"Hello, Ms Croft," a deep American accent drawled behind me, and, jumping visibly, I spun round to find Kurtis leaning against the kitchen table behind me, regarding me with slight incredulity. "You do your own laundry?" he said, and then, "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you."
I smiled, brushing off his apology, and returned to taking the clean clothes out of the drier and folding them into a hamper.
"Hillary's my only household staff, and he can't do everything. Besides," I said, sounding slightly offended, "I'm down to earth – I don't expect to be waited on hand and foot just because I'm a Lady."
"I thought all ladies wanted waiting on hand and foot," Kurtis threw back, folding his arms and crossing one ankle over the other, inhaling sharply as an apparent twinge of pain ran through his body.
"Careful," I said, "there's a reason you're on crutches you know – a couple of inches – " Kurtis cut me off.
"A couple of inches to the right and I'd have been paralysed, yeah, I heard the doc." He adjusted his position slightly and leant his hands on the table to take some of the weight off his abdomen.
"Why don't you just, for one second," I said, jabbing his shoulder lightly, "stop posing and act like the injured party you are. Besides, I rather get the impression posing hasn't got you very far with the ladies."
"Just making an observation about the feminine views on the role of man," he replied, taking my advice and sinking into a chair. There was silence for a second, and then he began, "Lara – "but at that moment Bryce walked in, and Kurtis went quiet.
"Hey up," he greeted us, moving past me and delving into the fridge. Removing some cold pizza from it, he came and stood next to me. "What're you talking about?"
"Oh, nothing," I said, and then, "Bryce – that pizza is four days old and it's cold – that's disgusting."
"Tastes alright to me."
I turned back to Kurtis. "I'm sorry, what were you going to say?" Kurtis didn't answer, distracted by something happening behind me.
I turned to find Bryce just ducking out of the room with one of my bras. "Bryce!" I yelled, dropping the washing I'd been folding and catching up to him in a few steps. I grabbed his arm and snatched my underwear back, then proceeded to smack him with it numerous times. He hid himself behind his arm, laughing.
"Ow! Lara, stop it!"
Screaming in mock frustration, I smacked him once more for good measure before turning on my heel and storming off dramatically. The whole encounter was watched over by Hillary, who gave Bryce a withering look and then shoved a duster in his hand.
"Go and clean Lara's study," he ordered, pointing Bryce away.
Still giggling, Bryce did as he was told, and I rolled my eyes and tittered. Re-entering the kitchen, I found Kurtis laughing to himself, and, throwing my bra back into the hamper, I said, "Oh. Very funny."
Kurtis quietened down and I questioned him once again as to what he was originally going to say. His manner suddenly became very guarded, and he looked away, out of the kitchen window.
"Nothing, it doesn't matter."
Clearly, he had wanted to say something, but had lost his nerve when Bryce had interrupted, and I could almost guarantee it was about Prague. I dropped the lid back on the hamper, leaving it for Hillary or Bryce to put away, and moved past Kurtis to the back door, tugging on his sleeve as I passed.
"Come on," I said, opening the door, "I want to show you something."
Kurtis followed me round the bend of the woodland track and was suddenly presented with the view I wanted to show him. "Wow."
We stood in silence for a few moments, taking in the spectacular panorama of several miles of countryside falling away beneath us from our position on the edge of a steep drop off created by land erosion and time.
"That's.....wow."
I smiled, and pointed to a nearby log that made for a convenient seat. We sat, positioning so we could still look out over the wilderness, the house still in view behind us. We were on the edge of the woodland on my land, near to the area I used for target practice.
"Bryce and I used to come here a lot when we were dating."
Kurtis' eyes shot towards me, he looked mildly surprised and very uncomfortable. Shifting, he muttered, "I don't even wanna think about what's been going on, on this log."
I laughed out loud, my sudden outburst startling the birds around us.
We were quiet again, surveying the view, the air around us slightly tense. I decided to chance asking Kurtis about Prague, the whole reason I'd brought him here, somewhere we could be alone and talk. Playing it safe, I tried to make it seem as if I was centring the talk on myself.
