The Room Beyond (35 page)

‘Seb!’

Two pairs of frightened eyes darted towards me as I stood shivering
and crying in the doorway, hugging myself with lonely arms.

‘Seb,’ I moaned again.

Eva uncoiled herself from him, her half naked body horribly gaunt. Seb
stepped towards me but I cringed back and he halted, hurt searing through his
face.

‘Why?’ I sobbed. Their betrayal ached like a gushing wound.

He drew his fingers back through his hair, trembling as if he was
barely able to speak. ‘You didn’t want me anymore,’ he finally uttered.

‘That’s not true. Be honest, you’ve been with her all this time,
haven’t you?’

‘No,’ he shook his head. ‘Not until now.’

‘Really? Well what about before then?’

Eva leapt forwards. ‘Don’t you ever stop?’ she snarled as Seb
grabbed her arm to hold her back. ‘Always searching, probing, digging up what
isn’t yours to find. I warned you to keep away. I warned you to leave!’

‘So that you could have him.’

‘No!’ she screamed. ‘To protect
you
. To save you from this!’

Seb hung his head down low. A tear glided down the angle of his
cheek and I felt myself crumble.

‘I don’t understand,’ I whimpered.

‘Yes you do,’ she snapped back through gritted teeth. ‘Just face it.
We don’t have to tell you anything, it’s there already. You tell us. Go on! Who
is this man you are in love with? What is he?’

My arms fell limply by my sides as he raised his head up again; his
blue eyes were the colour of agony.

‘A ghost,’ I answered.

‘And who is Beth’s father?’ came her voice again. ‘Who made my
fragile little girl who should never have existed, never been born?’

He looked ready to fall apart and I ached to hold him, more than
ever before. ‘You Seb, you.’

‘And what do you have to do now?’ she demanded.

Her face suddenly came between us, poised like a bullet ready to aim.
She was barely breathing.

‘I have to leave.’

I can’t remember exactly how I got back to my old room: running,
stumbling, clutching my aching stomach up the final flight of stairs and across
the balcony to my barren bed. I’m not sure how long I lay there, torn apart by
misery, knowing that there would be no Seb to greet me that night, no eyes to
lap me up, no eager hands to rid me of my clothes.

At some point my eyelids flickered closed and I drifted into dreams:
my mother in the garden, patting down the soil, her back always turned away. And
the reflection of my young face in the bus window; a smiling ghost looking back
at me from the motorway beyond.

‘Serena,’ came a voice; the same voice that was still ringing in my
ears from earlier. ‘Serena.’

Cool slim fingers were interlocking themselves with mine. A body was
curling up against me, its white face gazing down.

‘Eva!’ I plunged upwards through my sleep, up and out into the air
again. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Sshh. Don’t be afraid. I’m... I’m not going to yell at you
anymore.’

‘Where’s Seb?’

‘Still next door. Lost and drowning in his misery.’ Her mouth looked
nearly purple in the moonlight. ‘I just heard what you did... to Sasha. Robert
told me about how he got that cross for you and then Sasha rang my mother from
the police station, fuming with rage about some meeting he’d missed with you. She
told him never to come back here again. At last! You tried to protect us from
him, didn’t you? You tried to protect me, and Beth!’

‘Yes.’

Her face trembled. All the anger and pain of our last meeting seemed
to have sapped everything from her. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much.’

I sank my head back into the pillow. ‘It’s alright. At least no one
will believe anything he says anymore. I think he got off lightly though, he
wanted me to take him to the house.’

‘Oh God!’

‘His grand plans for Beth were hideous. She’s delicate enough as it
is...’ I swallowed hard. ‘What will become of her?’

Eva’s eyes were wide and sad. ‘We honestly don’t know, only time
will tell. She isn’t a normal little girl. We never thought that such a thing
as Beth was possible, when we fell in love.’

‘Eva?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why did he come to me when he’s always been in love with you?’

She laughed deeply, toying with my fingers in her hands.

‘Because I’ve tried my best to reject him, over and over again.’

‘Why?’

