Epilogue - Return to Sender

"If the girls at Cheltenham Ladies College could see me now!" Alex reads, flopping on the sofa opposite and leafing through the morning's post. We have been back in Barry for two days, the house is a mess and I am exhausted, uncomfortable and starving. She has found another postcard amongst the spam.

"Show me," I say. Alex waves the card under my nose. The picture on the front is of a windswept beach at sunset.

"It's not from her," Alex says, "Can't be, they were coming while she was still here."

"You said the last one came from the hotel, the one in town?"

Alex nods, "Did you go look?"

"No one there, they said, 'cept for the regulars like," Tom adds, sweeping into the living-room with a yawn. "How are you doing this morning mate?"

"I've been better," I admit and try to get comfortable, despite being strapped into that fucking chair again.

"They've jobs going though, thought I'd apply. Gisalook?" He says to Alex, snatching the card from her hand and turning it over and over. He uses his vast deductive powers to come to an astonishingly unreasoned conclusion, it's like watching a lobotomised Sherlock Holmes. "She's gone mate, sad I know but we all saw it. This'll be just from someone messin' with you. Anyway, you don't even know it's for you, no address is there? Could be for anyone like."

"What?" I ask and so he hands it to me to inspect. I turn the card over with difficulty and arch as best I am able, in order to read the words. "It was hand delivered you idiot," I say, realising that there is neither an address, nor stamp on the delivery.

"Oi, no need to be rude. Know you're going through a tough time n'all but I've got feelings mate."

"When did it come!"

"Few minutes ago," Alex explains.

"Go after them then!" I insist. "Go on!"

Alex rolls her eyes, "They'll be long gone by now."

"Alex!"

"Fine, fine!" she disappears.

Tom parks opposite me. He looks at me with those two big sad eyes and sighs. "You want to talk about it mate?"

"No, not really."

"Look it's been two days and you ain't mentioned what happened."

"I've had other things on my mind Tom, if you hadn't noticed."

"It ain't healthy."

"Tom, I have lived for a long time, the one consistent measure of time is loosing people I have cared for, loved, loathed, even killed myself. I have survived for that length of time without the need to get up close and personal with my feelings. I didn't need to 'talk about it' when we lost Annie, nor the baby, not Pearl, nor Leo..."

"No I recall about then you would have rather killed someone."

"Exactly, so as you can imagine, this," I demonstrate my present captivity by shaking the chair, in which I sit, violently, "is probably a better idea than a conversation about how fucking shit it feels that yet again someone I love has died without me having the opportunity to say goodbye. Brilliant, isn't it, immortality. No," I feign calm, "no you're right Tom, let's talk about it. Let's talk about loss, let's have a good natter about your ability to emote, shall we start with talking about McNair, George, Tina..."

"Nina!" Tom snaps.

I bite my lip, "You get my point I think?"

"You're in a mood. I'll talk to you about this tomorrow."

"Fine!"

"Fine."

"And tidy up!"

"No!"

Alex reappears. We both look at her, fuming. "What?" she shrugs, "No one about. It'll be okay, I'll get them next time." Neither of us respond, "What did I say?"

Tom stomps off upstairs, Alex looks at me as if I have done something wrong. If I could have stomped off myself I would, I make do with a heavy sigh.

"Back te normal then," Alex smiles. "One day you two will just snog and get it over with I swear."

It has just turned midnight. The clock on the mantle ticks the moments away methodically. I count them away and try not to replay every event and misdemeanour of the last few weeks over in my mind. I try not to work out what I could have done differently, said differently, or not done, not said, to have changed the events which plagued me now. I cannot get the image of Belinda's burning body from my mind. I cannot shake the taste of that girl, the woman, Belinda, from my mouth. I think of Stuart, of his warnings, his hubris, his passions, his sacrifices. I think of that girl who came to kill me all that time ago and all she had to endure since I turned her, murdered her, so selfishly.

Then I hear something, a little tick-tak of metal in the lock of the door. I turn my head. The door opens and I strain to see what has happened. I am about to call out for Alex and Tom when the beam of a torch shines in my face.

"Hello babes," a voice says behind the light.

My heart explodes with joy. It can't be! Can it?

I am imagining it! Aren't I?

I hear her totter towards me, she turns on a lamp on the bar with a click. There she is, Belinda Weaver, just as I would always want to remember her. Treacherous high heals, tight black trousers, a shirt that cups her breasts with staggering tailoring, and her hair so perfect it was almost unreal. She has a torch in one hand, and a stake in the other.

"Miss Belinda Weaver," I say with a smile so wide it needs its own postal code.

"And you're the one that calls himself 'Lord Harry', I presume?" she giggles, sitting opposite me.

"Just 'Hal'," I add, the warm amusement of playing out our first meeting is not lost on me, but there is only one thing I need to know, "it's...is it really you?"

"In the flesh babes, accept no substitutes." Her tone is not as jovial as I have heard it before. She seems to be holding something back.

"How!" I ask with astonishment, wonder.

"Oh, I found my way out of purgatory, took some time. Did you know that place is timeless though? I swear I was there for years, healed up nicely but it took an age, and then I found a door. I took the opportunity and left, Stuart...well he couldn't come. Guess where I came out?"

"Where?"

