Chapter 33
33
As always, Seth was late to join her at night, particularly given the season. Olivia knew that it was when the land and the gardens needed the most attention. Like a needy child, just before they were put to bed – everything had to be tidied away and tucked in for the winter.
He asked how she was and, grateful for a listening ear, she told him.
‘Oh, one of those days, you know, when you all but get a marriage proposal from a very unexpected quarter, and an invitation to live in London, with the idea that experiencing the nightclubs, cocktails and the music will somehow make the misery of the last four years go away.’
Silence.
She’d been trying to make light of both offers but quickly realised that it was unfair to talk of these things to a man who she knew had feelings for her, even though there was nothing they could do to be together.
‘I hadn’t thought that you’d be so in demand, but of course you’re as eligible as me – more so. However, you’re not tied to a place of work, as I am, but a lady of leisure, with a whole world of experiences open to you. Whereas I’m just a working man, grateful for a job.’
It seemed to Olivia that their difference in class was still preying on Seth’s mind. It hadn’t mattered before the war when they’d been two friends keeping each other’s spirits up, and she thought it a shame that society divided people so.
‘It was unkind of me to be so flippant but I’m not about to marry anyone. You know how I feel about you.’
‘Ah, but if I stepped through the wall now and fell to one knee, would you say yes to me? A member of Sir Hugo’s staff, the summit of whose ambition is to have regular articles published in the Gardener’s Chronicle , and achieve the dizzying heights of head gardener at Merriford, with an eye on the tied cottage?’
‘Of course I would. Do you not know me at all? Did you not listen to my daydreams as a child? Yes, there were princes and castles, but also ordinary people achieving extraordinary things. Not everyone’s happy ever after is about riches; sometimes, it is completing a journey, finding love, becoming part of a family or defeating an enemy.’
How she hated these moments when she couldn’t see his face to work out what was going on in his mind, but it wasn’t her explanation of fairy tales that he focused on.
‘ You’d marry me ?’ His tone was incredulous.
‘In a heartbeat.’
‘Why?’
She didn’t even have to think about her answer. The words came tumbling from her lips.
‘You have a kind soul, and never once overlooked or undervalued Benji when he was younger. You’re passionate about the things you love and always looking to educate yourself further. You treat me as an equal, value my opinions and encourage my passions. Many men don’t like the thought of independent women, yet you’ve always supported my plans to be exactly that. We share a sense of humour that was apparent even when you were at your lowest ebb. You listen to my ideas for wild adventures and I know you would travel with me anywhere I wanted to go, if only in the hope of learning about new species of plants,’ she teased. ‘And, if truth be told, because you also happen to be quite easy on the eye – even Lady Fairchild admitted to that.’
He snorted at the last piece of information. ‘And yet, she let me go…’
Olivia said nothing. His good looks had been part of the problem.
‘A willingness to travel the world and a pleasing face. I see.’ He chuckled to himself.
‘But I’ve had an opportunity to interact with you in the real world, and you have barely exchanged a few words with me,’ she pointed out. ‘I should be questioning why you would want to propose in the first place?’
‘Oh, I’m purely attracted to the money,’ he said. The bed squeaked as he adjusted his position and she could just imagine the huge grin across his face. ‘You’ll inherit when you come of age, which I understand is imminently, and I can put my feet up and be a kept man.’
His answer proved her point about the sense of humour, if nothing else.
She pulled back the cotton bedcover and climbed into bed, resting her head on the soft, feather pillow and positioning herself to face the bricks. The room was still, save the ticking of her small bedside clock, and the moonlight had gone, doubtless obscured by cloud.
‘What are you doing now?’ he asked.
‘Facing the wall and imagining you next to me.’
‘I am next to you. We’ve all but shared a bed for years.’
Another silence.
‘To hell with this.’ Seth’s bed squeaked and she heard his feet hit the floorboards with a thump. ‘I need to see you, to hold you in my arms. I’m coming through.’
‘You’re what?’ She sat bolt upright.
‘If our voices are travelling through the wall, why can’t we?’
