Realm of Darkness

by C F Dunn

  “But the conference is three weeks away, Guy,” I interrupted curtly, “and you weren’t on the list.”

  Eckhart rubbed an inky hand over his nose. “Ah, no, there were some last minute changes, and when I heard Dr Hilliard was in the country publicizing his new book, I thought how fortuitous. You’ve seen Dr Hilliard’s book, Professor, a brilliant work.” Shut up! I yelled at him silently, my jaw aching with the effort to control my tongue. “You must remember, you had it a f… few weeks ago in your tutor room.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “On your desk.”

  Guy’s interest quickened. “Did you now?”

  I grew crimson. “One of my students read it,” I said defensively, shoving my hands in my pockets to stop them from shaking. “What are you doing here, Guy?” I knew I sounded rude – I saw it mirrored in the baffled expressions of my friends – but they couldn’t see what I saw, they couldn’t feel what I felt.

  If Guy took offence, he didn’t show it. “I happened to be in the area and had the opportunity to take in the conference.” Well, that wasn’t true for a start; Guy never happened to be anywhere he hadn’t planned on being with all the precision of a military operation. “I also wanted to do some research beforehand. I believe the library here has some interesting documents I might take a look at if I have the time. One or two of them are unique, I believe.”

  Avoiding his eyes in case he saw the panic swelling behind mine, I remembered to breathe, the frozen rivers of my veins becoming fissures of molten lead.

  Eckhart’s owl-like eyes swivelled in ecstasy. “Ah yes, the library – a magnificent collection. As you specialize in the s… same period, perhaps Professor D’Eresby could show you?”

  Guy cracked a rare smile. “I don’t wish to bother Emma. I’m sure she has better things to do than show me the library.”

  “I do,” I said bluntly. “I’m far too busy.”

  Matias frowned. “Busy? But I thought you girls were going to spend an afternoon eating, drinking, and watching Now, Voyager?”

  “Brief Encounter,” Elena corrected him.

  Guy’s sharp mouth rose in a smile just short of derisory. “Brief Encounter? Not Emma’s choice I think, so it must be yours, Professor…?” Guy turned to Elena. “Emma, you haven’t introduced your friends.”

  Elena forgot to be cautious under his concentrated gaze. “Elena Smalova.” She held out her hand, which he took and held a little over-long.

  “The Elena Smalova of St Petersburg Institute of Historical Studies? I’ve read your insightful articles on post-Revolutionary popular culture with great interest. I believe you studied under Professor Sergei Bogdanovich? I had immense respect for the man. We must get together; I have a few questions you might be able to answer.”

  “Da, of course,” she acquiesced too quickly, almost simpering at his flattery and ignoring my ferocious glare. Matias bristled next to her until she pulled him forward and introduced him. “This is my fiancé, Matias Lidström. He is a brilliant research scientist…”

  She rattled on happily and Guy listened as if he cared. I’d had enough. I watched their faces; I sensed their gullibility. Even my friend who knew something of my history had seemingly forgotten, her initial watchfulness blown away by the strength of Guy’s sincerity. And Matias, upon whom I could usually rely to exercise better judgment, seemed outwardly taken in. I couldn’t really blame them – after all, what had Guy ever done to them to earn my disdain? But they were my friends and already he had insinuated himself into my relationships and cast shades of doubt in their minds, questioning my version of the truth.

  “Excuse me.” Detaching myself, I headed in the direction of the car park as fast as I could distance myself from them. I heard feet running on the soft earth behind me, but didn’t turn around.

  “Emma, wait,” Elena called. “Please…” I slowed and she caught up with me. “Where are you going? What about the film and the pizza? What about your birthday?”

  “Elena, how could you? How could you smile and talk with that man as if nothing happened? You know what he did, how I feel about him.”

  She shrugged, pulling her forehead into a dismissive frown. “Yes, you had an affair and he lied to you, but that was a long time ago, Emma. He seems to have forgotten it. Why can’t you? You are married now and this man is nothing to you. Why can’t you move on?”

