Some Veil Did Fall

by Kirsty Ferry

  ‘York isn’t too far away,’ said Becky, ‘if you wanted to stay in touch; but I’m maybe not as straightforward as you think. A lot has happened in the last few years. I wouldn’t want you to feel obliged, just because of Lissy, you know.’

  Jon could sense her shutting down, drawing away from him almost. He took her face in his hands and shook his head. ‘No, Becky. I said no talking. I don’t just want to stay “in touch” either. I want to make it work – make this, this weird thing we have going on together work. I can’t just let you disappear after we’ve found a connection like this. We’ve lost too many years as it is.’

  Becky was silent. Her eyes scanned his face, seeming to search for some hidden meaning. She let out a tiny sigh. ‘Some of it is Seb,’ she said finally. ‘Some of it is his fault. He’s rude, he’s ignorant and he dented my confidence. It’s hard to think that you won’t do the same.’

  Jon shook his head. ‘I’m not Seb,’ he said. He touched her lips with his. And there were no more words.

  By mid-morning Jon was in the studio and Becky had requisitioned the laptop in the flat and was working steadily through her list of projects. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as the words flowed and she selected photographs to accompany her articles. She had already submitted a feature to Yorkshire Now magazine and was ready for a break when she realised with a shock that it was almost lunchtime. Jon hadn’t been up hounding her for coffee for at least two hours.

  She leaned back and stretched, looking around the little room. She felt content here; she hadn’t, in a long time, been able to write so efficiently and so easily. Seb again. She swore under her breath, trying to blot out the bad memories. With Jon it was so … so easy, she admitted to herself with some surprise. She even dared imagine a future where, as a freelancer, she came here every day to work. Jon would be downstairs, they would meet at breaks and at lunch, but still have their own space … yet there was so much to talk about, so much to discuss. Ella crept in, wrapping herself around Becky. He loves you very much.

  I would like to think he might eventually, Becky confessed. She stood up and walked over to the window. She looked down on the winding cobbled street and saw streams of people wandering through the town, jostling each other. It was very different to how it had been early this morning, she thought. She searched the crowds half-heartedly for the blonde Goth girl, but she feared she had lost her chance with that one now.

  She sighed and stepped away from the window. She headed towards the kitchen and clicked the kettle on. A swift forage through the cupboards produced some instant coffee and she made up two steaming mugs. Lissy would be contacting them soon, she guessed. They had time for a coffee first. And besides, she reluctantly admitted to herself, she actually missed him. And the last thing she wanted to do was ever feel that about a person; she never wanted to feel she was losing her independence. A brief scuffle with her conscience told her she was being rather ridiculous. As Jon had told her, he was no Seb.

  Becky headed down the narrow staircase into the studio. Jon was taking payment from a group of giggling girls and seemed to be enjoying the banter as much as they were. He looked up as the internal door swung open and smiled at her. Somehow, he managed to speed up the transaction and usher the girls out of the studio. They blew kisses and waved over their shoulders at him, the bell above the door clanging as they left. Jon quickly put the ‘closed’ sign up and locked the door behind them.

  ‘You shouldn’t do that, someone might want to come in!’ said Becky. ‘I can’t be responsible for you losing income just because I’m bringing you coffee.’

  ‘It’s having you in the studio that’s distracting, not the coffee,’ replied Jon.

  ‘Well, there goes my idea of working here,’ said Becky. ‘I was just getting comfortable up there. Shall I leave?’

  ‘No,’ said Jon, taking the mug from her. ‘I like the idea of you being up there. We’ve each got working space, but we’re not too far away from each other.’

  Becky ducked her head and smiled. ‘I was thinking the same thing earlier,’ she said. ‘Sort of, anyway.’

  ‘There you are, then. No reason to disappear.’ He indicated for her to take the seat behind the till. ‘I have no idea where my sister is, what time did she say?’

  ‘I don’t believe she did – at least not on her text,’ said Becky. ‘I’ll go up and check in a minute. We could walk up to St Mary’s to see if she’s there. Or at least I can if you need to work.’

  ‘I think it’s important enough for us to go there together, don’t you?’

