Chapter 72
When they arrived at Crow's Inn, it looked like the whole island had been invited to the wedding reception. Not that there were many souls living on Barra, it had to be said. For Candy and Terry, it felt as if they had arrived at the edge of the world. The mornings they woke and the nights they fell asleep, they did so by facing the sea. It spread up till where their eyes could see. Always there and always different, even if it seemed the same.
So, as they opened the door, they were ushered by the staff to a big room at the back which the pub owners kept for events such as weddings and dances. It was a plain room, with several floor-to-ceiling windows. Decorated with wild flowers, native to the island. Smelled like summer, on the valley they had crossed with their bicycles the same morning. A band was there too, made of typical ceilidh instruments. Flute, fiddle, accordion, mandolin, bodhran* (*Irish drum).
Sarah Burns came quickly to their side. Flustered, more like due to telling everyone where to go, which table to sit at and with whom, she also looked in her element, carrying her tasks as the wedding organiser with much aplomb.
"Ah, my dears!" She exclaimed with a high pitch in her voice. Helped perhaps with a couple of strong sherries? Who knew... perhaps...
Both Terry and Candy wore their widest smiles.
"You came!" She added. She opened her arms, as if she was about to hug them both at the same time. She gave their arms a good squeeze.
"We weren't going to miss it, Sarah." Candy commented. "Thank you for inviting us!"
"Let me show you to your table." She said and turned her back on them, already making her way towards a table close to a window, three tables away from where the bride and groom were.
Candy threw them a glance as they followed Sarah. They too were greeting people, swimming in happiness with their faces glowing, eyes gleaming. For a second or two, she felt jealous. Why couldn't life for her be this straight forward line? Follow the same road, that simple road countless other men and women followed before her. Find a nice fella to fall in love with, get married, work an honest, good work, and create a home, a family, a life, a decent life for the both of them.
She felt Terry's hand squeezing hers as they followed their landlady. She turned her head and faced him. Having not realised it, he too had glanced at the couple and then at her, and she had let her thoughts show as clear as the day inside those green eyes of hers. She knew then that he tried to reassure her. She had found the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. The problem was, what it always had been. Nothing came as a straight road where T.G. was concerned.
They were sat at a table with two other couples, both born and raised at Barra. They chatted cordially with them. Candy's and Terry's accents and where they came from, proved to be a point of discussion for the table, the young women were fascinated, the men followed with interest. They didn't meet very often a Broadway theatre actor and an American woman from Michigan, who used to be a nurse but was on a break, living for a while in London, out of all places.
Mrs Burns had introduced them as Mr and Mrs Graham and although there were no rings on their fingers, - whether the couples and everyone else for that matter had believed them or not, no one had showed it, nor there were any enquiries about it.
While they were having the main course of haggis with *neeps (*parsnips) and tatties
the traditional Scottish dish of sheep's stomach filled with the sheep's pluck minced and mixed together with oats and spices, served with turnips and potatoes, while sprinkled with whiskey and set on fire just before it was ready to eat. It was a total spectacle! That prompted another round of puzzled looks from Candy towards Terry who, alongside the couples explained all about that peculiar dish and waited in silence, till Candy had a bite, and lifted her head once she swallowed, burst into a smile and said it was delicious.
Was there anything Candy wasn't going to find delicious when it came to food?
There had been a moment, when everyone around the table having been more relaxed, once having eaten their dinner, just before the speeches one of the wives popped the question.
"How did then a Broadway actor and a nurse from Michigan found each other?"
It was a forward question but then again, it was a valid question. Love turns real at the most unexpected of places, between the most unlikely people, isn't that the case... ? Candy and Terry looked at each other and there was so much said in that meeting of gazes. A love story condensed in the briefest of moments. They turned and-
"We met at St. Paul's college in London." They said with one voice.
The air between them warmed up. Coloured their cheeks red. Without thinking she found her hand resting on his leg under the table. He paused.
Smiled.
Smiled that smile she had fallen in love with all those years back.
"We were both students there." He said and his voice had a warm timbre. Vibrated inside the hearts of the women listening. Their eyes softened.
There were exclaims of tenderness.
Awwwww...
"College sweethearts!" They exclaimed and tilted their heads sideways while squeezing of their shoulders together, turning to their husbands to confirm how the romance of the couple in front of them was one blessed with sweet, innocent origins.
A love endured since the first flutterings of youth.
Both Candy and Terry weren't entirely ready for that display of affection. Only yesterday they themselves had just about come in terms with their feelings. To be a couple, openly, was only now dawning on them. Especially while before, even when they were a couple, many years ago, it was only to them. Of course the others knew, but apart from Annie being obviously and actively happy for them both,
Patty and Stair were taking the first steps on their relationship, and that had rendered them partially blind to what was happening around them,
Archie really had never warmed up to the idea of Candy being with another boy, and that boy being Terry out of all the boys she could have picked from.
