Page 32 of Unlikable

“I was just about to call you,” is the first thing Father says when I walk into his study to bring him his lemon tea. He is sitting on his seat behind his desk, slamming shut the newspaper he has been reading. His desk is a big mess. For the past few days, he has been pulling all his notes out of cupboards and going through them, hoping to find out what kind of man he has been over the past few years.

When I see him sitting like this, obviously getting older in the weeks he has spent in bed since the accident, it is as if we never left. As if he has been sitting here in his study all this time.

But he is not the same. His memory has not improved, and he still has occasional panic attacks. Still, since we got back to Canterbury, he has become better at interacting. He sleeps more peacefully, and despite the fact that he still often asks about Mother, he is starting to recognise me and Everett again. Well…he recognises us by sight. He still sometimes forgets that we are his children.

“What do you need me for, Father ?” I ask him with a smile as I put the tea in front of him.

He nods at the newspaper and takes the cup from the saucer. “The front page. More is now known about the identity of that Junior R. Do you want to read it?”

Since Father’s amnesia, he has forgotten that he never liked it when I read anything other than piano notes. “No, thank you. I don’t think I want to know what’s being written.”

And I don’t. Since that one night, the night I lost my best friend and narrowly escaped death, I have decided that I need to distance myself from news and situations that make me grim. I am alive. Father is still alive. Everett and Jonathan are still alive. Felix is still alive. That’s all that matters, notwithstanding that I mourn about Cecile’s death.

I expect to see Jonathan and Everett again this week. They are travelling together, exploring the world. Everett initially refused to go, afraid of leaving me alone after everything that happened. However, I assured him that it would be just right for me. Acclimatising again in Canterbury, focusing completely on Father, spending time together. Besides, I want my brother to have time alone with Jonathan, so he can rediscover himself, get everything out.

I have been running the house for almost four months now. There is no longer a Mrs Jones to do that for me. Everett insisted on hiring someone else to do that job, but I didn’t want that. I wanted to do it. I want to look after this house, the place that used to hold so much love and that brought a sense of happiness to everyone who set foot across the threshold here.

We were initially not allowed by the authorities to leave. We were held for two days, but when we had explained the situation for the umpteenth time, they saw Father’s condition and appreciated what I had been through. We were given permission to leave, on condition that if they needed us, we would be available.

They never contacted us again.

It was abundantly clear that I needed to get back to Canterbury. Leaving Felix behind hurt, but the longing for home had become so great that every second I was not in Canterbury was gnawing at me more and more.

Because Theodor Clifton had made such a mess of the financial situation and had loose ends here and there, Felix decided to stay in Kennington until he sorted everything out nicely. He let the servants go and has been sitting alone for four months now in that big, dark house through which evil has wandered without mercy. The place where his mother died, the place where his father was buried. The place where Junior R left his footprint.

He writes to me four times a week. Sometimes a letter he wrote later arrives earlier, but it doesn’t matter. It does me good when I read his words, knowing he is fine. Knowing that one day he will be at my door.

“What time will Mary be back from her tea club?” Father asks me with a smile, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“In the afternoon,” I tell him cheerfully.

Father nods and sips his tea again.

I have learnt that it is easier to talk to him about Mother as if she is still there. In half an hour, he will have forgotten he asked and will again ask when she is back from town. It keeps her memory alive, as if she is still there.

I apologise to Father, walk back to the corridor and set the maids to work. In the afternoon, the mail arrives and, recognising Felix’s handwriting, I retreat to my bedroom to read the letter silently.

· · ·

Five days later, I am sitting at the front of the garden, under the big oak tree whose leaves are slowly beginning to grow again and which protects Cecile’s grave. Digging her grave was not easy. The ground was frozen and hard as stone. I had turned down all offers of help. I wanted to do it myself. Cecile was my friend, and I would give her a dignified resting place.

For the time of year, it is a pleasant day. The sun shines brightly and promisingly through the foliage, reflecting its light on the book I am reading.

Frankenstein is almost finished, and despite reading it with conflicting feelings, I find my peace at the idea of getting to know my half-brother better this way. The things he did were terrible, and I still lie awake at night because of them, but the curiosity about him as a person has only grown. I want to understand why he was the way he was, what his motives were. Unfortunately, although maybe it’s for the best, this book only brings me fiction.

I look up from the book when I hear voices approaching. The sun hangs low in the sky, so I only see their silhouettes at first. Two men, hand in hand, approach me smiling. I stand up, put the book aside and start running.

My brother runs towards me, takes me in his arms and spins me around twice before closing me in a firm embrace.

Tears roll down my cheeks as he holds me out in front of him and immediately starts telling me about his trip. Jonathan tells him to calm down and pushes him aside to give me a welcoming embrace too.

“I want to hear everything!” I chuckle as the two of them walk with me towards the house. “Leave nothing out.”

“I really have so much to tell you, sister dear.” Everett smiles, and when he looks at Jonathan, his face glows with happiness. The two exchange a look and start laughing.

Do I want to know what this is about?

“How is Philip?” Jonathan asks me with genuine interest.

