Chapter Thirty-nine
Wuthering
Nights
It was an icy winter evening in Hampstead
as he spread out all of the documents that ridiculous lawyer had required of
him for the transferral of property and funds. He was sure he hadn’t neglected
anything. He left no notes but he knew Greta would do as he wished. She had not
been forgotten either. There was an envelope for her which would be sure to
allow her to live in luxury for the rest of her life. Apart from Kate, she had
been the most loyal person he’d known.
Heath dressed in his warmest black turtle
neck jumper and found his boots and the coat he liked best and wore most often.
He heard a tap at the window, rain mixed with the branches of the tree outside,
hail trickling onto the roof, reminding him of her beautiful face and pale
fingers reaching for him.
It was not unusual any more. The waiting,
the anticipation, the brief visits that had prolonged his years. He had taken
to staying out late then driving home at two in the morning. But tonight was different, tonight she hadn’t
come to him and he knew it was because it was his turn to find her. Kate was
waiting for him in the dark, on the heath, in human form.
She called to him when no one could hear,
no one but him.
‘I’ve missed you…’ She said, ‘I told you
I’d come back to you.’
‘Kate,’ he whispered, ‘it’s been forever…’
he said under his breath, glad she was so restless, like him, a twin soul.
