He opened his eyes, glad for the young woman’s warmth against him, and for her soothing touch. Could he speak about it – the memories that wrenched his heart, and ripped him apart more than any other? His throat tight, his eyes stinging, he added, ‘There was a little girl. She must have been only seven or eight. She didn’t want to get into the helicopter. She was scared. I told her everything would be all right, so she climbed on board, looked at me and smiled… She was one of the two kids I pulled free of the wreckage.’
‘So you saved them.’
He let out a shaky breath. ‘Neither of them made it. Their injuries were too severe.’
His voice broke, as if it was possible for it to break even further, but he had to carry on. Now he had started, he wanted to tell her everything.
‘I lost someone else that day, someone who was very dear to me. Isa, my co-pilot.’
‘The woman in the photo on your phone.’
He nodded. ‘She was a good friend as well as a colleague. She trusted me. I let her down.’ And this time his voice broke.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Cassie said, rubbing her hand along his arm in a sweet but futile attempt to comfort him. Nothing would ever erase the pain, the guilt, the remorse.
He took a deep breath. ‘Her parents, her fiancé hate me, and with good reason. She was supposed to spend Christmas at home with them. It would have been the first in three years. She was a bit like you. She loved Christmas, and she was over the moon when her leave of absence was approved… Now she’s dead, and instead of celebrating her family are going to mourn her.’
He sighed. ‘They’ve been emailing me constantly these past few weeks – with insults and reproaches, no doubt…’
She propped herself up on one elbow to look at him. ‘What do you mean – no doubt? You haven’t read any of their messages?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m a coward, aren’t I? The thing is, they can’t tell me anything I’m not telling myself already, and they can’t hate me any more than I hate myself.’
‘Oh, Stefan!’ She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. ‘Did you have anyone to confide in – your parents, or close friends?’
He took a deep breath. ‘We’ve never talked much, my parents and I. My mother means well but she was relieved when I announced I was going away for a while. As for my dad, he’s ashamed of me and I don’t expect him to welcome me home with open arms.’
‘Ashamed? Why? You only did your best and—’
‘But I didn’t, did I?’ he cut in. ‘I failed, and my father doesn’t deal well with failure. Self-doubt and emotional breakdown never featured in his career path, and shouldn’t have featured in mine. Anyway,’ he carried on, stroking her hair, her shoulders, slowly, lightly, tentatively. Did she still want him now she knew what he’d done? ‘My army days are likely to be over, and I don’t have a clue what I’m going to do.’
Actually, that wasn’t completely true. His meeting with the SAR helicopter pilot and the Mountain Rescue Service team that afternoon had been surprisingly positive, and, even though he hadn’t been able to bring himself to climb into the helicopter, the pilot had stepped down and talked about his own experience in the Royal Navy. It seemed that he had known some gruelling times too and nevertheless managed to pull through. Perhaps there was hope for Stefan and he could still put his skills to good use.
‘Is that why you came here?’ Cassie asked. ‘To work things out?’
He looked down into her clear and clever grey eyes. ‘That was the plan.’
It sounded less pathetic than to say that he had run away to a place far enough for no one to be able to reach him at Christmas time. Of course, he hadn’t banked on getting involved with anyone… or to be rescued from his doom and gloom and his self-imposed exile by a kind and cheerful housekeeping fairy, her joker grandfather, and their welcoming friends and family.
Dread filled his heart, cold and heavy like a stone. What had he been thinking of, taking Cassie to bed, making love to her? It had been wrong of him to take advantage of her. He was a damaged man. He had failed with catastrophic consequences. He had nothing to offer her.
He pushed the thought out of his mind and forced a smile.
‘Your turn. I told you about my ghosts, now you tell me about yours.’
Immediately her face closed up. ‘It’s late, and I’m tired.’
He frowned and cupped her cheek with his hand. ‘Hey. We had a deal.’
‘You’re going to think I’m crazy, or stupid, or both, or that I drank too much that night,’ she said. ‘Everybody thinks that.’
‘Come here.’ He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulled her down and held her tightly against him. Her hair tickled his chest. Her breath on his skin aroused delicious sensations, making his body tighten and pulse once more. But now wasn’t the time.
‘Tell me what happened.’
She shuddered against him. ‘Ten years ago, my friends and I had a Christmas Eve bonfire on the banks of Wolf Tarn. We packed food and drinks, a couple of disposable barbecues and a CD player and we all piled up in a big old Land Rover that belonged to someone’s dad. We knew that Lord Ashville was spending Christmas in London and that Belthorn would be empty so we drove into the estate through a broken gate, unloaded all our stuff, and made a fire on the lakeshore. It was a cold, clear night. I remember looking up at the sky and thinking how magical it was, with the stars reflecting onto the surface of the lake, making it sparkle in the moonlight.’
‘It sounds like a good night out.’
‘It was… at first. A few of us were in a band so we sang and danced until well after midnight. Then the girls retreated into the Land Rover with their boyfriends because they were cold and… well, they wanted a bit of privacy, if you can call privacy being cooped up in a car with two other couples. I was left on my own on the shore with the dying fire, the remains of our picnic and the CD player.’ She sighed. ‘After a while, I got bored and walked along the shore.’
She tensed and her voice became a whisper. ‘That’s when I saw them.’
‘Them?’
‘There was a big man carrying a woman. She wasn’t moving. Her body looked all floppy, her head tipped backwards and her hair was so long it almost touched the ground. Another man stood back, as if he only wanted to watch from a distance, and he was, like me, a spectator. He was partly concealed behind the ruins of the abbey but I could see that he was tall and wore a kind of long robe, like a priest or a…’
Stefan frowned. ‘A monk?’ he finished, trying to tone down the incredulity in his voice. ‘You think you saw that Grey Friar your family was talking about, don’t you?’
She nodded. ‘I know what you’re thinking. That I was drunk, or deluded, or again sleepwalking, and you know something? I really wish I was any of those things, but I was sober and fully awake, and that terrifies me…’
He cursed himself for doubting and upsetting her. Kissing the top of her head, he tightened his embrace. ‘Carry on.’
She sighed. ‘The whole thing was like a nightmare, or a scene from a horror film.’