Page 24 of Unlikable

The banquet is going awkwardly and not at all the way I would have liked.

An extra table had been added to the already long dining table. Dinner lasted three hours. Three hours during which I wanted to escape from the room all the time. After dinner, we moved to the reception room adjacent to the dining room, a room with soft seats, sofas and a fireplace. Then I slipped away.

And now I am standing on the balcony, recovering from the stares, the overly cheerful conversations, as if it is all so fun and wonderful that Felix and I are engaged.

In the eyes of our guests, of course, it is.

But I know better. For me, it has now become agony. How can I keep pretending I think this is all so great when my heart is being torn apart more by the day?

Only two of the five “friends” I invited came, and for my part, they didn’t have to. Charlotte and Christina only have eyes for Felix and his friends. If I am not mistaken, Charlotte is even trying to flirt with my fiancé. Constantly flashing her long eyelashes at him, laughing at everything that comes out of his mouth. I wisely kept my mouth shut because I’m not going to play the jealous woman. I won’t give her that satisfaction.

I ask myself why I invited those two in the first place. Not a meaningful word for me has yet come out of their mouths. Only a greeting, because they had to, because that’s polite.

Maybe I wanted to prove myself to Felix. Show that I have friends, that the tea club is not just a wasted time of my life.

Which it overwhelmingly is. I don’t even like tea.

Inside, cheerful conversations continue. People talk to each other. Speculating about what the future will look like for Felix and me. I wonder what Felix thinks about all this. Whether he finds this uncomfortable or entertaining.

Below me, the garden doors are opened and a group of guests walk out, busily chatting over a glass of wine or whisky. I take a step back so they can’t see me if they were to look up, but they don’t. They are too busy chatting with each other to even realise that the fiancée is standing on the balcony feeling sorry for herself.

The group walks towards the maze at the back of the garden. I watch them until they are almost invisible, only their silhouettes are still lit by the burning torches.

“Eleonora,” I hear Everett say my name.

When I turn around, he looks at me questioningly. His forehead is slightly furrowed, as if he is worried about me. If he is, he does not otherwise show it.

“What are you doing here?” I ask him, not unkindly.

“What are you doing here?” he returns my question. “Running away from your own banquet?”

I shrug.

“Anyway,” he continues, holding the balcony door and pulling it open a little more, as an invitation. “Father asked me to fetch you. The guests are extremely curious about your violin playing.”

I feel a knot forming in my stomach. “The guests have just walked to the maze.”

“Just to get some fresh air. They will be back soon, and then Father would like you to entertain the guests with your music.”

“Everett…”

“I am just the messenger.” He laughs now. “Show them what you can do, little sister. This is your party.”

I look at him sternly, but I know as well as he does that if Father asks something of me, I will do it, because I am loyal.

The perfect daughter.

Everett holds out his arm to me, an exhortation to come with him. I heave out a nervous sigh, trying to suppress my fears and emotions, then I hook my arm through his.

The corridors are empty. When we are downstairs, we hear the happy voices of the guests still inside. I hear Felix say something, followed by the exaggerated laughter of the ladies present.

In the last corridor adjoining the reception room, we bump into Cecile. In her arms, she carries my violin case. She looks a little dazed, and when she catches sight of me, her face twitches.

“Are you all right?” I ask her as I take the violin case from her. She nods briefly and makes to walk away. On impulse, I put my hand on her shoulder. “Cecile?”

“My services are needed elsewhere,” she says simply. “Have fun, Miss Prime.” She sounds tired and…not quite like herself. I let go of her shoulder and watch her walk away from me.

“That was…strange,” Everett concludes.

“It was indeed, brother,” I mutter, staring at the end of the corridor where Cecile turns a corner and disappears from view.

I don’t have much time to dwell on Cecile’s strange behaviour because behind us the voices of the people who had walked out can be heard. They are back.

Everett follows me into the room, where we walk to the fireplace where Father is standing talking to Theodor. Father, too, seems to be upset. He has a deep frown on his forehead, and his whole demeanour betrays that he is uncomfortable.

