The Girl in the Attic

by Wendy Reakes

  He stood behind me. “Do you like it. Are you happy?”

  I turned my head to gaze at him. I nodded my approval as I offered my deepest love for the man who wanted to give me a life of hope and splendour.

  “I will go back to my lodgings now. I will be back for you in the morning. We will be wed and then we can both come back here. We can sit outside and watch the sun set across our field. A field you can run in, Marley, as you did when you were a child. Remember?”

  I nodded.

  But, I wished more than anything he would hurry up and leave.

  He went through the door and left it ajar.

  When he was gone from sight, my smile faded as I picked up my step, ran outside, took hold of the wooden shutters and slammed them tightly shut, blocking out the sun. I ran back inside and forced the door closed, resting my body against it to prevent it from opening again.

  Inside my pocket was the letter from Celia. I reached for it and opened it from its single fold.

  My dearest Marley, it read. How unfortunate that I have to be the bearer of grave news. It is perhaps the worst time to tell you, yet I would feel I was betraying you by not informing you immediately.

  My pulse quickened. How like Celia to build me up and then give me the news. It probably wasn’t even that serious. I kept reading.

  Do you remember the likeness you saw in the mistress’s boudoir all those years ago, when Rain was a baby? Do you remember what we said about the image looking like the man who had tortured you so?

  Do you remember the embroidery you finished on behalf of Elizabeth, George’s wife, both of them now dead, yet still Edward’s grandfather and grandmother? Do you remember us talking about how, if he was who you thought he was, then the person in the image could be the father of our own dear Rain? Then, do you remember how you said you were sure that it wasn’t who you had first claimed it be?

  As I read Celia’s words, I thought, what was the point of dragging all of this up now?

  Today, at the wedding was a guest…a man with dark hair…from out Frome way…his name was William and I believe, I’m sorry to say, that he could have been your very own black-haired lout.

  I dropped the letter to the floor as my knees buckled beneath my body. And as my eyes scoured the darkness of the cottage with only tiny rays creeping through the wood in the shutters, I allowed my tears to fall freely, mourning the loss of my girl and my familiar attic home.

  Epilogue

  By now He would find me gone. Soon he will come searching, and the attic would be the first place he looked as he had three times before.

  “Marley.” His voice sounded like a growl, yet I knew it was not. He was the gentlest of men.

  He appeared through the forest of furniture. “I want you to come with me now, Marley.” He held out his hand, waiting for mine.

  Our bodies were trembling, both his and mine.

  “You can’t come back here,” he said gently, even though I could detect a mild irritation in his voice. “We are wed now. Your home is with me. I want you with me.”

  I shook my head, blocking out the notion of going outside once more. Perhaps if I could just stay for a little while… “I love you,” I whispered, “but being out there…in the open…well, it makes me fear. I’ve told you, it’s too big for me out there.”

  He shook his head. “Soon, your daughter and her husband will return from honeymoon. What will she say, Marley? What will her new family say when they discover her mother is living in the attic?”

  I pondered that for a moment.

  And as the idea formed in my head and as the words worked their way through my lips, I realised my future was sealed when I said, “But Michael,” I said, as if my heart was being pulled by a team of six horses, “Nobody needs to know.”

  The End

  Coming soon

  ‘My Mother in the Attic’