“Don’t you preach about a war you know nothing about! You didn’t live under its marring terror. You wouldn’t know.”
“Wouldn’t I? How do you think I lost these?” he said pummeling on his club legs. “Are you blind? Why haven’t you asked me about them? About this?” he said waving his walking stick in the air.
“Do you think I give a varmint’s testicles about your legs? I didn’t ask because I don’t care!”
Horrified, Christian stepped back.
“Don’t you see? They’re just legs! I could have lost you.” Gillian swallowed trying to catch her breath, drizzle now trickling down her face. “I know you were there, in Cuckfield, before the accident!” Christian looked bewildered. “You did know the war. That was unfair of me. I just meant you hadn’t experienced it through the eyes of a civilian. You were stationed at Ockenden Manor, at the old Jewish boys’ school in Cuckfield, weren’t you?”
“How did you know that?”
“I know from an article I read only this week. You met my sister Beaty.” Gillian could see Christian reeling in memories. Dates and images and accents and orders shot through the drizzly air around them, the garden filling with tension. “I was there, too, only I had left to rest my weary bones.” Gillian could feel a faulty beat to her heart and feared the organ would collapse altogether. “Beaty didn’t know it was you at the time. She had no idea about you. I’d never told anyone outside of my cousin Roderick and Shashi. Had I known you’d go and get yourself cut in half, I would never have left Tobermory.”
“Are you mad, woman? My injury had nothing to do with you. If you had stayed in Tobermory, I would have joined the air force anyway. It’s true you were incentive—maybe, just maybe I’d find you—but you’re not the reason I joined. It was as if my years of crop dusting led me to it. It was something I had to do. I could feel it.”
“Just like I could feel the Isle of Man was around the corner for me. Leaving you was something I had to do, but it wasn’t because I didn’t love you.”
“Was it really that simple?” Christian said.
“Can’t it be as simple as that? I was young. I wasn’t ready for this,” she motioned toward the garden, a perfect place to raise a family. “And there was something out there that I needed to do first. I hadn’t a clue what it was. I just knew it was there.” Tears began to swell in her eyes. “But if I had known…”
“Known what? You would have saved me?” he said, his brow now pinched together. “Just like the maharani’s flower? I know Jimson weed. Seen it a thousand times. Its poison can kill if you ingest too much. Did you know that?” he said crinkling his eyes. “But with just the right amount, it’s the perfect medicine. A drop more makes you delirious.” He sighed, “Oh that flower is beautiful—tempting. Best to admire it from a distance, though.”
His words were pointed, but they hadn’t a thing to do with Shashi. She knew that. “Is that the best you can do?” she huffed. “You could have been killed!”
“Would that have made a difference?” he asked smugly.
“How dare you ask such a question?”
“Then say it!” he shouted, the dewy air muffling his roar.
“Say what? What do you want to hear? That I crumbled into nothing after leaving you? That it took forever to build myself up from the rubble? That I haven’t loved another man or felt another man’s breath on my skin since you? That ever since I saw that walking stick against your lorry I have blamed myself for this horrible nightmare? I was so busy taking care of everyone else that I wasn’t there for you.”
“Is that what you were doing when you left Canada—taking care of me? Protecting me?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You didn’t want me to get hurt, did you?” he shouted.
“But I did hurt you. I left you, didn’t I?”
“But why? Why did you really leave?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’ve already explained,” she snipped.
“No. You haven’t!” he said as though he’d been doused in icy water. Silence snatched the air as he calmed himself, a truth working its way into his expression. “Gilly… it was Griffin, wasn’t it?” Gillian stepped back, nearly stumbling, feeling her chest crush inward. He knew. “Griffin touched you, didn’t he?” The air felt heavy around her—the kind of air that grounds you and won’t let you go. “I have to know. Please tell me.” Again he stared through her. “Did he hurt you?”
Gillian felt her lips shudder before she could answer, knowing she was cornered. It was the only part of her she could feel. “No.” She could see a rush of pain grip his eyes, understanding at once the meaning behind her answer. She had confirmed what he’d feared. “How did you know?” she asked.
She could see him swallow, struggling to speak. “Griffin told me,” he stepped toward her, lowering his head, “when I showed him this article.” Christian took a paper from his pocket. It had been torn and crumpled. He handed it to her. “When Griffin saw it was you, he whispered his wife’s name. And then I saw it in his eyes.”
“Saw what?” she asked.
“Fear. Shame.” That’s when he told me what he thought may have happened—the real reason you left. But he didn’t know for sure. He’d been confused for such a long time. He was seeing things that weren’t there, and you were so like his wife. That part was true… you were alike. He was terrified that he’d hurt you. I stood there watching him in his rocker as he crumpled into a ball sobbing—begging for your forgiveness. It was the first time I’d ever thought of him as frail, this big old man… frail. In that moment, I knew I had to come.” Gillian didn’t know what to think or how to feel. Her words left her. “So you don’t think you were there for me? God Gilly, wake up! Forget about my legs. You sacrificed us for me.” His eyes followed some birds in flight, a momentary reprieve before finally being drawn back to her. “You didn’t want me to find out what had happened because you knew how much Griffin meant to me. Isn’t that right?”
