by Gloria Cook
The morning after the sports day, Emilia had come to Ford House to find out how the family were. Not unexpectedly, Libby was fretful, keeping attached to Perry. They had been poring over a photograph album.
‘I’m trying to distract her,’ Perry had smiled bravely, his smile, as usual, wholly beautiful, and Emilia’s love for him, infinite and ageless as it was, had burned even more intensely and her pain was nearly unbearable.
She could not keep at a careful distance, a proper distance, and sat beside him on the sofa. Secretly they had held hands, so tightly. ‘Perry…?’
‘We’re going to be fine, Em. I’m fine, honestly. Here’s a photo of Libby and I, taken just before we came here. It’s one of our favourites but you must have it.’ The underlying intention in the gift was plain in the sadness of his voice. It was a studio study, a non-intimate gift to everyone except her. ‘Perhaps, I could have one of you…?’
‘Of course.’
There had been a moment when neither had known what to say, in which he had almost crushed her fingers.
‘Could I… could I ask you to go up to Selina? She’s in a bit of a state.’ His look had conveyed this to be a watered-down description for Libby’s sake. ‘She won’t come out of her room, or eat or drink. She might listen to you.’
It had been hard to leave him then, nearly as painful as the anguish at the very last time. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
She had found Selina a shadowy figure, curled up, hugging a pillow on the big double bed. Her impious eyes closed. The curtains were closed. She was in the same clothes as the day before, her ankle bandaged. She babbled something viciously in French; ordering the maid to leave her alone, Emilia had guessed.
‘It’s me, Selina.’ Emilia quietly closed the door.
Selina gazed up but did not make a movement or show any emotion. ‘Why have you come?’
‘To see how Perry and Libby are.’
Easing herself up stiffly due to lengthy immobility, Selina had settled herself against the headboard. The violet hue of her eyes had gleamed in the dimness, strangely active. ‘You’ll be glad to learn I’m leaving on the overnight train for London. My brother and niece will be following me as soon as I’ve found somewhere for all of us to live.’
Determined not to reveal the appalling effects of actually hearing for the first time that Perry was going away, Emilia had flung back the curtains, wishing the brilliant sunlight would blot out the other woman’s eyes. ‘You’re a cruel, heartless woman, Selina Bosweld.’
‘But you don’t wish you’d never met me, do you, Emilia? Or it would mean you’d never have met Perry. You’ll never regret that, will you? Even though you’re about to lose him, even though when you started with him you must have known you could never really keep him.’
Emilia had darted up to her, leaning forward, on fire. ‘Think you know something about how it feels to love and lose someone, do you?’
‘Yes! Yes, I do.’
‘How? How could you possibly know?’
‘Because I too am about to leave behind for ever someone I love. A love that could never be reciprocated, and it’s even worse now because the person concerned despises me.’
Emilia regarded her disbelievingly. Selina’s returning stare had softened, full of meaning, and Emilia had thought hard to grasp what it was. ‘You don’t mean Alec? Do you think you’ve fallen in love with him?’
‘Not Alec, Emilia. You, Em…’ Reaching out, Selina had grabbed her hand. Began to cry softly. ‘I’ve always wanted you. If I could have made it happen nothing would have stopped me. I didn’t realize until yesterday, when I knew I had no choice but to leave here straight away, how strong my feelings really were for you. I admit I’ve hurt a lot of people. This time, I’ve hurt myself too.’
Jerking her hand free, Emilia had stood back from the bed, the shock of the declaration spreading icy rivers through her entire body. ‘I… I don’t know what to say. I had no idea.’
Selina could not meet her astonished, appalled eyes. ‘Why should you? The very idea of what’s known as ancient love disgusts many, and most aren’t even aware it exists. I’ve explored all kinds of love, never believing I’d ever fall in love. And now that I have, all I will have to show for it is a terrible loneliness that I don’t think will ever leave me. It’s my punishment. I deserve it. Go downstairs to Perry, Emilia. Spend what time you can with him. He doesn’t know about the other side of my life, please spare him that.’
She had looked up, pleading. ‘Please don’t hate me. Just let me tell you this one time that I love you, Em. I love you.’
Emilia left behind the echo of Selina’s tormented sobs as she went downstairs to Perry’s empty bedroom. The room where their association, their love had begun. The language of his love and devotion was whispering to her now as she stood in the space where the bed had been, where she had laid her little girl down, where she and Perry had first kissed. The room was returned to a dining room now and, like the rest of the house, pristine, ready for prospective owners to view. Emilia was thankful that Ben had no wish to buy it. She would never step over this threshold again.
She went outside and locked the door. Locking away the part of her life she should never have possessed, and never would again.
Going back down the hill, she took the fork in the lane to the ford. It wasn’t necessary to use the bridge, there had been no rain for several days and the dip in the ground was dry. As were her eyes. She had already cried herself dry. She’d had her moments with Jenna. And her moments with Perry. Now she must go on with Alec.
She climbed the hill to the farm. Returning to her children.
To the enduring love she shared with Alec, which would see her through the years.
First published in the United Kingdom in 2003 by Severn House
This edition published in the United Kingdom in 2018 by
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © Gloria Cook, 2003
The moral right of Gloria Cook to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788630658
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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