‘Because,’ she paused. ‘Because I have a life! Seb is someone who’s
always inspired love. It makes it all the more tragic. Miranda, the woman who
brought him up, loved him more than anyone ever could. But it wasn’t enough to
keep him safe. I have loved that man from childhood. He’s my very first memory
and I know that he’ll be my very last.’

‘What happened to him when he came back to London from Druid Manor?’

The moonlight drained away and her face fell into the shadows. Her
fingers unthreaded themselves from mine. ‘The country wasn’t enough for a young
man like that,’ she said eventually. ‘He wanted to know where he really came
from and once he was old enough to find out for himself then no one could stop
him. Lord Hartreve sent his assistant and Miranda a faithful cook as his
guardians, who both swore to protect him and to bring him home safe and sound
when he’d seen enough. But once Tristan got his son back he was never going to
let him go again. He trapped him there, forever.’

It was so dark I couldn’t see her at all now, although I could hear
the soft sound of her breathing.

‘Why is it that I was able to see into your world, right from the
start?’ I asked.

‘We’ve never come across anyone else like you before. Raphael was
fascinated, mesmerized by you. My brother was an obsessive person... such a
sad, dark soul.’

She stopped and swallowed hard, fighting back the tears. ‘It took my
own mother years and years to find out what really existed around her. That’s
when she stopped being happy. You saw it all straightaway. You seem to have
something special... I think that only Seb can explain that to you. He truly
loves you, you know that? You have to go, but say goodbye to him first.’

I shrugged. ‘I’m leaving tomorrow. I can’t stay here any longer. But
I would like to say goodbye to Beth, properly. Do you think I can?’

‘She’ll be waiting for you in the morning... and one more thing,
before I leave.’

‘Yes?’

I felt something heavy land in my lap. My fingers fell on rough
paper.

‘Your drawings,’ she said. ‘I took them from your room when you left
for Druid Manor before me at Christmas. They’re so beautiful. I sent them to a
friend of mine in Paris, an illustrator. He wants to meet you. His address is
on that parcel.’

I felt my throat choke up. ‘Thank you,’ I stammered. ‘I... I wish
that we could have been friends.’

‘I know. We can, in a funny sort of way. Just promise that you’ll
live your life, for both of us, and I’ll always be watching from a distance. Do
you promise?’

‘I promise.’

And a gentle parting kiss brushed against my lips.

1911

‘My boy! Take me to my boy!’

The icy pavement crunched beneath her feet as she fell into Gladys
Hubbard’s arms.

‘I can’t. That’s why I summoned you to London – thank goodness you
came! He’s been gone for days now. He’s somewhere in there,’ and Gladys nodded
back at the house behind her. ‘... We just can’t see it to let ourselves in!’

The air was dense with freezing fog. The cold had crawled right
through Miranda’s fur coat during the journey and then deeper and deeper into
her flesh. And now that she was here, in the presence of that house once more,
it felt as if even her bones had turned to ice and nothing would ever make her
warm again.

Was it really still standing there after all these years? The place
she’d hoped and prayed never to see again? The brass numbers, 34, gleamed down
at her.

‘God help me.’

The world smeared into whiteness and her knees seemed to dissolve
beneath her. But before she could tumble into the ice, two firm hands clutched
at her elbows from behind. They scooped her up again, cradling her with their
loving strength.

‘Oh Walter! Wasn’t it enough for him just to live in his mother’s
house, spend his time with his cousins? Did he really have to wander into the
darkness? Why didn’t you stop him? You promised, both of you, to protect him.’

Walter had become so gaunt that his skin was now translucent; the
angular bones in his face threatening to sever right through.

‘We did as much as we could,’ he murmured. ‘We tried to keep him
away, but we are not that powerful my darling. He saw the house right from the
start and fate seemed to draw him inside.’

‘Then I will draw him back out again. I’ll drag him out of that
repugnant hell-hole if I have to! Just follow me.’

The icy pathway shattered like glass as she scrambled to the door
and hurled it open. The grey cloud within reared up at the sight of her but she
waded on into it, squinting through the haze with stinging eyes at something
lying on the floor ahead: the body of a young man.

