Page 70 of Watch For Me By Candlelight

‘Mmm.’ Kate sort of knew where that was coming from — but she didn’t elaborate. She shifted uncomfortably on her spot of grass, the dampness from her watery adventure soaking through her shorts.

‘I suppose you want to call it a night now?’ He didn’t seem in a hurry to move away from her, so Kate didn’t force the issue. She brought her legs up in front of her and wrapped her arms around her knees. She was damp, but she wasn’t shivering any more. The sun was low in the sky and there was still some warmth in it. At least she thought it was the sun warming her. It might have been Theo’s proximity.

‘No. I think you still have beer, don’t you?’ she asked. ‘In your van?’

‘It’s back at the museum, remember? Can you walk that far? I don’t want to hurry you if your ankle’s bothering you.’

‘It’s not bothering me,’ she said truthfully. ‘I’m just sorry you had to witness that display of idiocy.’

Theo laughed and stood up. He held his hand out and hauled her to her feet. ‘You’re a bloody good jumper. I’ll give you that.’

‘You should see my pirouettes. I’ve been told they’re pretty good too.’ As if to prove her ankle was fine, and also because she wanted to show off a little bit and rarely got the chance, she stood on tiptoe and executed a series of perfect pirouettes.

Theo clapped and shook his head in awe. ‘Incredible. I never realised. You’ve got some hidden talents, Kate.’

‘You have no idea what I get up to in my downtime,’ she said wryly; and it wasn’t exactly dancing that she meant. The image of Millie’s sweet face, ravaged by that horrible disease, would haunt her for a long time.

Chapter Twenty-Four

They were in the garden together when Tom wandered back from the wine bar looking smug and unravelled. Kate rolled her eyes and offered him the last beer as a bribe not to tell her what he had done with Jenna.

‘Have you had a good evening yourself?’ he asked as he settled on the wall.

Kate opened her mouth to say yes, they had, thanks, but Theo answered first.

‘I didn’t know Kate was such a good dancer,’ he said. ‘She’s shown me some ballet moves and had a little swim as well.’ He cast a glance at her, his eyes warm and teasing.

Tom laughed. ‘Come on, Theo, you should know by now that she’s not the angel she pretends to be. She’ll have been showing off again. Grand jetés and pirouettes was it? And you haven’t seen them before?’

‘Of course he hasn’t seen them before! I’ve never had the opportunity to show him.’

‘It does feel like I’ve known her ages, but really, she’s right,’ added Theo. ‘We only met a couple of times before this weekend and ballet’s never really factored into it.’ He looked down at her and she tried to read his face then gave up. She could read any amount of things in his eyes — his quite perfect eyes. It was scary what she could read in them, to be honest.

‘Then you’re lucky you’ve escaped her showing-off for this long.’ Tom raised the bottle at Kate and winked, then he smoothly moved the conversation on to horses, drawing Theo into it, quite naturally, as if they too had known each other for years.

For decades.

For more than a century?

She shivered.

Maybe they had.

* * *

Monday

Thanks to all the wine and the beer and the heat, Kate went straight to sleep and she didn’t budge all night long. She couldn’t recall any odd dreams the next day when she woke. Instead, she listened sleepily to the early morning creaks and groans of the old cottages, their usual greeting to each other; a bunch of old friends waking up and stretching and nodding good morning.

There was a steady snoring coming through the bedroom wall; her brother, of course. They’d both walked Theo halfway back to the campsite and subsequently fell into bed shattered. She wondered if Tom would try to beat a hasty retreat before Jenna wandered in, but she had a feeling they’d just greet each other warmly and move on. It was a skill Kate thought they both possessed. The idea of Tom with a woman brought her mind back to Millie and her love for Charles.

After that, Kate couldn’t sleep any more. She needed to get to that Hall and she needed to do something. But first, she went over to her computer and pulled up the website she had found the 1885 newspaper on. She pressed a few buttons and found a ‘search’ facility; then typed in the name SS Victoria.

Almost immediately, the digitised image of the local newspaper came up, and she knew without a doubt it was the one Cat’s uncle had received that awful day. She read the article quickly, scanning it for a description of any survivors, hoping that Charles and Cat’s uncle had simply misinterpreted it. But it was there, in faintly pixelated black and white: a passenger list from the doomed vessel, which sank, according the paper, on 5th July, 1885. And one name stood out beyond the rest: William Haddon. Her eyes filled with tears and she wiped them away quickly. It wouldn’t do for Tom to see her sobbing over breakfast. She took a last look at the image and touched the screen gently with her forefinger, tracing his name, before closing the laptop down. It had happened then. It was real.

Tom trailed into the kitchen as she was boiling up the kettle for her second coffee, by which time she felt a little more human and was more in control of her emotions.

‘Good night, Katie?’ Her brother leaned against the bench as she grabbed another cup down from the cupboard for him.