Once Upon A Winter (29 page)

‘You’re going to say they’re fake, aren’t you?’ said Calista, as Nell flipped through the album for a full ten minutes, poring over every picture, lingering over one of the bride stretching up to kiss the groom. ‘But why would I go to all that trouble, Nell, only to hide it away? And I think, in your heart of hearts, you’ve always known there’s more to Silas than meets the eye . . . Just as you’ve always sensed something special about Joshua . . .’

Nell said nothing. Words had failed her since she’d recovered enoug
h equanimity - and curiosity - to scoop the album up off the floor, where it had been lying between her and Calista, neither of them moving, as if they had been turned to stone.

‘He’s not a bigamist,’ continued Calista. ‘And he doesn’t drift around preying on vulnerable wome
n for his own sadistic ends. There’s a reason Silas selects who he does. He’s drawn to them, the same way he’s drawn to other causes and other desperate souls. He’s intrigued by their nature, and what they’re hiding. In my sister’s case, he knew the cancer was still lurking, even though she was officially in remission. But in those last years of her life, he made her feel cherished and happy. For that alone, I’ll always be in his debt.’

Nell found her voice at last. A raspy whisper struggling to climb out of her throat. ‘So I was a “cause”, was I?’

Calista pressed her hands together, bringing the index fingers up to her lips, as if in prayer. ‘Oh, Nell . . .’

‘And I’m going to meet some horrible fate any day now, is that right?’ Nell choked the words out, past the blockage of gathering tears. ‘His wives all seem destined to die tragically young.’

‘Cariad’ - Calista bobbed down in front of her - ‘I could feel something closing in on my sister. On poor Lydia. But how could I tell her that? But with you . . . I feel nothing but life, stretching ahead as far as I can see. I don’t feel the mark of fate on you, Nell. I hope you can believe me.’

‘So then . . . why did Silas choose me? If he knew I wasn’t going to die any time soon, why did he marry
me
? He was never planning on sticking around, was he? I could always sense that - deep down. I was borrowing him, like a library book.’

‘Maybe he didn’t understand why he was drawn to you, beyond the obvious fact that you were lonely. Possibly it only became clear when you fell pregnant. That was your particular destiny.’

‘Like some mare to his studhorse?’ Nell felt bruised inside, as if she’d taken a severe battering.

‘Not quite like that. Your pregnancy wasn’t intentional. Silas confided that much.’

‘And what else has he confided, Calista?’ Nell’s bitterness was beginning to gather momentum.

‘Nell, I know you’re bursting with questions, but I’m not the only person who can answer them. And I can’t even answer
all
of them. You’re going to have to speak to Silas.’

Vehemently, Nell shook her head. ‘No . . . No, I can’t. I don’t know how to face him. How to even begin.’

‘Begin with telling him that you
believe
what he told you.’ Calista folded Nell’s hands within her own. ‘It’s the first step. But I’m not saying it’s going to be an easy journey. He’s . . . complex. I suppose a person who’s seen and done as much as he has, can’t be expected to be anything less. But this man you see now, that’s as close to the real him as you’re going to get. No illusions.’

‘Silas said - at Christmas - the nigh
t he came back, that he was the “outward manifestation” of my fantasy. I haven’t forgotten. Those were his exact words. And when I first met him, he
was
the kind of man I used to dream of back then. Smart, successful, a gentleman who could sweep me off my feet.’

‘It must be exhausting for him, to be something he isn’t, just to please another person. I’m not saying he isn’t smart, or a gentleman - he’s a highly intelligent being, with fine manners and a strong, honourable core that I’m not sure he even realises is there. But he’s not the cool, suave, entrepreneurial businessman he pretended to be, just for you. He simply became the sort of hero you liked to read about and dream of.’

‘So this mess is all my fault? I wore him out trying to make him something he wasn’t?’

‘Nell,’ said Calista softly, ‘all those decades spent being strong, he doesn’t know what it is to be weak.’

‘And what does that mean?’

‘That right now, without a façade to hide behind, it’s the most vulnerable that Silas has ever been
as an adult. You need to be aware of this, and tread carefully. Maybe all those guises have been shields for him. I know how that feels.’

Nell groaned and dropped her head into her hands.
‘This is lunacy. I feel as if I’m just reading about this, or watching it on TV. This can’t really be happening . . .’

Calista didn’t reply at first. She unfolded her long limbs and clambered upright again. ‘I’ll go get you a drink, Nell. I know it’s early in the day still, but some
ron miel
should see you right.’

‘What?’ Nell squinted up at her.

‘Honey rum, from the Canary Islands. Delicious stuff. I have a weakness for it. Purely medicinal. I love to use it in cooking, too.’