  ‘I’d like you to be there,’ said Becky. ‘But I understand if—’

  Jon raised his hand to silence her. ‘I’m coming with you. I don’t need you to “understand” anything.’

  Becky bit her lip. She didn’t know when it would be a good time for him to ‘understand’ all about how she was now, years after he had known her before. And she didn’t really want to go into it at this point in time, not when they were so close to finding something out about Ella and Adam. She studied him as he drank his coffee and, between mouthfuls, told her all about the last group of girls. She nodded at, she hoped, appropriate moments. But she wasn’t listening to him, not really.

  ‘I was right, she hasn’t given me a time,’ said Becky.

  She had gone back upstairs to wash the mugs. Jon had followed her up a short while later, and now she was busy switching off the laptop and shuffling her work into a neat pile.

  ‘She’ll be up there at the church now, I guarantee it,’ Jon said. ‘It’ll be “oh, I told you I’d be here, you knew where you would find me”. Give her a call.’

  ‘I’ll text her,’ replied Becky. She pressed a few keys and then sent it. How are you doing? Want us there yet? She smiled at Jon. ‘Let’s see if she answers.’

  Almost immediately the phone vibrated. Been here aaaagggggeeeeesss. Come on! Becky read it and laughed. ‘She’s been there ages, apparently. We have to go.’

  ‘Told you so,’ said Jon. ‘Well, it’s lunchtime. I’m entitled to a break. And I fancy a walk. So I will come with you.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Becky. ‘I’m very pleased.’ She was pleased, she realised. She smiled shyly at Jon and suddenly he leaned forward. He took her chin in his hand and tilted her face towards him. He kissed her and it was really rather enjoyable, she realised.

  ‘Well, I’m very pleased you’re here,’ he said. ‘I’m hoping that you will stay forever. I’ve never felt like this before.’

  ‘See,’ said Becky, ‘this is when I realise that I know hardly anything about you. At least you know about Seb.’

  ‘There’s not much to tell about me,’ said Jon. ‘A few serious girlfriends, some not so serious girlfriends, and an ex-fiancée.’

  Becky made a little explosive noise. ‘An ex-fiancée?’ she said. ‘Is she likely to stalk you the same way as that idiot’s been stalking me?’ She felt unaccountably annoyed.

  ‘I hardly think so,’ said Jon. ‘We were about seven at the time. She was nice though. She was called Pippa … ouch!’

  ‘Pippa! For goodness sake.’ Becky made as if to slap him again and he ducked out of the way laughing.

  ‘No, you’ll be pleased to know there aren’t any psycho stalkers in my cupboard,’ he said. ‘It’s a bit unfortunate, I feel cheated somehow.’

  ‘Do you want one of my stalkers?’ asked Becky. ‘I have two you know.’

  ‘No, thanks. You should probably know that I did used to live with a girl though. She was called Fran. It lasted a few months and then she moved away. She got a job somewhere down south. I didn’t want to leave Whitby and she didn’t want to stay. We kept in touch and I tried to change her mind, but it all fizzled out. She was nice.’ There was a faraway look in his eyes and Becky couldn’t help it; she did the defensive thing.

  She pushed her hair beh
ind her ear, folded her arms tight and felt that annoying furrow deepen in her brow. ‘Hmm,’ she said.

  Jon’s attention returned to Becky and he took her hand, pulling it away from the tight little knot she had created with her arms. ‘Don’t worry. I’m well over her. Hopefully my next girl will like Whitby as much as I do and she’ll stay here with me quite happily.’

  He was smiling as he said it; smiling and looking right into her eyes, right into her soul. Something inside her twisted. There was an appealing little glimpse there of what might be, all things being equal. But she couldn’t allow herself to get her hopes up. She felt Ella bristling, fizzing almost with anger. Answer him! Tell him!

  Instead, Becky dropped her gaze and pulled her hand away. She busied herself straightening her pile of paperwork and finally looked back at him. ‘Ready?’ she asked. ‘For the church?’ She pasted a smile on her face, trying hard to look neutral, as if she hadn’t quite understood him.

  For a second, Jon looked a little confused. Then he obviously decided to let the subject drop and smiled back at her.

