We end the call and I sit at my little kitchen amazed at the bravery of my friend, going out and getting what she most wants in the world. Soon we’ll have a brand-new baby to love!
*
The phone wakes me and I panic as I search for it in the dark. Is it the campers? Another problem with Anomaly? Eventually I find the blasted phone and answer it.
‘Orly speaking,’ I feel for the bedside lamp switch.
‘Darling, it’s me, Maya.’
Glancing at the time, I see it’s just gone midnight. ‘Are you OK?’ Please God not the baby!
‘Fine, fine. It’s just …’
‘Is baby Martinez OK?’
‘All good, darling. Sorry to worry you. It’s just I was online when I came across a Daily Sun article …’
‘Unusual for you to be online.’
‘Baby Martinez loves keeping me awake.’
‘OK, give it to me straight,’ I say propping up my pillow. The Daily Sun have done a number on me too many times to count and I wonder what they’ve written this time.
‘Your old nemesis Noel from the Daily Sun, has some pretty pictures of you and a bold clickbait headline about a mole in your camp.’
‘A mole?’
‘Yes, I’ll send it to you, but it goes on to say you’ve moved on, set up a wildly successful camp and you had none other than Carly C’s boyfriend arrive and beg forgiveness!’
‘What? But how?’ How could they know about Harry’s visit? Unless … ‘Noah? Is Noah the mole they’re referring to?’ I go on to explain to Maya all about Noah and his disappearing act, right before Harry turned up, almost as if Noah knew he’d be there! Did he go back to retrieve his camera and take some sneaky photographs?
‘I think so, darling. Who else could it be?’
‘It has to be him.’
‘Now you know why he’s been a terrible camp leader! But really the article paints Harry in a bad light. You come out smelling sweet as a rose. There’s pictures of the hall and the grounds, the lake and the woodlands, and the copy is all about how it’s the perfect remedy for burnout, or those like yourself, who were running away because of a broken heart. The photos of you are breathtaking too.’
I grin. That makes a nice change. ‘You can’t beat that sort of advertising!’
‘So while Noah must’ve been a mole – and you’re down a camp leader – you’ve just got the word spread about the camp for free all over the Daily Sun site! Let me send it to you.’
‘Wonders will never cease.’
‘You do lead a very exciting life, Orly. I thought people moved to the country to settle down …’
‘So did I, Maya, so did I, but that’s not quite the case, is it?’ We burst out laughing. ‘So I guess we can rule out Noah as the note leaver?’
‘Yes, I doubt he’d have any reason to do that.’
Back to square one then.
Just before I snuggle back under the covers my phone beeps with a text.
Hey Orly, sorry about the whole Harry fiasco. He told me things were over between you guys, but I’ve since found out that wasn’t the case – and I’m guessing everything else he said about you was a lie too. I’d never intentionally do that to another queen, so I hope you accept my apology? Also, I’ve seen the Carly Army posts and I’m so sorry! I posted online about it a while ago, so I hope it has all stopped – let me know if they start on you again. They’re just misguided in their love of me. Who can blame them, eh? Joke. Take care, Carly C xxx
I go to Carly C’s Facebook page and see a post pinned to the top of her page:
Queens,
It’s come to my attention that Orly Taylor has been the victim of a lot of cyber bullying from some of my fans AKA the #CarlyArmy. Let me put it to you straight: Orly has never done anything that the press have blamed her for. In fact, she’s the innocent party in this whole mess and her life has been turned upside down over it. I know you queens only want to protect me, but remember words still hurt even when they’re on Facebook so think before you type, always. Much love, Carly C
I always knew Carly C was cool in her own unique way. And this explains why the Carly Army posts on the Honeysuckle Hall page stopped as quickly as they started …
Chapter 28
Early the next morning, I leave Jock in charge of making breakfast for the campers and I race over to Esterlita’s cottage to bask with her about Maya’s baby news, even though the cunning minx has kept it from me all this time.