Candy's "mothers" -
Well she hadn't really shared anything with them either. She knew they knew...
Albert knew... but then again-
Candy and Terry were a very private couple. Neither of them were good in sharing their own feelings and their own shared reality. There were different reasons for that common point they shared. Candy simply put herself last. Always showing interest about how the others were. Despite being an extrovert, she hardly talked about herself. And Terry simply because he was used to living behind the walls he always had put around him.
The people they shared their table with, were already taken by the sweet romantic roots of the couple's relationship, and that was such a profound, new experience for both Candy and Terry. It almost felt like the slate had been wiped clean. To those people they were spending this night together and most probably, they would never see them again, they appeared as the face of enduring love, especially when himself an actor and herself a nurse came from such different worlds and yet, to the eyes of others, their relationship had worked.
There was no drama to be known. No heartache. No time lost. No tears.
No pain...
The realisation was something they had not expected. From then on and during that night, Terry and Candy had let everything that bothered them behind, and they had become part of the world of others. They were just two people who had loved each other for a very long time.
Nothing more, nothing less.
The speeches took place. Where a lot of emotion sat on the voices, throats were cleared, eyes wiped dry. The cake was cut, the alcohol flowed. The wedded couple passed from the tables. Greeted everyone, including Candy and Terry. They thanked them for inviting them on their special day. It was hard not to be swept up by the happiness and the warmth of those people. They wished them to have a happy life together and raised their glasses to them.
The band started warming up. The sun was on the descent over at the bay. Its light had turned mellow, honey coloured. The dance floor was lit by those warm sunset rays. The couple stood and within clapping and whistling, they moved to the centre of the dance floor.
The sound of the bagpipe...
Tears came on Candy's eyes. It was long, really long, another lifetime away, she had heard that sound...
"You are more beautiful when you smile little one..."
Whispers from another time.
The couple started dancing to the music of one of the most beautiful songs Candy had heard. They looked like floating in between the rays of the sun.
"Will ye go, lassie, will ye go?
And we'll all go together to pick wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather.
Will ye go, lassie, will ye go?"
The voices from everyone in the room joined in. Standing up, she felt Terry's arm passing around her waist. They faced each other. They didn't need to say it-
It could have been them up there, dancing with the sun on their faces.
The song finished and everyone erupted in wild clapping while the newlyweds beamed with happiness. Invited everyone to join to the ceilidh dance which was about to start.
"Dear friends and family, gather your partners and come up here to celebrate our wedding with the Good Fortune band playing the tunes for tonight." The groom said with a loud enough voice to be heard above the noise in the room.
The couples from all the tables got ready. The two couples on Candy's and Terry's table got up too. Turned -
"Why aren't you up?" They asked them.
Candy shook her head, almost laughing. "I'm afraid, I don't know... Terry do you know how to-?"
"No need to know anything. You'll learn on the go. No one sits down on a ceilidh." One of the wives said and grabbed Candy's hand to prompt her to stand up. She turned to Terry who also stood up. There was no escape from this. They laughed and felt grateful for the few drinks they already had consumed. At least, they wouldn't feel as self-conscious on the dance floor, looking like the odd couple with the two left feet.
For their own good luck, the band leader explained each dance before they started playing the music. Between the instructions and looking at other people's moves, they got pretty confident and loosen up completely. Let themselves free to enjoy the night and danced to their heart's content. The Scottish dances were not too complicated, even if some of them had a lot of moves between the guys and the girls. They were a little like line dancing as they happened in the barn dances in the States which Candy had witnessed occasionally when she was still a child.
When they left, it was close to eleven. They thanked everyone, once again for inviting them. It was an experience they would cherish, they both said.
They went down the road. Mr Burns had offered to drive them back to their cottage but they decided to walk. It was a beautiful clear night. That north up in Scotland, during summertime, the night darkness was gentle. Especially on a full moon night, even without it being daylight, you could see a twilight sun on the horizon. It stayed like a bright gold band of light through the night, till it started turning into daylight again around two in the morning.
In the quiet of the night, only their steps on the country road were heard. They daren't say much to each other. Terry had given his arm for Candy to hold. She, already having danced to her heart's content and drank her fair share of celebratory toasts, let herself enjoy her closeness to Terry; feel the warmness of his body under his shirt, radiating on her cheek.
For a while they discussed about the ceilidh, the newlyweds, the Burns, the Barra people... words, simple, inconsequential, yet those non-significant words,
that wee blether as their Scottish friends would say,
prolonged the sense of them being that couple that had grown older together in their minds, without traumas to talk through, without Susannas or Christians,
without secrets...
the couple that had happened to go out on their evening with some friends, had fun dancing and were returning on foot, on a night as serene as the deep sleep of a baby back to the warmth of their home.
