The Secrets of Water

by Wendy Nelson-Sinclair

  “How dare you!” Addie seethed through clenched teeth as she stepped towards Mr. Brown who, to his credit, remained unintimidated and ignored everything she said. Both Addie and Mrs. Sargent watched his back as he climbed up the stairs with Edith in tow.

  “What a fine little actress you are, you little minx! How dare you act like that, in front of her, you conniving, manipulative little bitch!” Mrs. Sargent grasped her chance to confront Addie as she ripped the telegram from Addie’s grasp and pointed a short, plump finger in her face. “Don’t think for a second that anyone buys your crocodile tears!” Mrs. Sargent hissed after years of holding her tongue. “The only thing that you’re grieving is the loss of your cash cow, you, parasite! Why don’t you do us a favor and just leave! The last thing Edith needs right now is to hear your false wailing and desperate cries for attention.” Mrs. Sargent eyed Addie closely, finally allowing herself to say the things she’d long kept to herself.

  “Of course!” Addie bit back. “Fawn over Edith. Poor, sensitive, weak Edith. But what about me?” Addie screamed and pointed a sharp finger into her own chest. “What about me? I loved Edward far more than that idiot ever could! I loved him and he loved me and now, he’s dead! And she killed him! She killed him! She couldn’t just be happy with her money and her books and this… this house! She had to have it all and now, Edward’s dead because of it.” Addie threw the telegram at Mrs. Sargent’s face before bounding up the stairs, her howls reminiscent of wolves under the full moon.

  Stunned by Addie’s reaction, Mrs. Sargent stood unmoving in the center of the hall, staring after the empty staircase long after Addie’s pale head had disappeared. Inside, Hannah’s soul ached for Edith and held nothing but contempt for the leech. Another grief-stricken cry carried down the stairs and met her where she stood. A scream that that drowned out Addie’s pitiful cries for attention. A screamed that rang the death knell for all Edith’s plans and dreams.

  ************

  “And she’s been like this since my telegram came?” Elspeth sat beside Edith’s bed as Mrs. Sargent flanked the opposite side.

  “I can barely get her to eat or drink. It’s like she’s given up on life.” Mrs. Sargent struggled to keep herself together. “I fear that this will kill her… and the babe,” she added, trying in vain to sniff back the tear that rolled down her cheek.

  “We’re going to do everything we can to see that doesn’t happen.” Elspeth gently reassured the older woman before Mrs. Sargent ducked out of the room, stating that she needed to get dinner started.

  Waiting until they were alone, Elspeth drew the chair flush with Edith’s bedside. Patiently, she watched her friend drown herself in the black abyss of dreamless sleep.

  “Sleep won’t make it go away,” Elspeth said tenderly. Reaching out, she brushed Edith’s hair back from her brow and tucked it behind her ear. “And ignoring it doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen. We have to be brave and face reality, sweetheart. Edward’s gone, my girl. And just because we’ve lost him doesn’t mean that we have to lose you too,” Elspeth’s voice cracked as she recalled the horrible moment when her friend and Edith’s lover, died suddenly and unexpectedly.

  Elspeth, Jonathan, and Edward were walking back to their hotel after a modest lunch at Elspeth’s favorite restaurant. Edward walked just ahead of Elspeth and Jonathan, eager to get back to the hotel so that he could send word to Edith that he’d return home on the morning train.

  “Edward, would you slow down!” Elspeth laughed, amused by his eagerness to get back. “If you keep rushing, you’re going to knock into someone and hurt yourself.” She motioned towards the painter standing on the ladder no more than ten feet ahead of them.

  What happened next played out in horrific slow-motion. Edward, amused by Elspeth’s teasing warning, spun on his heel with a smile. Walking backwards, he playfully argued back, stating that he was the epitome of caution when a sudden shouted warning killed the words resting upon his tongue.

  “Edward!” Jonathan pushed Elspeth forward as he rushed towards their friend. Elspeth, stunned by her husbands unexpected shove, watched helplessly as a paint can fell from the sky, crashing violently down upon Edward’s head. A scream tore from her throat as she watched it strike the crown of Edward’s head with a sickening crunch and then again as Edward crumpled to the ground. Jonathan, too late to push his friend out of the way, dropped to his knees and furiously begged Edward to open his eyes. The painter flew down from his ladder and immediately shouted that the can wasn’t his.

