Moonlight (15 page)

“Because you’re pretending I’m her again,” she said. “This is where she used to come and stand, isn’t it?”

“No,
Frances
never came out here and stood in the moonlight,” he said, whispering Frances’s name.  “By the time we moved here, she was very sick. She could hardly sit u
pright, let alone stand
. I promise you,
that’s
not the reason you are standing here.”

“Why then?” she asked, searching his eyes, desperate to see if he was lying to her.

“Because you look beautiful,” he said again.

“I don’t believe it,” she whispered, and pulled her hand free.

“You don’t believe it because you don’t want to believe it,” he told her. “You’ve spent too many years of your life listening to people telling you that you are no good, that you are worthless and ugly. Why do you believe them and not me? You keep telling me to start over. Perhaps you should try practicing what you preach.”

It wasn’t Winnie who finally walked away, but Thaddeus. He turned away and headed back towards the house. At the front door, he looked back, but Winnie couldn’t be sure if he were looking at her, or having one last look into the shadows amongst the trees behind her.

By the time they had finished eating the girl, she was nothing more than a bunch of bones. Since the murder of the girl and her baby, the fact that there was now a massive police hunt for the killers didn’t even bother them. They had just killed again, and what little flesh remained covered the blood-drenched mattress in stringy lumps. The female armed away the blood from her lips, while the two males licked their hands clean. The poky house on the outskirts of St. Ives held nothing else of interest. They had taken what they’d come for. Again, it had all been so very easy, and the male wondered if the humans would ever learn. If only he could meet one that resisted him, a girl who would offer a challenge. He knew the feeding would be so much sweeter for it.

“Satisfied?” he asked the others as he turned to leave the room, glancing down one last time at the bed, just in case there was any flesh he might have missed on the stripped carcass.

“No, Claude,” the female said, crossing the room to him.

He could tell her hunger had been sedated as the fire in her eyes had faded – a little. She ran a slender set of fingers down his cheek. Claude spied a small spot of flesh in the corner of her mouth, and he slowly licked it away with the tip of his tongue. She kissed him back.

“We should be gone already,” the other male said, brushing past them and heading for the front door.

Claude pushed the female away, and she smiled at him. “Why is he so tense tonight?”

“You know why,” Claude said, heading out of the room.

And Michelle did know why. It was Frances. Everything was always about Frances. Without looking back, Michelle left the room and the bony remains of the girl, which glistened in the moonlight that poured through the window.

Winnie woke with a start. She sat up in bed, her heart racing. Had she dreamt about Thaddeus again? She couldn’t be sure. The dream seemed just out of reach inside her head. Winnie closed her eyes in an attempt to claw it back. She wanted to recapture whatever had caused her heart to race; not out of fear, but an excitement you might feel when being close to someone you were att
racted to. H
owever much she screwed her eyes shut, she couldn’t quite see who it was that lingered in the fog of her mind.

Thinking of Thaddeus, she showered and dressed, no
t in one of those violet tops
or black skirts, but the denims and sweater she felt more comfortable wearing. As she made her way downstairs, she wondered what she would do to fill her day until Thaddeus woke that evening. She knew the windows needed cleaning for sure, and seeing as he was paying her to keep the house tidy, she thought she would make a start on the window where she had sat at Thaddeus’s request. Winnie reached the bottom of the stairs and turned towards the kitchen, needing a slice of toast and coffee before she started to do anything. Pushing open the kitchen door and wishing that Thaddeus had agreed to show her around St. Ives that day, she stopped short when she saw him standing at the kitchen table. Sunlight poured in through the dirty windows,
causing what appeared to be a halo around his head and shoulders. He glanced up at her in the open doorway.

“Thaddeus?”
Winnie gasped, not expecting to see him standing there. After he had walked away from her the night before, he’d disappeared upstairs and she hadn’t expected to see him until dusk.

“Good morning, Winnie,” he smiled back at her.

“I didn’t expect you to be awake.” Then glancing up at the clock above the cooker, she added, “It’s only eight-thirty in the morning.”

“It’s such a beautiful day,” he smiled at her, as he placed a flask and some croissants into a small wicker basket that sat on the kitchen table. “Besides, it’s my way of saying sorry.”

“Sorry for what?” she frowned. 

“For being such a grouch last night,” he started to explain. “I didn’t mean to walk off. I thought about what you said, and you were right. I should get out more. Hiding away all day and not facing the world isn’t going to help me.” Then closing the lid on the basket, he picked it up and added, “And I would love to show you around. I thought we could have breakfast on the beach.”

“Are you serious?” Winnie wanted to squeal with excitement, but she held it back.

H
e winked at her and said, “C’mon. I know this really pretty spot. You’ll love it.”

Thaddeus led Winnie through the crop of trees in front of the house and towards the narrow coastal path which led down to the shore. As they
walked together, Winnie looked up at the pale winter sun, and Thaddeus had been right, for February it was a beautiful day. Too nice to be clea
ning windows, she thought. M
ore than that, Winnie was so happy that Thaddeus had decided not to spend the day locked in his room, but with her.

