(#Nineteen: Promises) Wuthering Nights by Summer Day: Inspired by Wuthering Heights

Chapter Nineteen

Promises

     Meanwhile, Kate was unreasonably cold in the Alps.

     Her roommates were chattering away by the fire, three to a room. They’d only known each other for a few months but already they were friendly, Kate thought, especially after she’d shown them the picture of her and Heath. On cold afternoons after deportment class and flower arranging and French cooking and “How to Entertain Diplomats” or “How to Behave When Greeting the Royal Family” tutorials were over, the girls socialized.

     They turned their iron upside down, pulled out the small milk pan they hoarded for this very occasion, and made hot chocolates by pouring milk into the pan and sitting the pan on the underside of the iron to heat the milk. Their drinks were laced with the cream and marsh mellows they bought in the tiny convenience store in town. The girls sipped hot chocolate as they talked. The topic of discussion was usually Kate, Heath and their “everlasting love”.

     One of Kate’s roommates, Tracey, was from California. She spoke in an accent Kate loved and made LA seem like a place Kate would definitely like to go one day. Daisy, the shorter one with dark hair, was from London.

    ‘Oh, he’s really cute,’ Daisy said.

    ‘Yes, he’s hot. I would…definitely,’ Trace replied with a wicked smile.

    Kate smiled. ‘Well, neither of you can have him, he’s all mine,’ Kate said, snatching the photograph, knowing she’d probably never have the pleasure of another image now that Heath was in the process of transition.

    ‘Are you sure?’ Tracey asked mischievously. ‘All alone in London after your brother treated him so…scandalously?’

    ‘Yes, it really was terrible to throw the foster child…out like that,’ Daisy added. ‘My mother would never treat a foundling that way. It just looks really bad to the outside world…’

      Kate had told them the whole story (well, the parts she could repeat – nothing about Heath’s transition) but they somehow always got the details wrong.

      ‘Heath is so hot,’ Daisy said, glancing at the photograph of Kate and Heath taken just days before they ran away from Hareton Hall. Kate looked at the picture nostalgically.

   ‘Gosh your house sounds so romantic, tucked away opposite a frozen park…’ Daisy added.

    Kate unfolded the letter she had received from Heath by way of Annabelle and re-read it as she stirred the milk pan, making sure a plastic skin didn’t form.

    ‘Only one more week,’ she thought ‘…before I’m free of this place forever.’

     The girls had been sworn to secrecy and Kate had worked out the route she would take from the school, down to the convenience store across the sleet road to the bus stop, down the mountain road to the train station, through the tunnel in the mountain…across the channel then on to London.     

     The café was in Dean Street. From the corner table you could see the cobbled pathway that led towards Covent Garden. Art students and opera singers busked there in the hub of shops and cafes and people. 

    It had been a long three months and in that time Heath and Kate had communicated using letters and postcards. 

   

     In the pre-internet nineties, Kate and Heath needed Annabelle as their intermediary.

     The cards and letters Kate wrote Heath during their enforced separation lined the wall of the tiny room he’d taken. They began to arrive less than a week after Heath and Kate   separated. Kate found a local bakery near the school where she walked to in her lunch hours and religiously posted a card to Heath using Annabelle’s address. Sometimes at night after Heath had eaten food brought home with him from the pub (always some kind of red meat or chicken), he fell asleep reading the names of the cards on the wall.

     The words: holiday, skiing and Switzerland became a kind of pattern in his mind; a pathway out of the daily grind he told himself was only temporary. He recognised a stronger desire for blood (and always the desire for revenge on Harrison) the closer he got to midnight.

      His love for Kate tempered him. He was sure it made him a better person to know he had to be the best he could, for her. He resisted the evils lurking in St James. Daily, he was tempted by the homeless people on the street, the women in expensive coats, business men in even more expensive suits. Their veins pulsed at him like light if he was even a few minutes late taking his medication. He’d explained all of this to Kate in a letter; the one in ten thousand chance he’d had of being born a hybrid, then turning into a vampire; how his biological father must have carried the gene but not necessarily suffered from its affliction.

