Run


.


9...


.


Barbara pinned her hair into a ponytail and looked at her watch. Alright, one hour, that will do.

She stretched a bit in front of the door and with a look into the sky gave herself a private weather forecast. The partly blue sky would become cloudy and she prognosticated wind, drizzle and rain for later that day. Better be back then. It's too cold anyway.

She put on her gloves, stuffed her scarf into her sweatshirt and ran off slowly. Coming along at the riding arena she waved at riding Thomas who whistled after her.

"Shut up, cheeky bloke, or I'll get you arrested for harassment!" she shouted back at him with a grin. He waved laughing and Barbara continued her run down the long driveway and out of the gate. There she stopped and looked in both directions.

Bloody hell, into nothing or... into nothing.

She realized that there was a lot of landscape down and up the road. After a short while running she added ...and no single car for about twenty minutes. Crazy. Even for that time of the year.

After some thirty minutes she stopped at a gate, hopped a bit and stretched her legs and arms. Then she let her gaze brush the wide meadows.

Beautiful... she thought. And so very isolated. I wonder if all this belongs to the estate... She could understand why Thomas returned here whenever he needs time for himself, time to think, time to loose his dark thoughts. When he once again tries to hide himself from the rest of the world though she always knew that he was here. Often enough had she called his mother when Thomas had once again disappeared without a word for more than 24 hours. He always went down here to his beautiful home county.

She let her gaze and her mind wander for a while to where she was now, to where they were now, to what happened in the last few days and how lovely and worry-free the time in St. Ives was. No need to hurry, no need to think of work, no need to think of others but themselves. She knew it could not go on forever, the time on leave had to end in four days. Probably even earlier, when they drive off from here, at least as soon as they would arrive in London, as soon as she would be back home. And then the drab monotony of everyday life will strike back as hard as possible. With every hour spent in Cornwall this would become even harder.

But it's inevitable. It's really about time to return to London! Time to return to my home. I need normality. I need to wake up from this dream. I need to stop playing princess. These shoes are far too big for me. I need to stop thinking I could have a future with Thomas. Really, what will that be? Lady of the estate? Fancy dresses, posh parties, smalltalk with people I don't like?

She hesitated. Children? Well, that would be the easiest... matter. Though being alone she slightly blushed with a smile. She could become accustomed to the thought of having children. That's not the thing.

Moving in with Thomas in London would be one other thing easy to arrange and get familiar with. London is a terrain I'm used to, but at Howenstow? One day he will want to give up the Met and return here. I'd never fit and he'd never give up his Cornish home. Perhaps he would try but I know after a while he would become homesick and leave here. And never under any circumstances would he sell Howenstow. Rather would he keep it as a holiday home. She chuckled. This thought was too absurd. And me living here? With all that posh stuff and scary noble people? These small-talkers... Even if Thomas would object I am not born to live in this world, in his world. But still... Barbara slapped herself inwardly for that thought.

No, not 'still...' Yes, I love him. Though I still haven't dared to tell him that. And he said he loves me... Why exactly me? Of all women in the world - me! But still that might be too less for... For what? Becoming one of his lot? Never. Participate in his life? Be a part of his world? You are far too different, Barbara! Wake up! She sighed.

I need to make me dinner on my own again. I have to iron my clothes on my own again. I have to return in the evening and find my bed unmade like I've left it in the morning. I need some nights on my own again. I can't... She blushed by the thought that they made love every night since they arrived here. In her head she heard his soft voice. She heard the rain dropping against the windows undisturbed by any other sounds but their own whispers and moans. She heard the waves rolling onto the shore at Lizard Point with no more sounds but the crying of some sea gulls in the distance and his sweet words into her ears. She felt the wind in her hair and the foggy humidity waving onto her face. She had the smell of wet grass and heather in her nose, a slight taste of salt on her tongue. She recalled the sweaty, salty taste and the earthy and spicy smell of Thomas.

Bloody hell, you should stop that, Barbara! she cursed herself. I need some city sounds. Something that brings me back down to earth. Blaring sirens, smelly smog, shouting people, normality and work, beggars and crime scenes...

She inhaled the cold and clean Cornish air and thought once more of his DI, of his broad shoulders, his brown hair, his dark and tender eyes and his reassuring smile. A smile that seemed to tell her that this is real and she still walks with both feets on the ground.

...and I need this bloody Lord. she admitted. His bloody Lordship of this bloody estate and with his bloody family liking me, even seem to accept me, seem to help me ajusting to this unfamiliar world without denying myself. And again there is this bloody fear that this bloody dream maybe working. Fear... Hope, actually. Scaring hope that all this may become reality.

She clenched the wooden gate. No! No, no, no! More likely it would not. And if, then the contact back with the earth will be heavier than you could imagine. Don't fly, Barbara. Just don't. You need to Stop! Dreaming! Now!

Barbara stretched her shoulders, wiped away the tear that dared to run down her cheek, kicked at the gate and turned back to the road to Howenstow. Her inner mayhem was not at all soothened or rearranged.

"F***!" she swore and sped up.


.


...