“I tried to tell you… that morning by Big Tub.”
Christian crinkled his forehead. “What are you talking about? I’d remember something like that.”
“When I brought up Griffin’s name, the day after it happened, you must have already been feeling sentimental. You were sitting on the rocks just beside the lighthouse, staring out on the bay when I arrived. I brought you my book, Gulliver’s Travels. I’d already finished it and wanted to give you something that brought me pleasure, something you could remember me by. Don’t you recall?”
Christian arched his brow, clearly remembering. “My God, Gilly, it was the day you left me. Are you telling me it happened the day before?”
She nodded. “I planned to tell you then.” Gillian sighed. “I’d hardly slept the night before. I was so upset, and Roderick wasn’t returning until the weekend. I’d nearly taken my auntie’s car in the middle of the night. I thought I could reach the university before he made his way back to Tobermory. Trouble was, I didn’t know how to drive.”
“So you stayed.”
“Only to find you. I was too afraid to go to your place in the event I might see Griffin. So I asked one of the fishermen if he’d seen you when I had wandered down to the docks. He said you’d been at the lighthouse. That was how I found you.”
“So why didn’t you tell me right away?”
“As I was trying to say… when I brought up Griffin’s name, you started in on how he’d helped you that very morning with your dock—that even his age would never turn him away from you. You compared him to your father before he’d left for Sudbury, to a time when your father meant everything to you. Griffin took you under his wing, you told me so. And it was obvious how close the two of you had grown over the years.” Gillian turned, inhaling the cool, misty air in the garden. “Had I told you, it would have been like losing your father all over again,” she said soberly. “He’d have disappointed you, just like your father did. You’d never have forgiven him.”
Silence. Oh, how she longed for peace. Gillian breathed slowly before continuing, “I couldn’t do that to you. There really wasn’t a choice at all. It was the first time I’d truly struggled to forgive someone, and truth is, it took me a long time. Years. Somewhere in my heart, I knew Griffin wasn’t evil, just a lonely old man. But I was afraid it might happen again, and I was afraid of what you’d think of me.” Gillian sighed. “I promise you, he didn’t hurt me. But he took something from me that day, leaving a pale, lonely moon shining down on me each night. I certainly wasn’t afraid of men, but it made me question my ability to judge wisely. I was eighteen years old. I thought I knew everything. Yet I couldn’t even see when an old man found me attractive. At eighteen, who would think a kind old troll would do something like that? Reels of images swirled around my mind. The times we’d been with Griffin, what used to be an innocent look of fondness, my mind would churn into something ugly. Of course I see it all quite differently now. But at the time, I wanted to run as far away from there as possible. I didn’t want to leave you.” Gillian rubbed her arms, feeling a shiver of cold through her body. The dismal, dank air felt like retribution for hurting him. “I knew I could never tell you the truth, and that’s why I wasn’t there when you lost your legs, when you needed me most.”
Christian snatched her arms, an unwavering countenance. “Don’t you see, you were with me that day. You were taking care of me. Lucky charms can come in unexpected forms. I had you with me all along—my pocket watch. Every time you touched it, every time you wrote a poem, every time you slipped it between two pages. Gilly,” he lifted her chin until their eyes met. “It wasn’t the day I lost my legs. It was the day my life was spared, and I’ve never once thought of myself as disabled.”
Spray from the sea brought in a chill as the hills were quietly pushing back the morning. Nothing stirred in the few neighboring cottages apart from the woodsy scent of smoke curling from the chimneys.
“I’m sorry,” Christian said. “I’d have given my legs away to protect you, but I didn’t know.” Gilly drew closer, reaching for him, virtue and tears welling in his eyes. “There was a reason I fell in love with you that summer. I saw in you everything that was special about my mom, only you took it all to another level. When you laughed, you made me feel free. When you committed yourself, you never gave up. When you were stubborn, you made me feel challenged. Most of all, when you looked at me, you made me feel wanted.” Tiny gasps fluttered in her throat as she held onto his words. “I know it was only a summer, but I’m here for a reason, the real reason,” he said. “I love you, Gilly. I’ve loved you since the day I met you. And if I could, I’d bottle three days ago at Cregneash and have it for the rest of my life.”
Chapter 21 - 1946
The hour when daylight dies
And lighted window through the dark,
A shining pathway throws
To welcome home a loved one,
Whose daily work is o’er.
When evening shadows fall
The fireside chair,
The loving word and smile
Wait for him the hour when daylight dies.
In the peace of a fireside glow
All troubles fade away,
He finds new strength and purpose
To face another day.
When the hours of work are past
His footsteps tread the shining path,
To meet again the love and smiles
That wait for him when daylight dies.
Chapter 21
1946
Christian glanced up at the sky noticing how it seamlessly stitched its way into the sea. He knew his words were soaking in while Gilly stood there quietly as though she was letting them find their place in her heart. She took his hand wittingly and led him up the walkway and into the warmth of the cottage where the cinders still burned low. Christian took off his cap and sport coat and set them on the back of a chair while Gilly added a log of peat to the fire then stood up, staring into the remains as though she was considering what might happen next.