Yes
They weren't ready yet. One more night, to spend inside the bubble they had created. Even if the bubble was growing smaller with the time past.
Tomorrow was after all another day...
He got up. Inside the bedroom was dark. The fire had died inside the fireplace of the room next door. The smell of sweat and their lovemaking filled the air. He felt his way to his trousers; he had thrown them blind, when their moves had turned almost frenzied, removing their clothes, desperate to feel the bare skin under their fingers.
They had groped each other, flesh was sucked and squeezed, was licked and bitten; tasted each other's juices, while the desire was erupting in goosebumps over their bodies and they, trying to breath in between kisses, held on each other with eyes glazed and lips that trembled.
Took some matches out the pocket, and walked back to the bed. He took the petrol lamp from the side table and lit it. He turned its wicker higher. The flame strengthened, its light flickered; their shadows moved on the walls,
and to her, seeing him standing naked in front of her, his skin glowing, he could as well have been one of those Greek God statues she'd seen inside the British museum the one time she ventured inside it. He left her breathless.
Their eyes met and she quickly turned her stare elsewhere, suddenly feeling conscious she had been staring with eyes still full of hunger for him.
Christian lifted the bedsheets and slid under them. He lied on his side, facing her. He had noticed her move. Alice kept surprising him. There was a wicked tenderness behind his eyes when he pushed the tip of her chin with his long fingers towards him;
wanting to stare at those eyes of hers which had been fixed on him, and his nakedness ,just a moment ago.
"Don't tell me, you are turning into a shrinking violet now, Miss Diamond..." He teased her even if his low, soft voice felt more like a dangerous caress to her. The dark pools inside his eyes had grown wide under the orange glow of the petrol lamp. She could stay lost inside them forever.
She loved that playful, teasing side of him, when she felt she had his undivided attention and there was nothing else in his mind than just them. She decided to give him as good as an answer as the tease she got from him.
"Don't flatter yourself, Mr. Blake. I am well versed to the male body and yours... however attractive as you may think it is to women..." She let her voice trail off while her eyes wandered down his chest and her hand lifted the bed covers. Before she had time to look further, he wrapped his arm around her waist and yanked her forward, towards him. Their sudden full body contact made the hair on the back of the neck stand up. The light flickered inside his eyes.
"I didn't hear you complaining..." His voice came out hoarse, warm, caressed her face.
Despite the havoc inside her, she didn't want to give in. Pursed her lips and had her eyes firmly fixed on his, defiant, playful. "Didn't want to hurt your feelings..." She responded and bit her lip, relishing their play with words. It was their last night together and she-
She was determined to spend it the way she wanted. Feel Christian on every part of her body, make him lose his mind, hear his sighs and groans she was responsible for, stamp a little bit of her inside his heart. After that night, once they were back in London, their ways would separate. She feared for what he had in mind doing. It was impossible to make him listen though.
He grazed her lips with his, felt them opening under his touch like honeysuckle when touched by the night moisture in the air. If he kissed her, they would make love again. He wouldn't resist her, just like he hadn't resisted her when she knelt in front of him and confessed her love for him. He had to admit it, even if he still felt raw over losing Rose... the woman who hadn't even managed to say her real name to him. He would never blame her, he understood why she did what she did. In fact, despite never revealing her real name and her past to him, he preferred it this way. Rose would be only for him. Even if the time they spent together was short, she had affected him greatly, enough to make him wish another life for him.
Alice never hid anything from him. Nothing. Whether good or bad, it did not matter. She wasn't afraid to feel, even if those feelings would lead to nothing. She had grown on him. He hated her presence at first and how she forced herself in his life. When he asked her to knife him that night, it was as if she grafted herself inside that open wound that oozed blood and life, she entered like a wild bud from another plant. Her presence took a life of its own and grew into a flower he kept looking bewildered, not wanting to acknowledge it, but it was there. He saw himself in the light that shone inside her eyes.
Instead of kissing her mouth, he moved up. Felt the delicate skin of her eyelids with his lips, closed his eyes, Her lashes flickered on his skin. He stroked the apple of her cheek with his thumb.
"It's late and we will need to wake up early in the morning..." He whispered, without wanting to play or fight with her. He could not deny he cared for her, and she was making it more difficult for both of them to say good bye...
She stopped him say more. Placed her fingers on his lips. "I know, Christian. I know we have to leave tomorrow, I know you have your plan to work out, you have mapped your life, the way you see fit and I'm no part in it." She started saying. At the same time, trying her damnest to quiet her heartbeat-
It was beating loud and fast inside the veins of her neck, pushing the lump she dreaded, more and more upwards, threatening to close her throat, risking to flood her eyes with tears she,
they had no place there, they had no place between them. She closed her eyes, to gather her thoughts.
