by I Beacham
When Kiernan finished locking up and putting all the sitting room lights out, she popped her head around Ele’s bedroom door. She was already in bed and fast asleep with exhaustion. Kiernan crept up to the bed, whispered, “Good night,” and switched the side light off.
When she’d climbed into bed earlier, it had welcomed her with its warmth, and she had eventually fallen into a happy state of oblivion. Now the bed felt cold and lonely, and she struggled to find sleep. Kiernan’s mind was wide-awake and alert. She couldn’t stop thinking of everything that had happened to Ele this afternoon. Now she understood why her calls had gone unanswered.
She mentally kicked herself. Intuition had told her something was wrong. If only she had driven past Ele’s—dropped in on her way home to make sure all was okay. It would have been a detour, but not a huge one. Ele could have been rescued hours ago. But Kiernan had been exhausted, and desperate for sleep. Now her guilt gave way to other thoughts. They reminded her that Ele was in the room next to hers. So close, and yet so far. She longed to just hold her.
Kiernan pulled the covers over her head and told herself to shut up and go to sleep. But it felt good feeling this way about another human being. It had been too long.
Chapter Sixteen
Ele arose late, and as she walked into the sitting room, she heard Kiernan moving around in the galley kitchen. “Good morning,” she said as she peeped around the door and was welcomed by a genuine smile. “You look very industrious.”
“Tea and some breakfast?” Kiernan asked, holding up a cup.
Ele dipped her head. She hadn’t eaten since yesterday lunchtime and was starving. She couldn’t hide the joy on her face when Kier planted a load of toast on the table in front of her as “something to be going on with.” She thought briefly of grace and good manners and not appearing greedy, but she ignored the lot and ate ravenously. Never had tea and toast tasted so good.
“How do you feel? Did you sleep okay?”
Ele loved Kiernan’s show of concern. “I slept well. I wasn’t sure I would. Yesterday was horrible. But I feel better now.” She looked across at Kiernan. “Thank you for all of this.” She wasn’t referring to breakfast. It was her kindness, her support—the way she made her feel again. Kier shrugged.
Sharing breakfast together, Kier then listened as she recounted what she had learned at the church earlier.
“John Stafford is buried there, but not his wife. I couldn’t find any record of her. Given that her family took her home when she was ill, I suppose she’s buried somewhere there. I now have no idea what it is the builders have disturbed or what to do next, Kier. We’re lost.”
“No. We’re just not found,” Kier said.
“You’re so positive.”
“You’re too negative.”
Kier smiled. “You’d be too after yesterday.”
Kier nodded. “Could they have had a child?”
Ele gave it a quick thought and then dismissed it. “Dot would have said. That wouldn’t have been hidden from her mother, would it,” she added, not as a question.
“I know one thing, Ele, and you’re not going to like it. We have to go back to the house today to find Feathers. If he’s outside, he’s going to be frozen.”
Ele shivered. Featherstone was very much on her mind, and she was worried. She was sure he had not been in the house when she ran out, which meant he was still outside. He was not a night cat and he didn’t do hunting in extreme conditions. He liked luxury and warmth. He wouldn’t understand what was going on. Neither did she. However, as much as she loved him, the thought of returning home filled her with dread. At least Kier would be with her, and the wind had died down. She agreed, and resumed eating lethargically, her initial joie de vivre dampened.
“What’s this?” she asked, holding yellow stuff on her fork.
“It’s an omelet,” Kiernan answered as she sipped tea from a bone china cup with pretty flowers on it.
“No, it isn’t.” Ele was dismissive. She had eaten many omelets in her life, and this was not of that family.
Kier placed her cup in its matching saucer and glanced at her, a mild look of desperation in her eyes. “Is it edible?”
“Well, yes…” Ele had already eaten half of the mystery substance. She felt guilty for mentioning it. “I just wondered if it was something wonderfully Irish that I’ve not been introduced to before.”