The path led down towards the cliff’s edge, and as they neared it, the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks below boomed in their ears. A fresh breeze blew Winnie’s auburn hair
around her shoulders and face. S
he dragged her hair from her eyes with her free hand. With St. Ives behind them, Thaddeus steered Winnie along the path which now sloped downwards.  Throwing Thaddeus a sideways glance, she realised she hadn’t actually seen him in daylight, and his skin was pale, the light brown stubble that covered the lower half of his face looking like a shadow.
Like her own,
his messy hair waved to and fro in the salty breeze. Again, she couldn’t help but think of how good-looking he was, and what a shame that he kept himself locked away. He was still so young and would have a lot to give. As she threw him the occasional glance, Winnie knew
,
if she were being honest with herself, that she was growing to like
him
, despite his odd ways. The little voice buried deep inside of her didn’t want Winnie to admit that. The little voice didn’t want Winnie having feelings for such a complex man. Men like that could be dangerous, the
voice tried to warn her. A
s if twisting the dial on a radio, Winnie turned down the volume on that little voice.

The path led to a small, sandy shore which was shaped like a golden horseshoe and lay at the foot of the cliffs. The beach was desolate and
seagulls
squawked overhead.
There was a small, grassy bank which was covered in long shoots of purple heather. The sea rushed up the shoreline in long, foamy waves. Thaddeus had been right; this place was beautiful, Winnie thought. Then, just on the other side of the cove, she noticed what appeared to be a cave in the side of the cliff face. The mouth of it looked dark and the rocks all around it were black and slick, worn smooth by years of waves crashing against them.

“Is that a cave?” she asked, pointing into the distance.

“Yes, but you can only reach it when the tide is out,” he said. “But even then I wouldn’t risk it.
Could be dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” Winnie asked.

“The tide can come in quicker than you think,” he explained. “You could get trapped. That cave fills up pretty good with water and you could drown.” Then changing the subject, he said, “Let’s take our shoes off or they’ll get wet.”

They took off their socks and trainers, and snatching them up with the basket, Thaddeus placed them out of the reach of the waves and on the grassy bank. Winnie watched as he pulled the black turtleneck top he was wearing from over his head and threw it down next to their shoes. Then rolling up the bottoms of his jeans, he ran into the sea.

“C’mon, Winnie!” he called out to her, splashing water with his hands.

“It’s cold,” she yelped, as the waves crashed over her toes.

“Aww, don’t be such a baby!” he laughed.

So pulling the sweater from over her head to reveal a little black vest, and rolling up her jeans, she tiptoed into the water. “It’s freezing!” she cried, wading towards him, arms wrapped around
herself
to keep warm.

“It’s not cold,” he grinned, spraying her with water.

“Thaddeus!” she shrieked, the water covering her.
“Right!
So that’s how you want to play it!”

With her hands trailing in the sea, she splashed him with a wave of water. It covered him completely and he stood looking at her with water running through his hair, down his face, and over his naked chest. 

“Look what you’ve done!” he laughed, running his long fingers through his hair. “I’m soaked. Right – now you’re
in
for it!”

“No!” Winnie squealed as she waded away from him as fast as she coul
d, back towards the shore. S
he wasn’t quick enough, and she felt icy cold droplets of water soak her back. Winnie reached the shore, and with the sand seeping through her toes, she snatched up her sweater and ran towards the grass.

Thaddeus was right behind her, his hands cupped together, brimming with seawater.
S
he turned, and doing so, she tripped over the wicker basket and fell into the grass. Rolling onto her back, she looked up to find Thaddeus towering over her, seawater dripping from between his fingers.

“Don’t you dare!” she warned him, a smile on her lips.

“You should never dare me,” he laughed, and splashed her with the water.

Winnie waved her hands out in an attempt to bat away as much of the freezing
cold
water as possible, but just as Thaddeus had intended, she got soaked. Sitting up in the grass, with her vest clinging to her and her hair wet and bedraggled-looking, Winnie stared up at Thaddeus and said, “Are you happy now? I’m freezing cold and wet.”

“Come here,”
he said, dropping to his knees.
“I’ll warm you up.”

“No,
it’s
okay,” she smiled, putting on her sweater. “I’m fine.”

“I just don’t want you to catch a cold. After all
,
it was me who covered you in water,” Thaddeus said.

“Thanks, but I know how to look after myself,” she smiled.

“You don’t have to be so defensive,” Thaddeus said. “I was
n’t
trying
to get
it on with you
or anything like that.”

“I’m not being defensive,” she said. “It’s just the way I am.”

“Which is defensive,” he smiled.

“I just don’t want to get too close to anyone.” And she looked away.

Sitting down beside her in the sand, Thaddeus said, “Is being friends too close for you?”

“No
,
friendship is just fine,” she said, turning to face him again.

A length of her hair blew across her face, and Thaddeus reached out with his hand to brush it away,
then
stopped himself.

“It’s okay,” she smiled, as if giving him permission.

Slowly, Thaddeus brushed the length of hair from her eyes.

“Thank you,” she whispered
, gingerly taking his hand in hers.

Thaddeus looked down at her hand
,
which was now holding his. He then looked back at her and said, “Friends?”

“I think we both n
eed a friend,” she smiled. I
n her heart
,
she knew she had to stop being so defensive. Winnie knew that in a different time or place, she would have perhaps wanted more than just friendship from Thaddeus.  

“Being friends seems like a good place to start,
” he said, looking at her. L
ike Winnie, he knew if given a different set of circumstances
,
he would have wanted more than just friendship from her
,
too.

Sl
owly, letting his hand slide
from hers, Thaddeus
unpacked the picnic
basket. Together they ate breakfast as they sat and watched the
waves
crash against the shore.