. Have you done it?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Julian! Can I see them?’

  ‘Eventually,’ he teased.

  ‘Awful man!’ She tapped him playfully on the arm. ‘Why not? I’m desperate!’

  ‘Because the longer I string it out, the longer you keep coming here to see me.’

  ‘Wicked, wicked man! How can you live with yourself?’

  ‘Quite easily, thank you.’ Reluctantly he stood up and held his hand out to her. ‘You should go.’

  The unspoken spectre of Walter was there between them again.

  A thought suddenly struck Lorelei that made her go hot, then cold, and her heart bounce in her chest. ‘Are we having an affair?’ she asked bluntly. ‘Am I as bad as Harriet?’

  Julian considered her words carefully as he handed the teapot over; then he answered. ‘No. We’re not having an affair. Because affairs don’t mean anything.’

  ‘Well what are we doing?’ she asked.

  Julian fixed his dark eyes on her and she felt herself tumble, mesmerised, into their depths. ‘We’re falling in love,’ he told her simply. ‘At least I am.’

  ‘Me too,’ she whispered. ‘Me too.’

  She looked far too happy as she ran up the path to the Hall. Her cheeks were flushed and her damn hair was flying loose, damp and curling with the summer storm. Thank God he’d come back early, right in the middle of that rainstorm, and been able to catch her doing this. His suspicions were correct. She was a whore, through and through.

  Revolting.

  He had a good idea where she’d been. He just didn’t know what she’d done, but he could imagine it.

  He closed his eyes.

  Oh, God. Yes. He could imagine it.

  Lorelei smiled and chatted her way through the dinner party, her mind mulling over the events of the afternoon. She had put the little teapot in her sitting room, on the window sill and now acted her part flawlessly as Lady Scarsdale.

  Walter had excused himself at some point during the evening, leaving her alone with his business associates for a good twenty minutes or so. He returned, his face flushed and his brow furrowed and took his seat without a word. Lorelei did not particularly care. It was a shame he’d come home at all. If he was in one of his dark moods, then she would at least be safe from his company for the rest of the evening. He could sit in his own room and ponder the likelihood of smuggling ships through his damned telescope.

  She was, however, not to be so lucky.

  After the guests had left, Lorelei climbed the stairs to her room, desperate to get her evening gown off and brush her hair out. She would have had a million carpet picnics with Julian rather than even just one more of Walter’s business ordeals, but …

  ‘What the hell is this?’ Walter was at the top of the stairs, waiting for her.

  ‘Walter? What is what?’ asked Lorelei, startled. Instinctively, she moved away from the top of the stairs. Whatever it was, if he lashed out, she was liable to topple backwards and she had no intention of plunging to her doom in Sea Scarr Hall that night.

  ‘This. This … thing.’

  She realised he was holding something in his hand – no, brandishing something.

  And she realised that the “thing” was her teapot. Her little rose-patterned teapot that Julian had returned to her this afternoon.

  ‘It’s my teapot!’ She stared at Walter, wondering if he had gone mad.

  ‘It’s not your teapot,’ he thundered. ‘It’s a piece of tat I had sent to the Dower House for the use of paying guests. It’s not good enough to be in here. Like you!’

  ‘Like me?’ Lorelei was horrified, but she didn’t know whether she felt more violated by his words or that fact that he had entered her sitting room and poked around to find something tenuously incriminating. ‘Walter, what the hell do you mean by likening me to a teapot?’ The words were out before she could stop them and Walter’s face turned puce. His eyes were almost popping out of his head and spittle was forming in the corners of his mouth. If she hadn’t been so terrified, she would have laughed.

  ‘I’m pointing out that you can’t hide what you are,’ he growled. ‘You’re a filthy whore and you’ve been with that man Cooper or whatever he calls himself.’

  ‘I’m not a whore!’ cried Lorelei. ‘I wish you would stop calling me one. Whatever I was before I was married doesn’t even mean anything. And all I did was model! For artists!’