This was utterly bizarre. Like waking up from one dream only to find yourself in another. Nell blinked down at the wedding album, and couldn’t help thinking of her own Big Day, and the tiny registry office where her family had crammed in, oozing disapproval even as they tried their best to conceal it. A quiet, simple ceremony was all she had wanted. While other women dreamed of the full works, the thought of being the focus of attention among scores of guests had terrified Nell.

But in retrospect it had all been a sham, anyway. And possibly not even legal, considering Silas’s surname wasn’t really Jones, or Allen, but probably Gwynne, unless he’d changed it by Deed Poll. If his father really
had
been Aled Gwynne, former gamekeeper up at Bryn Heulog . . .

Nell’s head was still a confused tangle. How could Silas have the proper documentation to be part of the system, without showing proof of his age? All his papers had to be forged, surely. Those other poor women he had been
‘married’ to had died in blissful ignorance of the truth, by the sound of it.

Calista returned, and handed Nell a cut-glass tumbler. ‘Here, cariad. Drink up.’

Nell coughed and spluttered her way resolutely through the honey rum.

There was a lot to be said for ignorance, she realised, as she brushed away the first
trickle of tears and prayed it wouldn’t turn into a tidal wave.

And a lot to be said for living in a bubble which couldn’t be pierced by either logic or emotion.

But Nell didn’t live in a bubble. And logic and emotion assailed her as she pored over the sweet-tasting
ron miel
and wiped the tears from her cheeks with a hanky Calista passed her.

Did Silas need a divorce from her - bona fide or not - so that he could move on to his next ‘mission’? And could that mission involve Lauren Guthrie?

The prospect alone made Nell feel sicker than at any point that day, even when she had feared for her life. But after seeing them together the other night at Bryn Heulog, it was more than a possibility, and she had to face it even as she had to face the rising tide of her jealousy.

Silas was gravitating towards Lauren for a reason that had less to do with Lauren’s looks than what was going on inside. Perhaps beyond the golden exterior was a lonely soul in need of rescuing, a woman in need of a hero. Nell could rage against it as much as she liked, but it would have been easier, she had to acknowledge ironically, if Silas had only wanted Lauren for her body.

‘What are you thinking, cariad?’ asked Calista, watching her closely.

‘I’m thinking I should get home.’ Nell handed Calista her empty glass and wiped away the last of her tears - for now. Her mouth was set in a grim line as she passed the older woman the wedding album and rose shakily to her feet. ‘I have a dozen chores to plough through, and I’ve lost almost half a day already.’

Calista frowned as she followed Nell out. ‘You can’t go on with life as if nothing’s changed,’ she said, opening one of the double oak doors that led to the front steps.

‘I’ve got two young children and an elderly grandmother to look after,’ said Nell flatly. ‘I can’t go on with life as if everything
has
changed. I haven’t got the luxury of wallowing, or escaping into a dream-world like you, even if that world is real.’ Nell added, as if it was an afterthought, ‘If you see Silas before I do, tell him I’ll be in touch.’

She zipped up her coat against the icy breeze that had sprung up, swirling like a homesick ghost from Siberia around the expanse of driveway.

As she stalked away, determined she wouldn’t allow her thoughts to stray any more beyond the humdrum aspects of her little sphere, she realised she had left the crumpets for her grandmother’s tea behind.

Nana Gwen would have to make do with the
custard creams in the biscuit barrel.

Nell had to get away from here. She wasn’t going back to that sad, creaky old house behind her, only to break down spectacularly and reveal to Calista how she really felt.

From
an upstairs window of the cottage in the woods, Silas stared broodingly over the trees towards the rooftop of Bryn Heulog. Since Nell had fled from him in the churchyard, terrified and distraught, every urge had been centred on finding her and assuaging her paranoia; proving to her that what he’d said was the truth. That he wasn’t mad - however strange and unwarranted the thoughts running through his head were of late.

Silas had fought the impulse to pursue her, though, for the simple reason that her fear would only be exacerbated. Nell needed time to calm down. How much time was anyone’s guess, but Silas was well aware that he had installed an incredible concept in her mind, and it was up to her to disentangle all the strands and decide whether she could believe it or not.

Yet it was hard to be patient. Normally, it was a virtue of his, but in this case, for reasons he was still struggling to come to grips with, he was finding it almost impossible now to stay away from her.

This was the first time he had ever had to bare himself so completely to someone who had little sense of his
extra
-ordinariness. Not in a boastful way, he was never that. But he was not normal, and Nell would eventually have to accept that. It impacted on their son too much to ignore. 

