“Mu-um!” Nina called.
A moment later, a cross-looking Leonora appeared in the hall. “What, darling? There’s no need to bellow for me. You should come and find me.”
“Jonas’s mum is inviting us to a party at his place on Christmas Eve,” Nina said.
From the phone by my ear, I heard Jonas groan.
Leonora fixed me with a stern look. “Tell him it’s kind of him, but no, Beth. Anyway, we do our own thing here on Christmas Eve.” She took stock of my disappointed face, and her tone softened slightly. “It’s nice of Stephanie to invite us, but we just can’t make it. Do thank them, all the same.”
I waited for her to return to the drawing room, and then I said to Jonas, “Did you get that?”
“Bloody Averells,” he said.
I glanced up to where Nina still hovered, watching me.
“Funny you should say that,” I said sweetly. “I was thinking the same thing.”
When I hung up, Nina hurried down to the hall and caught both my hands in hers. “I’m sorry. That was mean of me. I’m really sorry, Beth. If you want to go—or maybe we could both sneak out and go . . .”
But it was hardly the sort of party I wanted to go to anyway—a boring adult affair in the middle of the day at the village B and B. I wanted loud music and dim lights and sweet cider and Jonas’s arms around me.
“It doesn’t matter.” I gave her a weary look. “Honestly. I’m sure we’ll have a nice time here.”
Nina was very childish, sometimes. I pitied her. But underneath that, I felt a sort of protectiveness toward her. She’d grown up in this strange, isolated bubble at Raven Hall, and she didn’t know any different—it wasn’t her fault. Perhaps, when I eventually left, I’d persuade her to come with me.
* * *
* * *
On Christmas Eve, the family had a tradition of exchanging one small present after dinner to kick-start the festive celebrations. I’d bought my offerings on our shopping trip with Leonora in November, and I’d wrapped them carefully: rose-scented hand cream for Leonora, a bag of his favorite toffees for Markus, and a notebook with daisies on the cover for Nina. I was looking forward to seeing them opened.
Nina gave out her presents first, and then I gave out mine. We all cooed over our gifts and held them up for one another to admire. Then Leonora looked at Markus.
“Dad did the Christmas Eve shopping this year,” Leonora said, raising her eyebrows in mock alarm.
“Uh-oh,” Nina said, and both she and I giggled.
“Just you wait,” Markus said, and with a flourish, he produced two identically wrapped boxes. He switched them between his hands with a show of consternation. “Which one’s which? How to tell?” He held one out to each of us. “Luckily, they’re both the same.”
We tore into the paper, eyeing each other’s as much as our own and laughing in our competition to see which of us could reveal the contents first.
“Oh,” I said.
“Wow,” Nina said.
We both tilted our boxes toward Leonora to show her. Inside each was a delicate gold charm bracelet twinkling with reflections from the dining room lights.
We lifted them out and helped each other to fasten them around our wrists.
“They’re beautiful,” I said.
“Thanks, Dad.” Nina ran around the table to give Markus a hug.
“The charms represent the wildlife around the lake.” Markus’s voice was gruff with a sudden shyness. “There’s a flag iris, a greylag goose, a reed warbler . . .” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I’m glad you like them. And for my beloved wife—” He produced a third box, which turned out to hold a beautiful necklace, the same shade of gold as our bracelets.
“These aren’t small presents,” Leonora said quietly.
Markus looked uncomfortable. “I know, but”—he turned to Nina and me—“I thought they’ll always remind you of Raven Hall, when you’re grown up. And you know, maybe you’ll want to pass them on to your own daughters, for their sixteenth birthdays, say. I just thought it was a nice idea . . .”
He turned back to Leonora and helped her fasten the necklace under her hair. She didn’t look as happy with her gift as I thought she ought to, but that was Leonora for you. She wasn’t like normal people. I knew that by now.
She’s in love.
This is nothing like the childish feelings she had for the young doctor. What she feels for Markus is real love. Proper, soul-mate, meeting-of-minds, forever-and-ever love.
It took her a while to hitch a lift to anywhere even vaguely close to Raven Hall today. She’s now taking the field route around the village rather than risking being recognized walking down the high street. Not that she doesn’t have every right to be here—it’s a free country, isn’t it? But she can’t bear the thought of questions—or worse, pity—from the people she used to feel mildly sorry for because they all live so clustered together in the village instead of somewhere proud and magnificent like Raven Hall.
But she doesn’t mind taking the long route; she’s content to be alone with her thoughts. The sun is high, and her T-shirt sticks to her skin, but she smiles to herself as she strolls along. She’s thinking of Markus.
On their third meeting by the lake, she told him an edited version of her life story—that her father had died last year; that she now lodges with a distant relative of her mother’s, who barely speaks to her from one week to the next.
“I feel like my whole life was stolen from me,” she blurted out, in an unguarded moment as they watched a hobby catching dragonflies above the lake. “Mum, then Dad, then my home . . .” She bit the rest of the sentence back; this was dangerous territory. What would Markus do if he discovered she was the “poor girl” who’d been turfed out of Raven Hall when his girlfriend’s parents bought the place? Would his sympathy be replaced by awkwardness? Would he feel obliged to tell his girlfriend’s parents he’d found this strange, traumatized young woman roaming around their property? And what would they do then? Prosecute her for trespassing? Or worse—offer her pity and fake condolences?
Markus tried to comfort her. “I expect things will look brighter next year. If you do apply to art college . . .”
But he inadvertently touched on her greatest fear, and a tear slid down her cheek.
“What if things never look brighter, though? What if I can’t ever move on? I’m just so angry at the man who did this to us.”
Markus looked surprised. “Who?”