Theodor, on the contrary, seems to be frustrated. He sighs excessively and draws irritated looks when Father opens his mouth.

The two fathers hardly notice us when we join them.

The people who just walked behind us also enter the room. Their cheerful chatter fills the room, causing the other guests to look up and also notice Everett and me. I see Felix standing next to a seat, surrounded by his friends and my two friends. When he also looks up, his eyes immediately find mine.

We have not spoken a word to each other since he returned from Canterbury. We did have the chance, like just now at the banquet, where we sat directly opposite each other. However, when he looked at me, I looked away. Too scared of the pain in my heart. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, truly anyone, this pain, this stabbing. This feeling of longing. Knowing that you will only be hurt if you cherish even a tiny bit of hope.

Friends.

“I am ending this discussion, Theodor,” I hear Father say wearily. “I’m not selling my estate. Even if you have good intentions. The fact that the house is being demolished is bad enough for me.”

“Why do you want the estate?” Everett asks, boldly inserting himself into the conversation.

Theodor, who had just given Father another angry look, now directs it at Everett. “It will make everything much easier. If I’m the owner, I won’t have to contact an intermediary every time to do the renovation—”

“What nonsense,” Everett cuts him off. I am startled by his reaction.

“Everett,” Father warns him sternly. “Apologise. That’s no way to talk to your host.”

I see Everett looking at Theodor, who stares at him sternly and seems to challenge him with his gaze. Something is not right about him. In the beginning, when I got to know him, he was such a kind and warm man. Now…now my conscience is placing big warning signs over his head.

As Everett continues to keep his lips rigidly together, Theodor begins to chuckle. “Like father, like son. Stubborn and stubborn.” He taps my brother on the shoulder. “It doesn’t matter, son. You can’t help it, having grown up with this example.” He looks at Father. “It’s a character trait. I won’t think too much of it.”

Father’s eyes narrow to slits, but he says nothing to defend himself. I feel myself getting hot. My fingers bore into the violin case, leaving nail marks in the leather. “Take that back,” I whisper with my jaws clenched together.

“Excuse me, love?” asks Theodor. He looks at me confused, as if he only now realises I’m there too. “Did you say something?”

Everett puts his hand on my arm to stop me. I am about to give this man an entire tirade when Felix suddenly intervenes.

Suddenly I feel all my tension disappear, like snow in the sun.

He turns his back to his father and puts his hand over mine, still trying to squeeze my suitcase. “Are you going to play for us?”

I look at him, study his face. His eyes seem to speak volumes. As if he sensed something was going on and has now come to rescue me from this atmosphere.

“That seems like an excellent plan,” Dad replies in my stead. He puts his hand on my lower back and gives me a push towards Felix so that I almost bump into him.

Felix clears his throat loudly, silencing the room.

“Thank you again for coming,” Felix begins his speech. As I look down at the violin case in my hands, he confidently looks around at the guests. “My fiancée and I are grateful for the support and good wishes we have received from all of you. To thank you, Miss Prime is going to play a piece for you on her violin.” He puts his hand on my back, “Enjoy.”

And then he walks away from me. As do Father, Theodor and Everett. They walk towards the guests, forming a semicircle, like a moon, around me. Behind me, I feel the heat of the burning fire warm my body. The silence that falls is confrontational and oppressive. I don’t allow myself time to dwell too long on my worsening nerves. So I quickly put my case on the table next to the fireplace, click it open and pull out my violin and bow.

I put my fingers on the neck of the instrument where the fingerboard is, rest my chin on the chin piece and, without even thinking about what I am going to play, I just start. At first it still sounds a bit shrill and raw, and I seem to have briefly forgotten how to play the violin again. Then my fingers take off as if by themselves.

It is one of Mozart’s most famous pieces, and once I play it, I don’t understand why I worried about it so much. When I play the violin, my worries fade into the background. Then it’s just me and the instrument.

Throughout the piece, I keep my eyes closed, concentrating and enjoying the sounds I create. It’s a long piece, almost half an hour, but I’m not going to bore my guests for that long. I round it off after ten minutes to a beautiful end, and when I take the bow off the strings, open my eyes and look around me, I see only one person.

