by Hannah Emery
Mrs du Rêve stared at Evelyn for a moment, saying nothing, her features still tight, fearful. Then a sob erupted from her, tears suddenly rushing down her cheeks. ‘Oh, Evelyn! Evelyn!’
‘What?’ Evelyn said, her voice shaking. ‘What is it?’ She pulled her mother upright, taking her over to the bed and sitting her on it like a child.
‘It’s not Jack at all. It’s nothing to do with him. I’m so pleased that you have him, because we have nothing left for you. It’s all gone Evelyn! It’s all gone!’
Evelyn put her hands up to her face. ‘What’s all gone?’ she asked, although she knew.
‘The money. The castle.’ Her mother slumped back on the bed. ‘It’s all gone. We’ve run out. The castle is too big to keep up with. Your father and I have tried, but it’s just impossible.’
‘But how has it happened? I don’t understand!’ Evelyn thought of their grand parties not so long ago; her proud father; of their dresses and china and crystal that had all gone missing over the last year or so to be repaired or valued, and never returned.
‘Oh, Evelyn! The war changed everything. We’re in debt to so many people who’ve done things for us. We thought we’d be able to pay them all off somehow, but we can’t. There are just too many bills, and our taxes are higher than ever. Before long the castle will be falling down around us. We just can’t afford to keep going like this.’
‘It can’t be true. I’m sure if you sold some things, you could make enough money to pay what you owe.’
Her mother shook her head, taking Evelyn’s hands in hers and gripping them tightly. ‘I didn’t want to tell you this today, Evelyn. But we agreed a sale on the castle yesterday. A consortium has kept offering to buy it, to make it into a university, and we’ve always said no. But now we’ve no choice. Some of your father’s relatives in France have offered to take us in for a while. It’ll do us good to have some time to think about what to do. We’ll go next week.’ Evelyn’s mother began to cry again. ‘I’m so sorry, Evelyn.’
‘France? But when will I see you again? Evelyn asked, questions tumbling from her mouth before she had even thought about them. ‘How am I meant to live in a different country from you? Without the castle? How can it be changed into something so different?’ Images of the castle, of her home, as a university, flew into her mind, making her feel sick. ‘I can’t take all of it in.’
‘Your father and I have thought about what you should do, Evelyn. Come with us! Bring Jack. He can start up a new shop. I’m sure your father’s family would help him along.’
Evelyn faltered. She thought of the plans she’d made with Jack, of the glittering life ahead of her in the city, of her bright future with her handsome husband. ‘I can’t,’ she said, the words surprising her. ‘Why don’t you come to London?’
Mrs du Rêve sighed. ‘We don’t have enough money to move to London. Your father’s family are our only chance.’
Evelyn thought frantically, desperately. If only there were a way they could all be together. Then she saw it from across the room, twinkling in the light.
‘The mirror!’ she said, racing over to her bedside table. ‘I have your mirror! We can sell it!’
Evelyn’s mother snatched the mirror away. ‘Evelyn! I didn’t know you had this! I warned you off it!’
Evelyn stared at her mother. Surely none of that mattered. Not now.
‘We can’t sell it.’
‘Why not?’
‘It’s been in the family for generations. It’s been passed down to whoever has lived here. We can’t take it away from the castle.’
‘Nonsense,’ said Evelyn, reaching for the mirror, but her mother cradled it tightly, as though it was a precious baby.
‘Evelyn. Listen to me. This mirror is a legacy of the castle. If it leaves these walls, whoever has taken it will be cursed.’
Evelyn frowned. ‘That’s so silly!’
‘Anyway, it wouldn’t be worth enough to make a difference. We owe all sorts of debts. We’ve tried lately to sell things and make some money. But it doesn’t stretch far enough, and there’s very little left to use up now. The only thing to do is sell the castle. We’ve already agreed to it. So the mirror isn’t even worth arguing about. Promise me you’ll leave it here, Evelyn.’
Evelyn thought about when she had packed the mirror in her suitcase to take to London, the day she had met Jack. It had left the castle then, and nothing bad had happened to her. But she stayed quiet. She knew she wasn’t going to begin her new life with Jack without it.
