(#Twenty-nine: Glass House) Wuthering Nights by Summer Day: Inspired by Wuthering Heights

Chapter Twenty-nine    

Glass House

    In retrospect, he had tried to show enthusiasm for the marriage. 

     As they grew apart, Annabelle was unaware they’d never really been together, except as friends and briefly, lovers. If his wife had ever asked, he would have told her everything. Deep down, he knew the truth; Annabelle didn’t want to know.

    Work was always his excuse.

    The office needed him - the businesses. The family fortune required overseeing now that Harrison had drunk himself into despair and lost most of the shares that had remained in his name. Harrison sold the rest to Heath’s company for a third of what they were worth. Of this recent business deal, he was not ashamed. He knew Kate, whom he hadn’t spoken to for months, would be angry at him for stooping to Harrison’s level.

     The adoption of Hinton had not brought the family any closer together and Heath made more excuses to stay out of the house. Heath’s career was escalating and he was expanding the company overseas, preparing to leave London for Asia for three months.

   ‘I’m asking you not to go,’ Annabelle said. ‘It’s too soon with the baby.’

   ‘Well Annabelle, you knew where this was going when you married me. I can’t abandon my career; it’s important.’

   ‘For what? You’ve earned more money than we could ever use and you have mine. You’ve spent half your life trying to get back at Harrison, now you’ve succeeded. You own his house…his companies...’

   ‘Co-own. Remember it’s mortgaged.’

   ‘The same thing, you will own it. And my brother, you won’t even speak to Hunt.’

   ‘It is an understatement to say we didn’t get along at school…’

   ‘But we are adults now, Heath; I just want you to forget…’

    Annabelle put her hands on her husband’s face. Normally her blood did not appeal to him overly, but he hadn’t taken his vitamins and was low on plasma. He pushed her hand away, afraid the yearning to feed and munch on the cool blue vein in her wrist would repel her. If only he could share with her his longings, his issues, himself. Perhaps the marriage would have had a chance. But, let’s face it, she wasn’t Kate. He knew Annabelle would run from him when she discovered the truth. He was sure of it.  

    Annabelle, for her part, suspected Heath was not normal from the earliest days of their marriage. She thought he might need therapy but he brushed her away when she tried to talk to him about his mood swings, as she called them. He’d always been cold towards her, Annabelle realized in retrospect. She had thought Hinton and the baby would bring them together but after he’d satisfied himself that the foetus would be “normal” (going so far as to take her to a strange specialist in Harley Street when she seemed overly fond of lamb chops), Heath had distanced himself from her once again. 

     Every person was worthy of love. It seemed to Annabelle that Heath had received more from the marriage than she had. Annabelle only expected her husband to love her, yet he made her feel unworthy. Sometimes he looked at her as if she was air and Belle caught him looking at Kate’s old photographs more than once. Annabelle didn’t even want to think about her sister-in-law. She was sure it was their love that had wrecked her marriage. On other occasions she realised that Heath was the sort of man who would have found it hard to make any marriage work.

     Belle regretted the loss of her only female friend.  She missed being close to her sister-in-law. Months earlier, Kate had pleaded with Annabelle not to marry Heath and Annabelle hated to admit Kate was right.

    ‘He only wants to hurt you…he wants to hurt me.’

    ‘How can you say that, Kate? Why do you think you are the only person worthy of love?’ Annabelle asked.

   ‘It’s not like that,’ Kate had replied.

   ‘Not like what?’

    ‘Heath and I…we grew up together…I know him. He’s not like other people, he’s…different…’ Annabelle misunderstood her intentions almost entirely.

    ‘He still loves you…doesn’t he?’

    ‘I…I don’t think Heath’s capable of love anymore…he…uses women and he’s not above using you for his own purposes,’ Kate had warned her.

   ‘What purposes? He’s already got his own money. Yes, our family is wealthy but so is Heath…’

  ‘It’s not like that. He wants ownership, power. First it was Harrison, now it’s Edmund… once he marries you, he controls you. He wants to hurt me…promised me he’d get me back, for marrying Edmund…’

   ‘Why did you marry my brother, Kate? I’ve always wondered…’

   ‘Because… I loved him.’

   ‘Because you loved him or because you needed him? Heath wasn’t there and my brother was! Well now I need someone Kate and you can’t stop me from being with him…’

   ‘I’m trying to warn you… he will make your life very difficult Annabelle.’

   Annabelle had packed her suitcase.

   ‘Promise me you’ll give me a chance, Kate. Stay away from us until after the baby is born.’

    ‘If that is what you wish, Annabelle, but you are making an enormous mistake. You barely know this person. Heath is not like you. He’s strong but angry and he’s vengeful. He’ll take all of his frustrations out on you…’

    ‘I don’t care,’ Annabelle raged for the first time in her life. ‘I love him.’