I know there are several people in the room, I can see them, but no longer clearly, no longer sharp. The only person who is clear is Felix. He is standing behind my two friends. His arms are folded behind his back, his lips part slightly. He holds my gaze and seems to have no intention of letting it go.

A smattering of applause sounds in the room. I hear things like “that was wonderful” and “I’m rendered silent”. Does that do anything to me? Normally it does. However, I am only curious about one person’s opinion and that is my fiancé’s.

We are still looking at each other.

The guests are engaging in conversation again, sipping their wine and whisky and obviously enjoying the evening. I realise again where I am when Everett puts his hand on my shoulder.

“Sorry to disturb your evening, sister dear, but Father and Theodor have left,” he informs anxiously. “Put your violin back in the case; I think we should go.”

I blink my eyes a few times to understand what he is asking of me. “You want me to leave the banquet? My own banquet?”

Everett tightens his grip on my shoulder. It’s even starting to hurt a little. “It didn’t look good. Didn’t you get that?”

Before I can reply, Jonathan joins us. “They left separately,” he says. He sounds neutral, but his clenched jaws tell something else.

“What on earth happened?” I ask, perplexed.

“They got into a quarrel during your violin playing,” Everett explains, slightly softer this time, because people are starting to look at us. “Father got a kind of haze before his eyes when he left the room. I’ve never seen him like that before. At least, not since mother…” He shakes his head. “I have no idea where they are going, but I have a gut feeling that we should follow them.”

“They are two grown men, brother,” I remind him. I put my violin in the case and then put it back on the small table. “It’s probably nothing.” As I say it, I know I’m only fooling myself. I don’t want to leave the banquet, not anymore. The look I exchanged with Felix felt so good, so intimate. I just want to be with him, here…at our party.

I am so selfish.

Suddenly, Felix is in front of me. “Don’t go,” he says.

My brother snorted. “We are going.”

Felix turns to Everett. He is two inches smaller than my brother but seems to tower over him at the moment by the menacing stance he adopts. “Keep out of it, Mr Prime. My fiancée is staying here and so are you.”

“Felix,” Jonathan tries to calm the situation. “This is not the right place for this—”

Before Jonathan can finish his sentence, Everett grabs my hand and pulls me out of the room with him. The guests watch us curiously.

“Eleonora!” Felix calls after me. I cast a glance over my shoulder and watch him give chase.

In the corridor, I pull my hand free from Everett’s and remain standing in despair. “I want to hear what he has to say,” I say in a trembling voice.

Everett turns red in the face. “We have to go now, sis.”

Felix and Jonathan are now standing next to us again. Jonathan casts Everett an apologetic look.

“We should not interfere in our fathers’ affairs,” Felix says coldly. I haven’t heard that tone in his voice in a long time, and it reminds me again of the first time I met him. A knot forms in my stomach.

“Oh no?” responds Everett irritably. “And you are allowed to? You are allowed to be present at their conversations all the time?”

Felix straightens his shoulders. “That’s because I am involved in the renovation.”

“Nonsense. In my opinion, you don’t carry out shit.”

“Don’t speak to me like that.”

“You’ve lost my respect.” Everett crosses his arms and takes a step towards Felix. “Tell me what’s going on between our fathers. What’s really wrong with our house?”

Felix is silent.

I look from Felix to my brother and back again. Jonathan slaps his hands in front of his face.

“What did you tell him, Jonathan?” Felix asks quietly, without looking at his best friend.

“Jonathan has told me nothing but the truth,” my brother replies in Jonathan’s place.

Jonathan tries to apologise, but Felix and Everett start bickering like two toddlers. In the reception room behind us, the chatter dies away, as if the guests are trying to eavesdrop on our conversation. Jonathan seems to have realised this too, as he walks back to close the door. Standing with us again, he tries to intervene again, but with no luck.

“These dirty games you and your father are playing with our family will end immediately,” Everett says.

“You shouldn’t get involved in things you’re too stupid for, Prime.”