  ‘I guess so,’ he said. ‘Are you?’

  ‘I am.’

  ‘Then let’s go.’

  They headed up to St Mary’s together, weaving through the crowds. Jon had taken hold of Becky’s hand a few steps along the street and she hadn’t pulled away, which was good, he thought. It was still cold but at least the sun was out today. It would be lovely up on the cliffs, even with the winds blowing. Becky was quiet though; too quiet. He squeezed her hand and she looked up at him.

  ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘Nervous?’

  ‘A little,’ she said. ‘I think it’s because I’ve built it all up so much and this is where it kind of comes together.’ She frowned and waved vaguely in the direction of her ears. ‘Ella,’ she said. ‘Can’t get rid of her.’

  Jon nodded and drew her closer to him. She was tense; he could feel it in the way she held herself. He wasn’t really surprised. He didn’t have Ella to contend with, but he could sense Adam prowling about near him. It was as if the man was following them, two steps behind. Cautiously, he glanced down at his hands. He really didn’t want Adam taking him over here and now completely. Although, he thought ironically, if he did, it would mean that he and Becky could chat quite easily on the trek up to the church.

  It made a difference knowing what Adam actually looked like. And dammit, that was another thing. Hadn’t bloody Seb chased them out of Carrick Park before they could search for Adam’s portrait? Exasperated, Jon’s mind drifted back to the photograph; seeing Ella and Adam as they were caught unawares, was astonishing. Jon dealt in a visual medium and images meant more to him than words. Words were clearly Becky’s department. It was frustrating. They obviously fit so well together that he couldn’t understand her withdrawal in the flat, especially after they had eased into a relationship so readily. He cast a sidelong glance at Becky; she was silently watching everything that was going on around her. He knew why, and he had to admit if Ella was impressing upon her to that extent, Becky wasn’t fazed by it. It was probably best not to try and converse though, at least not until they had reached the church.

  They wound up the cliff path, moving into single file to squeeze past everyone. There was a small figure sitting on one of the table-like tombs clutching a pile of papers. The figure waved wildly as it saw the couple coming up the hill.

  Becky raised her hand and waved back. ‘She looks like she’s been busy,’ she said. She still felt edgy for some reason. Whatever had happened to Ella, had happened near here, she was fairly certain.

  Lissy jumped up from the tomb and ran towards them. ‘I’ve found out loads!’ she said. She waved a bundle of papers under their noses. ‘They were married. I found them in the records. Adam John Edward Carrick – and Miss Eleanor Catherine Dunbar. They were married in September 1865. Right here! Right here at this church. Becky, are you all right?’ She looked at Becky with some concern. ‘Last time you looked like that, you’d overdosed on vodka.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Becky said. She smiled wryly. ‘Just talk a little slower, will you?’

  ‘Oh dear!’ said Lissy. She reached out and touched Becky’s arm. ‘I remember what it was like when she got me.’

  ‘It’s not so bad,’ murmured Becky. ‘I’m getting used to it. I just hope she goes away properly soon. Anyway; you were saying?’

  ‘They got married here.’ She stood right in front of Becky and pointed earnestly at the church. ‘Here.’

  Becky tried not to laugh; poor Lissy. It wasn’t natural for her to be slow about anything, especially not speaking. The words just seemed to tumble out of her mouth and somehow string themselves together to make sentences. Well, if she missed anything, Jon would have to fill her in later. She concentrated on Lissy, watching as she continued her excited babblings.

  ‘They just disappear from the records after that though. No family, no children I can find. No death records. I’m wondering if they moved away. I would need to dig a lot deeper if they went abroad. I could look up the old newspapers of the time to see if they appeared in the social columns or anything, but obviously I can’t do that right away. I’ve done as much as I can so far.’

  Lissy looked at the clumps of paper. She leafed through them and pulled another one out. She studied it for a second and nodded. ‘This one is interesting.’ She passed it across to Becky so she could read it.

  Becky was aware that Jon had moved closer and she turned, a little startled to see how close he had actually come. She could feel his warm breath on her neck and, despite the situation and the completely inappropriate setting it did funny things to her insides. She passed the paper to him, hoping that by doing something more practical it would negate the funny feelings; it didn’t.