    The night he was due to see Kate, Annabelle and some of her Art School friends took Heath out to celebrate the fact that he had applied and been accepted into a training program at the firm where he cleaned. His brilliance with numbers and ability to stay up all night studying ensured him the highest marks in the exam. They went to a restaurant in the centre of town where Annabelle, who had pretty much given up on Heath as anything but a friend, had arranged a surprise for Heath. Kate’s arrival was not supposed to be until the next day, Saturday, but she’d managed to “escape” early, as she put it.

    Kate waited for Heath expectantly. She wore a scarlet coat and a matching scarf and her hair was swept up in a winter woollen cap, making her appear sophisticated beyond her years. Annabelle arrived with a group of friends from Art School and headed to the reserved table.

    ‘Kate! It’s so wonderful to see you. I cannot believe you are back in London for good! Don’t worry; everyone thinks you are staying with me. They won’t notice you’ve gone missing until Tuesday - plenty of time for you and Heath…’

    ‘I can’t thank you enough, Annabelle.’ Kate said.

    ‘Well,’ Annabelle replied, ‘I hope we can be friends now, as we were always meant to be.’ Annabelle glanced over at the handsome Art School student she was dating and Kate realised Annabelle was finally over Heath. Maybe it was true they could at last be friendly. Without her cover, she would never have been able to escape the day before her birthday. 

     ‘Thank you so much for being such a true friend to me Annabelle.’

     ‘Not at all, it’s about time Harrison got some of his own medicine. I’ve always liked Heath… as you know, but let’s face it, he only ever had eyes for you,’ Anne added.

   When Heath arrived, expecting to see Annabelle and her other friends (who were now his friends) he was completely floored.

   ‘Kate! You changed your mind and arrived early!’ he said as she shyly kissed him on both cheeks.

   ‘I wish. Tomorrow,’ she whispered in his ear, ‘I’m yours forever.’

   Kate flung her arms around him and together they sat with the group while they all decided where to go for dinner. Something cheap but cheerful in Soho was the general consensus. Heath chatted excitedly about his new job opportunity and Kate told him about her plans to enrol in Art College with Annabelle.

   Kate leaned in toward Heath and took his hand under the table. ‘I don’t care what happens now as long as I’m with you,’ she said. ‘Finishing School was a nightmare.’

   Heath smiled back with his eyes and whispered to her, ‘I love you.’ He had invested his stock market winnings and had managed to double the money in a month. It was enough for them to have their deposit on a flat.

    ‘The room in Covent Garden, it’s tiny, it’s not much, but soon I’ll be making so much money. In a few years you’ll be able to choose the finest house in London - or, who knows, we could move to America. I’ve always wanted to go there.’

   They talked this way all night, making plans for their future. They couldn’t tell anyone about their plans for the next morning, not even Annabelle. It was too risky to involve others. They intended to stay up all night until their wedding day which would be the following morning.

   ‘New York is supposed to be brilliant,’ Kate said as she ate the salad off her plate and passed Heath the chicken.
    ‘It is for artists,’ Toby said. Kate was keen to meet Toby, Annabelle’s boyfriend. Belle had been secretly seeing him for months. It was the reason for her move to London. Annabelle’s father didn’t approve of her dating an artist. In defiance Annabelle had run away from home. Her father had not dared to cut her off financially though, as Heath and Kate had been. Annabelle was in love (for the second time, Kate thought with a smile). Belle’s new passion finally took the heat off Heath, although he’d obviously grown to like Annabelle. They’d made better friends than he’d anticipated.  Unexpectedly, Annabelle dragged Toby up off his seat and they began to dance to some random eighties song together.

    Kate leant in, ‘Wow Art School has certainly changed Annabelle …”

    Heath replied, ‘For the better, I’d say. By the way, how long before they notice you’re missing and phone the authorities?’

    Kate said, ‘You mean Harrison …’

   ‘Yes.’

   ‘Well, they think I’m staying with Annabelle until Tuesday. By tomorrow, I’ll be eighteen and they won’t have any say in the matter.’   

     Kate leant in and Heath kissed her, the strobe lighting played tricks with their shadows as he whispered, ‘I’m under control... I just thought you should know…I’ve been to the specialist and he says I may not devolve any further as long as I stay on my…’

     Kate put her finger to his lips, ‘We love each other. That is all that matters.’

