"Emily? Are you alright? You're very pale. Ciarán told me that you weren't at dinner last night." Mrs Cranford stood back to let me in. I walked in to the parlour as though I owned the place.
"W-what else d-did he say?" I demanded.
"Nothing of note. I think he hoped to see you today. He's out at present."
"Guh good. I came to see you. W-why didn't you t-tell me?" My eyes blazed down into hers. She met my gaze and her expression crumpled. She dropped, brittle and small into her armchair. At least she didn't pretend not to know what I meant.
"I suppose you over-heard those cackling biddies at the church." She swept her little claw of a hand over her eyes.
"I sh-should have huh heard it from you. Why didn't you t-tell me you lived in the vuh vicarage?" My voice came out more pleading than angry.
"You're right of course. I'm sorry, Emily. I was ashamed. I saw the Pattern first-hand not once but twice you see." She paused then. I held my breath, afraid she wouldn't continue. "When I was ten years old, we had evacuees from London to stay in the vicarage. Two older girls. More of an age with my older sister. The oldest girl died. She was found strangled on the Moor. I had seen her meeting a young man there but I was frightened and not allowed to wander by myself. Whatever her sister knew she kept to herself and then she went back to London. Later, when I was sixteen it all happened again. I don't know how he is able to come back again and again but he managed it-"
"I nuh know." My voice was grim. "Tell you after."
Mrs Cranford gave me a beady look and nodded once.
"Very well. That time I was the witness, like you are now, Emily. I suppose you want to walk away from it as I did? Yes.” She nodded. “I did. And that is why my sister, Lily, died. It was never reported in the papers. There was no one I could tell. I might have been able to save her. To break the Pattern for good so you wouldn't have to do this. I failed.
“My sister was very beautiful. I hated her like fire for that and for never having any time for me. I turned away from her. I let myself forget that no matter what else happened, we were sisters. There were things worth saving. Instead, Lily was used by the Pattern. She fed his desire to continue until he had brought Kate back. Everyone who died after that can be laid at my door." The bird-bright eyes shone with tears.
I was stricken. I’d been thinking the exact same way that she once had. Was any of this really Grace’s fault? Or was I letting jealousy and anger take over? The last of my fury collapsed in cold ashes. I couldn’t walk away from this.
I told Mrs Cranford everything I had worked out so far, ending with the snippet of information about the other Emily.
"Ah, yes. I was hoping you'd find the book so we could examine it together but it sounds like it's been taken from you for some reason." Mrs Cranford smiled a little. "According to local legend, Emily Bronte did indeed stay at the vicarage briefly. It was a visit her father, Reverend Patrick Bronte arranged. She wouldn't have been more than fourteen. In the end she was so homesick she was sent home. Young as she was, I believe she was one of the first witnesses."
"Sh-she didn’t solve the Pattern?"
"Have you ever read 'Wuthering Heights'?"
"Nuh no but if it was the b-book that went missing then it was the n-next one Mum and I were g-going to read."
"Really." Mrs Cranford gave me a piercing look. "That's interesting. You see 'Wuthering Heights' contains many pieces of the Pattern that replays here. Not all and it goes on its own road with a second generation written in. But still, too many similarities for it to be a coincidence. I don't know what you think of this for a theory but I believe Emily Bronte did try to break the Pattern with that book. She wrote the characters of Kate and Robbie into it as a way for them to be together. I think she took a lot of other elements too."
"W-well it didn't w-work!"
"Perhaps not. But then it's possible she weakened the Pattern."
I thought of the dream I'd had in hospital, of how Kate and Haze kept missing each other on the moor, and the same knot of anxiety I’d felt then tightened in my ribs. Mrs Cranford might well be right.
"W-why write about it?"
"I'm afraid I have no idea. Books have power though. If it was read by fifty people only, then that's fifty people all wishing the lovers to be together. At the end there is a hint they might be you see. After they've both died. The trouble is that the book isn't set here in this world."
"It's n-not?" I was now thoroughly confused.
"No. It's hotly debated of course, but I favour the theory that it is set in ‘Gondal’. An imaginary world Emily and her sister, Anne, invented together."
"Suh so it's n-not real?"
"Never say imaginary is the same as not real. Extraordinary things can come into existence through the mind of a powerful writer. No I'm quite sure Gondal exists somewhere."
"B-but where does that leave us with the puh Pattern?" I was determined to bring the conversation back to point where I understood what was going on.
"Until we know the origin of the Pattern, it leaves us nowhere. We need to know how it started. And the only one who knows is-"
"Helen." I sighed in defeat. Only I could talk to Helen. I looked at the carriage clock on the mantelpiece. "I b-better go to ch-church."
"Yes you had. Emily?"
"Yuh yes?"
"I had no idea Ciarán would be dragged into this." Mrs Cranford's shrewd eyes were pleading. "Please save him. Don't let him go the way Clayton did."
As the pale blue door closed after me, I remembered. Clayton had died in mysterious circumstances. I shivered as I ran back to St Martin's. I wouldn't let that happen to Ciarán. Even if he had meant to kiss Grace, I couldn’t let him die. I had no idea how I was going to do it but I was back. I'd bring Haze down. I would break the Pattern.
I just hoped I didn’t kill myself or anyone else in the attempt.
I Belong to the Earth (Unveiled Book 1) Page 47
