REMEMBRANCE (17 page)

“Well?” Maria said.

“What is it you want me to say dear?”

“It’s all there Gran… from the first time I remember Tom at the ball… to the last entry… Look!”

Her gran stared at the young woman in front of her. She knew that her granddaughter was waiting for her to explain.

“It’s all there… Look, the last entry about… how we left the picnic party and the way we were torn apart… See!”

“What is it you want me to tell you?” her grandmother questioned quietly.

“I want you to tell me why the pages are blank after the last entry? Why is there nothing else written so that I may see what happens?”

Her grandmother threw her head back, laughing. Maria looked on wondering why her grandmother found her question so funny.

“Why Gran?”

“Oh Maria… My child, it is as I said… It has only just begun!”

“Only just begun… I don’t understand.”

“My dear child… The pages are blank, because you have not written them yet.”

“But how can I have not written them yet? It was nearly two hundred years ago, the book should be full—shouldn’t it?”

Maria was lost in thought; she sat for a few minutes trying to understand her grandmother’s words. Then she noted the look on her gran’s face.

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“What is there to disbelieve?” her gran asked with a mysterious smile on her face. “If you believe that what you say is true, then who am I to say otherwise?”

“But what about what you’ve just said about the pages being blank because I have not written them yet.”

“My dear Maria, I am just one old lady whose life is almost at an end. I would wish for anything to be true. If you truly believe that what has happened is happening then that is your choice, the path you take is guided by your decisions and yours alone.”

“If I understand you correctly, if I choose is to go back, then I will go back?”

Maria’s face was full of puzzlement and unanswered questions.

“I’ve seen a ghost,” Maria blurted out, “Here in the house, a young woman. I’ve heard laughter as well and voices.”

Unsure of how to respond to this revelation, Bertie thought carefully before she spoke. “This is an old house, Maria; a lot of things have happened within these walls. They say that natural stone can absorb images and ghosts are just a recording of what has already passed.” She laughed quietly. “Maybe that is what we all are? Maybe our whole lives have already been lived and we are just the images left behind within the old bricks…”

“You cannot really think that, Gran?” Maria sounded a little disconcerted.

Her old grey eyes twinkled slightly, “No, of course I don’t, dear; I was just reciting something I had heard once.” She smiled. “Memories are a precious gift, remembering them is only part of it.”

“Remembering? I remember them all so clearly now. Still, when I’m there in the past, it is as if this time never existed, and I have no memories of it.”

Bertie smiled kindly.

“Well, I’m sure that, if you try hard enough, you will remember, but it will only happen when you are ready. Now, if you will excuse me, it is Monday and Margaret and I are due at the Fosters soon.” With that, she vacated her seat and left the room.

*****

Margaret waited until Maria had returned to her room before she joined Bertie by the old desk in the drawing room.

“Is everything alright?” she asked hesitantly.

Bertie looked up, her tired eyes reflecting her inner joy.

“Yes Margaret, for I believe it has truly begun.”

“Oh, I am so glad,” she said excitedly, clapping her hands together.

“Now, all we can do is wait.”

“Do you think everything will go to plan?”

“Oh, I do hope so, Margaret. I have waited too long for it all to fail now.”

The diary lay open in front of Maria, as she sat at her dresser once again. Even though she had read each entry over and over again, she was still no closer to the truth. Why was she still here? Nothing had happened for several days and she was starting to think that it had all been a crazy dream. Her gran had spoken in riddles, giving her the impression that she knew more than she’d let on, but why?

Sleep had evaded her. Every time she closed her eyes, she willed herself to dream, but to no avail. It was driving her mad. God, maybe she did belong in an asylum, as nothing else seemed to make sense. She so desperately wanted to see Tom again—to see his smiling face, the sparkle in his beautiful eyes. She felt the burning heat as she recalled the memory of them, together beneath the water-soaked branches of the trees.

“Oh Tom,” she whispered his name.

Her eyes felt dry and she closed them for a second. She felt so tired! Upon opening them, she noticed that everything around her started to look distorted, and her head started pounding painfully. Everything began to fade, and she rubbed her eyes with her fingers, as if to sooth them. When she looked again, the room was exactly the same.

She stared at her image in the mirror. “Why is nothing happening?” She moved a little closer. “Damn, if I go back, I have to remember this life, but how?”

She tried to focus on the reflection of her eyes in the dresser mirror, concentrating on her face. “Remember,” she said quietly, and then louder: “M you have to remember! You must remember!” She shook her head slowly. “What am I doing? As if this is going to help!” She was sure that, any minute now, her gran would burst into her room, followed by the people in white coats. If her gran didn’t do it, after this, she might just go and knock on their door herself.

She smiled at the mental image of the doctors taking her to that special room as she said, “Here, take me, I’m a complete looney! I hear voices, I see ghosts.” If that didn’t get their attention she was sure the, “I travel back in time to the year 1814,” would do it.

She sighed heavily as she stretched her arms up over her head, to ease her aching back. Maybe if she went for a walk, it would clear her head. If she stepped back from the situation, she might be able to put it into better perspective. She stretched, moving her upper body from side to side, just as the piercing pain shot through her head once again, knocking her off the stool. She grasped her temples, her eyes screwed up tight against the sounds that whirled in her ears. As the pain began to subside, she looked up from where she lay on the floor. This time, though, the room had changed.

“Please, Miss, open the door!” Bella pleaded through the other side of the wood.

Maria spun round as the doorknob started to rattle.

“Miss, you have to eat something.”

Maria heard another voice talking to Bella; she leant against the panels and placed her ear against them to listen.