‘I’m so sorry, Evelyn. I can’t quite believe I’ve had to tell you all this on your wedding day. It’s not what I wanted for you. I wanted you to have a perfect day.’
Evelyn stood up and brushed her strange wedding dress down, her fingers catching on rough feathers and smooth pearls. She wiped a tear from her mother’s cheek and smiled. ‘I still will have a perfect day. And tonight, I will tell Jack and we’ll face it all as a family. He’ll help you decide what to do.’
Mrs du Rêve nodded, finally releasing her grasp on the mirror and leaving it on Evelyn’s bed. ‘And please, Evelyn. Tell nobody other than Jack about this. Nobody in Silenshore can know what has become of us. I couldn’t bear the shame.’
‘I won’t tell anybody else. Perhaps Jack and I will be able to visit you in France. Or perhaps we could even send you some money, once we’re settled in London. Jack’s sure that he can get me a job in the theatre, and I know his new shop will do well. Perhaps eventually you’ll be able to come back home.’
‘I hope so.’
‘Just wait. You’ll see,’ Evelyn said, her voice suddenly full of hope and light. ‘It will all turn out in the end.’
The wedding, at least, turned out well. It was only small, because since they had thrown fewer parties, the du Rêves appeared to have fewer friends. But that, as Mr du Rêve pointed out, was just the way the world went round. Jack’s parents had died years ago, so they weren’t there. A few men who knew Jack from his nights in the Smuggler’s Ship brought their wives, who wore things that were obviously modelled on the outfits of Princess Elizabeth’s wedding guests a few months before. Evelyn felt like rather a letdown when she saw their carefully chosen cheap furs and jewels, for in her mother’s old wedding dress she certainly didn’t look anything like a princess. A few people from Silenshore came to the church to flutter rose petals over them as they came out, and Evelyn wondered if she should ask them to the castle afterwards, but then she thought of her mother’s secret and stayed quiet. The reception in the castle, then, was a quiet affair. Evelyn didn’t have any friends to speak of, so the day was perhaps a little too quiet, and the dull January weather made it a little bit gloomy and cold. But if Evelyn felt cold; if she thought about the fact that it might be the last time she would ever sit in the castle dining room; if she felt a strange, twisting sensation low in her stomach every time she thought of her parents, then she would simply look across at her new husband, and smile and he would smile back, and Evelyn would think of all that she had before her.
On the night of her wedding to Jack, Evelyn lay stiffly in his bed above his shop. This, she had to remind herself, was her home now. Yet although she loved Jack, and had imagined living here so very often over the past few weeks, now that this was it, Evelyn felt frozen somehow. She thought of her bedroom in the castle, empty, all her things packed away; all her parents’ things being hurriedly stuffed into boxes. The castle had been so stripped of its valuables since the war that there wasn’t much at all for them to pack. Evelyn shivered and pulled Jack’s blanket – their blanket – over her cool skin.
When Jack appeared in the room and climbed into the bed next to her, Evelyn breathed in his foreign, meaty scent and tried not to think too much about all that was changing. He tugged at her nightdress gently, and she let him. But as he touched her, her skin seemed to recoil, and to her horror, tears gathered in her eyes.
Stop it, she told herself. Don’t be afraid, and don’t think about the
castle.
But it was too late. Jack had noticed. He sat up, frowning.
‘What’s the matter?’ he asked, a sigh escaping from his lips.
Evelyn shook her head tightly. ‘We’ll talk afterwards.’
‘No,’ Jack said, frowning. ‘Tell me.’
Evelyn sat up too, hugging her knees to her chest. She had been stern with herself about this: she would tell Jack in the morning, and let him have her to himself, without her family’s problems, tonight. But now, in this strange room full of scents and feelings she hadn’t even known existed before now, she felt her resolve crumbling into sand.
‘My parents,’ she wailed, unable to contain it any longer. ‘They’ve lost the castle! It’s gone, Jack. Their fortune, their home. It’s all gone, swallowed up by the war.’ She took a clumsy breath and managed to calm herself, quieten her words. ‘They’ve sold it, and they’ve nowhere to live. We need to help them.’