     Kate was not surprised and she wished her sister-in-law well but suddenly they were like strangers in the same room.                                   

    ‘You know what your words do Kate? They make me more anxious than ever to leave this house…tonight.’

    Kate sat on the bed; she knew she had tried to reveal Heath’s full nature to Annabelle but it had backfired. In fact, she’d made the situation worse. Kate had just alienated her only female friend.

   ‘I cannot say I’m surprised,’ Hunt said later. ‘I spent hours trying to talk her out of the marriage last night, but there was nothing to be done.’

    Edmund leaned in to kiss his wife on the cheek. Kate pulled away.

   ‘Annabelle is very determined to make this mistake,’ Kate said.

    One night, after they were married, unable to contain himself as Annabelle kissed him, Heath sunk his fangs into her neck (the taste of her blood was expectedly bitter to him). He knew, even after she’d fled the house, they could never be friends again.

     Annabelle, endlessly forgiving, wanted to try but he could never explain his true condition or his sense of unworthiness. There seemed little point, especially after Annabelle had finally lost it and screamed at him for being a freak. The next day, Annabelle fled to Cornwall and the family estate. It was just until the baby was born, or so she’d said.

     He didn’t blame Annabelle. He was glad, in some ways, to see the back of her. He was becoming exactly what he was born to be, an animal. Soon there would not be a shred of humanity left in him. He littered his wardrobe with discarded packets of plasma and when the maid found the empty packages she screamed. He wasn’t proud of who he was or what he’d done but after his wife left, he reconnected with his specialist and had a new elixir designed for him, Magenta Plus. This liquid began to control the variant in his condition.     

     When Annabelle returned to Hareton Hall, she occupied a separate bedroom.  Heath was surprised Annabelle didn’t leave him permanently. His wife had reverted to type and wanted to keep up appearances at all costs. Heath could read her thoughts by the time she returned and he knew she would run off once the baby was born, perhaps return to The Grange, but never to him. He thought she would leave again after catching him gorging discarded plasma from a plastic bag after a particularly long day at the office. He’d married her for all the wrong reasons; to get back at Kate and Hunt; to possess her and her property. Who could blame her? He’d respect her more for leaving. Deep down, he should have been more careful, controlled himself more around her. He resolved not to be such a fang freak in the bedroom.

     In truth, he was surprised Annabelle had stayed as long as she had. He knew she only tried for the sake of the baby and he wished he could be a better man for her, could love her even, but his heart always belonged to someone else.

     After she left, everyone left. Heath stopped taking his medication and began to drink too much elixir again. This resulted in an imbalance in his system and disturbing side-effects. He craved blood…human blood but had learnt how not to kill, how to just take enough, how to control himself. This control came from the part of him that was still fully human.

     Heath started to bring home girlfriends, randomly. This was an easy thing to do since he was so good-looking and hugely rich. None of them compared to Kate. Always, Heath was dissatisfied.

      Greta was disgusted by his immoral behaviour and resigned, telling him to join a twelve step recovery program and get himself back on track with his medication. She sent his Harley Street specialist for a home visit the day she left and whispered that she would call to check  on him in a few days to re-negotiate the details of her employment contract.

     During that time, Heath detoxed and was put under careful observation until he finally got himself back on track. He did some soul searching. In truth, none of the Spencers appeared to make good husbands, yet he wasn’t a Spencer, not really. He contemplated researching his bloodline but that would take him far from Kate and he didn’t want to leave her again. Though they hadn’t spoken for weeks, he knew she was close by at The Grange.

    It had been six months since he’d seen Kate and Greta had told him news of her pregnancy. After Heath married, he’d sent her running back to her weak and irritating husband. At the time, he was glad to see Kate go. He’d watched her turn and run out of the arboretum that night. He thought she deserved his indifference and was glad to bestow it upon her. 

    Only he hadn’t felt indifferent afterwards.

    He could still feel her under his skin. With every breath, he thought of her, couldn’t stop dreaming about her. He felt she must be feeling the same. His senses were more acute, even though he’d been denying them. 

(#Thirty: First Night) Wuthering Nights: Inspired by Wuthering Heights

Chapter Thirty

First Night

    At the Grange, Kate was finalizing new sketches for another play. There was talk of working on designs for the Art direction of a big American film that was being made over summer not far from Hampstead.

    Kate wrote all her fears and longings in her journals, something she had enjoyed doing since her earliest memories were recorded. She placed the journals in a space at the back of her wardrobe.

