THE COMPLETE TRILOGY, COMPENDIUM OF THE HEART: An epic love story

by RJ Hunter

  Fearing that he could have hurt himself, Sally tried to reach William as quickly as possible. She stepped into his footsteps and called out to him. Then, making exactly the same mistake as he had, she found herself falling ungracefully straight on top of him.

  For a few moments they both lay perfectly still, half expecting to feel the pain from any injuries they may have sustained. William moved his head slightly to look up at her, "Did you hurt yourself?"

  "No, but I may have ripped my dress. I'm just glad I had you for a soft landing!"

  He laughed and brushed some snow from her face.

  "Tell me, do you always end up in the gutter after a night out?"

  Sally scooped up a handful of snow and plonked it down on William's head. He retaliated and did the same to her. Soon a mini snowball war was under way which lasted for several minutes. Once they were both sufficiently covered from head to toe in frozen ice, William raised his hands in mock surrender. He then took off his duffle coat, gave it a good shake, and went over and placed it around Sally's shoulders. She was touched by this and smiled up at him. He then reached into one of the pockets and retrieved the scarf she had left in the library. He led her over to a dimly-lit doorway and draped the scarf lightly around her neck. A drop of melted snow fell from Sally's damp hair and trickled down her cheek. William lowered his head and placed a kiss where it had landed.

  Sally let out a sigh, and instinctively reached out to put her arms around him. William looked into her eyes, then glanced down to her lips. She opened her mouth, as if to speak, but no words came out. Still holding the ends of the scarf, he pulled her towards him. Sally responded, and allowed his lips to find hers. After a few moments, she pulled away, as if she couldn't quite trust herself. She then looked up at him once more, before letting herself fall into his arms again, and re-united her mouth with his.

  The warm, tingling sensation deep down in her stomach, the same one she had experienced earlier, returned. William's coat slipped off her shoulders, and fell into the snow, but Sally didn't notice.

  The strong aroma of freshly-made coffee then wound its way through the falling snowflakes, and was potent enough to bring a halt to the proceedings taking place in the doorway. William was the first to speak, as he knelt down to retrieve the coat and placed back around her.

  "The coffee smells delicious, doesn't it? It comes from Pedro's, just up the street, " he indicated. "Sometimes, the air is thick with the smell of garlic too. Are you hungry!"

  She shook her head, "No, but I'd love some coffee, and the chance to get warm."

  Over the years, Pedro's had become extremely popular with students, faculty and townsfolk alike, not only because it stayed open late most evenings, but because of its Catalan owner, of the same name. Pedro was a very jovial, likeable eccentric, who had turned what was once a profit-losing bread and butter establishment into a smart, bohemian bistro. It was renowned for its excellent food, great coffee, and good service, and was now the principle meeting place in town. Pedro had succeeded in re-creating a distinctive, Mediterranean atmosphere in a small, Welsh town. The brightly painted exterior looked authentically rustic, and inviting, with its blue awning and candle-lit tables in the windows.

  The restaurant was half full, and William and Sally sat themselves in a secluded corner. William ordered two large mugs of coffee, and a couple of shots of brandy, to warm them both up.

  Pedro brought the drinks over, with a cheery smile, and lit the candle in the centre of the table. He also left a complimentary bowl of olives, along with a couple of tasty-looking hunks of French bread. He was a balding, weather-beaten man of about sixty, who, judging by the girth of his midriff, obviously enjoyed his food.

  As they sipped their coffee, William sensed all was not right with Sally. He wondered if he'd taken things too quickly when he'd kissed her. A silence came over them, but eventually it was Sally who spoke first.

  "William, please tell me more about your house. Is it nearby?"

  He went on to tell her with great enthusiasm about the pretty farmhouse, where both he and David had been born. It was set in five acres of land, and was situated next to a vast orchard.