“Hmm, did I mention I’m not gifted in the kitchen?” Kiernan looked at Ele apologetically. “Why don’t you just go ahead and pretend that’s what it is, an Irish omelet? I can promise you that everything in, whatever it is, is fresh.” There was a wonderful lilt of gentle humor in Kiernan’s voice, something Ele adored.
“The toast is marvelous,” she said enthusiastically.
Kiernan gave a crooked grin and then studied the food in question on her own plate. She asked, “Are you sure this isn’t an omelet?”
Ele shook her head, unable to hide her own amusement.
“I wonder what I’ve been eating all these years, Ele.”
Soon after breakfast, they left for Ele’s home.
Kiernan drove up to the front of the house, and already there was a light dusting of snow on the ground. It was always the same year after year; the snow seemed to sneak in during the quiet of the night, often unexpected.
As she parked the car close to Ele’s front door, she heard Ele sigh.
“Oh, God.” Ele had grown reticent as they’d driven closer to her house.
Kiernan wanted to chase her fears away, but wasn’t sure how to. “Be brave. It’ll be okay, and I’m here with you.”
“And what will you do if Stafford materializes?” Ele said. Kiernan could see Ele didn’t have the right amount of faith in her.
“I’ll shout ‘Boo.’ That’ll do it.” She leaned toward Ele. “I can sort this all out if you want. You can just sit in the car.”
Ele was already reaching for the door handle. “No. I need to get some overnight things and a change of clothing, and I must find Feathers. I know all the little places where he sleeps or hides. I just hope he’s inside.” She was worried, and it showed. “What if he’s run off, Kier?”
Kiernan put her hand on Ele’s and tweaked it. “We’ll find him. He won’t have gone far, and besides, I seem to remember he likes the ghost.”
“Not after yesterday, he won’t.” Ele’s face was ashen.
Kiernan didn’t argue. She wanted to allay Ele’s fears, but it wasn’t working. Ele slowly, warily, climbed out of the car, but not before having a good look around her. Kiernan caught her anxiety like a contagion. She didn’t like what Ele told her of yesterday, and for the first time, she sensed danger. Whether they could be in danger from a ghost remained to be seen. Theoretically, a ghost might not be a physical threat, but it could do a lot of damage to a person’s mental composure. Kiernan was not keen to test theories.
She heard Ele calling Feathers inside the house, a continuous activity that led her to believe he was nowhere therein. Kiernan hopped out of the car and started calling too. Not that he was likely to come to her, but she would try. She looked toward the large greenhouse. In daylight, she could now understand how she mistook several old wooden seed boxes, a bag of opened compost, and a pile of terracotta pots with a cat perched on top for a shadowed man with frightening eyes. She scoffed at her foolishness. Ele must think her an idiot.
Stuffing her hands inside her jacket pocket, she shivered from the cold as she walked past the greenhouse. Beyond, she could see a small garden shed. The freshly fallen snow was virgin and nothing had walked across it in several hours. Regardless, she called out to Feathers and was about to return to the front of the house when she heard a small noise. She stopped and looked toward the shed; she called again, but the noise did not repeat.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she approached the shed with caution and pulled the thin wooden door open, hearing it creak as she peered into the darkness. It smelled musty and damp. She called Feathers
again and heard a muffled meow, but she saw no movement. Now she bent and this time called his name attempting to put affection behind it. The ploy worked, and an empty potato sack moved as the cat appeared from beneath it.
He looked cold and vulnerable, his fur all puffed out, as he crept toward her. This was not a cat used to staying out all night. He couldn’t understand why Ele wasn’t there. Kiernan suffered a compassionate attack. She didn’t think twice as she reached out and scooped him into her arms. He pushed himself close to her and began purring. She felt his cold fur against her face and the iciness of his front paws, now supported in her one hand.
“Poor Feathers,” she said with surprised genuine affection. Could they be friends? “So, you’re delighted to see me, eh?” The purr increased. “Never mind, my new friend. I’m delighted, too. I was worried about you.” She walked back around the front and into the house. As she did so, she caught Ele coming down the stairs.