“I’m sorry, Sir John, she hasn’t opened the door for several days now. I am worried, Sir, she needs to eat something.”

“Thank you Bella, I will take it from here.”

She heard footsteps move away from the room, when suddenly, the loud banging against the door made her jump back sharply.

“Maria you open this door NOW!” Sir John bellowed.

She stayed silent.

“Miss Austin, do you hear me? This simply will not do. I will not tolerate such behaviour after all I have done for you! Open this door now!”

Although his words appeared stern and angry, she could hear the alarm in his voice; he sounded worried. Her hand reached out towards the brass knob, and she was just about to turn the small key in its centre, when she heard another voice that joined Sir John’s. They talked quietly as they moved away, down the landing.

The key turned with a click and she pulled the door slightly ajar, so that she could peer into the corridor. When she was certain that no one was around, she slipped from the room.

So it wasn’t a dream, she smiled. There had to be a reason for all of this. Thus, with the knowledge she now possessed, she could try to sort it out. I must see Tom, she thought as she stepped out onto the landing.

Suddenly, as if she had been hit by a bolt of lightning, she was thrown backwards into the room. She lay sprawled across the oak floor, her body convulsing as images flashed through her head, as if she was flicking quickly through a book, and everything she had known regarding her previous life was wiped from her mind. An incredible sensation of emotions flooded into her body. She was suddenly engulfed with an overwhelming feeling of loss that crushed down on her very being. It was so strong that she cried out in her torment.

“Sir John, Sir John,” people were crying, they sounded all muffled and their faces were all hazy.

“Call the physician.”

She felt as if her body was floating. This must be death, she thought, just before everything went black.

When she finally opened her eyes again, she had to squint against the brightness that was making them sting. She lifted an aching hand to ease the throb in her head.

“Ah, you’re awake. You gave us all a nasty scare there for a while.” Sir John’s voice was gentle with concern.

Maria tried to lift herself up, but her body felt heavy.

“Here, let me help you dear,” Sir John offered, coming to aid her by arranging the pillows behind her back.

“What happened?” she asked him; she couldn’t remember anything.

“Exhaustion, according to Dr Mackleston. He said that you are to rest today. Bella will be in shortly with some broth.”

She managed a weak smile of thanks just as Bella entered.

“Be off with you now, Sir John. I will take care of her,” she said to him soothingly.

Bella sat on the side of her bed and started to spoon-feed the warm watery broth into her mouth.

“I told them, but no, they would not listen. They should have broken down the door, that’s what I said,” she gave Maria a black-toothed smile. “I told them that no one can go that long without eating something.”

She wiped Maria’s dry lips with the napkin when she had finished.

“Gave them all a nasty scare, you did. Sir John was beside himself with worry.”

Bella rose from the bed and, slipping the small key from the door into her apron pocket, she said, “Just so that you don’t go locking yourself in again.” She smiled kindly, “Ring the bell, Miss, if you need anything.” With that, she left the room.

Maria slept on and off for most of the day. Her dreams turned into nightmares and she woke several times to find herself crying. She had an incredible ache in her heart every time she thought of Tom. She vaguely remembered the circumstances surrounding her illness, but everything was a little hazy. She just knew that she had lost Tom forever and that the realisation that she would never see him again was crushing her will to live.

“I’m sorry Miss,” Bella said one afternoon as she fluffed the pillows behind Maria’s head.

Maria looked at her confused, “What have you got to be sorry about, it’s not you that put me here. That was my own doing.”

Bella moved away slightly and fidgeted with the objects on the small bedside table. There was a pained expression on her face that Maria found unsettling. “What is it Bella?” she asked, placing a hand on her arm before she could move away.

Bella couldn’t even look at her.

“Bella?”

“I am so…so sorry Miss.”

Maria grew anxious, “Please Bella, whatever it is, you can tell me.”

“That’s just it Miss,” Bella looked up, “I don’t know if I should.”

Even in her exhausted state, Maria felt the frustration growing inside her. It was just her luck that she would be flaunted with a tit bit of information and then never get to hear the rest. She sighed, trying to contain her impatience in that one long exhaled breath. Bella hovered, reluctant to leave, the look of indecision on her face.

“Oh blow,” she finally said and came to sit on the side of the bed. “I am only going to tell you because I think that you have a right to know,” she said quietly. “You had a letter.”

“A letter?”

“From Mr Bradley. His man servant delivered it this morning…I’m so sorry Miss.”

“What…what Bella? What did it say?”

“That’s the point Miss. I don’t know. I had it in my hand and was going to bring it to you straight away, but your uncle happened upon me at the door. He was so angry Miss, as he recognised the seal straight away. He didn’t even open it Miss, he just threw it straight into the fire.”

Maria looked away. She wished she hadn’t known that Tom was trying to contact her, for it only added to the pain she already felt. “It probably only told me what I already knew,” she whispered. “It is of no consequence; it is for the best.”

“I’m so sorry, Miss.”

“No Bella, don’t be. We will talk of it no more.”

*****

Thomas leaned back against the oak’s trunk. It had grown dark, the sky was littered with tiny stars and a half moon reflected against the surface of the pool. He pulled his coat closer to him to ward off the chill that hung in the air.

She wasn’t coming! Although, deep down he knew that she wouldn’t, he still let himself hold on to the glimmer of hope that she might. He needed to see her; she was like a toxin under his skin, his fix—like a strong glass of brandy. He wanted—no, needed—to explain, to tell her how he felt that it was all a misunderstanding. He wanted to tell her that he was in love with her, not Miss Cartland.