When his sense of secrecy was so deeply ingrained, it had gone against Silas’s nature to peel back all those layers and show a sceptic such as Nell what he truly was. Without Calista’s guidance, Silas doubted he could have managed it.

His phone buzzed and vibrated in his pocket. Silas scrabbled for it anxiously. It was only a text, though.

‘
if the snow they r forecasting doesn’t strand me in chester do you want to go for another drink at weekend? sorry if I bored you last time i promise i won’t again. Lauren x
’

Silas hesitated, then texted back.

‘
Call me if you’re around. S
’

Lauren Guthrie was not the sort of woman to be seduced by flowery prose. Not that
seduction was his intention.

Silas was a
bout to slip the phone back in his pocket, when it buzzed again. This time it was a call. He fumbled to answer it. The instant he did, Calista burst out breathlessly, ‘Nell came here, Silas. She wanted to see photographs of Lydia’s husband . . .’

His heart seemed to thud to a standstill.

‘I think she believes now,’ said Calista. ‘Although she doesn’t want to. I think every compulsion she has is
not
to.’

‘I see.’ Silas stared over the trees towards Bryn
Heulog.

‘She isn’t taking it well, resisting what it means with regards to the future. Acting as if it doesn’t change anything . . .’

‘We need to give her time, surely. The hard part’s over.’

‘In spite of all the wonderful things you are, Silas, you can be such a caveman, too, at times, can’t you?’

He frowned at her sudden severity. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The hard part’s just begun, of course! She knows now that you never married her in the first place for all the usual, conventional reasons, such as love and companionship. You married her out of pity, however noble a crusade you made it seem in your head. That would be a feat for any woman to stomach, let alone someone as insecure as Nell.’

Silas closed his eyes, steadying himself against the windowsill. ‘I can’t change the past, Calista . . .’

‘I’m not asking you to
.’ She sighed, exasperated. ‘But you’re not so Neanderthal that you can’t do something about the present.’

*

The phone was ringing on the hall table. Joshua stared at it curiously, then glanced around. It was early morning, and he was already up and dressed for school, even though Mum and Freya still hadn’t come down themselves. Mum might actually be in the shower, from the sound of the groaning pipes.

Joshua had been told not to answer the phone on his own. Just to let the answer
ing machine pick up eventually. Not that he thought this fair. He had a voice, didn’t he? So why couldn’t he be allowed to use it?

The machine clicked and the ringing stopped. There was a pause, and then Grandpa’s voice crackled across the hall.

‘Hello? . . . Anyone there . . . Am I too early . . .?’

It was one thing talking on the phone to strangers, thought Joshua. No one would mind him speaking to his granddad, surely.

He picked it up, and the answering machine turned off. ‘Hi, Grandpa.’ 

‘Josh! Hi, boyo. How are you?’

‘OK. Mum’s in the shower, I think, and I don’t know what Freya’s doing.’

‘Look, don’t worry. I can call again another time and speak to your mum. I know it’s quite hectic for her when she’s getting you off to school. I thought it would be nice to hear your voice and Freya’s, that’s all. We’re actually somewhere quite civilised, for once, which is why I called. I’ve got internet and everything. You’ll never guess where, though.’

‘Won’t I?’

‘
Oz
,’ said his granddad. ‘Sydney, in fact.’

‘Oh . . . Is that anywhere near the Emerald City?’ gasped Joshua. ‘Have you met the Wizard yet? He’s actually an ordinary man, like you. Not a real wizard like Harry Potter.’

Grandpa was laughing. ‘I miss you, Josh.’

‘I miss you, too. When are you coming home?’

‘Early April still, as planned. How’s school going, by the way?’

‘Great. I’m doing loads of extra algebra with Dan. Mr Guthrie, I mean. And we’re learning about the universe.
D’you know, I got a telescope for Xmas, and Dad says he’ll show me the stars one night, when it’s clear. He knows all their names.’

‘
Dan’s
going to point out the stars?’

‘No,’ Joshua tried to speak more clearly, ‘Dad. He came back on Christmas Day. We went out with him the other day, to a pub by a canal. He says he’ll buy a boat one day - a sailing boat, not a
narrowboat - and he and I can go sailing on the ocean.’

His granddad was very quiet all of a sudden. Perhaps the call had been disconnected.

‘Hello?’ said Joshua. ‘Are you still there, Grandpa?’

‘Er . . . Yes. Josh - are you telling me your
father
is back?’

‘Yes. That’s what I said. Anyway, is it OK if I go now? My tummy’s rumbling and I haven’t had breakfast. I feel like Weetabix today. Bye, Grandpa.’

Joshua hung up, and half-ran, half-skipped, into the kitchen.