    Her own pregnancy gave her some comfort, although she couldn’t help but feel somehow the child growing within her was an alien. Occasionally, she went walking across Hampstead Heath holding the tiny hand of Katarina, who had just begun to toddle. Her daughter gave her endless hours of joy.

     As she leant down to pull her child’s knitted hat over Katarina’s lush, dark curls, Kate was struck by her resemblance to Heath. It was impossible for him not to know. Edmund did. He had told her he didn’t care; that they should marry anyway and start a family of their own; that Heath had likely been killed or disappeared never to return. They’d been hunting hybrids back then.  This was a few years before the Vampire Act had been passed giving hybrids the same rights as humans, theoretically.

    Edmund Hunt had been a good, kind, loving husband and father. He doted on little Katarina who adored him. Yet, Kate was haunted by her decision.

    Kate longed to go back in time, to the night she and Heath had run away and they had married as teenagers in love in the tiny church in Chelsea. They had spent barely one night together before the note was delivered that had revealed a possible connection, a lie that changed everything.

   ‘To everlasting love,’ Heath had toasted her in the tiny pub, ‘and my beautiful wife. I love you Kate Spencer and I will love you forever.’

     Kate smiled, knowing she felt the same, knowing that in that moment there was nothing she loved more than secret marriages and the man before her. The love of her dreams sat later on their hotel bed, with its new mattress and sheets. Heath’s perfect chest revealed his hard body, forbidden beauty and immense yet dangerous perfection.  Heath had nuzzled into her wrist as Kate wound her body around his. She was sure he was tempted to bite but he never did. It was almost as if they were the same person. That night, they lay together on the bed, the vial of elixir half-empty.

     ‘It worked,’ Kate said. ‘And you stayed in control…sort of,’ she smiled, rubbing her wrist where the nuzzle of Heath’s lips had left a slight red mark. Heath felt human and invincible, sleepy for the first time in years. ‘I love you,’ Kate said.

     They were simple words but Heath had waited a lifetime to hear them. 

     ‘There is nothing I can say to that, except, I love you more,’ he said, kissing her again. Kate could not believe that was true.

    They bathed and dressed for dinner, contemplating their imminent return to the world as husband and wife. Kate was pale at the prospect and began to look less like the honeymooning bride and more like a frightened school girl as she contemplated their departure from the hotel. Heath took his pills and drank some plasma outside on the balcony.   Kate remembered the note that contained not a shred of truth. The words had been for Heath’s eyes only.

      Kate thought about the truth as she gathered wildflowers with Katarina. Harrison had always played hard and fast with his lies. But of course, the letter he’d written was the reason she and Heath had parted; the reason Kate had sought sanctuary on that skiing holiday; the reason she’d had time alone to imagine herself with Edmund. The tests were arranged and were conclusive. Harrison had lied. But the whole process took more than a month and in the meantime, Heath disappeared.  She was told he had died, most likely from exposure and lack of blood.

      And there he lives, Kate thought, as she glanced over at Hareton Hall from the safe distance of the Arboretum. 

     Inside The Hall, Heath sat listening to his telephone messages on that day.

     He hadn’t seen Kate’s face for a long time. Greta occasionally took Hinton to the park to play with his cousin. Heath didn’t know about this. Kate always asked after them.

      When Hinton turned three, Harrison fled the Guest house, a crazy drunk. He had mostly left Hinton with Greta once Hinton’s desire to bite had become almost uncontrollable. Hinton displayed many of the characteristics that Heath had. A mild form of Magenta sated his thirst. Neither Harrison nor Frances understood the child’s condition and were happy when Greta agreed to keep him with her. After Frances disappeared in Paris, Harrison went mad. He drank all day and refused to hold down any kind of work.

     Heath stepped in and offered to adopt Hinton along with the house and Harrison couldn’t have cared less by then. Although the specialist assured Heath the Spencers were not even a distant genetic relation, Heath knew somehow, he and Frances had once been related. Heath felt closer to Hinton, who ate hungrily in the kitchen. Hinton was blissfully unaware of all that had become of his family. He gravitated towards Heath, a father and fellow bloodsucker. Heath hoped the world Hinton grew up in would be more accepting than the one he’d had to hide in, as he shared a piece of chicken with the child who gnawed hungrily with his first teeth and gave Heath a winning smile.

(#Thirty-one: Revelations) Wuthering Nights: Inspired by Wuthering Heights

Chapter Thirty-one

Revelations

    Once Kate heard about the trouble in Annabelle’s marriage, Kate decided it was time to speak to Heath, alone.

    Kate was rugged up in her usual riding gear and had the car keys in her hand, making a rattling noise which woke her sleeping husband. She’d woken up early and told Edmund that she was going for a walk.