"Not where, when? Funny thing about that place, apparently it's quite handy for time-travel. Who'da thought it, eh babes? I found myself starving, naked and in 1950."

"1950!"

"It's been a ball, I'll tell you."

"1950!"

"Repeating yourself is not cute Hal."

"Why didn't you..."

"Say hello?"

"Yes!"

"Good God, what would have happened?" She reaches out to me and places her hand upon my chin. She lifts it gently, "You'll catch flies that way, babes. I've been around, occasionally I would see how you were doing. I used to have ice cream at South End, watching Leo's old shop. I was rocking the shades and scarf look but luckily I can pull that off pretty well. I never came in, but I met them, your friends. They were nice. I've seen the world. I've done the most amazing things Hal. I've met the most amazing vampires. I've seen some phenomenal things, and earned a pretty penny thanks to some wise investments if you know what I mean. I've...I've not been as good as you though."

"What do you mean?"

"I can't keep sober Hal, I tried, for you. But it turns out I'm not as good as you."

"You can be."

"No," she smiles. It is a worldly smile, that of someone who has lived the life they have wanted and is ready to stop. I know that look, most vampires who reach it then shed the last of their human skin and become better monsters. "No I can't Hal, trust me. But I was going to try. I decided to try. I wanted to come back to see you. I sent postcards..."

"It was you."

She nods, "Didn't want to scare you, but after sixty years I have to admit I was eager to see you again. I just had to wait. Patience was never my strong suit, but I couldn't come until..."

"...after."

"I didn't think it was safe, not until you came back from Hull. Then...then the strangest thing happened."

"What...wait, what do you mean you were going to try?"

"I was staying at the hotel, here, the Barry Grand. I met this...man." She worries at the stake in her hand.

"A vampire?"

"No, something else. He told me to do something I don't want to do." She seems so horribly sad.

"What?"

"It doesn't matter, what matters is that I've put it off for too long and it hurts to keep trying."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to Belinda."

"I think we both know it's very common that we do things we don't want to, Hal. I didn't want to kill humans. I've been doing it. I didn't want to be 'with' Stuart, I did. I didn't want to leave you...but I had save you. That's life. It's full of doing things we don't want to do. I'll do what I've been told but I'm choosing to do something I want to do, first. I wanted to see you. I wanted to give you a gift. I wanted to say goodbye."

She stands and leans into me. She kisses me. It is a sweet longing kiss that tastes of patience and affection. It tastes like goodbye.

When she is done she stands and paces a little. I watch with concern. "Belinda?"

"It's okay, Hal. I have to do this, I have no choice. But I'll do something for you first...I'll going to ask you to do something you don't want to do. But you drank my blood so, you'll do it. I'm sorry, but it's for the best."

"What?" I have a horrible feeling she is going to stake me, whether she wants to or not. I call for my friends frantically, "Tom! Alex!"

She nods and walks over, she stands behind me. At first I think she is going to free me from the chair and then she leans down. She places her cheek next to my ear, "I love you, Harry Yorke," she says, "I always have, and I'm sorry. Goodbye, Hal. You have to forget me." she says, she is crying but they are tears of freedom. I hear the unmistakable crunch of a stake.

Tom and Alex arrive in the living room as quickly as they can. Alex rentaghosts to the bar. Tom trips down the stairs and over his own ankles with hurried panic. He carries Duncan in his hand and is poised to fight. They find me in the sitting room where they left me. I am surprised at their surprise.

"What?" I ask.

Alex looks around in horror. Tom coughs in the cloud of dust which fills the room.

"You called for us, what's going on?"

"Did I?" I ask, I don't recall calling for them. "Curious."

Tom walks around the room, checking everything. He passes behind me and pulls a pair of quite astonishing shoes from the shadow. He holds then up in the light. "Bloody Hell, was she here? Has she..." he says, then hops out of the dust. "Oh, shit! No."

"This place is a state, Tom. Tomorrow we're having a serious conversation about a cleaning rota," I insist. "How the hell did they get here! Honestly the crap you bring home."

Alex and Tom look at each other and nod. They seem to know something I don't.

"Sure, mate. You get some rest, eh?" says Tom.

He takes the shoes and walks to the door, he places them by the staircase. Alex puts her hand on the light, "You want to try and sleep Hal?" she says with surprising sadness. "I could stay with you, if you want?"

I think about it. I smile, "You know what, Alex, I think I'd like that."

She grins, "Boggle?"

"Boggle it is."

Funny, for a house with a ghost in it the B&B feels suddenly haunted. I feel as if I am being watched over as if something in the old building loves me more than I will ever know, and intends to keep me, and my friends, safe; whatever comes.

Acknowledgements.

So, as they say "that's all folks!"

No more Linny...at least not with Hal (who knows where she'll crop up if I get a bee in my bonnet and a good flashback story)

A big warm thank you for everyone of you that have read this and stuck with it from the begninning and those of you who have caught up on the journey since. Some Spon love for Seamaysae, whimsyfox, tangentiallyTJ, CatherineNewt, ShoePigeon & 0p0sitiv & MancVamp. Your reviews and engagement have been half the fun in writing this.

See you on the other side of Series 5. I'm sure it'll be a blast.

Spon #thesponeffect x