"Listen-"
She placed her hands on his cheeks, staring at his beautiful face, staring at the play of the shadows on it, how his eyes shone, "I am not made of porcelain and I am not a child to be told what I can and cannot have,
What I want and don't want
Who to love and
I love you and you can do nothing about it,
Charles...
Can do nothing about it
I
can do
nothing about it.
Her voice turned hoarse as if her vocal cords where wrapped in wool. She cleared her throat and hoped to God not to cry.
"I am sorry I entered your life and I am sorry if I have played my part into making a mess of it..."
"But I don't regret it, because-
even if now I'm scared shitless of what you plan to do
What may happen if things don't work out-
and I wish...
I wish in some other time, things could have been different.
I don't regret it because
I got to know you-"
Christian didn't need, nor did he want to hear Alice say more. The more he let her say, the heavier his heart was turning. He stopped her by kissing her. Soft and slow, a kiss he hadn't given her before. Words weren't bearing any use. Not on that night, after all that took place. Instead, he squeezed her on him, turned on his back and felt her body on his, covering him, rubbing against him.
He pressed his hand on her cheeks for a moment and pulled her head back to see her face, the fever inside her gaze, her half opened lips, swollen and moist...
"Alice...
He wanted to say so much, but he would make things more complicated that what they already were. The words hit against his chest. Heavy, sighing to be heard.
"Promise me you will take care of yourself when we part." He said and gritted his teeth. "If something happens to you... "
She knew. She hadn't said what she said to Christian, to get back something from him. Certainly not a love confession. Having heard those last words from him, it was enough for her. Not wanting Christian to see her eyes welling up, she kissed him back and promised him she will be careful. He tasted the salt of her sighs on her promise and let himself open to her, to explore him the way Alice wanted that last night they had together.
Robert stared at the empty pints glasses he kept stacking in front of him, and the cold cigarette stubs looking too crowded inside the ashtray. Their numbers told him he had lost the track of time. He must had been sitting on that bar stool inside the Blind Beggar for God knows how long. He lifted his eyes and looked around him. Everyone was having a good time. No one really paid any attention to him. He could have been a ghost for all they knew. That case with the Raven and MacDonald, really, was sucking his life away. He had tailed both those men for so long; he had almost reached the end and all he could think of was exactly that.
The end.
When he could pass the handcuffs on both Christian and Charles. But he couldn't feel excited just yet. Most mistakes took place right at the end of a case where the detective would start to loosen up or think ahead, take the case for granted, as if it had already ended and that was definitely not true. He kept saying that. He took the chain watch out of his pocket.
It was ten already.
He decided it was time to go home. For a moment he hesitated though. What if Christian showed up... The place was pretty much buzzing at that hour. It would have been the perfect time for him to show up and go downstairs, pretty much without being noticed. He lit yet again, one last cigarette. If nothing happened while he smoked that cigarette, he would go home. He already had spent two hours, achieving absolutely nothing and at best his ego felt deflated at that point.
Ten more minutes past... He crushed the cigarette. He would be out of there.
Shouted at the barman, asked him of what he owed him. He gave him a banknote. It was getting late and his head felt heavy. He closed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Tough night Detective?"
Robert stopped right away and opened his eyes towards the voice. Charles MacDonald was standing in front of him from the other side of the bar. He pushed Robert's change towards his way.
"Not as tough your situation seems to be Charlie, for taking up work behind the bar." Robert gave back a quick reply.
The gangster gave him a dry laugh. He picked up a couple of glasses and a bottle of whiskey and walked out from behind the bar. He stopped in front of Robert. His eyes shone. Robert wondered whether he'd been high from cocaine.
"Let's find us a quieter corner, shall we?" Charles said within the noise. "We don't want that migraine of yours get any worse, Detective." He half turned to Robert as he led him to a private booth where they could chat more privately, without shouting to each other. They sat down at the table. Robert was indeed grateful for getting away from the crowd inside the pub which was getting rowdier as the night progressed. Charles poured a couple of whiskeys and gave one glass to Robert.
"I didn't expect to see you here, Detective." He said to him while he watched Robert taking a generous gulp, almost finishing his drink in one go.
"You can call me Robert, Charles." He replied, feeling the heat inside his eyes, once he gulped that whiskey down. "I'm off duty...Saturday night and all that." He smiled with his lips pressed.
"Mm!" Charles pushed the air out his nostrils with a sense of disbelief. "Very well. Robert. Relax then, no one is going to take your glass. You can drink slower..."
Charles had also a gulp from his drink. Looked at his glass for a little while before he turned his eyes back up to Robert. "You know, you had me pretty riled up after our meeting at the police station."
"Really?" It was Robert's turn to feign surprise. "How so?"
"You know Robert. Pretending don't doesn't suit you." Charles said and filled the glasses full. He took a cigarette out and lit it. Squinted for a moment as the smoke snaked up to the ceiling, the light from the weak electric lamp casting intricate ghostly shapes as it filtered through it. "It's been almost a week, Alice is missing."