I bang on her front door and Esterlita answers, eyes wide. ‘What is it? Orly, is something on fire?’
‘You didn’t tell me!’
‘You know?’
‘And you kept it from me this whole time! Why the long face? This is great news! And I’m only joking about you keeping it from me. Are you OK?’ Esterlita looks stunned as if she can’t quite keep up with me. Maybe I’m talking too fast.
She double blinks before her eyes clear. ‘You mean Maya?’
I nod. ‘Yes! What else would I mean? I’m so excited I could burst. She’s going to come and stay and find a little cottage near us. Can I come in?’
Esterlita stands sideways in the doorway, so I edge past, wondering why I’ve never seen inside her cottage before. I guess it’s because she’s never invited me and she’s always at my place, as though I conjured her bustling after me with her Pinoy advice.
‘Oh, wow, Es I love your place.’ As expected she has a lime-green sofa and a pink footstool. Her walls are egg-yolk yellow, and somehow it works. It’s bold and bright like Esterlita herself. ‘Is your sofa new?’ Everything is covered with plastic. Either she hasn’t unwrapped the packaging or she’s planning on committing on a gruesome bloody murder.
‘What do you mean is it new? Of course it’s not new.’ She harrumphs.
Oh. ‘The plastic is to protect it?’
‘What else would it be for?’
‘I’m an idiot.’ I deflate a little, wondering why Esterlita isn’t her usual bubbly self, especially since we have such joyful news to celebrate together.
‘Sometimes you are an idiot.’
‘Thanks, Es.’
‘You’re welcome.’
‘Is this Edward?’ I say pointing to a portrait of a smiling, bald man with kind eyes.
‘My beloved.’ She motions to the kitchen. ‘Let’s go in there.’
I ignore her, wanting to see the picture up close. ‘He looks like a nice guy.’ Around the frame, Esterlita has set up a little shrine to her beloved.
‘What’s this?’ I point to a framed letter.
She sighs. ‘It’s a love letter to Edward.’ She turns the frame around so I can’t read it, which I suppose is fair since it’s a private letter – but it’s so out of character for Esterlita, who is usually such an over-sharer. There’s something about it that pulls at my mind though. ‘Never mind all that,’ she continues brusquely. ‘What can I help you with?’
I ignore Esterlita and her sudden coldness and stand with my back to her, still facing the shrine. There’s a crucifix, a bouquet of fake red roses, candles that flicker in the dim room casting shadows over the wall. There’s a statue of a religious figure, with a plate announcing him as Anthony of Padua, the patron saint of missing persons and lost things. There’s also a stash of relics that must have belonged to her husband, Edward. Binoculars, specs, a gold wedding band.
I turn the love letter back to face me, the letter with its neat block handwriting that I recognise, and my heart constricts so tightly that I can’t catch my breath. It’s an intense pain. Time stops and all I can hear is the rush of my own pulse.
‘The notes?’ Never in a million years …
I face her, and see her eyes are bright with tears.
We don’t speak; it’s as if all we have between us is secrets.
How could she?
‘I’m so sorry, Orly.’
‘Why? Why would you do this to me?’ Hurt and confusion pulse inside of me.
‘It’s not what you th
ink.’
‘Right.’ I shake my head. ‘What is it then?’
‘I wanted to scare you away from the idea of the camps. They’re so dangerous, Orly, and you have no idea. I didn’t mean …’ I take care to stay very still while my heart gallops, making me feel dizzy with the realisation it was Esterlita all along. My cheery, OTT neighbour has been behind this campaign and I just cannot understand how she could do such a thing and face me every day in the meantime! ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’
‘Well you have, Esterlita.’
‘Edward went missing in the woodlands,’ she says, her voice breaking.
She wipes at her eyes, and drops her head. Larger than life Esterlita suddenly appears so old and fail in the flickering candlelight, but I’m so shocked I don’t comfort her. I don’t quite know what to do.
