Chapter Twenty-Seven
Brann
B rann stepped out into the biting February chill, the cold air slicing through the light fabric of his t-shirt, seeping into his bones. He made his way to his van, the rhythmic thud of his footsteps echoing in the stillness of the estate grounds. The hint of rain hung heavy in the air.
Love! Oh my god! That word. Since when had he loved anyone? Other than his kids. But this wasn’t like that. This was so different and like nothing else. Kristalee hadn’t been a true love, not really. Because of his kids, he’d deliberately steered away from love for the long-term. Now he knew what love felt like alright, but there wasn’t a happy ending waiting in the wings.
As he reached the van, he sank into the driver’s seat, the door closing with a muted thud. The interior might not be the tidiest, but it was a sanctuary, a temporary reprieve from the storm inside him.
He ran a hand through his hair, niggles gnawing at his insides. Why had he let slip those three words? What kind of idiot was he? What must Ophelia think of him now? Though if she had any wits about her, she would already know how he felt. Confessing so bluntly however was a dumb move.
Leaning back against the headrest, he closed his eyes, his confession weighing on his skull like a concrete slab. He had no illusions about the reality of their situation, but that didn’t make this any easier. Pressing his fingers into his brow, he kneaded it, trying to assuage the ache.
Raindrops began to fall in a steady patter against the windscreen. He fell into a daydream where he had a magic fishing rod. He cast it out, and it came to land over three little words.
I love you.
He hooked them and reeled them back into safety, back inside him where they should have stayed. He didn’t even need to know Ophelia’s response. She didn’t have to say the words. He already knew. She’d made it so obvious. All the times she’d come searching for him, pulled him into secret places and stolen kisses. Maybe it had started as lust, as it had done for him, but latterly it was different. The desire for a physical connection burned strong, but now there was more. A need for comfort. He sought it in her and sensed it when they were together. The way she relaxed in his hold like she’d come home, and everything was ok. They dropped their barriers for each other and it was good.
Except it wasn’t.
Opening his eyes, he stared at the mansion through the rain-streaked window. She was in there. Inside a house that was bigger than the whole of Kirk Lane, where approximately ten families lived. He wouldn’t want that. It was obscene, when friends of his struggled to put food on the tables for their family. This was her life and where she had to stay. Or so she thought. Maybe he’d feel the same in her position, though it was hard to imagine. Make that impossible. He had no loyalty to places or history. Only to family and people he loved. But then, part of her mindset came from grandparents she’d loved dearly.
And there it was again. Love.
Only love wasn’t enough.
Ah, screw this nonsense . Just go back in there and finish the job you’re being paid to do. What would he say if she approached him again? Who the hell knew?
As he crossed the courtyard, his phone vibrated in his back pocket. He jogged under the cover of the huge stone doorframe and pulled it out to check it.
OPHELIA C-B: We need to talk. It’s important.
He raised an eyebrow. So he wasn’t getting off the hook easily. Great . He went straight for the stairs, ignoring the sounds of chatter and laughter coming from the drawing room. Rupert’s blustery chortle set him right on edge. Something about it was fake and blind. The man lived an outdated lifestyle and had no idea what it was like to be in the real world.
Brann returned to the attic before he replied to Ophelia.
brANN: back in the attic. Where are you? Do you want to talk now?
He’d started levering off a tricky piece of timber when he heard her voice.
‘Brann? Can you come down a moment?’
He downed his tools and lowered himself through the hatch.
‘So, what is it?’ Play this cool. Act like I tell people I love them every day. Which he did. He told Harrison and Caitlin all the time, to the point where they rolled their eyes or grumbled.
She looked away and took a deep breath, like she was steeling herself for something.
‘I’m really sorry, Brann. But you have to leave.’
‘What?’
He hadn’t expected that.
‘Sorry.’
‘Why? Is it because I said—’
‘It’s nothing to do with that. The estate is basically bankrupt. It doesn’t seem to matter what money comes in, somehow there’s always more going out. Father’s let Barbara go and now you have to go too.’
‘Ok. Whatever. But if I go this time, this is it. I can’t work like this.’
‘I know that. And you’ll get paid for what you’ve already done.’
‘By you?’
‘If I have to.’
‘But you shouldn’t have to. Your family needs a good hard kick up the backside.’
‘Are you volunteering?’
‘If it helps you, then yes. I don’t know how you stand it.’
‘Because I want more for Glenvorneth, but I can’t just throw them out. They have the right to be here, but I also can’t sit back and watch them let this place go down the drain.’
‘Why not? Live your life now. Do it for yourself. Forget everyone else. Forget the past and the future. Let this place die before it kills you.’
She sucked on her lower lip and for a moment he thought she might cry, but she mastered herself with a deep breath. ‘I can’t, Brann. It’s not who I am. This is not just about me, but my heritage, my grandparents, my future.’
‘Yeah. Ok.’ He stalked up the ladder and started throwing the tools back into the box. He was done with this place for good.