   ‘At six in the morning, darling?’ he asked sleepily. ‘Should you really be going out in your condition? The air is like ice outside.’

   ‘Of course,’ Kate said. ‘I have the car. I intend to walk the easy path. It’s my new regime,’ she said, sarcastically. ‘Besides, exercise is good for the baby. Now go back to sleep…darling,’ she added as an afterthought.

    Kate pulled on her overcoat and looked into the mirror. At eighteen, when Kate had married Edmund, she’d felt older than her years. Now she was barely twenty-one and she had never told Heath why she had married Edmund so quickly; never told Heath why the pictures hadn’t been splashed all over the papers; why the marriage hadn’t been announced. He probably guessed and didn’t care. There were so many mistakes that had been made and more than enough time to put them right, even if somebody got hurt in the process. They were meant to be together and that was that. She had telephoned him, asked him to meet her.

    When Heath arrived at the glass house, having pulled up in one of his sleek sports cars, Kate knew she had to gauge his behaviour.

    She moved to touch him but he pulled away and turned his face. Kate wondered if he had already fed that morning on Magenta or… if his tastes had become more refined and… diverse. Kate would have offered her blood to him there and then if she’d felt it would fix the situation between them and not harm the baby. 

    ‘Why did you want to meet me here Kate?’ Heath asked in a weary tone. Heath noticed her messed up hair. 

    ‘Look at you. You’ve just got out of Hunt’s bed. I never thought I’d see the day…’

    ‘Heath…he’s my husband…If it makes you feel any better, we have separate bedrooms.’

    Heath’s eyes combed her face, her body, her round belly hidden under the coat. Kate must  have thought he was really stupid.

    ‘Why do you need to talk to me when you’ve got him?’

    ‘I needed to see you again.’

     Kate touched his hand, and all the emotions were like before. She could not deny this passion and Kate wondered if Heath felt the same.

    If he did, he didn’t show it.

    ‘I’m asking you not to…hurt Annabelle. She’s been a good sister-in-law to me, a good friend to us both.’

    ‘Oh, this is rich, sticking up for the other woman. What do you call this then? I’m sure if she knew we were meeting in secret she’d be thrilled,’ Heath added sarcastically. Then he moved towards Kate. At first, it seemed like he was going to kiss her. Instead, he was distracted by the baby’s heart beat and placed his hands over his ears.

   ‘Having a baby…makes it impossible for me to leave now. It does not mean I love you less.’

    Heath looked at her, ‘And you brought me here to tell me that? As if I didn’t already know? How could you Kate? You should have waited for me. I just wanted proof that Harrison had lied, and then nothing would have kept me away from you.’

    ‘I…I know,’ Kate said, weeping.

    He was so angry he moved to shove her, but thought better of it, though she didn’t resist his touch or step back. Instead he moved in close, swayed almost as if he was going to kiss her. Kate moved towards him at the same time.

    ‘Now, we meet as equals, Mrs Hunt,’ Heath said. ‘Now you get to be the jealous one.’

     That was the problem. Heath had all but ignored her since the night after the dinner party.  The closeness of her, the nearness of her almost touch, was enough to set him off. His mouth watered, his teeth sharpened. Kate stumbled and moved to sit down.

    ‘A fine mess we have made of our lives,’ she whispered. She looked at Heath and realized her love for him was like the air that surrounded them, ever-changing but eternal, always. Her love for Heath transcended time and space and even themselves. She couldn’t believe it had been so fragile, that she had been foolish enough to believe it would survive betrayal. Now Heath was married to another and gone forever.

    Kate moved to stand up but sat down again, quickly.

    ‘Are you alright?’ Heath asked, suddenly spooked.

    ‘Yes, I’m…I’m just upset, that is all. Please, Heath, don’t go, please come. Put your arms around me one last time. I…I would give up Hunt if only you’d ask me to.’

    And it was then, that Heath realized he’d finally gotten to her.

    Now was his chance.

    ‘You must be kidding,’ Heath said. ‘Do you really think I’d want you now? About to give birth to another man’s child…’

    ‘I wish it were your child,’ Kate said.

    ‘Well, it isn’t,’ Heath said, ‘and I don’t want you,’ he lied.

    Kate withdrew her hand.

    ‘Please don’t be like that.’

    ‘It was you, Kate, with all of your stupid airs and graces, the minute you were poisoned by the Hunts, you came to believe yourself one of them, better than the rest of us, better than me with my eternal…curse. I longed for immortality once but only to share it with you.

    ‘Share it with me now…’

    ‘You’d have to be joking. You’re not thinking straight in your…condition. You are so selfish you can’t even put your child first.’

     ‘Not now…later, after the baby is born.’

     ‘Forget it. No matter how miserable you are, you belong to him now…’

    ‘Never...’