  ‘You slept with men. You are diseased and disgusting and—’

  ‘I’m not!’ Lorelei was crying now.

  ‘You are!’ Walter suddenly turned and smashed the teapot against the wall. It shattered and he was left with a lethal looking shard in his hand.

  Instantly, he brought it down onto her forearm, slashing her almost from elbow to wrist.

  Lorelei cried out in pain and shock as blood beaded up to the surface of her skin.

  ‘Next time, it’s your face,’ he hissed. He threw the shard at her and she managed to duck out of the way as it bounced off the wall, before she raced along the corridor and locked herself, shaking and sobbing, in the sitting room.

  Down on the cove, a little light glowed in the window of the Dower House and Lorelei thought her heart would break.

  It must have been around two o’clock in the morning when Julian was roused from his sleep by a smattering of pebbles against the window.

  He’d lit the lamp for her to see after her dinner party, and had been disappointed that no answering light had appeared in the corner of her room. Hey ho. She must have been too busy entertaining the dinner guests.

  But a second hail of pebbles had his heart racing, and he was up on his feet hurrying over to the window. He peered down into the darkness and saw a little yellow glow flickering. A white-draped shape was huddled into the wall and he squinted down.

  The light flitted across the face of the person holding the light and he wasted no time in flinging the window open. ‘Lorelei!’

  ‘Let me in. Oh, let me in, Julian!’ she hissed. ‘Please!’ She looked back at the path and the lamp flickered. She looked strained and tear-stained in the light.

  ‘I’m coming.’ He ran down the stairs.

  She was in the door almost as soon as he had opened it and fell into his arms sobbing, the lamp discarded on the terrace. ‘Oh, God, help me. Help me please. I have to get away from him.’

  Julian held her away from him and stared at her. ‘Who? From Walter?’

  ‘Yes! Yes, from Walter. Look.’

  She held out her arm and Julian saw the cut. ‘What the hell? I’ll kill him! What did he do?’

  ‘It was the teapot.’ She began to giggle, hysterically. ‘The teapot. Oh, dear Lord, the teapot. He said it was tat and he smashed it and he did this to me. With my own teapot!’

  ‘You can’t stay there. You can’t go back.’ Julian started looking around him for his clothes. ‘I’ll go up there now.’

  ‘No! No. It’s all right. It’s all right. He’s gone. He’s gone to his mistress’s. Phyllis told me he’d gone. I
waited to make sure. I thought he’d leave.’ She clung onto his arms. ‘He always goes there when he does something like this, he—’

  ‘Stay here. Stay here tonight. Nobody can hurt you here and we’ll worry about it tomorrow.’

  ‘Yes, yes. I’ll stay.’ Her voice caught on a sob. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Lorelei, my love—’

  He picked her up in his arms and she clung onto him and there were no more words.

  It ended in a flurry of bedding and discarded clothing. It ended with her in Julian’s arms in the bedroom of the Dower House, feeling his fingers stroke her hair as she drowsed against him, her head on his chest, her arm draped across his warm body.

  It ended with the smell of the ocean drifting in through the windows of the Dower House and no thoughts as to what would happen at the end of the summer. Or even what would happen when Walter came home.

  It simply ended the way it was meant to – and the way she had dreamed it would end. Oh, and if only this ending was a new beginning, she thought in the gathering dawn. A new beginning, she had realised, was needed for them all.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The Beach Hut, Present Day

  The beach hut was pale against the dark cliffs and the moon reflected in the high tide, turning the cove into molten silver. They had enjoyed a leisurely dinner in a truly romantic restaurant on the outskirts of Staithes and, perhaps mellowed by the wine she had consumed, Lissy had been happy to carry through Stef’s suggestion of a walk on the beach before he headed back to Whitby. They were both barefoot – part of her dreams had now been realised and she thought it ironic to think it had happened here, and not in Cornwall.

  ‘I didn’t know how beautiful it was here of an evening.’ Stef drew Lissy towards him and she didn’t resist. ‘You have a wonderful view from the house. And the beach hut. I think it looks very special tonight. There is just something about it. Shall we visit it and see if there is magic there?’