  “I don’t know where that one came from! That one’s yellow and mine is blue! Mine is still on the ladder!” The rainbow speckled man was near hysterical as he struggled to convince the bystanders that had gathered to gawk at the gruesome scene. “I swear I have no idea where that other one came from!” Suddenly realizing the terrible truth, the painter began to sob. A scream tore from Elspeth’s throat as Jonathan looked away from Edward and slowly lifted his eyes to meet hers.

  “Oh, no!” She remembered screaming again. “No, Jonathan! No!” Elspeth rushed forward but Jonathan quickly was on his feet and held her back, forcing her to look away from the gruesome scene.

  “He’s gone, Ellie,” Jonathan pulled her to him and held her closely, trying to shield her eyes from Edward, who lie prone on the cold ground. Elspeth shivered as she pictured Edwards’ head and how it was cracked open like a hard-boiled egg. Nor could she dismiss seeing his brain exposed through the wound, or as his blood seeping out, slowly staining the sidewalk.

  The image of Edward lying lifeless on the gray pavement was one that would haunt her for the remainder of her life. A shiver traveled down Elspeth’s spine as she forced the image from her mind.

  Turning her focus back to Edith, Elspeth went quiet, no longer sure that she could encourage her friend back to life. Edward had been gone less than a week and Edith needed time to grieve. Seven mere days wasn’t going to put the pieces of Edith’s broken heart back together. She doubted if a lifetime would either. Edith has a child to live for. Edward’s child and Elspeth was determined to see both the child and her dear friend through this. As she sat watching over Edith’s sleeping form, Elspeth promised to remain at Edith’s side until Edith herself sent her away.

  A week later, the sudden death of her father-in-law abruptly forced Elspeth and Jonathan to leave Blackwell Farm, forcing a reluctant Elspeth to break her promise. As they drove away, Elspeth looked back at the looming Lake District estate with a sad, empty feeling that she’d never see the house, or Edith, again.

  ************

  “Miss Edith,” Mrs. Sargent spoke through the locked door, holding breakfast on a tray. “Miss Edith, you need to eat something. You need to keep your strength up. For the babe,” she urged.

  No sound answered her. Within her writing room, Edith sat in her rocking chair, unmoving and staring at Edward’s painting. Her eyes fixed upon herself, recalling the splendid moment when he’d given it to her, and she’d offered him a gift of her own in return. Her hand rose from the arm rest and slowly settled upon her burgeoning abdomen. A flicker of movement surprised her, pushing a gasp through her lips. The movement came again. A kick. Her baby had kicked. The kick irrefutable proof that unlike its father, her baby was still very much alive. A sign that despite the tragedy that occurred, life went on. For the first time in hours, Edith blinked, harshly snapping back into reality.

  “Miss Edith, please,” Hannah pleaded and finally, Edith heard her. “You need to eat. The baby needs nourishment. Edward wouldn’t want to see you like this—"

  “Leave it on the desk,” Edith interjected abruptly, shocking her lifelong confidante. Hannah Sargent blew out a breath and then, after a long pause, cleared her throat. The abrupt sound of china rattling slightly brought Edith out of her seat.

  For weeks she’d sat either in her bedroom or in this room, curtains drawn, barely eating or drinking, lost and alone in a bleak world. The flicker of life that fluttered across her stomach brought her o
ut of her semi-catatonic state with a heavy reminder. Life grew within her. Life that she and Edward had created. A tiny little being that was half Edith and half Edward. A constant reminder that even though death separated them, a piece of Edward would always remain.

  As Hannah Sargent walked away reassured and unburdened of her biggest stressor, Edith moved to her writing desk. Sitting down, she slowly ate the toast, eggs, roasted mushrooms, and sliced tomatoes that Mrs. Sargent had lovingly and thoughtfully prepared.

  “I’m only eating for you, my darling,” Edith whispered to her child as she nibbled on a piece of toast slathered with fresh blackberry jam. “I promise to protect you. For you, and for Daddy,” she added as her free hand settled upon her abdomen once more.