She looked at her new husband. In the darkness of the bedroom, he looked like a different man to the one she’d known up to now. He said nothing.
‘Jack,’ Evelyn said, tears catching in her throat. ‘Can we help them?’
Jack sighed again, more sharply this time. In the dim light of the bedside lamp, Evelyn saw something change in his eyes: a subtle shift from light to dark.
‘You’re telling me now?’ he asked quietly.
Evelyn nodded. ‘Yes. I meant to wait until tomorrow.’
Jack’s shout was unexpected: Evelyn had never heard him shout before. When it came, she covered her ears, found herself trembling underneath his blankets.
‘You’ve trapped me!’ The words seemed to swoop around the room, echoing and reverberating in Evelyn’s mind again and again.
She shook her head wildly. ‘No! No, Jack. I just didn’t want to ruin the day. My mother told me just before the ceremony. I couldn’t tell you at the church, could I?’
‘You married me on purpose,’ Jack stormed. ‘You knew you’d soon have nothing, so you married me.’
Evelyn shook her head again and again. ‘No!’ she shouted, her voice flying high in the room and matching Jack’s. ‘You’re wrong. That’s not what happened!’
‘You do know, Evelyn, that we have nothing? That I can’t help your parents? That I can barely get us by?’
Evelyn put her head in her hands, her body shuddering with sobs. Jack had promised her wealth and beautiful dresses, and a new flat in London. He’d told her that they didn’t need a honeymoon, because their new life in the best flat in the best part of the city would be like a honeymoon that would last forever. He told her all sorts of things, and she’d believed him, only now she saw that she was a stupid, stupid girl, because none of it was ever going to be true.
‘Oh, you’re wondering about the lies I told you?’ Jack laughed. ‘You’re wondering about all the things I said you could have? Well, they’re not real, Evelyn. So that leaves both of us disappointed.’ He leaned close to her, suddenly grotesque: his naked, hairy body repulsive. ‘And now you’re as trapped as I am.’
‘This came for you,’ Jack said, tossing a parcel onto the Formica table in the kitchen.
Evelyn glanced up from her untouched, grey porridge. It was only a few weeks since she’d become Jack’s wife, and already the sight of him wore her out. She pulled the parcel towards her, noting that the brown paper had already been torn into. Her heart seemed to stop as she saw the things inside: things that belonged to her old life. She took out a bottle of her mother’s Chanel perfume, half empty; a blood-red lipstick; a tiny photograph of her parents.
‘Was there an address? A note?’ Evelyn asked as Jack shovelled his own porridge into his mouth.
He shook his head.
‘But you opened it. Mother wouldn’t forget to tell me where she was. She knows I need her.’
Jack frowned. ‘They disappeared, Evelyn. Without telling you.’
Evelyn thought back to the day after her wedding, when she’d sneaked out of her new house as the sun sank in the grey sky. She’d only spent one lonely day in the shop as Jack came and went on errands, one night in his bed, and already she knew that she’d made a terrible, terrible mistake, and she needed to see her mother. Perhaps, she’d thought, she would go to France after all.
She’d run softly up the hill, from Jack’s shop, up to the elegant gates of the castle, but when she reached them, they were locked. Evelyn squinted, peering between the wrought-iron petals, and in an instant, she knew.
Her parents were gone.
‘My parents wouldn’t have disappeared suddenly like that if they could have helped it. They told me they were going the week after the wedding. Not the very next day,’ she said now to Jack, as he clattered his spoon clumsily around his bowl.
Jack shrugged. ‘They were probably chased away. I heard something at the Smuggler’s last week about them owing money all over the place.’
Evelyn’s cheeks burned at the thought of her parents being discussed by leery men who smelt of beer. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I’m telling you now,’ Jack said simply, standing up and brushing past her roughly before disappearing downstairs into the shop.
Evelyn stared after him, then sat back down at the table, pulling the box from her parents towards her again. There must have been more in the package: a letter or a card that Jack had hidden. They had left Evelyn their address: of course they had. She knew it. It was somewhere in this house. And as soon as she found it, she could find her parents again, and this nightmare would be over.