‘Erm, because we’ve firmly established that we can’t be together. Neither of us has the ability to float through solid brick, despite our rash assumptions of years ago, as we are not spirits of the departed. We tried to meet and it wasn’t possible.’
‘Then I’ll remove the damn bricks. They’re the only barrier to us being together.’
Olivia’s heart was both panicked and thrilled by his suggestion. She felt there was some logic to what he was saying; if sound could pass from one room to the other, why couldn’t they?
Was this the answer? Breaking down the wall?
‘If I chisel the mortar out, I can push one through. Don’t move.’
He disappeared for a few minutes, she assumed in search of the appropriate tools. When he returned, he worked quickly and she could hear every whack of his hammer, although, interestingly, she couldn’t feel any vibrations. He eventually informed her that he’d loosened a brick sufficiently to remove it, and warned her to stand well back. She grabbed one end of the iron bedstead and swung her bed out so that it no longer sat against the wall. If he was coming through, she wanted to clear a path for him.
‘If I hit the brick hard enough, it should shoot through into your room,’ he said and there was a loud thump.
Nothing.
‘Where are you?’ The frustration in his voice was evident.
‘I’m here.’
‘I should be able to see you. I don’t understand. Can you see my hand?’
The wall hadn’t changed. There was no missing brick, no wiggling fingers. Nothing. Disappointment flooded her heart.
‘Where the hell are you?’ He was angry now and as frustrated as her. ‘This can’t be!’ It was almost a shout. ‘I won’t have it. Stand well back,’ he instructed. ‘I can’t have you hit by flying masonry. I’ve got a sledgehammer and will destroy the whole damn tower if that’s what it takes to get to you.’
She reassured him that she was safely out of harm’s way. The first crack of the sledgehammer made a deafening sound but she saw nothing, not even the flutter of disturbed dust, which she would have expected even had his first swing been gentle – and it was far from that.
With each thud, she heard him let out a ferocious growl, but the wall in front of her didn’t change. There was an almighty crash, which contrasted deeply with the eerie silence that followed.
‘How can this be? I’ve made a three-foot-wide hole in the damn wall and you aren’t there.’
She moved closer. ‘But I am. I’m standing before you.’
‘Then there is nothing for it but to step through. Keep talking to me and I’ll keep talking to you.’
And as they spoke simultaneously, a babble of reassurance from her and grim determination from him, her brain separated her words from his, until he stopped talking mid-sentence.
‘Seth?’
After a minute, his voice returned. ‘This is hopeless, isn’t it? It doesn’t matter what we do; we can never be together.’
But Olivia would not be beaten.
‘Where will I find a sledgehammer?’ she asked. ‘Perhaps both walls must be destroyed.’
‘The gardener’s tool shed attached to Rowe’s cottage. We use them for driving fence posts into the ground.’
She raced out into the night and along the edge of the lawns, down to the cottage, trying to be quiet so as not to attract attention. The shed was latched, but not locked, and inside, she found what she was looking for. It was heavy and cumbersome – the weight of the iron head making it hard for her to run fast, but she returned to the tower, wrestled it up the spiral stairs and entered her bedroom, out of breath but optimistic.
‘Careful,’ he warned. ‘Legs apart. Dominant hand near the head.’
Her first attempt was feeble. She didn’t have the strength in her arms to lift it properly. But she managed to twist her body round so that the handle was over her shoulder and, using every ounce of strength, she launched it at the wall. Dust flew everywhere but nothing gave. A primal growl came from deep within and grew in volume as she repeatedly struck her target, and eventually, a small section fell away from her and into the adjoining room. She worked on making the hole bigger until, abandoning the sledgehammer, she could clamber through, coughing and spluttering, as her lungs filled with the settling dust.
But she found herself alone in the dressing room.
There was no Seth.
She allowed herself to sink to the floor, sitting amongst the broken half-bricks and not caring, as her tears left clear streaks down her dirty cheeks.
And then the sound of pounding feet up the metal staircase.
‘What the hell?’
Benji stepped into her room, frantically looking around for Olivia, until he noticed the hunched, nightgown-clad and sobbing figure through the hole in the wall.
‘Oh, Livvy. I don’t think you’re well. You need help.’