"Yes..." Robert said. "I already know that. I told you so too."
"I do know..." Charles said and took one more gulp from his drink and a drag from his cigarette. "I really wondered why you called me to your office... when I left, I was fuming."
Robert didn't say anything. He waited to see where this was leading. "I realised, I had really nothing to say to you but you had pretty interesting stuff to say to me..."
"What is your point Charles? You can ask me without trying to make me drunk." Robert said to him, feeling his temper rising. He already had drunk a fair amount of alcohol and his patience was running thin that day.
"My point is that you brought me at your office that day, under the pretence of wanting to ask me questions about Christian Blake, when all you did was to push my buttons to make me angry..."
Fuck
Fuck
FUCK
Robert's face remained completely deadpan, despite what went on inside him. Fucking Christian and his plans. How could he have hoped to catch Charles on his own game when this man in front of him had tens of men under his command, most ready to die for him. You can call it loyalty but no, it wasn't. It was the FEAR. Fear for what could be holding up round the corner for them if they disobeyed... But he hadn't been at the top of the chain, just by the degree of violence he was capable of. He was also clever. Much more clever than the rest of the gangsters out on London's streets for quite some time now.
"So you see..." Charles said, "I keep trying now to work out, why you wanted me angry..." He concluded and stared at the untouched drink, in front of Robert. He moved his eyes back up on the man that sat opposite him. "Whiskey turned sour, Detective?" He asked him slowly.
The tension between the two men was as taut as the rope a tightrope walker was walking on. They were staring at each other, for what it seemed an eternity, while Charles's question remained hanging in the air, waiting for an answer which never came.
A man approached the booth. He looked at both Robert and Charles, he was almost hesitant to approach and interrupt what it seemed like being a serious conversation. Both men turned towards him. He leaned close to Charles's ear. He said something, out of which Robert caught a word. It was enough for him to make this night's troubles worth their while.
"Well, Robert, I guess we will have to continue this conversation at another time, soon..." He announced as he got up.
Robert nodded. "Sure." He replied. Charles didn't even wait to hear him say that. The man turned his back to leave too, but with a speed that surprised even Robert himself - given the number of drinks he had in him - he caught the wrist of the man before he even took a step away and stopped him right there and then.
"What the-" He murmured between his teeth and turned.
"I either take you now with me at the police station and you never get out of this alive or you tell me right here and now, what you said to Charles." He threatened the man with a determination in his voice which didn't leave the messenger of any doubts. Fear dawned inside his eyes, he pretended to take the glasses and clean the table, had a quick glance around and while he kept his gaze to the table, Robert heard his voice very clearly.
"He had a long distance phone call he had to take." The man said.
"Where from? Do you know?" Robert asked, feeling his heartbeat loud in his veins.
"The Barra up north in Scotland." The man said and left as quickly as he had arrived.
Robert didn't need anything else. He now knew where Christian had sent his sweetheart and as it looked Terry Graham had followed. Unbeknown to everyone else, MacDonald had already someone tailing them, and that he bet his balls, Christian had no idea about either.
He gritted his teeth. Got up and left Blind Beggar. Despite making his way to home and feeling worse for wear, he was pretty damn certain, it would take him a long time, if at all for sleep to find him that night.
When they arrived at their cottage, they did not want to go in yet. Such was the enchantment they felt by looking around them, up on the midnight blue sky with the thousands of stars scattered like her freckles on her face, Terry said. She saw the sparkle inside his eyes when he turned to her. They stared at that band of intense deep gold far away into the ocean. The colours multiplied through the calm ocean that acted like a mirror of wonders on that night.
"I have an idea..." He whispered to her.
He asked her to stay where she was and went in the house only to come out a few minutes after. He carried the portable gramophone on his hands. He passed by her and her surprised gaze and led the way. He didn't go too far away.
They stopped in front of their cottage, on the beach. It had grown almost double in size with the tide having drawn the coast line back into the sea. They walked further in and it felt they were walking towards the moon. Its light shone bewitching on the sky. The sand was wet but firm, beneath their feet. Terry put the gramophone down. He put a record on, turned the lever a few times and put the needle down.
Music floated on top of the slow waves of the ocean. It was Claire de Lune, played by a full orchestra. Candy thought she'd stopped breathing.
"Dance with me..." He said and gave her his hand.
She sunk inside his opened arms. Closed her eyes when she let her cheek rest on his chest. Her hand rested high on his back, the top of his shirt, the tips of her fingers grazed the skin his neck. They didn't speak but let the music take them away on a solitary journey, just the two of them. Swirled round in complete sync, as one. How they had looked for each other, inside their dreams and memories for so many years.
And now... it was like a fairytale, both did not want to end. The music slowed down. The strings became silent and only the piano played. Its notes felt like rose petals gliding in the midnight air. They stopped but their hearts were racing. She lifted her face and met with his eyes...