"Why did you tell me to go and kill Eckhardt, Kurtis?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why did you stay to fight Boaz and send me to kill Eckhardt, when you wanted him?"
"Boaz needed taking care of."
"I could have done it."
"The ledge of the pit was too high – one of us needed to go after Eckhardt, one of us needed to take care of Boaz, and I could use my powers to give you an extra boost out of the pit – you were the logical choice to go."
"No, Kurtis, you chose to stay. I could have helped you out and then killed Boaz from the ledge. Instead you chose to stay down there in the danger and let me go and avenge your father's death for you."
He didn't speak, so I tried to prompt him. "Didn't you want closure?"
Kurtis sighed and looked at the ground, picking up a stick and jabbing it at the soft earth at his feet.
"I didn't trust myself."
I stayed silent, waiting for him to go on.
"I honestly don't know if I'd have bothered going after Eckhardt if he hadn't killed my father. But he did, and I wanted justice." He was quiet again, and he must have been remembering what I'd said in the airlock, because he continued, "I wanted revenge. And I didn't trust myself to be able to face Eckhardt with a clear head and finish the job properly. My anger would have got in the way."
I touched his arm, suddenly realising just how hard the adjustment was for him.
"I'm still angry," he whispered, "Angry that I didn't get to kill him."
"It was all an act, wasn't it?" I said, "You seemed so cool out there. Untouchable. You were raging inside the whole time, weren't you?"
"Yeah." His voice was still a whisper, but fierce and bitter.
We sat a while longer, both knowing that now he'd started that he'd carry on, but waiting for the moment when he'd begin again.
"For years – I had him to focus on. To shoot for. Eckhardt. That's all I had to think about, all I had to deal with. And now it's done, and I don't know what comes next. I've drifted and I've tracked and put everything else on hold and now I'm done – now Eckhardt's dead – " Kurtis stopped.
More long moments of silence followed. I knew exactly what he meant, but I wanted him to finish, to admit everything to himself.
"I have nothing to return to." He continued staring at the floor, blinking furiously, his hands clasped so tight that his knuckles were stark white. I shifted closer to him and placed my hands on his, just sitting there with him, sharing.
I smiled, brushing off his apology, and returned to taking the clean clothes out of the drier and folding them into a hamper.
"Hillary's my only household staff, and he can't do everything. Besides," I said, sounding slightly offended, "I'm down to earth – I don't expect to be waited on hand and foot just because I'm a Lady."
"I thought all ladies wanted waiting on hand and foot," Kurtis threw back, folding his arms and crossing one ankle over the other, inhaling sharply as an apparent twinge of pain ran through his body.
"Careful," I said, "there's a reason you're on crutches you know – a couple of inches – " Kurtis cut me off.
"A couple of inches to the right and I'd have been paralysed, yeah, I heard the doc." He adjusted his position slightly and leant his hands on the table to take some of the weight off his abdomen.
"Why don't you just, for one second," I said, jabbing his shoulder lightly, "stop posing and act like the injured party you are. Besides, I rather get the impression posing hasn't got you very far with the ladies."
"Just making an observation about the feminine views on the role of man," he replied, taking my advice and sinking into a chair. There was silence for a second, and then he began, "Lara – "but at that moment Bryce walked in, and Kurtis went quiet.
"Hey up," he greeted us, moving past me and delving into the fridge. Removing some cold pizza from it, he came and stood next to me. "What're you talking about?"
"Oh, nothing," I said, and then, "Bryce – that pizza is four days old and it's cold – that's disgusting."
"Tastes alright to me."
I turned back to Kurtis. "I'm sorry, what were you going to say?" Kurtis didn't answer, distracted by something happening behind me.
I turned to find Bryce just ducking out of the room with one of my bras. "Bryce!" I yelled, dropping the washing I'd been folding and catching up to him in a few steps. I grabbed his arm and snatched my underwear back, then proceeded to smack him with it numerous times. He hid himself behind his arm, laughing.
"Ow! Lara, stop it!"
Screaming in mock frustration, I smacked him once more for good measure before turning on my heel and storming off dramatically. The whole encounter was watched over by Hillary, who gave Bryce a withering look and then shoved a duster in his hand.