    ‘And I have made another choice…’

    ‘I don’t believe you.’

    ‘Oh, I could never lie to you and tell you I love Annabelle. I don’t even like her, though I’ve tried hard enough. But hating you, Kate…is almost as good as loving you and how I have wished for this moment, to see you as you really are…empty and alone but for your selfish choices.’

     ‘It was not selfish, Heath. I couldn’t find you.’

     ‘You should have looked harder.’

     ‘I did. But I was lied to…Harrison convinced me you no longer lived.’

     ‘Well, he was wrong and he’s always plotted against us. You were foolish to believe him in the first place.’ Heath said, the morning’s gorge from the blood bank fresh in his veins. He felt empowered. There was strength in such a lack of desire. 

     ‘It was your fault too,’ Kate said, ‘for leaving me, for doubting us.’

      Heath remained silent. ‘Harrison swore we were…blood relations…’

    Kate looked shocked.

    ‘But it is not true. Here,’ Heath said, he unfolded a paper from his pocket. ‘There is no connection. I also spoke to my…mother. It appears my biological father disappeared one night after drinking… the blood of others. He has not been sighted since. Heath pulled out his original birth certificate, written in Spanish. The date was clear.

     ‘I’m a year older than I thought.’

     ‘Oh Heath, what have we done?’

     ‘If I did wrong, we both did wrong and now you are paying for it. Revenge is sweet.’

     ‘Really? Greta used to say revenge is a dish best served cold.’

     ‘Well, she always had a cliché at the ready.’

      Both the lovers were spent in their argument.

      ‘Please…Heath… Don’t do anything you will regret.’

      ‘Like what? Like leaving Annabelle? No, Annabelle will go of her own accord just like all the women in this family. I’m surprised it has taken her this long to work out that I only married her to hurt you and get my hands on The Grange.’

     ‘I don’t believe that. Annabelle loves you. She won’t go anywhere unless you force her to.’

    ‘She’s left me once already. You really think you can control all our lives Kate? I despise you for marrying Hunt. I despise you for not believing in me enough to wait.’

     ‘I… never stopped believing in you. I never stopped loving you. I wanted to do what was best for… Katarina.’

     ‘And yet you married another.’

      ‘I was told you’d gone forever!’

     ‘Mmm… a convenient excuse. How could you ever be with another man?’ Heath spat.

     ‘Like I said, he’s my husband.’

      ‘I was your husband.’

      ‘I know, but we were so young, I thought you’d changed your mind, abandoned me...’

      ‘Stop, stop crying. This is not the Kate I wish to see.’

      ‘It is the one you created. I have never stopped loving you…will never stop loving you Heath,’ Kate said as she stood up, ‘but I think this argument is going nowhere... Edmund…’

     ‘Ah yes, the wonderful Hunt…’

     ‘Don’t…be jealous. He has never taken your place.’

     ‘That’s exactly what he has done,’ Heath laughed bitterly. 

      ‘When I first saw you, Heath, I loved you. It is almost as if we are the one soul and that doesn’t change, no matter what. After the baby is born I want to be with you, forever.’

       Kate stood in the open doorway of the glass house as the wind began to howl and swept up her hair. ‘I can see there is no point in continuing to discuss this until then…’

      ‘You sound just like him…’

      ‘And you have become so much worse, swindling Harrison out of his own fortune…marrying my sister-in-law to hurt me…’

      ‘Your brother was a vicious drunk and a liar. He deserved it. Besides, it wasn’t a difficult thing to accomplish…and Annabelle knew what she was getting herself into.’

       ‘And making his child your own…’

       ‘Hinton needed a home after he was…abandoned by his own father…’

       ‘A home? You sent him to boarding school…’

       ‘From where he shall return once he is…educated…’

       ‘Educated enough to run wild like you and I did? I could never bear to let my child be that far away from me… And as for Annabelle, I’ve seen the scars on her wrist where you bit her…’

      ‘She asked me to…she thinks blood sucking is…more of a kink and less of a need.’ 

      Kate shook her head. ‘I can see we’re getting nowhere with this conversation.’

     ‘Everything that went wrong Kate, we did to each other. If you had just waited…if you had just believed in me like you promised you would…we said we’d never abandon one another…’

    ‘You abandoned me…’

    ‘I never stopped loving you…’

    ‘…Until now.’

    ‘You married another…’

    ‘So did you.’

    Heath shook his head, ‘To make you pay…’

    ‘I must go…’

    ‘Yes,’ Heath said, ‘your husband must miss you.’

     ‘I see you are determined to stay with Annabelle and ruin all our lives.’

     Heath raised an eyebrow angrily, ‘She is my wife.’ 