Time turned backwards. Stopped on another dance.
"You won't slap me if I kissed you..." He said and the warm timbre of his voice made her body vibrate.
She didn't answer. The love she felt for Terry had flooded her, had taken up her mind to the point she feared she was loosing the ability to command her body. He leaned forward, touched her lips with his. She raised herself on her toes, wanting to come closer, feel his kiss intensify, telling her things sometimes were better said without words.
The music ended. Another tune came on and he raised his head once again.
"I am sorry for before, Candy..." He began to say. "I came on too strong," He continued while she was still inside his arms, close to the warmth of his body, she felt intoxicating. "I know we only just met and things are far from ideal, but I don't want to lose you again."
"I don't want to lose you either, Terry!" She exclaimed. She meant it, with every fibre of her being. Right at the point, she even felt optimistic about them. She would come clean in the morning and-
The letter
Her handbag
She realised with a deep rooted panic which sprouted like a fountain in her belly and made her heart palpitate, she hadn't her bag with her when they returned.
She'd left it at the wedding reception.
She felt sweat at the roots of her hair. Terry straightened his body. "Is something wrong, Freckles?" He asked her.
She turned to him. Tried to downplay the anxiety she felt. "Oh, I must have left my bag at the wedding reception, Terry." She said, hoping she didn't sound she was panicking.
"It's late now to fetch it." He said back to her. "I'm sure they will keep it for you, if we pass by tomorrow to pick it up." He held her hand and stroked the top of it with his thumb. Her eyes met with his smile. She let her worry melt away. No point to destroy such a beautiful night for something she could do nothing about it.
The night grew, its embrace deepened. The fire Terry had lit higher up on the beach to keep them warm was on its last embers. They had stayed there for sometime, talking. Inside Terry's arms, Candy talked about the years she spent alone. Albert's illness and his passing away which closed the door to the old Candy.
"A smile to chase my sadness, had stopped being enough for a long time, Terry." She had whispered. "I lost the one man destiny had brought to me. He was my family, my guardian angel who was looking after me, from when I was just a kid, and I hadn't known because he never revealed his true identity till late."
While Candy hung on the memories, even from afar, through the press, she was putting Terry's life together, one article at a time. Scrutinised the photos of him. Had he looked happy? Was it sadness in his eyes she saw? Did he look content? Tired? Was he remembering her at all?
On the other side of this heartbreak, Terry.
"I was in a very dark place, Freckles, when I disappeared. In Rockstown I reached rock bottom. I heard your voice inside me, asking me. Was my breakdown the reason why we sacrificed what we had? I felt ashamed."
His words made her shudder. She didn't tell him, she was there in Rockstown. She was there inside that filthy tent. She preferred it that way. For him, not knowing, he didn't need to.
A lot of pain that night melted like snowflakes falling inside the ocean.
They had stood up, ready to go inside. Despite the late of the hour, there was a lightness they felt inside their hearts.
"I know you worry about Christian, Candy." He said to her all of a sudden and he pressed his lips.
Christian was a subject they hadn't touched at all during that evening. Consciously, it has to be said, from both sides. For different reasons but it was the same result. It was a decision which Terry took while they were talking. If he and Candy had a chance to be happy together, they couldn't keep sensitive subjects buried away. And if he had to be honest, being there alone with Candy, while both of them were totally in love with each other,
not really believing on one hand that this was truly happening-
Christian's fate hanging in the balance was the one element which didn't leave Terry feel that their happiness was complete. He hated that his name was lurking in the shadows of Candy's heart.
Candy didn't say anything to this sudden statement from Terry. It was very unexpected, so much so he had left her speechless. "As much as I love us being here, the two of us, keep a distance from what is happening in London, I know your mind isn't one hundred percent here with me, with us, and I want you Freckles-
I did say before, I don't want to share you with anyone."
He saw her face tensing when he said the last words. He hadn't said those words though to come to a confrontation with her, even if he came close to losing his temper on the boat. So quickly he continued. "What I propose is for us to return to London. But, you will stay with me at Claridge's. I won't listen to any alternatives. I won't have you staying alone in your house and I prefer us staying somewhere safer than your house. I don't know where Christian is, he never said but at least, we will be there if he needs... our help."
Tears came to her eyes, almost instantly. She nodded to him. She raised herself up, to the tips of her toes and kissed him. "Thank you, Terry." She said quietly.
While the stars above them started fainting, the morning star of Venus shone bright on the sky. The light of the new day had started creep in slowly, silently, like the hopes they both had for a future together.