  Move on. Forget it. Forget what happened because it should be irrelevant now. Guy might be here for the conference, but he would leave, he would go, he would move on. She made sense, although not a fragment of me wanted to admit it. Perhaps she saw something I couldn’t, something redeeming in him to which acrimony blinded me. She noted my hesitation and pushed her point.

  “And Emma, you are wrong; he has changed now I think. I like him, he’s really nice.”

  Nice. That’s one thing Guy could never be accused of – being nice.

  I hugged her longer than strictly necessary because I didn’t want her to think I harboured any bad feeling between us, and because I couldn’t find the words to tell her she was wrong without sour vitriol spilling from me like spikes. I let the car find the way back home, no pleasure left in driving Matthew’s present to me, and let myself in by the back door.

  Matthew found me in the kitchen some time later. “What are you doing?”

  I didn’t look around, my voice echoing in the metallic box. “Cleaning the oven.”

  “I can see that. Why?”

  I rinsed the cloth in the bowl next to me, the water hardly brown. “I haven’t cleaned it.” I scrubbed at imaginary grease. I heard him move until he stood just behind me. I didn’t turn around.

  “We haven’t used it since Christmas; what’s going on?”

  I dipped the cloth in the bowl again rather than answer, and my hands stung. He took the cloth from me, pulling me to my feet where I couldn’t avoid him, and inspected my hands. “Sweetheart, your hands are raw. Tell me, what’s wrong?”

  I tried to pull my hands away, but he held on to them. I knew I would have to tell him and I had spent the afternoon on my knees doing pointless jobs because I didn’t know how. Despite everything Elena said I couldn’t believe that Guy had turned up on some random whim to kill time. And he wanted to see the library – he had specifically mentioned the library. Matthew waited.

  I met his eyes. “He’s here,” I said flatly. I didn’t need to say any more because across his face flashed instant understanding and something else soon concealed – anger? His fingers lingered for an instant over my wedding ring.

  “I’ll get something for your hands,” he said.

  Had it not registered? “Matthew, Guy’s here; I met him. He’s up to something. I don’t trust him.”

  “He can’t hurt you, Emma.”

  “He wants to see the library and you know what that means?” I tried to hide the rising note of fear. “What if he finds the journal, Matthew? What if he finds you?”

  “Emma, he cannot hurt us.” This time, he placed his palms either side of my face, willing me to believe him. “You are not alone any more and together we are stronger than anything he can throw at us. There’s no reason to believe he will find the journal and anything in it that can lead him to me.” He raised his head, listening. “Now, the family have planned a birthday party for you. Do you want them to know about Guy? We can tell them together if it’s easier.” I could hear voices now. I shook my head adamantly. This was my problem – our problem.

  “OK,” he breathed, “then now’s the time to act surprised. Ready?”

  CHAPTER

  23

  Secret Smile

  Quick-acting, like poison, he drew a mantle over my happiness so that every moment became tainted. I felt myself grey despite Matthew’s attempts to maintain normality and, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t persuade myself that Guy posed no threat.

  In contrast, Ellie blossomed with the burgeoning summer, her honey hair brightening, and each step lighter than the last until she almost seemed to
float with suppressed joy. She found me in the nascent orchard several days after my birthday, and she was hardly discernible from the sky because of the waves of pale blue that emanated from her.

  “Hi. Matthew said I’d find you here.” She threw herself into the lengthening grass and stretched in the dappled sun. “Mmm, I look forward all year to this weather – isn’t it perfect?”

  I put my book down and waited, in no hurry to disturb the peace I found there. She cast a look from beneath long lashes. “Emma, can I talk to you about something?”

  “Of course you can.”

  “Sure, thanks, uh…” She smiled coyly.

  “Who is he, Ellie?”

  She laughed, high-pitched like a young girl, kicking her legs. “Is it that obvious? Mom hasn’t noticed yet and I’ve been dropping hints like crazy.” She rolled onto her stomach and plucked a strand of grass, sucking sweet liquid from its stem. “I’ve been seeing him for several weeks and we’re sort of serious already.”