  As Edith devoured the rest of her meal, she reflected upon her self-imprisonment. Just like her life before she met Edward, her melancholy had taken over, forcing her into a solitude where no one, except her child, could reach her. Edith sighed deeply as she rested against the back of the chair. A sudden shouting echoed in through the open doorway. Edith cringed as she recognized Addie’s constant, shrieking demands and incessant wailing about being forced from her home. She resisted the urge to close the door, choosing to pick up her pen instead. The urge to create suddenly became irresistible and before she knew it, Edith was writing.

  The story that poured from her quickly transformed into a love story, a dedication to her love for Edward. For hours she scribbled across page after page, tuning out everything around her, including when Mrs. Sargent came to exchange her long-cold breakfast tray with a pot of fresh chamomile tea. Edith wrote as much as she could over the next few days until her life, and her story, took dramatic turns.

  ELEVEN

  Sebastian and Lizzie remained in the car, parked in front of Hazel’s dark house, the product of the storm knocking the power out across the country. A crackle of lightning flashed across the sky and was promptly chased by a rumbling thunderclap.

  “Sebastian,” Lizzie panted after an extended moment of silence, her startling blue eyes wide with a mixture of elation and disbelief. “Why did you do that?” she asked as she savored the memory of his body next to hers.

  “Because I didn’t want Andy to know that we’d broken into the estate. Now that he thinks that we were just trying to find some privacy, he won’t suspect anything.”

  “No,” Lizzie said, seeing past his attempt at deflection. Sebastian was running away from the truth, but why? In his eyes, she saw the hurt and the pain that he’d suffer from being rejected. For the first time since she’d known him, she realized how desperately he’d fought to keep his feelings hidden. “Sebastian, you just said that you loved me,” she said, forcing him to face what he desperately tried to hide.

  “Lizzie, that was just…” he tried to lie, to convince himself it was just to fool Andy, but ultimately, couldn’t go through with it.

  “No,” Lizzie shook her head. “You meant it,” she said adamantly, knowing him better than he knew himself. “You have never said that lightly. The only person that I’ve ever heard you tell that you loved them was Grandmother and Hazel. Not Sheila. Not any of your other girlfriends. Hell, not even your father. Just Grandmother, your Nana, and now, me.” She stared at him as everything she’d ever wanted was finally falling into place.

  “Lizzie, I…” Sebastian attempted to speak. “Lizzie…” His voice trailed off as he traced the ridge of her cheekbone with his finger. “My beautiful, darling Lizzie,” Sebastian swallowed. “There is something that I have to tell you,” he began, suddenly finding his voice and determined to say everything she needed to hear. “The night of that horrible party, when I—” he paused abruptly while he waited for her reaction. Seeing nothing of concern, he continued. “When I embarrassed and humiliated you—a night I will punish myself for until the end of time—I said those things because I was drunk.”

  “I know, Sebastian,” Lizzie said evenly, trying hard to suppress the surge of humiliation that she had suffered that night. “Everyone there could see just how drunk you were.”

  “That’s not what I’m saying,” Sebastian said sharply. “I was drunk because I thought I had lost you.”

  Lizzie’s eyes widened with a mixture of shock and disbelief. “What do you mean, ‘lost me’, Sebastian?”

  Sebastian peered into her lovely, light eyes and swallowed hard.

  “Lizzie…” He reached for her hand and grasped it within his own. “As I told you on the train, I saw you looking chummy with Michael Sheridan earlier that day. I’d heard rumors that you two were dating, although I didn’t want to believe it. I was on my way to ask you out to dinner—on a real date—to take the next step, when I saw you with him. My first instinct was to strangle him until there was no breath left in his body,” Sebastian admitted, his chest rising and falling quickly, a sure sign that he was struggling to remain calm. “My second instinct was to take you into your classroom and ravage you until there was no doubt in your mind that I am the one that you’re meant to be with.”

  Frissons of pleasure skittered across Lizzie’s skin, leaving the hair on her head and arms standing on edge. Tingles of excitement shot across her scalp and stirred up a collection of fluttering butterflies in her stomach.