"Go and clean Lara's study," he ordered, pointing Bryce away.
Still giggling, Bryce did as he was told, and I rolled my eyes and tittered. Re-entering the kitchen, I found Kurtis laughing to himself, and, throwing my bra back into the hamper, I said, "Oh. Very funny."
Kurtis quietened down and I questioned him once again as to what he was originally going to say. His manner suddenly became very guarded, and he looked away, out of the kitchen window.
"Nothing, it doesn't matter."
Clearly, he had wanted to say something, but had lost his nerve when Bryce had interrupted, and I could almost guarantee it was about Prague. I dropped the lid back on the hamper, leaving it for Hillary or Bryce to put away, and moved past Kurtis to the back door, tugging on his sleeve as I passed.
"Come on," I said, opening the door, "I want to show you something."
Kurtis followed me round the bend of the woodland track and was suddenly presented with the view I wanted to show him. "Wow."
We stood in silence for a few moments, taking in the spectacular panorama of several miles of countryside falling away beneath us from our position on the edge of a steep drop off created by land erosion and time.
"That's.....wow."
I smiled, and pointed to a nearby log that made for a convenient seat. We sat, positioning so we could still look out over the wilderness, the house still in view behind us. We were on the edge of the woodland on my land, near to the area I used for target practice.
"Bryce and I used to come here a lot when we were dating."
Kurtis' eyes shot towards me, he looked mildly surprised and very uncomfortable. Shifting, he muttered, "I don't even wanna think about what's been going on, on this log."
I laughed out loud, my sudden outburst startling the birds around us.
We were quiet again, surveying the view, the air around us slightly tense. I decided to chance asking Kurtis about Prague, the whole reason I'd brought him here, somewhere we could be alone and talk. Playing it safe, I tried to make it seem as if I was centring the talk on myself.
"Why did you tell me to go and kill Eckhardt, Kurtis?"
"What do you mean?"
"Why did you stay to fight Boaz and send me to kill Eckhardt, when you wanted him?"
"Boaz needed taking care of."
"I could have done it."
"The ledge of the pit was too high – one of us needed to go after Eckhardt, one of us needed to take care of Boaz, and I could use my powers to give you an extra boost out of the pit – you were the logical choice to go."
"No, Kurtis, you chose to stay. I could have helped you out and then killed Boaz from the ledge. Instead you chose to stay down there in the danger and let me go and avenge your father's death for you."
He didn't speak, so I tried to prompt him. "Didn't you want closure?"
Kurtis sighed and looked at the ground, picking up a stick and jabbing it at the soft earth at his feet.
"I didn't trust myself."
I stayed silent, waiting for him to go on.
"I honestly don't know if I'd have bothered going after Eckhardt if he hadn't killed my father. But he did, and I wanted justice." He was quiet again, and he must have been remembering what I'd said in the airlock, because he continued, "I wanted revenge. And I didn't trust myself to be able to face Eckhardt with a clear head and finish the job properly. My anger would have got in the way."
I touched his arm, suddenly realising just how hard the adjustment was for him.
"I'm still angry," he whispered, "Angry that I didn't get to kill him."
"It was all an act, wasn't it?" I said, "You seemed so cool out there. Untouchable. You were raging inside the whole time, weren't you?"
"Yeah." His voice was still a whisper, but fierce and bitter.
We sat a while longer, both knowing that now he'd started that he'd carry on, but waiting for the moment when he'd begin again.
"For years – I had him to focus on. To shoot for. Eckhardt. That's all I had to think about, all I had to deal with. And now it's done, and I don't know what comes next. I've drifted and I've tracked and put everything else on hold and now I'm done – now Eckhardt's dead – " Kurtis stopped.
More long moments of silence followed. I knew exactly what he meant, but I wanted him to finish, to admit everything to himself.
"I have nothing to return to." He continued staring at the floor, blinking furiously, his hands clasped so tight that his knuckles were stark white. I shifted closer to him and placed my hands on his, just sitting there with him, sharing.