She searched the kitchen first, finding odd plates and chipped bowls and even a few pound notes, but no letter. She moved quickly, deftly, from one room to another: the lounge, the bedroom, the ugly cabinet on the landing, even the little pink bathroom. But she found nothing.
She sat on the strange, hard bed that was now hers, thinking and thinking. Perhaps somebody at the castle would know where her parents had gone. Jumping up again, she listened at the bedroom door for the sounds of Jack she had grown used to in the weeks since their marriage: his short, impatient cough; his stomping, his clanking and clattering of things for his shop downstairs.
She could hear nothing. Breathing a sigh of relief, she crept downstairs, and, silent as a cat, sneaked out of the back door into the golden afternoon.
Evelyn’s heart plummeted as soon as she slipped through the side entrance to the castle. Already the soul of her old home was being cut away, making way for something quite different. The university had already erected a large, unpleasant sign outside the gates, and the windows were bare, stripped of their drapes and character. It was as though there had never been elegant parties, grand games and music and fun inside.
A tall, lanky man was painting one of the tired-looking doorways. She watched him for a moment, swallowing down her mortification at suddenly being an outsider at the castle. Ignoring her flaming cheeks, she cleared her throat so that the man glanced at her, his dripping paintbrush dotting the floor with tiny mossy green splatters as he paused.
‘I’m sorry to bother you,’ Evelyn said, trying not to look at the mess the paintbrush was making. ‘I was wondering if you had any information on the previous owners? Where they went?’
The man turned back to his painting. ‘They were off as soon as the deal had been done. Glad for the castle to be taken off their hands. That’s it, really.’
That’s it. Evelyn shuddered. So simple, to someone who wasn’t experiencing it all, someone who hadn’t made an awful choice and lost everything.
‘But do you know why? I’ve heard they went sooner than they were meant to,’ she pressed, her voice beginning to break.
‘I suppose they were in a hurry. Maybe someone was after them,’ the man said, shrugging. ‘These rich people aren’t always what they seem.’
Evelyn felt something thud down inside her. ‘Oh, I see,’ she tried to make her voice sound less rich, as if it hadn’t been part of the castle for all of her life, and took a step away from
the newly painted glossy doorway.
‘Their daughter’s still around, you know. My pal said she’s still here in Silenshore. She got married to someone local, apparently. You could try and find her, if you really wanted to know the full story.’
Evelyn took another step away. Part of her wanted so badly to stay there for as long as she could, so that she was somehow absorbed back into the castle, into who she used to be. But the man kept glancing back at her as though he wondered what on earth she was still there for, so in the end she thanked him and turned away from her old life, and walked slowly back to her new one.
‘Do you think it’s true?’ she asked Jack that night. She’d managed to make them some sandwiches and bake a small, simple cake for tea and they had spoken about an original painting that Jack had managed to get his hands on that morning for the shop. Evelyn felt calmer than she had earlier, and now, as she looked at Jack, she wondered if things might not be as bad as she’d thought. He might be someone she could bear, if she tried. After all, he had made her so many promises. He couldn’t possibly go back on every single one of them.
‘Do I think what’s true?’
‘About my parents being chased away by someone. I wonder if that’s really why they went.’
‘Probably. I don’t know why else they’d go. Maybe they’d got on the wrong side of someone and needed to get away to be safe.’
Evelyn’s sense of calm crumbled as she suddenly realised what that might mean. ‘I might not be safe either, then,’ she said quietly. ‘People might recognise me. They might expect me to pay what my parents owed.’
Jack glanced at her, scorn quickly passing over his features. ‘With what?’
‘I don’t know. They won’t know I have nothing, will they?’
Jack sighed and Evelyn felt the cake she had made lying heavy in her stomach. Perhaps she hadn’t done a very good job of baking it after all.
‘Maybe,’ Jack said, ‘you should stay indoors for the next week or so. Just in case.’
Evelyn nodded. But although she wasn’t altogether bothered about going out: visiting the castle now that it wasn’t hers had been so peculiar that she didn’t much like the thought of going out in Silenshore again anyway, uneasiness still prickled inside her.