      At midnight, Heath replayed those words many times in his head. He could see Kate’s expectant face as Annabelle and Toby wandered off to another club. Heath and Kate hailed a taxi. 

    ‘I want you so much,’ Kate whispered to Heath in the back of the London cab.

    ‘Me too, but we should wait until morning.’

    ‘What do you mean?’ Kate smiled.

     ‘By morning, the transition for me will be almost complete. My specialist told me the first phase takes three months, unless there is a relapse. I’ve been taking my medication now for almost three months and I’m… stable. I won’t be tempted to…drain you…’ Heath then looked away as he said this and pulled out of his jacket the ring he’d been carrying in his pocket since his first pay cheque. He’d lived on nothing and saved every cent to buy Kate the style of ring that he thought she deserved. The diamond was larger and more expensive than a young man in his position would have been able to afford, but it was a token of his trust in their future and his faith in Kate’s complete love. The diamond shone.

   ‘Oh, Heath, it’s beautiful.’

   Kate slipped it on her finger.

   ‘Happy birthday Kate.’

   ‘It fits perfectly,’ Kate said as she slid her arms around Heath’s broad shoulders and kissed him passionately.

   ‘Oh, we need to do this properly,’ Kate whispered, coming up for breath.

   ‘Driver, pull over please,’ Heath said.

    The cab pulled up on the curb near the well-heeled part of Kensington where the shops were freshly painted. 

     Heath asked the driver to wait, while he opened the door and helped Kate out.

     In the street lights, Kate walked with Heath towards a clothing shop.

     ‘Wait outside,’ she warned, ‘I had access to some money for the ski trip I’m meant to go on. I ordered something from this store in Switzerland.  The store had it packed up and sent to the London shop. You’re not allowed to see it yet.’

     Kate returned with a large bag. Inside was her wedding dress. It had been packaged up for her collection, all arranged weeks ago.

    Before she could add anything in words, Heath kissed her.

   ‘Kate, you have made me the happiest person in London.’

   ‘And you have made me the happiest woman in the world, in the universe,’ Kate said. It was first light as they drove towards the tiny church in Chelsea; Kate recalled scrawling the words Katherine & Heath own the universe…all over her school texts when she was younger. Soon those words would be a reality. Kate knew they belonged together - her dream was coming true. 

    It was freezing; flakes of snow began to fall from the sky as they walked up the steps. Kate emerged from a side room dressed in her cream lace vintage gown. Heath was talking with the vicar. They’d bought flowers from a street seller on the way and Kate held a large bouquet of tulips.

    Together they said their traditional vows and both embraced on their promise. Kate shivered as they kissed.

    They exchanged words of thanks with the vicar who remarked on their youth. After the promise of their love, they signed the registry.

    Outside as they hailed a cab, Kate and Heath kissed again with an intensity that made people on the footpath stare.

    Heath smiled, filled with love for his beautiful new wife. He had wanted her from the first moment they had kissed, yet they had waited to be free. They reached for each other in the back seat of the London cab as they headed towards Soho. Heath had spent his whole pay cheque on a suite at the best hotel in Covent Garden. The exquisite room with the Queen sized double bed and fresh sheets was strewn with the petals of Kate’s favourite flowers as Heath carried his young wife over the threshold. For the first time in months, as they kissed passionately and undid the buttons on lace and silk, their lives seemed rich with possibility.

      The afternoon had been perfect. The transitions occurred in the shadows, in the early hours, as Kate lay sleeping. She woke and hugged Heath to her, nursing him through his night terrors, checking they had all the necessary supplies of Type A, plasma, elixir, medication. The final part of the six-month process was the worst, they’d been told. Kate soothed Heath as he fell back into a trancelike sleep.

     In the early morning, a knock at the door woke Heath. Kate had risen earlier and was using the hair dryer. A messenger delivered a note addressed to Heath who read it quickly.

     ‘I’m just going outside for a moment,’ he said through the gap in the bathroom door.

     ‘Uh, okay,’ she called out to him. Silence was the response.

      Kate wrapped her dressing gown around her and padded into the room with wet feet. She searched the hallway of the hotel; nothing. It worried her that the messenger and Heath had disappeared into dawn.

      Heath had hastily scribbled a note for her and left it on the bed.