After arousing the flame with some tongs, she set them down, not a word spoken as she turned to face him. The moment made Christian feel just a little bit like that boy again, the one who’d found his treasure on the beach with a quiet promise that no matter what, nothing could come between him and this amazing discovery. And as Gilly slipped her robe off her shoulders, he could hardly believe this was happening. Her hair kept its wave even in the dampness of the island, her eyes holding a familiar confidence though she was trembling like it was her first time. But it wasn’t. It was how she looked that night at Bear’s Rump when they’d made love for the first time. Only now something was different; her expression carried with it fourteen years of living, of independence, making her all the more intoxicating.
She reached behind her back and let loose the ribbon that had been tied on her nightgown then slipped it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the hearth. She stood naked with the glow of the fire behind her, her skin shimmery as the colors of the sunrise finally peered through the windows facing the sea. Christian swallowed hard not quite believing how divine she looked and thinking for a moment how his expression must have seemed juvenile. He was even sure she’d hear a pant escape him.
“I love you, Christian,” she said soberly. “I’ve always loved you.” How he longed to hear these words again. His chest swelled as he tried to curb the tears welling up in his eyes. He hadn’t asked for much in this world, and now he was given what he wanted most. The few feet between them was too great; he found himself reaching out to her then moving her way. Christian brought his hand to her cheek then traced her lips with his fingertip. The light softened the lines of age at the sides of her eyes and around her mouth that carried with them a thousand smiles sent from India.
“You’re exquisite, do you know that?” he whispered.
“I thought I was extraordinary,” she said as the sides of her mouth grew faintly wider. He returned her smile, delighting in her playfulness, then skimmed his fingers along the outline of her shoulders. He leaned down, grazing her skin with his mouth. The scent of dew and the saltiness from the air outside lingered on his lips.
If ever he’d wished his legs back, it was now so he could work his way down her body easily, supply. As though she’d sensed his wishes, Gilly brought her hand to her breast then began caressing it.
“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me right now?” Christian said.
“Well, if my intention isn’t obvious, I think we might just have a communication problem here.”
“Shall I order a therapist?” he said trying to suppress a grin while running his hands down her hips.
“I don’t think they have such a thing for these kinds of shenanigans.”
“Is that what this is now?”
Gilly didn’t answer. Instead she pulled back as he tried to kiss her. He could feel the playfulness stipple into something serious. It was that look, the one he’d been waiting for. The look that terrified him, that told him she was ready… ready to see him, ready to touch him. He wanted this. He needed her to accept him the way he was now. He brought her hands to his chest then began unbuttoning his shirt. As she took over, he watched her chest wave in measured, anticipating breaths. When a whimper sounded from her lips, he knew that he could never want a woman more than this treasure in front of him. He reached behind his neck and pulled his undershirt over his head, tossing it on the floor.
She gazed at him. Then she lovingly murmured, “You’re the exquisite one.”
With the uneasiness he felt as she undid his belt, letting his trousers drop to the floor, he wondered what this moment would look like, the moment she saw his prosthetic legs for the first time. Tin and wood, how could anyone not be shaken? But Gilly wasn’t just anyone. Her eyes studied them like a curious child might do, yet her face remained expressionless. She knelt down and began touching them, tapping them, almost listening for an echo as though memorizing their
weight and color, feeling the joints and leather straps. He wondered what she was thinking.
“These are ghastly things, you know,” she said, widening a smile and looking up at him from his shoes. He couldn’t have agreed more and appreciated her honesty. What he didn’t want to hear was how splendid or sensible or practical they were. She always knew the right thing to say, but even better—she meant it. “I’d rather see what’s underneath. I’d rather see you,” she said as she began to undo the straps. He clasped her shoulder gently, protectively.
“Are you sure, Gilly?”
“My darling, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Gillian led him to the settee and once he sat down, she unstrapped the leather that secured the prostheses to his upper thighs. When he was ready, she carefully removed them then set them on the floor. She could feel his vulnerability, trusting her not to cringe or pass judgment. What was left of his legs simply didn’t make her feel ill at ease.
Neither shock nor sorrow crept into her. It was a new version of the man she loved—just a new version, and she would get to uncovering the mystery about how he came to be when the time suited. But right now, all she wanted was to feel his body next to hers, swaddled in his arms. She caressed his thighs. They had healed well with a few small folds at the end, and it wasn’t the first time she’d seen such an injury—never in this way, mind you. She’d have her license revoked giving an examination like this!
Gillian lowered her lips to his thighs and peppered his skin with kisses. He was beautiful in every way. It was how he looked at her, the way he trusted her that made her feel even more special, even more desirable. The rest of the world disappeared as the sun was rising just for them. She looked into Christian’s eyes from where she knelt in front of him, her fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers. And as she removed them, Christian moved to the floor, taking her in his arms, then lying down on the area rug.
Gillian could feel the heat and flames snaking behind her and enjoyed how the light played on Christian’s skin. She reached back almost wanting to touch them as he moved on top of her.
The Particular Appeal of Gillian Pugsley Page 25