  “Sebastian,” Lizzie said. Sebastian stilled her words with a raised hand. “No,” she said. “I need to say this,” she paused and sucked in a steadying breath. “Sebastian, I have loved you from the moment that I first saw you standing on our front doorstep. Since then, I knew that there was no one else in the world for me. You are the one I love. You and only you.”

  “Lizzie,” Sebastian’s hand went to her cheek and cradled it warmly. “When Virginia and I came to England to visit you. I wasn’t going to come.” he admitted. “If I’m to be honest, I didn’t think you liked me anymore. I thought I had done something wrong because you didn’t even say goodbye before you left.”

  “Sebastian, you know why I—” Lizzie interjected but Sebastian silenced her.

  “I do know why, now,” he sighed heavily, gazing at Lizzie surrounded by a halo created by errant flashes of lightning. “I was all set to stay until I heard Virginia speaking to Mrs. Konstakis.” His thumb stroked the ridge of her cheekbone. “When I heard Virginia say that she hoped you’d meet a nice young man, the fire of jealousy stoked in my belly and I couldn’t control it.” Sebastian’s body relaxed, realizing that now was the time to leave nothing unsaid. “When I heard her say that, it nearly drove me crazy thinking that someone else was going to get to hold you, to kiss you, to…” his voice trailed off as Lizzie trembled nervously with desire. Everything she’d ever wanted to hear him say poured from his lips like water sating an unquenchable thirst. It occurred to her that just a few days ago, she hated him. Now, Lizzie knew the truth. To love him so and to think that he found her repulsive, had wounded her far more than anything else ever could. As they sat close, inches apart in the darkness, Lizzie realized that all the anger, fear, and resentment she bottled up had more to do with her grandmother’s death than it did with the thought of losing Sebastian.

  Acting on impulse, Lizzie pulled Sebastian’s head forward and kissed him. Sebastian’s arms encircled her waist, pulling her deliciously close to him. Lizzie sighed against his mouth as her fingers snaked up into his soft, golden-blonde hair. A sudden rap on the car window stopped them from going any further.

  “Care to explain why you’re both out here in the freezing rain instead of inside?” Hazel rapped on the door, standing in her rain slicker while juggling her umbrella and crutch.

  Sebastian squinted into the bright flashlight beam. “We had some things to discuss, Nana,” he said defensively.

  “So I see. Well, the same things can be said inside,” Hazel argued back, more worried than mad. “Imagine waking up to the lights going out and when I went to find you, neither of you were there!” she growled, growing increasingly irritated at standing in the pouring rain. “Get in the house before we all catch our deat
h of cold,” Hazel ordered and waited impatiently as both Lizzie and Sebastian obeyed.

  Ten minutes later, Lizzie sat in the kitchen while Sebastian tucked Hazel back in for the night. As she waited for him to return, Lizzie went about lighting candles and oil lamps.

  “She’s down, but I highly doubt that she will fall asleep any time soon.” Sebastian suddenly appeared in the doorway. He’d changed in the short time he’d been away. Gone was his rainslicker, slacks, and Wellingtons. There was no doubt that he’d changed from being damp from the rain. In their place was his worn Led Zeppelin T-shirt, loose-fitting jeans, and was barefoot. The image harkened back to the long nights at their dining table and pretending to read while stealing sidelong glances at him as he worked alongside Virginia. Lizzie, moved by the memory, was seated at the table with her arms folded on the table before her.

  “I don’t know where she gets her strength from but if you ever find out, please bottle it and give me some,” Lizzie said with an exhausted sigh.

  “You’ll have to wait in line,” Sebastian walked to the table and sat down beside her.

  “So, about what happened in the car…”

  “I love you, Lizzie,” Sebastian confessed without hesitation. Taking her hand, he tenderly threaded his fingers through hers. “I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. I was just too stupid to realize it. And everything that I said before, I meant,” he continued but Lizzie’s ragged breath stopped him.

  “Sebastian…I…” Lizzie fell silent. Everything that she’d hoped and dreamed of since she was a teen was all coming true. When she’d dreamt of this moment, she’d envisioned Sebastian sweeping her up into his arms. The type of grand, romantic gesture that provided the backbone for Virginia’s beloved steamy, romance novels. Now that it was here, she was at a loss, any boldness absolutely gone.