     Forget me until I find you. Wait for me, I’ll return. I’m sorry H.

     Kate was shocked. It couldn’t be Heath’s writing, but it was. Kate dropped the note on the floor, pulled on her clothes hastily and ran out onto the street, bare foot, to look for him. After an hour on the street, searching through the crowds, it was hopeless. Her feet, bloodied and bruised, were the least of her troubles. Heath had disappeared into thin air. All Kate had left was the memory of the first night they’d spent together, blissfully entwined in each other’s arms.

(#Twenty: London) Wuthering Nights by Summer Day: Inspired by Wuthering Heights

Chapter Twenty

London

Three Years Later

    Heath was walking home from work after he’d been photographed for the cover of New Business Magazine. The journalist was writing about Financial Whizz Kids – the title chosen for the article. Heath tried to remain himself but the art director had insisted on having his hair messed, his tie skewed and his jacket open, giving him the appearance of a rock star and making him more famous amongst his colleagues in a week than he had been in a year.  Women he’d never met messaged him. Heath told them he was married and most of them stopped.  He was too young to be married but then he explained he’d met his wife when they were teenagers and they just raised their eyebrows.

     Soho on Friday night was lit up with music and lights, like a buzzing carnival act. The West End was busy every night of the week. Heath had been working in the City making more money in his first year as a stock trader than he’d dreamt possible. Through extreme luck and, some might say, mathematical genius, financial fortune came his way. He was a mystery to his co-workers, but Heath knew the truth; that he never slept, that he was able to do in one day what took others a week; he could stay awake and trade in every time zone.

     After trawling the usual after-work bars with work colleagues (referred to euphemistically as “friends”), Heath often ended up near his home in Chelsea at a small cafe, drinking elixir from a flask and checking the Asian markets as he waited for his supper of rare roasted lamb, occasionally fish, sometimes chicken – always protein. He usually arrived at his house in the early hours of the morning and was up again and seated at his desk by six in the morning.

    He was aware that more than a decade of living this lifestyle would take its toll on his family, yet he existed in the moment. Money markets and stockbroking firms were where traders like him could make a huge profit and get out by the time they hit thirty, which gave him about nine years until burn out. And then some, because he’d been warned now, he wouldn’t appear to age more than twenty-six years. He had made a full transition, immortality beckoned. He loved the feeling money and this new vampirical power gave him. It had taken him less than a year to turn his life around and he couldn’t help but congratulate himself on his good fortune. He never had any doubt that he was as good as anyone else, as capable as any person.

     Heath stayed out late to avoid going home. It was true their house was envied in a street full of beautiful homes and families, but it was all surface. To the outside world, they seemed so perfect. Still, he knew he’d made this “fast money” by doing things he never dreamt he’d do – marrying into wealth, identifying the weaknesses of other men and preying on them. As he made money, others lost it.

     When the waiter brought the tall, striking young man in the dark suit another coffee as he’d requested, Heath remembered the request from his wife. She had asked him to bring groceries home - milk, bread, mundane things, nothing special. The message had been given to him in his office six hours ago. She’s added love and kisses as she always did, revealing her true self with each forgotten word. It had all become a bit old to Heath. He flinched when he recalled the embarrassing note.   

    Familiar music played in the café; a beautiful song, sung by a band Kate had liked, all about the perfection of a day. For evening, it couldn’t have been a more inappropriate song. Nevertheless, the music played as Heath drank his coffee and went over the business transactions on his laptop as the wait staff began to clear up and wonder when the last customer would leave.

   The words of the song played over and over in his mind.

   Heath sighed, wondering why Kate always came back to him when he was alone. He wished she could be erased from his memory, forever. Any good psychologist would tell him he was better off without her. Heath finished his drink, and then went to the street to hail a cab. Of course, he wasn’t far from the bedsit they’d shared briefly after they’d married. The West End was filled with his memory of her.

    Meanwhile, Kate was at home at The Grange wondering how it had all gone so wrong. She sat in the window seat in the moonlight, doing some sketches under a lamp for the theatre design she was drafting. The drawings were a welcome distraction from her personal life and she’d grown to enjoy the drawing and planning along with the productions she worked on at the theatre with Annabelle; at twenty-one, she felt old.