  ‘The Lydia we found, she is Adam’s sister,’ continued Lissy, talking more to Jon than to Becky.

  Lissy obviously thought the paper was enough for her to be going on with. That amused Becky to some degree as well.

  ‘Lydia married someone called Jacob. Now, from what I can gather, he was some sort of cousin. You look a few years down the line and Lydia is marked as the owner of Carrick Park, although she didn’t actually live there a lot of the time. I haven’t worked out what happened to Jacob yet. I need more time for that. Anyway, Lydia and Jacob had a daughter who was born in 1866. They married on New Year’s Day 1866. So it must have been a very quick conception.’ She winked broadly. ‘Or maybe it was a very quick marriage. The baby was christened here in September 1866, though, so it makes you wonder. You’ll remember my epic GCSE fail in maths, Becky,’ said Lissy, turning to her and grinning, ‘but I can add nine or ten months onto a marriage date.’

  ‘What did they call the girl?’ asked Becky.

  ‘This is where it is lovely,’ replied Lissy. ‘They called her Elizabeth Catherine.’ She smiled broadly and pointed to herself. ‘Elizabeth. Isn’t that marvellous? Only she has the “z” and I have a sort of foreign version.’

  ‘And I bet they called her Ella for short,’ said Becky. ‘Ugh. It’s not helping me a great deal.’

  ‘It’s all written down,’ said Lissy, pointing wildly at the paperwork again.

  Becky raised her hand and closed her eyes. ‘I know. Thanks.’ She tried to comprehend all the information. Eventually, she opened her eyes again and turned to Jon. ‘Where the hell did Ella and Adam go?’ she asked him. ‘Where did we go?’

  She felt a tug on her sleeve. Lissy was looking at her eagerly ‘Oh! I forgot to say, there were no more children for Lydia and Jacob, if that helps. So Carrick Park was never inherited by any of their descendants. Baby Elizabeth got another property, though, and Carrick Park was sold.’

  ‘That’s why it’s a hotel now then,’ said Becky. ‘Perhaps there were too many bad memories there, so they got rid of it.’ She sat down on the tomb that Lissy had
recently vacated, facing Jon and his sister. She pushed her hands into her pockets and let her gaze drift across to the sea. She could almost swear the seagulls were the same ones that were there the other day. ‘I think I’d like to take a little walk,’ she said.

  Jon came closer to her and laid his hand on her shoulder. She took hold of it and squeezed it, answering the unasked question. ‘I’ll be fine,’ she said. ‘I just need to be on my own for a bit.’

  ‘And would you like a coffee?’ asked Jon.

  She stared at him. The man was obsessed by bloody coffee! Yet he obviously thought he was being solicitous.

  Becky burst out laughing. She didn’t care if it sounded really loud and really incongruous in the churchyard. ‘Jon, you want a coffee, don’t you?’

  ‘I’d rather have a cigarette at this moment in time,’ admitted Jon, ‘but I’m being good. It just all feels a bit strange, you know?’

  ‘They are real now, aren’t they?’ she replied. ‘And we know what they looked like and we know about his sister, and we have her writing slope for whatever reason. Someone must have been clearing out someone’s possessions for it to end up in an antiques shop. That’s sadder than anything.’

  ‘I’ll get us that coffee,’ he said. He looked longingly at the hill down towards the town. ‘Then I’ll come back up, okay?’

  ‘No problem. Jon, do me a favour and take Lissy with you?’ asked Becky. ‘I don’t think I can cope with any more facts at the minute. She’s done brilliantly, though, hasn’t she?’

  ‘That’s my little sister for you,’ he replied. As if he had conjured her up by mentioning her, Lissy came hurrying up to him. She had been rummaging through the papers again and had obviously found what she wanted.

  ‘Can I just show you this before you go?’ she asked. ‘I knew I had something else. It’s good to have friends in high places, you know, in galleries and the like, yet my brother criticises my unusual methods. But, thank God as well for email.’ She thrust something else into Becky’s hand. Becky didn’t bother listening to the explanation. She just read the document.