  ‘Magic. That sounds lovely.’ She moved closer to him. ‘I hope I left our ghost at Sea Scarr. He wasn’t scary, exactly, but I don’t think he needs to bother us down here again, do you?’

  Stef looked at her curiously. ‘So you think he was a ghost then. I wasn’t far behind you, and I too felt a presence.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want to dwell on it. Whatever it was up there, I’m glad we ran away.’ Lissy shivered. ‘I felt we were intruding. Come on, take my mind off it. Let’s go and look for magic in the beach hut. Although I don’t know what I’d expect to find in there that’s magical. It’s such a tiny little place.’ They had arrived at the small white building, and Stef held her hand now, presumably so she didn’t dash off ahead.

  ‘I’ll show you it all,’ said Stef smiling. ‘But you have to close your eyes.’

  ‘Really?’ She looked up at him. ‘What for?’

  ‘Because if you don’t, it will simply spoil the magic.’

  Lissy did as he’d asked and was aware of his rough hand on hers as the door clicked open. He guided her inside the little building, and she breathed in the faint salty smell of the beach mingled with the woody tones of the painted furniture. She was aware, also, of a fizzing that she hadn’t felt for so long; the electricity that was sparking back into life through her body, through her skin, as she sensed how close he was to her.

  There was a tiny click from somewhere to her left, then he spoke: ‘There, mia cara. You may look.’ His voice was a whisper in her ear, and she felt a tingling down the side of her cheek as his breath touched her. ‘Your magic. All yours.’

  She opened her eyes and was unable to move.

  All around the place were twinkling lights – ropes and ropes of them, shining like little stars, draped over the picture rails and strung from the ceiling; running across the back of the couch and wound up between the banisters of the staircase, all the way up to the mezzanine floor and continuing along it.

  ‘Pretty, yes?’ asked Stef. Lissy turned towards him, astonished to see that he looked embarrassed and unsure. He was, almost, like a little boy shuffling from side to side, waiting for approval.

  The idea was so incongruous that Lissy found herself half-laughing, half-crying. ‘You did this for me?’

  ‘I did,’ replied Stef. ‘But that isn’t all. Come with me.’ He took her hand and drew her into the tiny lounge. On the couch, the couch that Grace had been playing on, was a wicker hamper. ‘Open it. Go on, It’s for you also.’

  ‘What is it?’ asked Lissy.

  ‘Only the very best. Fortnum and Mason’s best. And it includes your favourite champagne and your floral hot chocolate – I asked them to make it up specially.’

  ‘Stef!’ Lissy was stunned. ‘I can’t believe you did this!’

  Stef shrugged. ‘I needed to do something.’ He guided her gently to the seat, and produced two crystal glasses out of the hamper. The twinkly lights hit off the engravings on the glasses, and bounced sparkles around the room. ‘I can’t just follow you around and annoy you and hope you take the time to notice me.’

  There was a satisfying pop as the cork came out of the champagne and Stef poured two drinks. He handed one to Lissy and she hesitated for a second before burying her nose in the glass, as she always did, enjoying the fizzy sound and the sensation of the bubbles bursting against her nose.

  ‘Can I interest you in a chocolate truffle?’ he asked, ever so politely, ‘or a biscuit?’

  Lissy giggled, shakily. ‘Either would be perfect. I think I’ve walked off my dinner by now. But really. What have you done all of this for? What are you trying to prove?’

  ‘I’m trying to prove that I still love you.’ His eyes burned into hers, and she found she couldn’t look away. The twinkly lights were reflected in his irises and she blinked, mesmerised. ‘I never stopped loving you,’ he continued, ‘so I’m also trying to say that I’m sorry and I was very stupid and I have suffered from that stupidity for seven years. Kerensa and I are no longer together, as I told you. It was never meant to last, I could see that, and I realised very soon after she came to live with me that it was not right. But I was stubborn and I couldn’t admit that to anybody properly; not even to myself. And in my heart, I was punishing you for ending it with me, for refusing to listen to me, but you had every right – every right on earth to do what you did. I behaved disgracefully and I’ve paid for it ever since.’