   

    Two years previously

    Kate gave birth to a girl, Katarina.

   The baby’s birth was premature, yet she survived. Kate and the baby’s nanny were waving toys above Katarina’s crib in the nursery at The Grange, six months later. It was a lighter, airier room than the one at Hareton Hall, decorated with pink curtains at Annabelle’s insistence. There was a familiarity at The Grange which led to a certain type of contentment as Kate soothed her baby.  Just as she was about to sing Katarina her favourite lullaby, Annabelle ran breathlessly into the room.

    ‘Kate, I have to tell you something,’ Belle whispered. ‘The detective contacted me this morning; he’s discovered money being deposited into Heath’s bank account; they traced it to New York. Heath’s been living over there.’

    Kate was silent. 

   ‘Don’t you see what that means, Kate?’ she whispered. ‘He’s alive! We thought the worst when his bank account hadn’t been touched.’

   ‘Yes,’ Kate said. ‘I felt he was alive. What am I supposed to say? He abandoned me.’ She turned and walked purposefully up the stairs. The wild haired girl she had once been was prematurely replaced by a grown up wife. Kate looked at herself in the mirror as she dressed in her old jeans, red sweater and expensive winter coat. All she saw in the reflection was a miserable young woman, a terrible mistake. What choice did she have? Kate had wanted a father for her child.

    Months of wondering and searching for Heath who was untraceable had been hard on her. The man she loved had proved himself worse than unreliable. She knew she should be forgiving as Annabelle would no doubt be, yet she found it difficult to smile. If Heath did return, he was sure to be angry.

    ‘He’ll come to visit you, I know he will,’ Annabelle said as she walked into Kate’s room.

    Kate just looked at her, barely smiling. They walked downstairs. 

    ‘Well it won’t do much good now, will it? I’m going to see what Greta has made for lunch.’ Kate glanced briefly at the parcel Annabelle had left for her on the dining room table.   

     ‘These are the photographs I took,’ Annabelle added.

      Annabelle had taken photography as one of her core subjects at Art College. She had a job as a gallery assistant in a Soho studio. Her photographs were artistically lit but practically framed, perfect for advertising a production such as the one Kate was now co-designing in the West End.

   Kate’s passion for painting had not subsided. She’d also completed a theatre design course and her sketches were much in demand. Motherhood, and the beginnings of her artistic  career, had gone part way to rectifying the monotony of her days.  Katarina and painting made her focus on the future.

   That week, Harrison, his wife Frances and her young brother Hinton, had gone to Ireland to visit the premises of a new company. Edmund Hunt, Kate’s husband, was spending the day at his office in the City. Kate had agreed to house sit at Hareton Hall that night with the baby and her nanny, but only to satisfy her sister-in-law’s wishes.  

    Kate was working on one of her final designs for the play due to open the following month, and feeding Katarina, when she rushed up to the kitchen and hung her head over the sink. Though her stomach was flat, she felt unsettled and nauseated, again. The thought of bringing a new life into her world was quite shocking although she knew Edmund would be happy about it. Kate put the symptoms of pregnancy out of her mind. After Katarina and her nanny were settled upstairs, Kate decided to explore. 

    It was strange to pad around Hareton Hall in bare feet and her dressing gown for the first time in years. The memories were provoking a strong reaction in her.

     The mansion was quiet but it still felt more like home than The Grange. She felt the absence of Heath and her father, everywhere she wandered.  The usual staff had Sunday afternoon off, including Greta. Kate had turned all the chandelier lights on (the electricity bill was sure to annoy Harrison) and turned the downstairs music up. She wasn’t that far away from being a teenager even though she was now a mother; she felt like softly dancing the roof off, if only to forget how much of a mess she’d made of everything.

     When she finished moving to the music, she decided to explore the upper floors. She peeked into the playroom where Katarina was soundly asleep. The nanny, whom Edmund had insisted on employing (she had raised both him and Annabelle), was knitting a cardigan in the comfortable arm chair and placed her fingers to her lips. Kate quietly shut the door. Although the nanny was brilliant, Kate sometimes thought the woman considered her too young to be an adequate mother.