  Sally nibbled at an olive, and listened intently as William described the layout of the old stone and timber-built house. She found herself longing to be there with him during the cold, winter evenings, all cuddled up warm and cosy by a roaring log fire. In her mind's eye, she visualised the rickety staircase, the vast collection of old books, and the ticking of a grandfather clock. To Sally, the house William was describing fulfilled her every dream of what a home should be like. It seemed like a million miles from the cold, stuffy existence she had been used to.

  "I would love you to see the house one day, Sally. I'm sure you'll like it," continued, William, helping himself to some French bread. "Perhaps, you could come over for dinner some time, then you could meet David?"

  "It sounds wonderful, I would love to," replied Sally, looking dewy-eyed. "So can you and David cook then?"

  "Well, no, not exactly, but I'm sure we can cross that bridge when we come to it!"

  "I can cook for both of you, I did domestic science at school, and advanced cookery. I can do a fantastic roast dinner!"

  "Sally, you must be an angel, sent down from heaven. I can't wait." They both laughed, but again, the silence returned.

  "Is there something wrong, Sally?" He asked concerned, "I'm sorry I kissed you. Maybe, I shouldn't have done that?"

  She glanced at him affectionately, and went to speak, but she found herself embarrassed. She took a sip of her coffee, before gazing into his eyes, and completely taking him by surprise.

  "William, please take me home with you - let me stay with you tonight?"

  He took in a deep breath, and looked about him, feeling slightly awkward, in case anyone else had heard. He then looked back at her, "I'll go and get the coats."

  As he went to stand up, Sally turned to him.

  "I'm so scared of being on my own. I don't want to go back to my room." She glanced down and tried to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. "I'm terrified of Frank. He said such awful things about what he was going to do to me."

  William cursed himself for being so ignorant. The events at the assembly hall earlier had been horrendous, and it was no wonder, Sally was terrified. More people began to arrive at Pedro's just as William and Sally were leaving, and they had to politely turn down invitations to stay from students who they recognised from the dance.

  Outside, the snow had eased sufficiently for them to continue with their journey. They carried on following the High Street, before turning left into Orchard Lane, where William lived. The road was completely empty, with not even a car in sight. It looked quite picturesque, swathed in pure white, and appearing as if it went on forever, winding its way into the distance.

  William pointed to a house about a hundred yards further on. It had a lantern shining out on the porch, and Sally could make out the faint glow of a Christmas tree in one of the downstairs windows. As they got closer, William reached into his pocket for his keys. Then, as he lifted them out, he found something else attached to them. Holding up the necklace, he stopped, and showed it to Sally.

  "I picked it up, from the dance floor during the trouble. I totally forgot I still had it."

  Sally looked at the necklace intensely, and paused for a moment, before speaking.

  "I don't want it, William. If Frank did attack Pauline, like she said, then this necklace is associated with a horrid crime." She turned away, and backed off. "Frank wanted to take me to that hotel tonight. It scares me, William, please get rid of it."

  Without another word, he pulled back his arm, and threw the gold necklace far out into the snow

  .

  8. ORCHARD LANE

  Ken gazed up at the window and immediately recognised Lizzie's silhouette as she drew the curtains. He was waiting for the right opportunity to gain access to Lloyd-Evans Hall. But now he was getting cold as he stood shelte
ring beneath the huge stone archway that led into the courtyard. Security at night had been relaxed a little now that the first-year students had finally settled into university life. But, because Lloyd-Evans was a female-only hall of residence, it was not the ideal place for Ken to be challenged, bearing in mind his association with Frank. He pulled up the collar of his dinner jacket to shield his neck from the biting wind and continued to wait for someone he knew to give him access. The icy vigil had at least sobered Ken up somewhat, and had brought home to him the reality of what had taken place that evening.

  He had known at the time that he needed to make a decision, and that is exactly what he did. Now, Ken had realised it was the wrong decision. He reached into his pocket for his cigarettes, only to remember that he'd left them over at the assembly hall during all the excitement. Instead, and to take his mind off things, he tried to rehearse in his thoughts what he would say to Lizzie. But, his mind was troubled, and he kept going back to the events earlier, and the realisation, that he too, might be tarred by the same brush as Frank. He had to disassociate himself from his friend immediately, and in a way, Frank had already given him cause to do just that.