He opened his eyes. Stayed for a little just lying on the bed. A sweet heaviness was weighing down on his limbs that felt still numb. They hadn't slept much. Alice was on his side, fast asleep, her arm spread across his chest. He had given in to her wishes, he had let her dictate everything last night. They made love time and again, short and hot and then sweet and slow, both taking their time with the other's wants and desires, he had mapped her body down to its every detail and she had done the same. He held her in his arms and they talked about their past, growing up in the same London but being in worlds that could have been on different planets. He took care and didn't mention Rose once, despite the flashes he had lighting up in his mind.
Not so long ago, it was another goodbye with her.
Could it become his fate? Saying goodbye to those he came to love... ?
That night belonged to Alice. He pushed her arm back, being as gentle as he could. He didn't want to wake her up.
He got dressed in the living room. The early morning chill stuck on his skin like a transparent film, making his flesh feeling taut. He wasn't going to wait for her. He hadn't the-
He couldn't face her. Once he arrived in London, he would send Nicolas with the car to pick her up and he could drop her wherever she wanted to. He also wanted to see Charles, before he knew that Alice was back in London.
He peeked once more inside the bedroom, gazed at the sleeping woman, looking calm, serene, beautiful, he gritted his teeth. He left.
Lakewood wasn't as it used to be. Candy thought while she was standing inside her old room.
Despite the happiness around her, there was something missing. She knew it inside. The empty rooms with the covered furniture and the dust of years of neglect over them.
Someone should open the windows and the doors, airing the rooms... The paint in parts was peeling off the walls. The rose garden had grown wild. The Sweet Candy roses fought for space through the weeds which had turned enormous. Big strong stalks, wide leaves, looking threatening in size over the delicate roses.Wasn't Mr. Whitman looking after them?
Yet...
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was barefoot, wearing just a dress. It was a wedding dress. It was long. A pure white column of heavy silk, gathered at her waist with a white satin belt. Her hair fell below her shoulders, a cloud of blond curls. She could have jumped out the pages of Greek mythology.
She heard voices outside the door.
Terry's voice.
Terry...
He wanted to see her. He had to see her.
Panic set in. He couldn't see her. It is bad luck to see the bride. She looked around. Opened a door.
Found herself in a corridor. Plain old corridor. Despite the dim light, she could tell.
Hospital, she was inside a hospital.
Candy!
Terry's voice echoed behind her.
Wait!
No, no, no...
Rushed through, run with her heart between her teeth. Struggling for a breath. She approached one more door and opened it.
The roof... She had been here before...
The wind lashed on her face, freezing, relentless, menacing.
She saw someone leaning over the roof rails, folded like a rag on 'em. A deep sense of dread spread like a dark cloud. She went close.
Christian.
He was the one on the roof rails. Unconscious and bleeding from where he was stabbed. She hugged him tight, tried to move him but she couldn't do it. The tears run cold down her face. He groaned in pain.
Candy... I've been looking for you
Hearing him speak she froze. The fear turned her blood to ice. With all her strength, pulled him from the rails. Saw his ashen face.
It was Terry...
She took a sharp breath in and her eyelids popped open as if an invisible presence had yanked her out of her nightmare with as much urgency as saving someone from certain drowning. Waited for a few moments, for her heart to calm down. The dream she had seen, had disturbed her to the very roots of her soul. She really hoped, it was just nerves that brought that nightmare.
After all the night she had with Terry had been amazing. Beautiful, tender, full of the love they felt for each other. A love that had endured through a decade. They had been through a lot. They had changed even more. And yet, the love was never lost. They had fallen asleep, once they let their bodies satisfy the ever burning desire theirs souls felt for each other.
Slowly, she got out the bed. It was an overcast day in comparison to the previous glorious summer days they had on the island. The clouds entered her heart. She would have preferred the weather to be sunny. To lift the bad feelings which had stayed behind like stains from that nightmare she couldn't shift. She washed and came back in the room to get dressed.
Terry was awake. Was following her with his eyes. She smiled.
"Good morning, my love." She said and walked towards his side, gave him a kiss on his lips.
She pulled back. Saw the question on his face. "I would have grabbed you back here on the bed, Freckles... but you seem pretty determined to do whatever it is you want to do..." He said.
She stopped. Sighed. "It's my bag, Terry." She said, put her hands on her hips. "I need to go get it."
"Well if it makes you that anxious to reunite yourself with your bag, go." He said and got up. Fetched the trousers of his pyjamas and pulled them on. "I was thinking of us having breakfast and then go together towards the pub, but..." He added, pushed his hand inside his hair, thinking.
He turned. Walked towards her, gave her a soft kiss. Pulled back and bit his bottom lip. "Go, before I keep you here. You're just as sexy, looking worried about your little bag." He smiled. "I'll have a shower and cook us breakfast, ok?"
"Yes!" She exclaimed, happiness shining inside the green lakes of her eyes.
Inside the cabin in the woods, Alice was awake. She opened her eyes and...
She didn't need to jump up from the empty bed and run inside the living room, holding just the bed sheets. But she did it. In the faintest hope that what she feared wasn't true. Christian had left.