     Wandering alone through the top floors, she was surprised to find her former bedroom was similar to the way she had left it. Her school mementos had been placed in boxes high in the cupboard and labelled in Franny’s neat, clear, handwriting.  Photographs from every year of her childhood and adolescence, as well as old videos, were stacked side by side. 

      It was kind of Frances not to have thrown them out, Kate thought. Previously, she’d had   little to do with her sister-in-law though they now lived ten minutes apart. There was even a box of old school uniforms. Kate took out her blue blazer with red piping around the edges, the one she’d worn to boarding school in Scotland. Then she pulled a large, woven basket towards her. She intended to have a huge throw out, to leave the past behind her once and for all.

      Cleaning up was busy work and mid-morning; half way through throwing out her old clothes, Kate became bored. She checked on Katarina, kissed her precious face, fed her, and then considered her clothing options. Kate dragged her old riding clothes from her wardrobe and pulled on high, polished black boots that matched her long, curly dark hair. Kate twisted her curls into a loose bun and grabbed her coat. It was true that Harrison had maintained the house but it was sure to be chaotic again soon with the imminent return of the rambunctious yet adorable Hinton.   

     On occasion she had found Hinton, a few years older than Katarina, standing by her cot and attempting to hold hands with the baby or teach her words she didn’t know. He was a very protective, sweet natured child, although Kate constantly worried for his future in the care of Harrison. Yet Hinton’s good nature seemed to bring out the best in everyone around him, including her brother.

     Thirsty, she stomped to the kitchen, aware of her noisy feet on the polished floors. The music had stopped and the place was almost eerie. Kate missed her father, but not enough to live in the house that held the memory of him, Heath and of their shared childhood. Kate poured herself a large glass of water and drank it quickly. Almost as quickly, she grabbed her scarf and went outside to the stables, pulling the door shut behind her.  The wind, which was rising across the Heath in the distance, along the walking tracks and riding trails, was harsh. Her lips were red and her cheeks flushed with cold and exercise. 

      Kate patted, brushed and saddled her horse but she decided to walk alongside Hero through the park trail. It was not a great day for riding in her possible condition. Although it started out sunny, it became cool, windy and overcast. Kate knew exactly where to find shelter when the storm that had earlier threatened to interrupt her afternoon, finally arrived, after she’d been walking Hero for half an hour. Kate removed her wedding ring, the one that rubbed on her finger with the reigns and placed it in her pocket. She wore her first one around her neck, close to her heart. 

(#Twenty-one: Revenge) Wuthering Nights by Summer Day: Inspired by Wuthering Heights

Chapter Twenty-one

Revenge

     Hampstead Heath had a thin film of lavender mist hanging over it during winter as she headed for the Glass House. There were very few people in the meadow at this hour of the day. Kate was invigorated from the cool air in a way she wouldn’t have been had she stayed inside. Her usual routine - a light lunch, nurse Katarina, read or do some yoga - before wading through the play script that lay in wait for her had been replaced by her ramble.  She had more ideas about the design of the play she was working on and had brought paper with her to sketch the arboretum. The garden was the central motif in the play and she wanted to take another look at the architecture.

       Kate tied her horse up and got him some water. As she did this, a familiar horse rode towards her, or maybe she just thought his markings were familiar. As she looked closer through the clearing, it was the rider she recognised. He was slightly older, leaner, yet unmistakably the man who had filled her every waking dream and now her nightmares.

    Heath alighted from his horse in the easy manner of a country squire.

    Kate looked over at him. Even from a distance, she could hardly believe he was real.

   He walked towards her, slowly, with purpose.

     Before they spoke she reached over when he paused to touch his face as if to ask the vision before her if he even existed.

     ‘Heath?’ She whispered.

     ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘It’s me.’

     ‘But…you’ve been gone…for three years. I tried to find you. What happened? How did you come to be here?’

     ‘Perhaps I should be the one asking questions. I saw your marriage notice in the paper not long after we parted.’

      Kate was silent for a moment.

     ‘You left me,’ she said.

      Heath’s face displayed a knowing, hardened expression with more than a twinge of anger.

     ‘I am staying at the pub. I have business with Harrison in relation to Hareton Hall. I went around looking for him but there was no one at home. I saw your car in the driveway and I didn’t think you’d be far. The horses were there - all except Hero. One of them was practically biting his way out of the stable, so I thought I’d take him out. He seems to remember me.’