“Better,” I admit. “Step by step.”

“I missed the old man,” my brother sighs.

“Respect for your father, Everett!” I bump him correctively against his shoulder and start laughing again.

Everett rolls his eyes but then answers my smile. When we reach the front door and Jonathan walks in ahead, Everett puts a hand on my arm. “Have you had any…trouble with anything?”

“Not as much as in the beginning,” I admit quietly.

My brother briefly rubs his thumb over my skin and then nods understandingly. “Hopefully it will be over soon.”

“It won’t be long now.”

That one night in the maze, the moment I realised Nicholas’s blood would be my only salvation, I knew what was coming. It was the nastiest thing I had ever done in my life. Immediately I felt better, but ever since that one night, ever since I know what it feels like to taste blood on your tongue, I have suffered from vomiting and headaches. Sometimes I feel as nasty again as when Unlikable was injected into me. In the beginning, it lasted for three days. Now it sometimes lasts for less than an hour. Then I feel weak and nauseous and rotten to the core. I doubt whether that will ever go away, but it is getting less, and I am still here to take care of my father and brother, which is all that matters. If Cecile has taught me anything, it is to be brave. Even at your most vulnerable moment, you have to show strength, and that is something I have been holding on to since that one night.

Everett gives me an encouraging smile. “Fortunately, because you have years to go, sister dear. I want to be an uncle.”

I feel my face getting hot. “Is taking it easy an option too?”

“Of course.” Just when I think he is dropping the subject, he continues with it anyway, like the irritating brother he is. “You never know what you’re going to bring into the world with that fool of a Clifton.” He chuckles. “They’ll be pictures of children, I won’t lie about that, but knowing you, they’ll be bloody headstrong.”

“Did you come back from your trip just to insult me?” I do my best to hold back my laughter and cross my arms defensively.

“Maybe.” He rubs my head, making my hair stand up in all directions. “Who knows, maybe your children will have children too. They might experience journeys, on a big ship, for instance. Cross the Atlantic.”

“I’d rather keep them at home,” I protest.

“Or save the world as part of some secret organisation.”

“How do you think—”

“Or they could immigrate to Asia and marry a king.”

“Everett, enough!”

“Or…” He looks at me from under his eyelashes. “They might live as quiet an existence as possible while driving their siblings crazy.”

“The latter would be nicest.” I heave a contented sigh.

Everett opens his mouth to say something again, but then his eyes fall on something behind me. “I’ll see you inside in a minute, sis,” he says with a faint smile. He presses a kiss to my cheek, and then he leaves me alone.

A sudden breeze blows up, bringing with it the lovely smell of grass. Satisfied, I turn around and then see what Everett had been looking at.

Or rather, whom.

His silhouette stands out sharply against the low-hanging sun. His long coat flutters around him, and he holds his top hat with one hand to prevent it from blowing off his head.

Felix Clifton takes my breath away as usual.

My eyes continue to follow him as I run at him. Slowly and then faster and faster. With every step I take, my heart starts beating harder. With every breath I blow out, I only realise how terribly I have missed him. Despite the fact that it took me the past four months to pick myself back up, every month, every week, every day, every hour, every minute and every second was heartbreaking because I was not with him.

On the lawn, under the oak tree in the garden that towers high above us, where Cecile’s warmth seems to embrace me, we meet again. He is as beautiful as I remember him, with his faint grin blossoming playfully on his face.

“Mr Clifton,” I say politely and curtsy. “To what do I owe this visit?”

Felix remains standing a metre away from me and takes off his hat. His hair has grown longer. His bright moss-green eyes gleam as he takes a step in my direction. “Miss Prime,” he starts, and all the hairs on my skin stand up straight upon hearing his voice. A sound I only now realise I have missed so much. Felix takes another step closer. “Who gave you permission to look so unforgettable?”

I look at him long and silent, unable to utter a word. Happiness floods me with every second he is in front of me. Then I open my mouth to hurl an insult at his head for being away for so long, but he is ahead of me.

“Before you start insulting me, don’t look at me like that. I know you by now.” He shakes his head, laughing. “I want to say that I have missed you and thought of you every day. Take it from me that you are special because no woman in my life has yet—”

“I don’t need to know how many women you’ve had in your life.”

“Do you have to be so stubborn?”

“Did you have to stay away for so long?”

“Did you miss me?”

And before I can stop them, tears shoot to my eyes. “So indescribably much, you fool.”

Felix smiles again. “I have something for you.” Only now do I see the suitcase in his free hand.

“Mother’s violin.”

“I had it repaired. The bow was bent, and there were scratches on it from…” He clears his throat. “It’s as good as new again.” He sets the suitcase down beside him on the grass. “And now it’s back to its rightful owner.”

I feel so much gratitude that I don’t know what to say.

Felix nervously runs a hand through his hair. “You still owe me something.”

“And that is?”

He nods at the ring on my finger. “Your hand.”

Then he bridges the final distance between us and, in the process, also takes the first step into our future. A future full of uncertainties and risks, but definitely one to fight for.