  “That’s wonderful, but several weeks?”

  “It’s nearer a month. You know what it’s like when you meet someone and it feels right? C’mon, I know you do. I remember how Matthew was when he met you; he couldn’t hide it.” Well now, she had a point. “Anyway, he’d hurt his back. It’s lucky I was on call in the med centre at the time otherwise we’d never have met. He asked me on a date and I’ve seen him most days since then. He makes me feel special, Emma, as if I’m the only one that really matters. I know you’ll like him. I kept it quiet until now but what I’d like – what I really want – is to bring him home to meet the family, except… I don’t know how Matthew’ll take it.”

  “He’ll be as delighted as I am.”

  “You reckon? He’s the one I’m most worried about. Do you really think he’ll be OK about it?”

  “Why shouldn’t he be?”

  She selected another stem, sucked it dry, and spat out the end. Turning over onto her back, she spread her fingers to the sky. “It was different with you; you were his choice. What happens if he doesn’t like mine? It’s not as if we’re a normal family or anything, and I know I have to be careful. Mom said… Mom says that it was tough being accepted by the family at first. Matthew wasn’t easy to persuade and I don’t want him to make it hard for us.”

  “You know he doesn’t take your welfare lightly, Ellie. He wants you to be happy and he won’t make things difficult for you.”

  Her forehead crinkled. “Yeah, but you don’t know that, Emma.”

  “But I know him. If things weren’t easy for Jeannie it’s likely there was a reason, even if it’s not obvious. Do you want me to broach the subject with him?”

  She suddenly smiled and sat up. “Would you?”

  “Of course I will. I can’t have my step-great-granddaughter pining now, can I?” I picked up my book and stood. “So, when do we get to meet him?”

  She threw a handful of grass in my direction. “When you’ve kept your part of the bargain,” she laughed.

  I could hardly keep it to myself and her happiness was infectious. By the time I found Matthew in the study, I fairly burst with the news. He had replaced the handsome bronze stallion with the lantern clock and now stood back from the mantelpiece, assessing it. I wrapped my arms around his middle and he smiled down at me.

  “Hello, what’s brought out the sunshine?” He cocked his head, listening to the regular tck, tck of the clock.

  “Why did you make it difficult for Dan and Jeannie when they met?”

  He had been about to adjust the clock, but stopped, one hand still resting on the brass dome. “What makes you think I made it difficult for them?”

  “Ellie said that’s what Jeannie told her.”

  “Oh.” He took the finest sliver of wood – a mere splinter – and eased it under one gold-balled foot and listened again. He seemed satisfied by the beat. “Jeannie,” he stated. “Well, yes, I had reservations, it’s true. I was concerned about her stability and therefore her reliability. We didn’t need any more loose cannons after Monica. I didn’t make it difficult for them, though, despite what she might choose to remember, but I wanted Dan to be sure before he committed himself to marriage. They were both young, and I asked him to consider waiting. Jeannie wasn’t happy, but then she didn’t know all the circumstances at the time. She tried to persuade him to leave the family and put him under pressure to accept the offer of a position in a firm in Washington he didn’t want to take. Anyway, it was his decision to stay and I didn’t try to sway him one way or the other, but she’s never fully accepted that.”

  “But she thinks you persuaded him?”

  “Coerced, more like. I didn’t – the opposite in fact – but I was wrong about her in one respect.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Even though she’s struggled with depression, she has never once placed the family in any danger. She adores Dan, and he loves her as much as he did when they first met. I find her inability to accept her children’s differences difficult, and I can’t say I’ve warmed to her, but she makes my grandson happy, and she’s loyal, so I can tolerate her resentment towards me, such as it is.” He slipped his arm around my shoulders. “You still haven’t told me what’s made you so happy. I doubt it’s Jeannie somehow.”