    Heath patted the animal and went to tie the reigns.

   ‘Business… with Harrison?’

   ‘Yes. Greta told me you’d be here. You might be interested to know that I am soon to be the new owner of Hareton Hall.’

   ‘How?’

   ‘Harrison mortgaged it to my company; he lost his money gambling. The house was going cheap and I put a down payment on it. I officially own it as of…about three minutes ago. ’

     Heath smiled. Kate knew she didn’t have the full details of the matter but suddenly realized how good he must feel.

     She visibly shivered as Heath took her gloved hand in his.

     ‘I am to be your new neighbour Mrs Hunt.’

     Kate sighed, never having doubted, in the faint possibility if he ever revealed himself to her again, Heath would one day be the stronger of them.

     ‘And what of Harrison?’

     ‘Oh, he can remain in the guest cottage until he’s found another place to stay. It’s all arranged.’

      Together they walked in breathless silence towards the glass house where they had met as children. There were overgrown hothouse flowers and benches and comfortable chairs for lovers. The chairs had been unused all winter until Kate and Heath rested upon them, side by side. Again they sat in silence for what seemed the longest stretch of time. Actually it was only a few minutes.

    Both former lovers were angry. Kate was almost speechless.

   ‘Did you read the note I left?’

    ‘Yes, you said you’d find me,’ Kate replied softly. ‘It wasn’t enough. All those legal terms…none of them true.’

    ‘I needed proof. Harrison told me we shared the same biological father…’  He showed Kate the note.

     Forget your unnatural desires, it read. Apart from the fact that you are a monster there are few grounds for an annulment and marrying a close relative is one of them. I tried to keep you both apart for a reason. Kate is your half-sister. Mother left because she knew! That’s what they were fighting about that night, more than ten years ago. I heard them! You are father’s biological child. He said so himself…Do Kate a favour and leave her. I’ll arrange an annulment at this end. We’ll tell her you changed your mind. I’m sure she’ll understand once she knows the truth. I tried to warn you. Thank me later, Harrison.

    Kate shook her head after she read it.

   ‘I am not surprise. Harrison told me of the supposed connection. I suspected he was lying.’

    Heath was silent.  Kate tore the letter up. 

    ‘Later, after I married Edmund he admitted it was another of his lies, designed to tear us apart - only this one worked,’ Kate said regretfully.

    Heath noticed Kate’s scarlet riding jacket. It contrasted with her black riding boots and reminded him of blood. The colours suited her well. Blood reminded him of betrayal.

    He would never admit that he envied her marriage and longed for revenge upon her family that went further than just the ownership of Hareton Hall. In any case, Kate must have expected the foreclosure on her childhood home since there had been talk all over town for months that Harrison was going broke and had dragged the family name into disrepute. Then he remembered that it was likely Kate barely knew anything. She rarely spoke to her brother.  

    ‘What have we done Heath?’ she said after a long silence.

     He could see her breath, cold in the air and longed more than ever to do what he’d always resisted doing; to do what he’d done in the endless nights of travel, parks and animal blood. Then, after he had money, there had been the empty living of hotel suites, women and elixir to help drown his misery. It had taken him months to trace his mother, to find out the truth.  The specialist had told him he could be fairly sure Harrison’s allegation was untrue but for total confirmation he’d have to locate his biological mother and trace some evidence of his biological father. It had all taken so much longer than he’d expected, several weeks. He’d been in virtual limbo in the meantime, not wanting to burden Kate with his misery after he’d tried to find her. He’d seen her through the windows of The Grange that night, looking so content.

     He felt more empowered inside than ever since he’d allowed his true nature to emerge. Once he’d stopped worrying about Kate’s thoughts he could begin to live the life he was born to live. He looked at her again, the veins in her wrist and neck, thumping, tormenting him.

     Her hand moved to his and she looked at him pleadingly. In that moment, he was sure he hated her unfairly. The glimpse of the wedding ring near her neck convinced him he was right. His plan for vengeance had stirred in him ever since he’d seen Edmund kissing Kate in the window seat that night. Weeks after Heath and Kate married; Heath’s transition phase began to stabilize.  He wanted her back. 