  During the incident at the dance, Ken had merely looked on in total disbelief, much like everyone else. At first, he had even thought it was a prank, it certainly wouldn't be beyond the rugby team to try something like that. But even when reality had set in, there was nothing Ken could really do. It was a personal thing, and besides, Frank knew what he was doing, and would never allow himself to be intimidated, especially by a woman.

  He had gasped in shock, to see Frank run away like that, and had half expected him to just re-appear. But when it became apparent to all, that he had fled like a frightened rabbit, Ken felt embarrassed, not only for Frank, but for himself too. After all, they were meant to be friends, and Frank's abrupt departure could only mean one thing, he was guilty, and perhaps, Pauline was telling the truth.

  However, in an act of misguided loyalty, Ken had left the hall to go and look for his friend, totally ignoring Lizzie's pleas for him to come back.

  At first he had been surprised by the sudden snowfall, and could only see a few yards ahead. He eventually caught up with Frank near the gatehouse. Frank had been in two minds where to go, he was bleeding profusely from the glass wound inflicted earlier by Pauline, but he also wanted to find somewhere to hide the large amount of cannabis he was carrying, in case he was arrested.

  It was when Frank turned on him aggressively, that Ken realised he'd made a big mistake and should have stayed in the hall.

  With one fist raised, and the other still clutching the bloodied handkerchief to the side of his face, Frank advanced on Ken, thinking it may be Meredith coming to apprehend him. But even after recognising his pursuer as his old friend, Frank still acted in a threatening manner.

  "Frank, it's me, Ken, wait!"

  The blow was powerful and would have caused considerable damage if it had connected to Ken's face. Fortunately, he was able to see it coming and managed to pull his head back, so that the punch just glanced off him.

  "Where the hell were you?" Growled Frank, rounding on Ken once more. "You weren't there when I needed you. Look, see what that bitch did to me, you yellow bastard!"

  Ken quaked under the onslaught and began to retreat, fearing Frank would start lashing out again.

  "There was nothing I could do, Frank," pleaded Ken, raising his arms defensively. "What did you expect - me to come up and thump Pauline in front of everyone. I was just as surprised as you were."

  A car came up beside them, and nearly ran into Ken as he stepped back, out of Frank's reach. The car's headlights lit up the fury emblazoned on Frank's bitter, twisted face as he scowled at the driver. Other people leaving the function on foot looked away and gave the pair a wide berth. A night-watchman came out of the gatehouse to see what all the commotion was about, only to quickly return following a torrent of abuse. Standing just across the road, waited the three local men, biding their time. It was Frank who they really wanted, but dishing out a sound beating to both these two could provide greater satisfaction.

  The car seemed in no hurry to go, and eventually drove alongside the two students. Ken saw the window being lowered and found himself staring straight at the Dean of Students. It was then he realised that he now had a great chance to distance himself from Frank, and perhaps, come out of this with a bit of credit.

  "Mr. Meredith, I'm glad you're here, look - I've caught him. Please help, I wont be able to hold him on my own."

  John Meredith opened the door and got out of the car. He recognised Ken as being Frank's friend and seemed a little surprised at what he was hearing.

  "Well done Kenneth, that's very commendable of you. Now be careful, I don't want anyone getting hurt." The Dean then came between Frank and Ken and beckoned them to step away from each other. "Go home Kenneth, this fellow will be dealt through the proper channels, and no doubt by the police as well. Thank-you for what you tried to do."

  Frank couldn't quite believe what he was hearing and cursed Ken further, for betraying him in such an underhand, and cowardly manner. He then turned unsteadily, and began to make his way along the High Street. The Dean waited until the warring factions had gone their separate ways, before returning to Jane, who was waiting in the warm car. As they drove past the lurching figure of Frank, the Dean called to him, "You had better get that cut seen to Gant, it looks bad!" The only reply he got was in the form of a two-fingered gesture.