     ‘Just don’t hurt her,’ Kate said as she walked away. She did not wish to tell him the full truth about their child tonight. It had been a mistake to call him. Heath was left in the dark once again; his vow of revenge seemed hollow and pointless. 

(#Thirty-two: Birth) Wuthering Nights: Inspired by Wuthering Heights

Chapter Thirty-two

Birth

    Nights later, Kate woke in the dark. Her stomach grumbled as she listened to the rain lick the roof.  It was two in the morning. Hunt was sleeping soundly, as Kate crept silently to the wardrobe and removed her long, winter coat, her woollen hat, scarf and gloves. Instead of slippers she slid on her waterproof boots as she prepared for the winter night after many months of clear weather. Kate could hardly breathe she felt so cooped up. She couldn’t explain her need to get out of the house. Her mind was overworked. She was not thinking clearly. Kate wished she had told Heath about Katarina. She woke up, dreaming of Heath and thought if she didn’t get a breath of fresh air there was no way she’d have the strength to deliver the child that kicked inside her. She knew Heath had rejected her, yet she was compelled to find him.  

     Kate grabbed the keys to her car then realized she probably shouldn’t drive. Besides, her car was at the garage getting serviced. She knew Edmund’s Range Rover would make a loud scraping noise coming out of the gravel driveway. Instead, Kate walked quietly downstairs, found the keys to the house in the kitchen and walked very quietly out the door.   It was a good distance from the Grange yet she knew a shortcut across the heath towards Hareton Hall that she hadn’t used in months. She needed to see Heath again; she would wait for him - forever, if she had to. Tell him it was a mistake, that they belonged side by side, that she never wished to be parted from him again.

   Kate was not prepared for the cold air that slapped her face as she stepped into the night. She wasn’t far from the beginning of the trail that led between the two houses and she was sure she could find it. Rain started to spit down and the irrational part of Kate did not think about the stupidity of walking in the dark, alone, in her condition.

     The manicured garden formed a pattern - a maze that she remembered from childhood -and led the exact way across the heath towards Hareton Hall. The lone house was filled with secrets and lies. Kate was determined to find Heath, to talk to him about Katarina, to make him understand that she had made a stupid mistake. She knew this track, knew the way by dark and from memory. 

    Kate peered through the midnight air. She caught her breath for the first time in hours and pulled her overcoat tight around her. Kate knew she shouldn’t do it, but she thought, if she could just get a glimpse of her old home, the place she now missed, the only place she really belonged to, everything would be all right. She’d had a bad dream, about herself, about Heath and the baby. She needed to know that Heath was alright, needed to tell him about Katarina and wanted to see him again. It had been almost a week since they’d talked. Kate walked on.

     The baby stirred inside her and the rain spat down suddenly but softly from the sky. Kate kept going as crystal tears, like the ones from her childhood, began to roll down her cheeks. She put one foot in front of the other, driven. The wind howled, the night closed in on her. She stumbled and hit her head on the rocks. Kate was as far from The Grange as she was close to The Hall. The pain was unbearable as she screamed into the dark. 

  

   Hunt woke, restless in the night.

  ‘Kate,’ he called.

   He wondered which part of the house his beautiful, thankless wife had roamed off to. He saw that her cream dressing gown lay crumpled on a chair and something about the emptiness of the room, the silence in the hallway, bothered him. Hunt got out of bed, put on his slippers in his ordered way and walked downstairs to the kitchen.

   ‘Kate,’ he called again, ‘Kate.’

    In response, there was howling wind and an open window. He walked over to pull it down and latch it shut as the rain fell and the wind seemed to gather momentum. Then he noticed his keys were missing, which meant his wife had gone out driving (a ridiculous notion given that she could barely fit behind the wheel) or walking in the rain. Hunt was beside himself with worry and looked at the telephone. He knew where she had gone just as surely as if she had told him herself. Although the last thing he wanted was to talk to his sister, he picked up the receiver and dialled Hareton Hall.

    Heath never expected a call in the middle of the night so he hadn’t bothered to take the telephone off the hook. He couldn’t believe someone would bother to ring so he tried to ignore the noise until, restless and unable to sleep himself, he picked up the telephone.

    ‘Yes,’ he said, sleepily and irritated. Annabelle was asleep at the other end of the hall but woke when she heard raised voices. Belle wandered into the room, wrapped in a blanket.

    Heath had spoken only a few sentences before he handed the phone to Annabelle and left the room. He dragged on his boots, riding britches and a long coat. He’d had barely any time to dress because he knew, as surely as if Hunt had told him, where Kate was.

   ‘Is it Kate? What’s wrong?’