     Kate looked at him accusingly.

    ‘How can you look at me like that? You married another. You didn’t wait as I asked you to. Harrison had drained the family funds and I now see what a good idea it was for you to marry richly and quickly and…to that spoilt brat Hunt. I see how easily an annulment was arranged, given the feigned reasoning that we were biologically…related. I can’t believe you actually went through with the new marriage. Of course, it all makes perfect sense, given the way you were raised and your brother’s distorted value system…’

      ‘In my defence, there was a good reason. You abandoned me. Harrison finally admitted it wasn’t true but by then I couldn’t…locate you.’

      ‘I came to find you, weeks later, after I’d made sure…everything was as it needed to be.’

      ‘I was dragged to Verbier to recover from my broken heart.  I had a skiing accident. I was unconscious for three days! I couldn’t get a message to you. I looked for you everywhere. I tried to find you but you had…disappeared. I waited for you… long enough. You had simply, vanished. It was…logical for me to…marry Edmund, I had no choice…I never believed you would ever come back to me. Not after the note Harrison wrote.’

     ‘I said I would return. Love is not logical Kate.  I’m sure your mother taught you that…’ He coughed into the sleeve of his jacket as he said this. Kate was alarmed by his thinness and pallor. He looked hungry.

     ‘You are so cruel Heath. You know my mother taught me very little except how to leave.’ The woman stood, but she did not move away from him. Just being near him gave her strength and courage. The scent of Kate’s perfume was an elixir to Heath, as magical as her blood which he longed to drink. He moved closer.

      ‘Stay,’ Heath said. ‘Please stay. No piece of paper should separate us.’ He took her gloved hand, looking desperate for the first time and slumped into her shoulder. ‘Please, get me my…drink. It’s in the saddle bag.’

      Kate got up and grabbed a flask, taking off the top and poured Heath some amber liquid.

     ‘How is your…condition?’

      Heath took a sip and looked at her as if he might eat her.

      ‘Manageable.’

      He’d torn the leg off a turkey and eaten it before he’d come to find her. At least the leg was cooked. He hadn’t stooped to raw meat yet, unless it was a fresh animal kill.

      By then, from the look on her face, Heath knew he had gone too far. Kate, like him, had had very little parental guidance. The girl turned on him as he regained his strength, lashing out…

     ‘You don’t know everything…you don’t know anything! You went missing after our wedding, remember? I thought you’d abandoned me or worse, that you were dead! What did you expect?’

      ‘I… I didn’t want to hurt you with the truth about our family… what I’ve since learnt was false. I went for a walk to clear my head but the transition caused me to collapse in a gutter. I woke up three days later in a police station…’

     ‘You should have known…Harrison would do anything to separate us.’

       Kate looked away.

       ‘I know… for that I owe you an apology.’ Heath said. ‘Harrison’s lie was a shock to say the least. Something I wanted to spare you.  To do that, I needed the truth. I needed to find my…birth mother.’

        He did not wish to elaborate upon the murkier details of the conversation he’d had when Harrison had inferred Kate was a blood relation.

         Kate looked away, ‘I know,’ was all she said.

        ‘When I had proof, I contacted Greta. She begged me not to make trouble but I had to find you anyway. Then I learnt you’d gone skiing…with the Hunts.’

       ‘You had disappeared. Annabelle offered comfort and support…’

      ‘Yes, I know, and her brother…’ Heath said sarcastically, ‘You’ve always been perfectly capable of impressing your…admirers, Kate. I hear you are the talk of the theatre world, young designer of the season, your drawings and paintings nominated for an award…’

     ‘Oh, you never cared about me having a career…how dare you joke about it now! We both know all that seems meaningless in relation to…all of this.’

    Heath turned and held Kate by the shoulders, ‘You’re right, I never did care about your career as you put it, because all I wanted was you…’

     ‘And you had me…’

     Heath laughed sardonically.

     Kate continued ‘… You were the one who went missing, remember.’

     ‘Yes and now look at you, married to someone else with barely three months between us. Harrison must have really pulled strings to have the annulment rushed through.’

     Kate looked away.

     ‘The paperwork was destroyed. It was all hushed up. No one except the family knew we were even married.’