Chapter thirtyfive
On the next day Fredrika was send home. The doctors hadn't found any reasonable explanation to her sudden recovery. They just had to classify it as spontaneous recovery. Everybody were happy about Fredrika's return, all except herself. As soon as Mr. Raglan had said that Richard was gone for her life for all time she became depressed.
- I didn't even have time to say goodbye, she protested.
- It's better this way, why do you have the urge to lengthen the unavoidable, Mr. Raglan pointed out.
- He was my friend!
- He is dead, for the God's sake!
Fredrika had to admit that Mr. Raglan was right.
- Don't waste your love on dead man. It's not good for you.
You are allowed to bury yourself into the past only for one moment at the time.
Fredrika lowered her gaze to the floor. Her heart was aching and tears were not far.
- It's not fair.
- I know, nothing in this world is fair but that is the one thing which we must to accept.
- I will never forget him.
- I'm sure you don't and neither do I, although I would like to, Mr. Raglan said and smiled briefly.
He made Fredrika to laugh.
- He is or was far too special.
- Yeah.
They sat quietly for awhile in Mr. Raglan's study. The rain drummed the windows and Oscar Wilde purred in his master's lap.
- How is your article about the chapel?
- Still on the half way.
- Well maybe you should get it done?
- Yes I should.
Then she got onto her feet and left the room.
Her work at the Towton Hall was almost over and deep inside she felt longing. This Hall wasn't nearly like the others where she had spent time.
She had never felt such emotions before and she hadn't expected herself to fall in love.
She went to her room and opened her laptop. It had been a slight exaggeration from her to say that the article was on half way. The article hadn't even started yet.
She stared at the empty screen and sighed.
- You fool; she murmured to herself and started to write.
The start was always the hardest part but soon the text came to the screen like by itself.
She worked till the dinner time and then she looked at her accomplishment. She had described the working process, investigations, studies, step backs and the end results as accurate as possible. All the supernatural elements were left out so nobody could call her as mad.
While she was staring at the screen her thoughts took her back to the events of last few days. She remembered the pleasures, horrors, excitements and sadness. She had been lucky; she had experienced something which the rest of the world just dreamed about.
She had eye witnessed the struggle between the real historical characters England's history and not just some low paid actors. She had met England's most controversial king of all time and looked him strait into his eyes.
And he had shown his world to her alone.
Then her stomach reminded her that it was a time for dinner.
Her article would not fully clean her king's name from all the propaganda dirt which had blackened it. Her humble effort was as tiny as a drop of water in a sea but she had once heard that even the greatest sea was made from tiniest drops.
If her text would move even a single soul it would be a triumph to her and to her king.
She saved her text and shut down the laptop. Mr. Jacobs would hopefully be pleased and then her team would sail towards the new adventures.
Adventures which would never reach such heights as this one had. Well who would know for certain what might happen?
- To you Richard, where ever you might be, she whispered and headed to the dinner.