‘Oh my boy!’

Walter rushed ahead, collapsing to his knees. He brushed the frost
from the man’s lips and pressed his ear against them.

‘It’s no good. He’s gone.’

‘My darling son, my baby. He’s taken you away from us. Tristan’s got
you now, hasn’t he?’

A shadow passed between them, slipping over the banisters and up
into the house beyond.

‘Oh, is he gone? What have I done? Is our Seb really dead? Is he?’
yelped Gladys, staggering towards them with her hand clutching at her chest.

‘Yes he is,’ whispered Miranda. ‘It’s not your fault. It was his
fate, just like Walter said.’

She cradled his head up onto her lap. His skin was as smooth and
faultless as it had ever been. His eyes, which were still open, were as blue as
the sky on a bright spring day. Even in death he was beautiful.

‘Oh my chest, I can’t breathe!’ Gladys gasped. She crumbled down,
wheezing and spluttering onto the cold floor.

‘Oh, help her!’ Miranda yelled.

Walter snatched a small bottle from around his neck and tried to
force it into the struggling woman’s mouth, but with one final wheeze her body
suddenly slumped down in stillness, her eyes gazing unblinkingly up at them.

‘No!’

The walls echoed her shrill cry straight back at her.

‘There’s nothing left for you now Miranda White,’ they whispered.

‘Nothing left. I have nothing left.’

‘Yes you do.’

A pair of arms gathered her closely in, pressing her ear against a
chest filled with a warm and beating heart. Walter.

‘You still have me,’ he said.

SERENA’S STORY

‘I want to give you something.’

‘What is it? Oh, your peony brooch!’

Beth’s eyes glinted up at me.

‘There you go. It looks just lovely on you.’

She patted it contentedly against her chest but then suddenly
wrinkled up her forehead.

‘That means you’re leaving, doesn’t it? That’s why you’ve brought me
to the park, to our favourite place.’

I huddled up next to her on the blanket. Above us the great tree
wove a mesh against the sky with its branches. No leaves yet, just the merest
buds like emeralds glinting down at us.

‘Yes. I’m so sorry.’

Her chin wobbled slightly. ‘Is it because I’m different from other
children?’

‘Oh God no. No! Beth you’re wonderful, don’t ever change. It’s
nothing to do with you at all.’

She nuzzled her cheek against my arm and I squeezed her close,
blinking back the tears.

‘Will I see you again?’

‘Of course darling. I’ll write to you and you can visit me when you
get older.’

‘But you won’t come back to the house?’

‘No.’

‘I’ll miss you.’

‘Me too. Come on let me take you home.’

We grasped hands and pulled each other up.

‘You’re freezing!’ I cried. ‘Where are your gloves?’

‘I don’t like gloves.’

‘Then I’ll have to warm you up.’

And I rubbed her hands between my palms as we made patterns along
the dewy grass, back towards Marguerite Avenue for the last time.

Gladys was vehemently polishing in the hallway when we got in and the
mournful notes of Robert at the piano stroked the air from the room next door.

‘Look at my brooch,’ said Beth to Gladys. ‘Is there anything to eat?
I’m hungry.’

‘You’ll find fresh bread in the kitchen.’

My heart turned a somersault as she scuttled away. I was back at the
beginning again: standing here with the smell of wood polish and baking in my
nostrils, the sound of the piano drifting by.

‘I’m leaving,’ I said.

‘Yes I realized that,’ Gladys replied; her voice already seemed far
away. ‘I’m surprised you stayed so long.’

‘You’ll take care of Beth, won’t you?’

‘I’ll love her as my own. Just like I’ve always done. Good luck
dear,’ she squeezed my arm. ‘You’re right to leave. Go and live your life to
the full, you’re wasting it here...’

She looked away, brushing her wrist across her eyes.

‘Thank you for everything. I think I’m very lucky to have known
you.’

But she was already hurrying off, half way back to the kitchen, her
apron tied firmly in a knot in the middle of her back.