   ‘She’s gone missing. Your brother said she’d been acting strange. She’s been cooped up. He’s worried she was coming here and something’s happened…here, you talk to him…’

    ‘Shouldn’t you ring the police?’

    ‘It will be hours before they do anything, but yes, you do that. I’m going out, I think I know where she might have gone - it will be quicker.’

    It was moments later that Annabelle realised Heath had picked all of this information up from one sentence. If Annabelle hadn’t known better she would have said her husband was a mind reader. Annabelle looked both put out and worried as she walked over to the telephone. 

    Heath could read Hunt’s mind but he’d also dreamt about her. He dreamt about Kate every night. 

    In his dream they were running along Hampstead Heath together. They were children, again. It was summer. They were bare footed and laughing as the sun shone. Heath only needed a hat and sunglasses. His dream became a nightmare as the sky darkened and the rain came down and Kate, older, turned to him with rain on her face and said, ‘Remember…when I’m missing...when we  are parted…look harder…I’ll be there… I love you…I’ll always love you…When you find me we’ll be together…forever…’

    Then he must have woken and fallen asleep again and in the next dream he was lying in Kate’s old room with all her photographs on the dressing table where she’d left them, trying to sleep but constantly woken up by a tap at the window. Rain poured down and the rattle of her tiny fingers became harder and louder until the glass shattered and a voice, Kate’s voice snarled, ‘Let me in, let me in!’ Her neck was red with blood, her skin white as snow. Venom-filled fangs were bared as she hissed…I’ve been away for eighteen years…’

     Heath had woken and gone to touch the small hand of his beloved but just as her icy fingertips moved on the broken glass of the window pane, cut and bloody, she disappeared.

    Rain poured down as Heath walked, ran, and then merged speedily through the park. The meadow was becoming an ocean of water and mud.

    ‘Kate! Katherine!’ Heath yelled, shining a torch into the mist. ‘Katherine!’ He merged faster then ran towards the glass house. A bundle of shawl, overcoat, boots and wet hair lay waiting for him, shivering in the shelter. There was a gash on her forehead. Heath walked to her and put his arms around her, holding her in an embrace that locked them together like one person.

   ‘Kate, my darling Kate, what have you done? No one knew where you were. You shouldn’t have gone out on a night like tonight…’

   Kate looked pale and her face was wet from the rain and cold which was perhaps even worse. He knew he had to normalize her body temperature and although he was getting colder by the day, his coat would warm her. He bundled her up inside it.

  ‘I’m taking you to the car, Kate. I parked it not far from here. I knew where you would be.’

   Kate stumbled to her feet as Heath helped her. ‘You wouldn’t speak to me, Heath. You stopped talking to me…’

   ‘I was desperate. I tried to forget you.’

  ‘I know. We’ve both made mistakes…’

  ‘I should never have left you. It’s all my fault…’  

   ‘No, it’s mine,’ Kate said, half delirious. ‘Oh Heath, I came back to you…’ She put her arms around his neck. He leant in and whispered, ‘I never stopped loving you’. Her voice was fading. Then she curled up in pain and cried. Heath scooped her up and lifted her from the ground. Normally, carrying a heavily pregnant woman would be difficult but Kate was surprisingly light.

   ‘We have to get you home, get you warm,’ Heath said.

   ‘I’m…I’m sorry. Forgive me for what I did. I made a mistake, should never have married Hunt…but Katarina…’

    ‘Hush,’ Heath said, ‘I know, you’re delirious.’ He placed his hand on her brow, worried that her skin was burning. ‘None of that matters now…’

    ‘It is…as if we are the same person…I cannot exist without my love…I cannot exist without you…’

   ‘Nor I you,’ Heath whispered but it wasn’t clear if Kate could hear him. He knew he had to get her to a doctor, quickly.

    Heath bundled her into the car and rang emergency.

    ‘Kate, you’re not thinking straight. Try to stay awake. We’re almost…there,’ Heath looked over, and touched her forehead which was still warm but Kate’s eyes were closed, she was slumped into the seat belt and her breath was laboured.   

(#Thirty-three: Reborn) Wuthering Nights: Inspired by Wuthering Heights

Chapter Thirty-three

Reborn   

      Heath had stayed with Kate in her room and refused to be moved until Hunt barged in and demanded to see his wife. Heath was asked to leave. He reluctantly agreed to wait in the hall after he was assured by the nurses that Kate would live through the night and the child would be safe.

    At six in the morning he was told the child had been born and both mother and baby were sleeping. Relieved, Heath sighed. Hunt walked out of the room and said, ‘She wanted to see you. They say she will be alright…she’s sleeping now. I have a son.’