  After another few minutes of waiting, Ken decided to find a telephone and ring Lizzie. Burying his frozen fingers deep into his trouser pockets, he began to trudge back to the hall. He had only taken a few steps when he saw the lone figure coming towards him. At first, he couldn't see who it was, as the girl's face was obscured by the hood on her duffle coat. She was visibly startled and stepped aside fearfully when he came upon her so suddenly.

  "Karen, is that you? It's okay, don't be scared - it's me, Ken!"

  She walked in a half circle, trying to reach the door of Lloyd-Evans Hall without getting too close to him. Ken noticed the look of sheer terror in her eyes, as the building's entrance light began to envelope her. They both arrived at the door together, and Karen, even though she had her key ready in her hand, began to fumble and couldn't quite find the lock. She realised, that to open the door, she needed to take her eyes off Ken, if even just for a moment.

  "Is he here with you?" She asked anxiously, looking around for any signs of Frank. "You're not going to hurt me are you?"

  "No, Karen, of course I'm not. I need to see Lizzie, it's important. I'm alone, Frank isn't here. I don't know where he is, and I don't care. Look, I know what he did to you, and he's going to pay. I want nothing more to do with him."

  Karen, her suspicions abating, gazed up at him, and nodded, as she finally got the door open. Ken followed her inside, and gently touched her on the shoulder.

  "Please try to be strong Karen, Frank's time is well and truly up, he wont hurt anyone again."

  "I wish I could believe that." She replied, locking the door.

  Lizzie peered out of her room, half expecting it to be Sally. Her face displayed no real emotion at finding Ken there instead. He expected something from her, even if it was a mouthful of expletives, but there was nothing from Lizzie and Ken found this hard to fathom. He shook the snow from his jacket, and moved to enter the room.

  "Come on Lizzie, what is it with the women around here? It's enough to give a guy a complex."

  A short while earlier, Lizzie had learnt about the death of her 'mother', Margaret. However, Edward had still not told her that Pamela and the young soldier, he had tried to save during the war, were her real parents. Lizzie felt guilty, and somehow responsible for something that was inevitable. She should never have gone to the dance in view of the terrible argument she'd had with Edward and her sister, not to mention the awful episode with Pamela. Perhaps, Janice had been right all along about Lizzie's character being sel
fish and uncaring.

  She had known immediately that the news would be bad, as soon as Karen had given her the message to call home. Sally, of course had offered to return to Lloyd-Evans Hall with her, but Lizzie had refused, she didn't want to burden her self anymore on her best friend. Instead, she hid behind her usual facade, and even fooled Sally into thinking everything was alright. Besides, at the time, Lizzie felt that in Ken, she did have someone to stand by her. He certainly didn't possess the emotional capacity of Sally, but he knew Lizzie just as well, and could be kind, gentle and understanding when the mood took him. Lizzie, however, would often resent him when Frank was around, as Ken always assumed a similar character to his vile, gloating friend. The Ken who Lizzie now needed was the same one that would hold her tightly after they had made love, who would brave refec early in the morning to smuggle her up breakfast in bed. Her Ken would lift her when she was down, he would make her laugh with his antics and build her confidence by telling her how great she was. But now, it was as if he had betrayed not only her, but womanhood in general. He had gone off after Frank, despite her pleading with him not to. She realised the powerful hold Frank could exert over people, but no matter how strong the influence, she could never forgive Ken for leaving her in favour of a an accused rapist and woman-hater. It became apparent to Lizzie that if Ken was so eager to follow a monster such as Frank, then he must condone his actions and therefore be of the same ilk.

  "Lizzie, why didn't you wait for me, why did you come back alone?" Asked Ken, with the little-boy-lost expression on his face, but Lizzie wasn't prepared to accept any of it.

  "Get the hell out of my room this instance!" She shouted, holding open the door.