She continues. ‘He was a hiker, he liked birdwatching.’ The binoculars at the shrine. I’m reminded of when I first arrived and she asked if I was going to give up on life and start collecting stamps and birdwatching. Go on long hikes and never return.
Goose bumps break out over my skin. ‘What happened, Es?’
She shuffles slowly to the sofa and plonks down as if all the energy has drained from her. ‘He loved hiking in those horrible woodlands, trying to find his way back out with only the call of birds to go by. He wouldn’t take a compass, no point taking a phone as there’s no reception once you’re in there, wanted to rely on his senses, nature around him. He’d been walking those tracks forever so I figured if anyone knew how to navigate them, he did.’ She grabs a tissue from a sequin-covered box. ‘He always went alone and camped out. Once a month or so. He left on the Friday evening as usual, but didn’t return on the Sunday. I didn’t panic, not at first. Sometimes, he did that, stayed an extra day or two.’
A cold shiver runs down the length of me.
‘By Monday I just had this feeling that he was in trouble. But trying to convince the locals was almost impossible. They knew Edward liked to wander, and no one knew where to even start looking for him. Those who helped did so half-heartedly, believing he’d be camped somewhere and annoyed at their intruding, annoyed I was panicking over nothing. But I knew. I could feel it here.’ She pats her heart.
My eyes well up as I think of Esterlita trying to get someone, anyone, to listen and help her search in the dense woodlands. The hard part of me softens as I begin to realise what she’s done and why.
With a shuddery breath, she continues: ‘Eventually I convinced a couple of Edward’s friends to help search. They knew I sometimes had these sorts of premonitions, and while we usually joked about them, they took it seriously enough that day, because I was utterly beside myself with worry. They told me to wait at my cottage in case he returned and they set out to look.’
‘That must’ve been so horrible for you, sitting here waiting like that. Was anyone with you?’ I think of how comforting and maternal she is, and I hope someone returned the favour when she most needed it.
‘No, I didn’t want anyone here. I just lit my candles, held my rosary and prayed. I prayed as hard as any woman ever has. But somehow I still knew it was too late. I have a very strong faith, but if it’s His will then who am I to argue?’
I sit next to Esterlita and stick to the plastic on the sofa.
‘They came back a day later, their faces grey, unable to meet my eye. Until that point I never really knew what heartbreak felt like. They didn’t have to tell me; I knew, but I felt so devastated for them, finding him like that, and for me. Suddenly adrift in this world, with no Edward. My beloved gone to a better place.’
‘What happened to him out there, Es?’
Her shoulders shake as she fights tears. When she’s composed she speaks: ‘He fell and hit his head on a rock, just like that, gone. He was on a steep part of the track and it was unseasonably wet that day but he must’ve thought he could handle it. He’d hiked that track many times before. They say he wouldn’t have suffered for long, but really, how can they know that? How can they know the passage of time? I know my Edward would have suffered; even a minute would have felt like a lifetime knowing he wasn’t going to come back to me. I thanked the men and then I shut my door and I went straight to bed. I didn’t want to be in the world without him, but my faith helped me stay.’
I put an arm around pocket-sized Es and marvel at how tough she’s had to be. ‘I’m so sorry, Es. I wish I’d known; I wish I’d asked you more about Edward and had been there for you so I could understand why campers heading off into the woodlands worried you so much.’
She shrugs. ‘I wouldn’t have told you. I thought I’d scare you from the idea of an adventure camp pretty fast and that would be that. I don’t want anyone else to lose someone they love. I didn’t want your campers to have an accident. It would break my heart all over again.’
‘That’s why you kept suggesting I find a rich husband? So I wouldn’t need to host the camps?’
She laughs. ‘Who doesn’t want a rich husband?’
I remember all her ideas: the hall as a wedding venue instead, marrying a lesser royal, so many zany ploys to stop me from having people who’d head into the woods and possibly not come out again. And it’s why she’s helped out since, to keep an eye on the campers and make sure they’re safe. ‘So you left the photo and the notes?’