On the dining table, there were some papers. Walked towards them. There was a note for her. She picked it up to read it.
Alice,
I am sorry I left alone. You will be angry with me, I know.
Forgive me. I could not say good bye. Perhaps it is better that way.
I am sending Nicholas with his car for you.
Remember your promise and be careful, please.
Christian
Her stare fell on the papers still left on the table. She let a sob, her eyes teared up. Her fingers trembled when she picked the papers up. It was drawings of her. She brought them to her face. Smelled the ink. Stared at the lines, at her naked body. How featherlike and confident those lines were. Just like when they made love. She remembered his long fingers, stained by his inks, caressing her skin.
Your skin like alabaster,
I imagined you under the moonlight,
you being one of the forest nymphs coming out at night,
stealing souls...
She collapsed on the chair. She was angry. Fuming!
She wanted to tear the drawings to pieces and yet, they were the most precious thing for her... For others, she had been a criminal, a woman of the underground, a body to take pleasure from, a million other things and nothing of those was what she saw on those drawings.
How Christian saw her...
She wiped the tears with the back of her hands and got up. She'd go to London and find him. He couldn't just leave her there with that note and those drawings and not say something. Anything. The time wasn't passing fast enough for Alice. Arriving in London was all she cared for right then.
He had just come out the shower, when he heard the knock on the door. He wore his bathrobe before he answered the door. He wondered who could have been this early in the morning, given it was Sunday.
"Good morning Mr. Graham." Mrs. Burns said to Terry while a wild blush coloured her cheeks like ripe apples, seeing him dripping water down his neck and part of his chest which was showing from inside the tied bathrobe. "I caught you in a awkward time, I am so sorry!" She excused herself.
"Good morning Mrs. Burns-
errr, Sara! Please don't worry." Terry replied, sounding surprised to see her standing there but equally trying to not make feel bad. "Do come in." He added, not wanting to get across as rude, even though he forgot, he was just in his bathrobe. On the other hand, they had been to their niece's wedding dance after all the night before.
"Oh! No, no, no! That is ok Mr. Graham! Thank you very much! I wasn't intending to stay." She commended, flapping her hands in the air frantically almost. She would rather be caught dead than enter the house of a man half naked, alone. "Really, I just came to bring you your wife's bag from last night. She's not here?" She asked and craned her neck, trying to see behind Terry.
"Oh, but! Well! Thank you Sarah!" He said and took the bag from the woman's hands.
If Candy hadn't rushed out as if she was chased, she would have been here and she wouldn't need to cycle all the way to Crow's Inn to get her bag.
He smiled. "No. As a matter of fact, she left to go to the pub for the exact same reason. She must be there by now."
"Oh, what a shame I didn't arrive earlier!" She exclaimed. "It was really great to have you and your wife last night at the Ceilidh dance." The woman added with a big smile.
"We really had a great time! Thank you for the invite, really!"
Sarah fixed her eyes on the bag which was still in Terry's hand. "There should be everything in the bag by the way, if you want to check for yourself."
"Oh, that won't be necessary..."
"Please, I insist! When it comes to other's folks property, good fences make good neighbours Mr. Graham." She said and grabbed Terry's wrist all of a sudden. She really felt very persuasive.
Terry couldn't do otherwise. He took a long breath in. "Well, I won't argue with that." He said and opened Candy's bag for a quick inspection. She had a lipstick, a small mirror, cigarettes, a couple of hair clips, a pair of nylon tights, a money clip with some bank notes and...
A white envelope, just about the size his palm and a bit, the classic letter envelope in other words, stood behind the tights, tucked inside a thin, stiff compartment of her bag. For some reason, unknown to him at that time, he felt his heart beat go up. He raised his face from the bag. Arched his brow, putting his charm in place.
"All's here, Sarah. Thank you for the trouble really." He said with a soft voice and smiled to her.
"Oh! There was no trouble at all, Mr. Graham!"
"Terry." He corrected her.
"Terry." She repeated and smiled that awkward smile that hovered between fancying someone and feeling all shy about it. He knew about that smile.
She took a deep breath in. That was as much excitement as she could have had for a month! Straightened her posture, chest up. "Well then... Terry, I better be going. Give my regards to Mrs. Graham."
"Rose." He said,
"Rose! Of course!" She repeated and walked back to her car. Terry waved her goodbye.
Behind the closed door, his smile evaporated as quickly as the sun had been hidden behind the clouds on the Scottish sky. He dry swallowed. He really didn't know why this envelope unnerved him that much. He closed his eyes for a moment. Took the bag inside the bedroom. Left it on the dressing table and started getting dressed. He only managed to wear his boxer shorts and his trousers before-
Before, he rushed to the dressing table. Picked up the bag and opened it. Took the envelope out. Turned it.
For Christian Blake