‘Edward and Arabella are in the drawing room if you want to see
them,’ she called behind her.

The drawing room door was half open. I cleared my throat to speak; a
few well-rehearsed words ready on my tongue. But when I peeped in at Edward and
Arabella sitting there, gazing silently across each other’s heads like two
empty husks, I backed quietly away.

My hand slid smoothly up the wooden banister for the last time. Up
in the cornice Lucinda’s moulded face watched me leave. The sound of Robert’s
playing fell behind me and I nodded a farewell to the painting of Walter
Balanchine as I passed by.

Up in my room the parcel with all my drawings in it lay sitting on
my bed. I tore off the French address, put it in my pocket and wrote
For Eva
in its place.

Just as I was turning to leave there was a small click behind me,
followed by the familiar sound of the balcony door swinging open. I smiled to
myself as if I was already looking back at a vision in my memory.

Seb barely moved. His hair was a mess. He wore tatty jeans and an
old crumpled shirt hugged his slim body. But the graceful angles of his face,
his blue eyes and those lips were as delicious and beautiful as ever.

‘You’ve got his eyes you know,’ I said quietly. ‘Tristan’s. Just
like in that painting of him. But your face is much kinder than his.’

‘I am nothing like that man,’ Seb replied.

‘And yet you’re trapped with him now, aren’t you? Because you
couldn’t keep away.’

‘I was so young; his loneliness appalled me, terrified me! And he
dug his claws further and further in until it became impossible for me to leave.
I stopped eating, stopped breathing...’

‘You lied to me about Eva.’

‘I lied to you about everything, I had to!’ he came towards me
cringing, hands outstretched, shoulders slumped; pain scarring every gesture. ‘What
else was I supposed to do? Scare you away with the truth when you’d only just
walked into our lives?’

‘Oh God, I loved you so much!’

I fell towards him and he drew me close, burying his face in my hair.
And with his touch the bright colours of a forgotten memory suddenly burst
forward through the darkness.

At last she turned to face me: my mother with her grubby old T-shirt
sticking to her sides. Her cheeks were full of sunshine and her eyes sparkled
as she dropped the pink bloom into my hand. A peony.

‘I have to ask you something,’ I said.

‘What?’

‘Why is it that I can see you, and Gladys, and now the house? What’s
so special about me?’

His fingers reached down to my waist, slid up beneath my top and
traced the scar I’d carried with me for so long.

‘You were there in the bus with them that day, weren’t you? When
your parents died? That’s how you got this scar, from all that glass smashing
about you when the bus veered into the shop window.’

As the words came out of his mouth the scar burned hot beneath his
hand.

‘How did you know? I’ve never told anyone,’ I groaned.

‘No. And I doubt whether you’ve ever truly faced it yourself. But
there had to be some reason why you were so scared of broken glass.’

The memories surged back in. Unstoppable now. Unshrinkable. My own
private fortress crashing down around me.

‘A great shard of it went in,’ I tried to swallow back the tears. ‘Freezing
cold and boiling hot at the same time. I fought my way out of the wreck alone,
with the glass still inside me. It took hours for them to stitch me up in the
hospital. I lost so much blood...’

‘And whilst you were lying there you stared right into the face of
death, didn’t you? After that the world changed forever. You stumbled on
through life like a lonely ghost, seeing everything around you for what it was.
All that had ever been beautiful was gone.’

‘Until I came here,’ I sobbed. ‘Until I found you!’

‘But it’s too late for me. Leave this place, please, before I try to
stop you. Don’t throw away a second chance.’

He lifted up my chin and our mouths touched with a kiss that gently
melted into nothing. When I opened my eyes, he’d gone.

We have all lived with ghosts at some point in our lives. They’ve
embraced us passionately in the darkest hours, made us laugh and cry when we
are lonely and at our most vulnerable. But there also comes a time when we have
to shut the doors of our past behind us and venture back into the world with
new skin. And although I lost a part of myself forever when I walked away from
Marguerite Avenue, it also felt as if my heart was finally beginning to beat
with fresh blood again. Second chances really do exist. It was time for me to
live.

The End