     Afterwards, when he had assured himself Kate was resting peacefully, Heath went home, and fell asleep on the couch as the sun came up. He was wrapped in Kate’s old blanket. Greta pulled the drawing room curtains shut, shielding him from the harsh light that made his pale skin sizzle.

     Greta woke Heath from a slumber he never thought he’d fall into, almost as if he were drugged from lack of sleep. Greta had her coat wrapped around her. Her face was downcast yet welcoming. Heath’s mind was a sea of nothingness. Morning rose like a cloud as the faintest trickle of sun shone through the imminent afternoon storm that would lead to yet another wild night. 

      Heath rubbed his eyes.

      ‘How is she?’

     ‘The baby, the boy, is well and healthy. They have named him Edmund after his father. Annabelle has gone to help her brother with the baby…’

     ‘I wasn’t asking about the child.’ Heath said wearily.

     ‘I know you weren’t. Kate is weak. She asked to be transferred home, she asked for you.’

     Heath pulled on his sweater and drove with Greta back to The Grange. He’d never had any desire to come here again, to the house with perfectly manicured gardens. Heath had always preferred the wild, unkempt beauty of Hareton Hall. The Grange held no secrets, until now.

    Hunt was standing at the door.

   ‘Oh,’ he said, ‘it’s you. She’s been asking for you, they say there is nothing I can do except let her rest. She lost a lot of blood but she insisted on coming home. There is a medical team with her…’

    Heath knew she hadn’t meant her home, here, at The Grange. He knew she’d meant her childhood home, Hareton Hall.

    In Hunt’s arms lay a sleeping baby with fair hair, like Edmund’s. Heath brushed past Hunt and the baby and bounded up the stairs, two at a time.

    Kate lay on the bed covered in a pale duvet. Her pain was dulled by the drip in her arm. Kate smiled when she saw Heath.

    ‘Oh Heath, you’ve come back to me,’ she whispered as he leant over her.

     Kate pulled him into her, his warm, strong body giving her the strength to speak.

    ‘I wanted to see you one last time…’

    ‘Quiet Kate…you need to rest.’

    ‘Plenty of time for that,’ she whispered. ‘I wanted to say how much…I loved you…love you still and that I have paid for my mistake…’

     ‘Quiet Kate, it is I who has paid also…for loving you…’

     ‘No…no…you don’t understand,’ Kate leant in close to him ‘…the baby is your child. I’ve named her Katarina. Please…please don’t take her from Hunt. I know he will be a…good father, but I wanted you to know the truth before I…so you can always keep a close…eye on her… my last wish is for Hunt to raise her Heath…because…’

    ‘Hush,’ Heath said, ‘You’re delusional. I know…all that is past.’

     Heath tried to hide his anger.

     Kate continued, ‘I know how…ambitious you are… there would be no place for a child in the world you seek…and because I know it will be hard for you to raise her, reminding you of me. Hunt will love her… as if she is his own.’

     Heath pushed his face into Kate’s cheek.

    ‘No Kate, you are talking madness. Don’t leave me…don’t leave us…’

    ‘I can’t…stay,’ she swallowed. ‘I’m so tired…no choice…’ A tear dropped down Heath’s face and onto her lips, paler than chalk. ‘I want you to know, there was no one in this world I loved more than you and I will love you beyond this earth...’

   ‘Don’t go…’ Heath whispered, ‘Fight…’

   ‘I dreamt, when I was under the anaesthetic, when they took the baby…I dreamt that I didn’t go to Heaven, Heath…’

    ‘Stop talking this way, Kate.’

    ‘I dreamt that I stayed with you…forever…here at The Hall…’

    ‘You’re at The Grange, Kate...’

     Kate continued, deliriously. ‘I dreamt that I haunted you…and we went to the heath every day and lay in the sun and it didn’t hurt us… we rode our horses…and had picnics and…raised Katarina…and it was as it always should have been. I never cared about…my career or travel or any of those things you enjoyed…I only ever wanted to be loved by you…to love…you. We are the same person you and I. We were never meant to be parted.’

    ‘No,’ Heath said, ‘Kate, Kate,’ he whispered ‘… I love you. I cannot live without you…’

  ‘Then don’t…’ Kate whispered. ‘Turn me…make me like you. I know you can do it…’

    Heath held her to him gently, trying to will the life back into her aching, bruised body but her breath was fading. There was blood on the sheets when she coughed. When her breathing stopped the medical staff wrestled Kate from Heath and started administering every possible remedy to her lifeless body until there was nothing further to be done.

    Kate, in her breathless whisper, asked everyone to leave; she only wanted Heath.

    Later, Heath let out a piercing scream as he stormed past Greta, who held the quiet baby boy, in the drawing room. The infant was unaware of the tragedy and commotion that was the post-script to his birth.