“Oh, Feathers…” Ele gushed, reaching out to be reunited with him.
Kiernan thought how lucky the cat was to be adored so much. “I’m impressed,” she said.
“Don’t be too overwhelmed,” Ele said as she rubbed Feather’s head. “This is only because I am the bringer of food, the Goddess of the Tin Opener. I am but the provider of love, affection, and fish.”
It might have been true, but Kiernan noticed how Featherstone banished thoughts of food in favor of a hug. She was glad she had reunited them. “Should we bring him back with us?” Since Ele was going to stay at her place at least another night, it only seemed polite to ask.
“Hell, no.” Ele put him down and moved into the kitchen to feed him. “He’ll be happier here—inside—and as long as I…” She looked at Kiernan with eyes that said we. “…come over and feed him, he’ll be okay.”
Controlled relief surged through Kiernan. The unusual, temporary peace pact between Feathers and her was one thing. Welcoming him into her home was another. “I bet now you wished you had a cat flap.”
Ele looked at Kiernan deadpan. “Absolutely not,” she replied indignantly. “When I was growing up, we had one. You’d wake in the middle of the night to a crunching sound, and in the morning, you’d stand on something that had been disemboweled. I can’t begin to tell you how disgusting that is.”
“Any messages?” Kiernan changed the subject.
“Only yours. No others.” Ele looked uncomfortable. “I think we should leave now.”
Something has to change, Kiernan thought. Ele shouldn’t be frightened out of her own home, and certainly not by a ghost who was old enough to know better.
Chapter Seventeen
Ele sat on the floor in Kier’s sitting room with her back against a cream covered couch, a glass of red wine in her hand while she listened to a rock band called Regurgitation. Music hammered her eardrums, and she could feel its vibration in the furniture around her. Somewhere to her right, she could hear glass tinkling with the sound waves. She was thankful that Kier’s neighbors below were holidaying in South Africa. Kier was introducing her to this new band as a way to help her forget her frightening experience back home. Forget? After this album, she might never have another cogent thought again.
Seated beside her, Kier was oblivious to everything, her head tilted back and supported on the couch seat, eyes shut listening to every inharmonious cord. Every now and then, Kier moved a hand in the air as if she was conducting the music and she hummed out of tune. Ele laughed, not that Kier could hear her. Weren’t the Irish all supposed to be natural musicians? It seemed nature had overlooked Kier.
She was facing the floor to ceiling glass pane, and everything inside the room was reflected back with clarity against the night darkness. Kier shared that it was one of her favorite places and that she had put a couch here so she could relax and watch the hamlet light up at night. Kier said it was peaceful, and Ele could only agree. She felt a sense of total serenity regardless of what Regurgitation was doing to her hearing system.
She loved music, and a memory reminded her that after Beth had died, she’d been unable to listen to it. That had been a loss, too. But music evoked emotion, and passion. She’d been unable to cope with it. Her grief, too raw.
She jolted as the music came to an abrupt halt and everything went tomb quiet. “Wow,” she breathed out, breaking the stillness. Her ears fizzed. “I can’t hear anything, and I think my brain’s exploded.”
“Yeah, great, isn’t it?” Kier’s rich, deep tones laced with infectious excitement pushed the silence away. She had opened her eyes and was looking at Ele in the reflection.
“Yeah.” Ele felt young again, like a kid staying overnight at a best school friend’s house. How many times had she done this in her teen years? Countless, she thought. They remained quiet for a minute before Ele added, “I should play this music at home. It might persuade John to stop haunting.”
Kier sat up and leaned in close toward her. “You know, we could try that.” Ele saw the playful twinkle in her eyes and felt her breath on her cheek. She caught herself looking at Kier’s lips. Kier had such an effect on her.
She held her breath and wasn’t sure if she was relieved or saddened when Kier resumed her previous position. Ele wondered if her face was red. She felt hot, but her reflection in the window gave nothing away. If it was, she hoped Kier would think it was the wine.