She has the grace to redden. ‘Yes, I tried everything I could think of to make you think that someone had it in for you, that you were putting people at risk. I’m so sorry, Orly. I never want anyone to go through what I went through. Those woodlands are not safe. And with Noah, I knew he had no idea what he was talking about when he mentioned all the activities he had planned – he was going to put innocent people’s lives in danger. He said he could lose days hiking and that scared me, coming from someone who doesn’t know this area and that the woodlands are not right for amateur hikers.’
Part of me is relieved it’s Esterlita behind the fearmongering campaign and not someone who is truly out to get me. It all makes sense, locals not wanting to tell me any history of the hall, in case it slipped out what happened in the woodlands behind. Why they kept saying things like leave the past in the past – they were all trying to protect Esterlita. It went on the market just after he died, so no wonder the locals didn’t want to buy it – they wouldn’t do that to her.
‘When Anomaly said there was a dog who sounded like a wolf, it confirmed to me that Edward’s spirit is still here, in limbo.’
‘You think his ghost is out there, unable to find peace? Wandering up and down the woodlands trying to find his way home? So you don’t want anyone else out there getting lost?’ I think back to all the times she tried to get me to keep the campers inside the hall, do less active pursuits so they wouldn’t be in harm’s way. Wouldn’t end up like her Edward. It’s never been a spiteful thing – it’s been about keeping people safe, because of what happened to Edward.
‘It means there’s unfinished business.’
‘Like what, Es?’
‘Like this. I knew I’d have to admit what I’d done to you. Scaring you off from hosting camps wasn’t the right thing to do. I need to beg for your forgiveness and make amends somehow. I’d hate my Edward to think less of me for what I’ve done. And if I’ve lost you as a friend over it I’ll be heartbroken, Orly, but I will understand.’
‘You’ll never lose me, Es.’ I hug her tight and feel all the worry and confusion leach from my body. I could never hold this against her, never in a million years. ‘All is forgiven, and there’s no need to make amends.’ How can I stay mad at this tiny woman in my arms?
I shake my head at the tumultuous time I’ve had here. But I know Esterlita and I will have a lot to work through so she knows everyone will be safe. I want her to enjoy meeting campers every week, not worry they’re going to suffer the same fate as her Edward. She weeps in my arms and I hug her tight.
*
As I’m crossing the road, the postie waves and hands me a stack of mail. We
shoot the breeze for a bit, before he continues on. I flick through the envelopes in case there’s anything urgent, and come across one that doesn’t look like a bill of some sort. I open it up and inside I find yet another envelope, one yellowed and musty with age addressed to Elizabeth.
It can’t be the same Elizabeth?
I dash inside and gently take the enclosed letter out.
Dearest Elizabeth,
I hope this letter finds you well. I miss you terribly too. I yearn for the days afore where we had all the time in the world to meander in the parklands, under the watchful eye of your chaperone, whereas now, I can’t even see you from a distance.
Things did not go well with your father. In fact, they went frightfully badly. He recommends that I distance myself from you, and if I did truly love you, then I would see that as someone far below your station, that I should do the manly thing and walk away. Allow you to find a gentleman who will have the ability to care for you in the manner to which you are accustomed.
Of course, the thought of such a thing hurts more than I can bear; however, I do wonder if he might be correct. I can never provide for you in the way Mr Collins with his grand estate can. You father told me Collins has asked for your hand and that he was going to acquiesce, if only you would see sense in the matter. What can a poor farmer like me do?
So, it is with much regret that I say goodbye, my love, and only hope your life is as grand and happy as I hope it will be. I know I will pine for you until the day I die; however, I will take great delight in imagining you living a life of luxury as you so deserve and that, my dear, is the only reason I say goodbye today.
Ever yours,
George
No! They didn’t stay together? Poor George who loved her so. I need to know more, so I call Lilac from the Little Shop of Lost and Found.
Escape to Honeysuckle Hall Page 26