“You should keep your paws off my sister, Clifton. You’re just using her to get our estate.”

I feel a stab in my heart, as if someone has stuck a knife in it and spun it around three times.

The men argue further, and then I have had enough. I take a step forward so that I am between them, put my hands on their chests and push them apart with all the strength I have in me. “Enough!” I roar furiously.

My voice has also managed to reach the guests behind the door, as they, too, fall silent. The only thing I can still hear is my own breathing, rushing through my head like a storm. My chest rises and falls wildly. A strand of hair has come loose from my bun and dangles in front of my face. I close my eyes and withdraw my hands. When I open my eyes again, I take a step back to look at Felix.

“Tell me the truth, Felix,” I ask him in a trembling voice.

He looks at me. He seems nervous, which makes me even more afraid of his answer.

An answer I don’t really want to hear at all.

“Years ago, your grandfather, your father’s father, won his estate in a gambling game with my grandfather.” He tells it as if he were reciting a bedtime story. Quiet and controlled, but his voice quavers slightly. “Your great-grandfather used to gamble everything. His money, his things, even his wife.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do this here,” Jonathan tries to stop his friend.

“Yes,” Felix says without releasing my gaze. “Eleonora and her brother want to know the truth.”

Jonathan silently walks back to the door and stays there, like some kind of guard dog who dare not contradict his master.

“My grandfather was generous enough to give his best friend another chance by putting his own estate on the line. This time he lost. Your grandfather had essentially nothing to gain because it was an empty estate. However, things turned out differently.” Felix looks at Everett. “He found gold.”

“From the Iron Age,” Everett adds, as if he already knows this story. “Apparently there was a fort on the land at that time.”

“And your grandfather used the gold to build the house and pay off his debts,” Felix continued. “Our family never made a fuss about it. We granted it to the Primes. However, when my grandfather was facing bankruptcy, he could not count on any help. We were left to our own devices.”

“You came out on top,” Everett responds gruffly.

“We worked very hard for that too.”

“Your family worked hard for it. Not you.”

Felix looks at Everett as if he is going to pull all the hair out of his head.

“So everything turned out all right after all?” I ask quickly.

They are silent.

“Felix?” I urge.

Finally, he turns back to me. His eyes get even harder than they were already. “No, Eleonora. It’s not.”

Everett snorts humourlessly. “They are on the verge of bankruptcy.”

Felix stiffens. “How do you know…” Then he looks at Jonathan, who has his eyes on his feet. “You had no right, Jonathan. How could you—”

“So you used me to get our money?” I interrupt him. By now my cheeks have become moist. My voice is hoarse. It feels like the imaginary knife is stabbed into my heart again and again. As everything slowly begins to sink in, I feel ashamed. I am ashamed that I have been so stupid. That I had hoped he was going to love me, that he liked me. That this whole wedding plan of his, even though I knew there were other intentions, still came from a good heart, to help each other. To help me.

“Tell her about the house,” Everett urges when Felix doesn’t respond to my last question. “How bad it is.”

Felix is silent.

“The inspector who came to examine our estate was sent by Theodor Clifton. No renovation is needed, sister.” Everett clamps his jaws together. “Never was. It was just an excuse to get Father here so Theodor could convince him to sell the estate to him. When that failed, he arranged for a marriage between you and Felix so the money wouldn’t go to waste, but that wasn’t enough, was it, Felix?”

I feel a sharp pain forming in my palms. My nails press so hard into my own flesh that it begins to bleed. “You’re disgusting, Felix Clifton.”

“Eleonora,” Felix says softly. His voice breaks.

I look at him. I don’t care how red and swollen my eyes are. I no longer care that he sees my tears. I pull the ring off my finger and drop it on the floor in front of Felix. The carpet cushions the fall, but the gesture says enough.

Felix looks at it, and I see how his lips part, ready to say something. However, nothing comes out of his mouth. He looks at me again, his gaze tortured, distraught.

The fact that even now I want to put my arms around him, now that I know what he did, what he intended to do, makes me even sadder. Because it means I haven’t learnt anything yet. That I am still that gullible simpleton.