“I like being with you, Ele.”
The words shocked her. Maybe she hadn’t got away with it. Ele sensed the moment turning intimate, private. It was the way Kier spoke, the softness in her voice. “I like being with you, too,” she answered. It was the truth. That day, before Stafford had tried to send her to an early grave, she’d done nothing but think of Kier, her thoughts fixated. She’d never felt so conflicted. To think such things in the house that she and Beth had shared.
“Ele, about that kiss.”
Now she knew she hadn’t got away with it. Kiernan must have seen her react. She heard the tension in Kier’s voice, brought about by that nervous edging forward, in a new relationship, to see if the other feels the same way.
Ele’s previous state of euphoria slid away fast and was replaced by nerves, and an unusual position of defensiveness. She wasn’t prepared for this. Why did Kier have to ruin an otherwise perfect evening? “Yes, I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” Sometimes she wished she hadn’t. Other times, she was glad she had.
“I liked that you did.” Yes. Ele could hear the intimacy in Kier’s voice.
Oh? Her panic escalated. She had started a chain reaction with that kiss, and now she wanted it to stop. She floundered, not knowing what to say. She couldn’t look at Kier.
“Did you like it?” Kier sounded patient. Caring. Gentle.
“Yes, I did.” Her response was out before she could stop it.
“I wish you didn’t look so disappointed when you said that.” Kier spoke lightheartedly, but Ele could see her reflection. She looked disheartened.
“I don’t mean to.” She needed to explain. “I was so worried about you. I didn’t think.”
“You acted on impulse.”
Ele hated hearing the doubt in Kier’s voice. Now she looked at her. “Yes, I did.” It sounded a terrible answer, but she didn’t want to lead Kier on. She didn’t want to make her think she was ready for any relationship when she herself didn’t know. She was confused. If only she had more time. “But I liked it too,” she repeated.
“But something’s wrong.” Kier wasn’t asking, she was stating the obvious. Ele couldn’t answer.
“Are we friends, Ele?”
Ele turned to Kier and looked her straight in the face. At last, something she did know the answer to. “Of course we are! How could you ever doubt that, Kier? I’ve only known you a short while, but you’ve become so dear to me, so valuable. Don’t ever doubt that.”
“I don’t.” Kier spoke with heartfelt meaning. “But you must know how I feel about you. It’s taken me by surprise too. I only know that I want someth
ing more with you.” Kier reached for Ele’s hands. “The question is, do you want more?”
Kier’s eyes searched hers. She knew they were looking for answers, but the longer she took to reply, the more she saw her disillusion build. It looked like a weight was bearing down on Kier, as if something fragile might break. Ele longed to chase that shadow away. She didn’t want to hurt Kier. Maybe if she was honest, if she tried to explain the battle that was going on inside her?
“It’s difficult for me, Kier. I know it’s been a long time since Beth died, but I feel so divided. My emotions are all over the place. Beth was unique; we shared such a deep love. We were so right for each other, from the start.” Ele thought back to how they had met at school when they were only eleven. The friendship had been instant. The love had grown later. “I’m just not sure I can do this, and I don’t want to hurt you—lead you on—if I can’t. Maybe Beth has spoilt me for anyone else.”
“I understand, Ele. I do. That kind of deep love can’t be swept aside as if it never happened. But I know this. You need to move on, whether with me, or someone else. The guilt and the fear of that step is natural, even after all these years, but you mustn’t live your life in memories. You’re too beautiful, too wonderful for that. You deserve all that life can give you. I think Beth would want that.” Kier let her hands go. Ele hated it.
“I’m not rushing you, Ele. I just wanted you to know how I feel—that I like you very much—that I would like something more.”
It was comparable to a physical blow for Ele when Kier raised herself off the ground and chose to sit on the couch, leaving her alone on the floor. The distance felt huge and she wondered what damage she had just caused. Kier looked crestfallen. Ele blamed herself. She was acting badly. She knew she had hurt Kier. It was a while before the silence broke.
