Page 58 of The Haunting of William Thorn

If he had tears left to shed, William wouldn’t have stopped crying. But alas, he was dry to the bone, empty of anything else to release.

When Archie died, William had felt guilty for kicking him out of their house, forcing him onto his bike in the rain, and putting him on the road.

It had nearly ruined him – if his neighbour hadn’t found William on the precipice of meeting Archie in death, then he would’ve given up on this world all together.

But the one thing he’d held onto, the string that tethered him to his life and kept him going, was the belief that Archie had cheated.

That his actions had broken William’s heart first before William’s decisions caused Archie’s body to break against the bonnet of a car.

William no longer had hold of that thin string. Edward had severed it with his revelation, turning everything William had thought he’d known on its head. And now, he didn’t think he’d survive it.

According to his phone, it was almost eleven in the morning when William carried his packed bags, closed Robert’s room and moved to put his belongings by the front door.

He had two options. Wait until the pre-booked taxi-man arrived in another twenty-four hours to collect him or locate some service and see if he could get another sooner.

His plans faded like ash on the wind. Hanbury Manor had never been quieter since Edward left.

No, not left. There was no stopping the thoughts as they barrelled through him. You kicked him out and sent him scurrying into the night just like you did with Archie.

The weight of what happened last night pressed heavily on William, and he slumped on the last step and sat, his bags knocked over across the corridor’s floor.

Cupping his head in his hands, he tried to cry, but still no tears came.

Even his body didn’t think him worthy of the suffering, considering it was all self-inflicted.

Putting ideas of plans to vacate Hanbury to the back of his mind, William stumbled into the kitchen. He used the wall for support, his lungs aching for breath, his mind a jumble of torture.

Hanbury felt empty now Edward left. Archie too. All this time he thought it had been Robert, or maybe Teddy, lingering in the shadows of this place. Had he been wrong about that too?

There was a stale smell to the kitchen’s air, thicker than before. It clung to the back of William’s throat, making his need for a drink even stronger. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten something, but it wasn’t food he desired.

Searching cupboards, he threw every one open in search of more wine.

Literally anything he could find to drown out his internal agony.

A fat fly assaulted him, springing off one of the cupboards in a buzz of wings.

William swatted it away, noticing another creeping across the stone floor just by his feet.

He hoped they found what they were looking for because William certainly didn’t.

There was nothing to drink, not even a dribble of wine in the bottom of one of the empty bottles.

That didn’t stop him from tipping one back, tongue lapping at the sticky rim just to feed his need.

His desperation planted the idea of him walking into Stonewell, heading to that pub and drinking the bar dry.

At least in town he could arrange suitable travel back to London, putting this place and its memories far behind him.

Except it was no longer the memories that haunted him. It was the truth of a future – the one Archie had wanted to share with William – that tore at the broken pieces of his heart, separating them further.

Everywhere he looked, he saw Edward. That hurt him more than he thought it could, but not in the way he hoped. William wished he could hate Edward, but that emotion wasn’t what dredged up from the ocean of grief inside him. In truth, William couldn’t even blame Edward for what had happened.

There was only one person to blame, and that was himself.

A hard pill to swallow unless he found enough alcohol to help force that fucking pill deep down.

Above the stillness of Hanbury Manor, William’s ears pricked to a rumbling sound.

His head snapped up to the outside of the house to the location of the noise.

It was the groan of an engine, a noise William was all too familiar with since living in a city like London.

He heard the crunch of gravel beneath tyres, but it was distant, as if it was moving away from him.

Edward. Was it him? He was sure he heard a car last night, so why was there another one? Unless he was back.

Hope and trepidation congealed into something messy inside of William.

Forgotten was the desire for drink, or even clear decision-making. William stumbled back out of the kitchen, racing towards the front door. He left the smell of rot in the air and the flies to continue their search for sustenance.

This manor belonged to them now.

William’s hands trembled as he unlocked the front door, throwing it wide.

He flung himself into the crisp air, lighter now that the storm had passed.

Far in the distance, down the long stretch of driveway, William saw what he expected – a car, and it was driving away.

The gravel was still wet from the rain, his Doc Martins splashing through puddles.

He was prepared to scream for Edward to stop, begging him to return.

Because at least Edward had answers, Edward could feed William’s greedy and desperate need to know more about Archie and his last days.

Yes, he’d wanted him gone. Perhaps this reaction wouldn’t have happened if Edward had driven away last night.

But now, William began to run, waving his arms above him and shouting until his throat ached.

Finally, the tears came back again. William was blinded by the sheer volume of them, and the sun’s glare cutting through wisps of clouds.

He didn’t notice the slight bow in the ground until his foot caught it, and he went down.

The car was really gone this time – Edward with it.

William caught himself on all fours, his back arching as he panted and sobbed. His fingers dug into the sopping ground, the pain of small stones biting his palms almost pleasant. At least he felt something other than the hollow agony inside of him.

“Come back!” he yelled, throwing handfuls of stones away from him like a child amid a tantrum. “Edward, please. I changed my mind. Don’t leave me!”

But he was too late to retract his command from last night. The car was so small in the distance it looked like a toy. Then, it turned off the long road lined with towering trees and disappeared for good.

William Thorn was cursed to make decisions that he’d regret.

He regretted letting jealousy cloud his judgement, making him believe that Archie was having an affair with him.

He allowed himself to kick him out before he could even explain himself.

And, with Edward, he’d done the same. In a fit of uncontrolled emotion, he’d kicked him out, told him to leave and, of course, Edward listened.

He owed William nothing. And the reality of that was so destructive he knew he’d have to claw his way back into the manor if he ever wanted to move.

Time didn’t matter in a place like Hanbury.

William could’ve knelt on the ground for minutes or hours; he couldn’t tell and didn’t even care to figure it out.

He kept his gaze levelled on the driveway.

He wasn’t one to pray, but in the moments after Edward left, William found himself with hands clutched, pleading to the potential of a big man in the sky to shift the universe in his favour.

He should’ve known better than to waste time on such idle practices. William quickly remembered why faith never interested him when the car never came back, his prayers forever unanswered.

After a while, when his tears dried to sticky rivers on his cheeks and his knees were so cold from the puddle soaking through his cord trousers, William found the energy to get up. A chill wore into his bones, so much so that his teeth began to chatter.

He’d just turned his back on the driveway, facing Hanbury again, dreading having to go back inside alone, when the sun glinted over something metal at his side. Turning his attention down a few feet to the side of where he’d been knelt, William’s eyes landed on something impossible.

Impossible because he’d just watched the car drive away.

Impossible because Edward would’ve found these very things to make that possible.

But there, resting on the ground where William had thrown them last night, were Edward’s car keys. He knew they belonged to him because of the acorn key ring hanging off from the chain.

William picked them up, fingers numb, the tips so pale and numb he was surprised they hadn’t fallen off. If Edward had never found his car keys, then how did he drive away? Unless… it was never Edward he’d just watched leave Hanbury.

Then who had he just seen?

Dread scored its nail down William’s spine, flaying flesh wide open, exposing bone. His gaze snapped from Hanbury back around the surrounding view, searching for answers. Something drove him to press the button on the keys as if that would answer his question.

And he was sure, somewhere close enough to hear, Edward caught the beep of a car unlocking.