  I picked up the single, silver-framed photograph of the two of us from our wedding that I had found waiting on my desk when we returned from our honeymoon. It was Henry’s gift to us, and its presence spoke volumes. “No, it isn’t Jeannie; it’s Ellie. She’s in love.”

  “Is she indeed! Who’s this man who has managed to capture her heart?” Good point, we had been distracted before we reached that vital juncture.

  “I don’t know, but she wanted me to tell you because she wants you to meet him.”

  “Ah, it’s serious then, and she thought I might make things awkward for her, so she sent you in to soften me up, is that it?”

  “Something along those lines, I expect. I’m just so glad for her; she’s moved on.”

  “From me as her stumbling block, do you mean?”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Matthew, but – yes.”

  He was thoughtful for a moment as the new sound of the clock filled the study with its comforting regularity. He looked at the photograph of the pair of us, a moment of intense happiness captured. “There’s nothing I would like better than to see her settled,” he said quietly. “There is nothing better than the love her parents, or we, or her grandparents share.”

  “You old softy,” I teased.

  “Less of the ‘old’, if you will, madam,” he grinned, ably demonstrating his youthful vitality until I gasped and begged him to stop. He put me back on my feet. “All right then, tell Ellie – in whatever way you see fit as her confidante – that her suitor may call and pay his respects. Only, do remind her that she doesn’t need my approval, as I’m only her uncle.”

  I laughed, because he was trying to do an impersonation of a stuffy old man, and failing miserably. “If you go around like that he’s sure to suss you’re a fraud. Anyway, Ellie knows to be careful. Let’s just hope she’s equally sensible in all other respects.” Matthew pulled a face of quaint disapproval. “What’s that face for?”

  “At the risk of sounding old-fashioned, I’d be happier if she waited until she married.”

  “Some women don’t have that luxury, Matthew.” I hadn’t meant it to come out the way it did, but his regret was instantaneous.

  “I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to imply anything. It’s not as if you had any choice in the matter – Guy took that away from you.”

  “Yes, he did.” I studied my toes. “Anyway, Ellie has parents to confide in, so unless she asks, I’m keeping my opinion to myself.”

  “And by that token, you think I should do the same?” he asked. I said nothing. “In which case, this young man of hers had better watch his step lest he incur the wrath of the Lynes family,” he intoned theatrically, sweeping a length of my hair to form a copper mask in front o
f his face, over which his cobalt eyes gleamed.

  “Daft ha’p’orth,” I chided, laughing and repossessing my hair. “I’m going to let the poor girl know before she does herself a mischief.”

  Still feeling remarkably upbeat, later that day I received further good news. Hannah sounded contrite on the other end of the line. She had reconsidered her position and, although I could tell that she didn’t find it easy, she accepted defeat.

  “Great, Hannah, I’m really glad. Do you need any help getting it finished?”

  “No,” she said a little curtly, and broke off at a muffled sound in the background, like a voice on the radio, then corrected herself. “No, thanks, I’m good. I’ll add those references you suggested before, then I’m done.”

  “Right,” I said, both surprised and relieved. I didn’t think she had been that close to completion. “I’ll see you next week then.”

  “Sure,” she said, almost dismissively, and rang off before I could say goodbye.

  “That is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Matthew asked when I told him later as I slipped into bed beside him.

  “Yes, of course.” How could I tell him that niggling away inside was an unsubstantiated suspicion that it felt like a victory too easily won. What, anyway, did it matter? Hannah had jumped back on board and only time would tell if it were a sinking ship she sailed and who, if any, were the rats.

  It was as if Ellie’s news helped dispel the grudging gloom meeting Guy invoked. I made up for my abrupt departure on my birthday by inviting Elena over for a film fest, and we settled in front of the big screen borrowed from Dan. Installed in the drawing room and with popcorn at the ready, we excluded the world. Matias and Matthew took one look at the pile of DVDs stacked and waiting, and departed for the study. An occasional burst of laughter confirmed Matias was enjoying the contents of the wine cellar that otherwise lay untouched.

  I managed all of Brief Encounter, endured Now, Voyager, but drew a line at Love Story.