He drops to his knees, picks up the ring from the floor and gets back up. “Put it on, please. Think of your reputation.”

The world seems to sink beneath my feet on hearing his last sentence. “How dare you?”

“I didn’t mean it like that…I…” He shakes his head. “Please. I beg you. It wasn’t all a game to me. Not anymore, at least.”

“You were the one making fun of me all this time for caring too much about my reputation , remember?” My sadness begins to give way to anger, and I cannot bear to look at him any longer. My eyes start getting moist again. I turn to Everett. “We’re leaving.”

My brother nods, grabs my hand and then we walk away. Behind me, I hear Felix utter a frustrated cry, followed by Jonathan’s soothing voice. They don’t bother following us, and I’m glad of that.

Every step I take further away from Felix feels like redemption and at the same time like agony. Meanwhile, I let my tears flow. I cry soundlessly, and Everett lets me.

We make a quick stop at my room. There, I put on my cloak and gloves to ward off the cold from outside. When I want to walk back to the corridor, however, I notice something.

The book.

On my locker is not the book I got from Felix, but another book. Old and worn. It is open, as if someone has just read in it. I look around, scan the room for things that shouldn’t be here, but I see nothing. When I close the book and see the cover, I am only more confused.

Frankenstein .

Maybe Cecile is reading this book.

But Cecile cannot read.

“Sis?” I hear Everett call out to me from the corridor. “We have to hurry.”

“I’m coming,” I respond, my voice still hoarse. I leave the book for what it is, look around the room one more time and then walk quickly up the corridor. When I close the door behind me, it feels like I have run a marathon.

“I’ve asked a chambermaid to have a carriage ready for us,” Everett tells me as we walk at breakneck speed down the corridor, heading downstairs. “Then we can leave right away.”

I nod, as nothing more comes out at the moment.

On the way down, we meet a couple of servants. They are busy decorating the house for the festive months ahead. Pine trees are put into position and decorated. Poinsettias are attached to the curtains. The servants and chambermaids at work give us confused looks as we pass them.

“Didn’t they have a banquet?” I hear one ask another.

“Clementine had to arrange a carriage for Mr Prime, perhaps an evening ride?”

We walk down the stairs and rush to the double front door. It is open and currently being decorated as well. Two large wreaths are fixed on the wood.

The carriage is ready, right outside the door. As Everett and I walk out, someone excessively loudly clears her throat.

“Walking away from your own banquet, milady. Is that wise?” It’s Mrs Jones.

“Not now, Mrs Jones,” Everett responds for me. “We’re in a hurry.”

Mrs Jones raises an eyebrow. “You are not allowed to leave. Your father will twist my neck if he finds out Miss Prime ran away from her own banquet.”

“That’s a risk we’re happy to take.” Everett squeezes my hand a little more firmly and then pulls me along again.

“Milady!” Mrs Jones comes after us as quickly as her legs allow. Her heels make clacking sounds on the marble stairs. “You cannot go! Stay!” She is silent for a moment, probably to catch her breath. “Please. Stay.”

I’ve never heard her like this before, begging. Gemma Jones never begs.

Still, we walk on, and it is not until Everett has helped me into the carriage that Mrs Jones’s voice dies away. Everett does not get in yet but walks to the coachman who will drive our carriage. I hear him hurriedly deliberating. A moment later, he gets in.

I look out the window and see Mrs Jones standing with her hands in her hair, watching us. A knot forms in my stomach. “When we come back, we have to apologise,” I say, sliding the curtain in front of the window so I don’t have to look out. Outside, the coachman urges the horses onwards, after which the carriage starts moving with a hitch.

I get no answer from my brother. When I turn to him to gauge his reaction, I look straight into Felix’s face. He is sitting opposite us. His forehead red and sweaty, as if he has been running. How did I not see him sitting there?

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t throw you out of the carriage,” my brother says grimly.

Felix looks at us and then leans his head back against the sofa. He takes a deep breath and then says, “Because I’m on your side.”