  Lissy stiffened. ‘Did you marry her? Because if you married her—’

  ‘No!’ Stef held his hands up in his defence, shaking his head vehemently. ‘No. I didn’t marry her. We talked about marriage, and I kept making excuses not to get married. But it was when she began to mention children that I realised I couldn’t go on with it. Elisabetta, it is embarrassing and I will forever hate myself, but it is done. It is finished.’

  ‘So – when did you split up exactly?’ asked Lissy, almost dreading his response.

  ‘Last year.’

  The answer surprised her and she checked herself. ‘Last year? So you’ve had time to think about it? You haven’t just done this on the rebound?’

  ‘I almost did,’ admitted Stef. He looked away. ‘But I talked myself out of it. I told myself it would not be fair on you to jump out of her bed and into yours and I made myself stay in Italy. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Then eventually, I swallowed my stupid pride and asked your brother for advice.’ Suddenly, he grinned and looked back at her. His gaze was like a jolt of adrenalin as he continued to speak. ‘Jon told me he was going to do this project with his friend Simon, and I invited myself to Whitby. Between us, we concocted this story of my helping him out. But really, he helped me out.’

  ‘How?’ Lissy was staring at him, hypnotised by his voice as he tried to explain what had happened. She’d barely noticed that he had slipped into his native tongue and she was answering, just as fluently, in Italian.

  ‘Who do you think prepared all of this for me?’ he whispered, indicating the lights. ‘And the hamper had to be delivered somewhere,
didn’t it?’ There was a smile hovering around his lips, and Lissy thought back to the day they’d just passed.

  ‘When?’ she asked. ‘When did Jon do it?’

  ‘When we were out today. That was why I received that call in Staithes. I wanted to know it had all happened, and he rang to tell me it was almost done, and could I just tell him where the champagne glasses should go. No wonder I looked guilty!’

  ‘But Becky didn’t say!’

  ‘Becky didn’t know,’ said Stef. ‘I knew she’d tell you and I wanted it to be a surprise. She thinks he’s been doing a location shoot today. She’ll know by now it was an untruth but I’m sure, under the circumstances, she will forgive him. Lissy, you have killed me these last few years. Not a day has gone by when I haven’t thought about you or wondered how I could contact you. I had to do it somehow, I had to try and win you back. I had to let your heart speak to you in the moment and tell you what it wanted.’

  ‘I can’t believe Jon did all this and said nothing. I can’t believe you planned all this! Sometimes, I could hate you, Stef, I really could. I hated you that day in Cornwall.’

  ‘I know. Looking back, I hate myself. But if you’d only let me explain that day, it wouldn’t have been too late. Nothing had really happened then. Still, no point thinking about it now. But what about tonight?’ Stef lowered his voice and moved closer to her. ‘Do you hate me tonight, Elisabetta?’ He bent his head down to her upturned face and brushed her lips with his.

  ‘No,’ replied Lissy quietly. ‘I don’t hate you tonight. I think I love you – I absolutely do. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped loving you. I wasn’t admitting what we had to myself at all. I told people you were a summer fling, I kept saying it meant nothing and I danced off with other men, just to prove a point. But nobody could hold me – not one person.

  ‘I know people think I’m vain and shallow and brittle, but none of those men meant anything. I’m an awful person, I really am. I kept saying I didn’t care and Becky despaired of me, and even Simon, when he got to know me. He told me I had to accept that you and I were meant for one another. God knows what Cori would have made of it all if I’d taken the time to keep in touch with her after Uni. Only I didn’t and that’s another awful thing about me. But I’m sure Simon has told her about you anyway.’ She laughed, unamused at her failings. ‘It was always you. But you see, before I met you, I thought I was in love with someone. Then it turned out he was married and seeing you with her just brought it all back.’ She shivered.