Chapter Three #3
And whether it was because Theo was from the big house, or because she was older or because she was gentle, Joanna relaxed.
‘I never meant to call you a witch or nothing,’ she said. ‘Beggin’ your pardon, miss.’
‘Let’s not worry about it.’
‘Nice try though,’ Missy said. ‘I nearly died when that owl went over.’
She wrenched the cork out of the cider bottle with her teeth, took a long swig and then offered it to Theo.
Wanting to recapture her momentary elation, Theo took it. The cider was warm and sour.
‘Who’s to say it didn’t work?’ she said. ‘Who’s to say that wasn’t him, watching from behind the owl’s eyes? And making the dogs howl?’
Missy laughed again. ‘I think maybe you’re a bit of an idiot, an’ all.’
She looked past Theo to where Toby was standing awkwardly, hands in his pockets, keeping an eye on Kit. She pushed Theo towards him.
‘He looks thirsty,’ she whispered.
Theo took the cider over to him, but Toby shook his head.
‘I have to study tomorrow.’
‘Like every day, I suppose,’ Theo said. ‘Every day until you go.’
‘And every day after that.’
Toby’s eyes had the fierceness she found both mesmerising and alarming. But she held his gaze, having looked away a thousand times before.
‘Then, a toast to your studies, present and future, far from Hallewell,’ she said.
The words seemed to strike home. Toby softened, took a drink, and grimaced. ‘That’s horrible.’
‘Isn’t it?’
There was a pause. Kit was still swooping. ‘Look at me, Missy!’ he called. ‘Missy!’
‘Hush, Kit!’ Toby said. ‘Quieter – unless you want Constable Pryce to come.’
Kit’s arms fell to his sides. He’d been frightened of the policeman ever since he’d been put in manacles and taken halfway to West End in the back of a cart, after the incident with the horse manure.
‘Poor Kit,’ Theo said. ‘He’s so full of joy, isn’t he? And every day is long, and full of moments to rob him of it.’
‘Sadly, his joy can quickly take him into danger.’
‘I know. I meant no criticism. No one was ever a better, more devoted brother than you, Toby.’
‘Well.’ Toby looked away. ‘Perhaps a better brother would stay at home to help him.’
The darkness made her bold: ‘Kit will understand, you know. Your going. He won’t like it, but he’ll understand, and he’ll know that . . . that you’ll come back to visit. You will, won’t you?’
‘Of course. When I can.’
‘Then . . . not very often?’
‘It can’t be. If I get my place, I’ll only be able to travel down between terms. And that will seem an age, to Kit.’
‘Perhaps not only to him.’
Theo wasn’t sure if he’d heard her. His eyes sought his brother again, indistinct in the smudged light. They heard his nervous laughter, and Missy’s drawl.
‘You’ll get your place,’ Theo said. ‘I know you will.’
‘Missy isn’t a good friend for you, Theo,’ Toby said abruptly.
‘What do you mean?’
‘The way she is. The way she . . . flirts . . .’
Theo stiffened. ‘It’s not her fault. It’s just . . . how she was raised. She’s truly good, at heart.’
‘That may be so, but others won’t see it. She already has a reputation; you must know that.’
‘Then . . . perhaps my being her friend will help to steer her, and keep her safe.’
‘Perhaps. But . . . she could taint you with that reputation, Theo. It’s different for women.’
‘Is it?’ Theo hated his lofty tone, though she couldn’t have explained why, exactly. ‘Now you sound like the vicar.’
‘Then I apologise wholeheartedly.’
Theo didn’t want to talk about Missy, not with Toby. Not when he’d noticed Missy’s flirting; not when he’d described the two of them as women, in that discriminate way. Had he learned about it in one of the many books he’d read? The topic of women? She sought to change the subject.
‘What was that symbol you were looking at earlier? When I brought the lemonade?’
‘I’ll show you.’
Toby picked up one of the candles, shielding it with his hand as he led Theo beneath broken arches to the window with the circular mark.
‘It’s difficult to make out.’ He moved the light around. ‘Here – do you see?’
Theo bent closer. The flame picked out every eyelash and tiny brow hair, and the gleam along the inside of her lower lip. Her hair swung forward and brushed across his wrist, and he caught the scent of her breath – apples, from Missy’s scrounged cider.
He swallowed. ‘I think it’s the snake who eats his own tail, Uroboros. It’s the symbol of—’
‘Eternity,’ Theo whispered.
‘Yes.’
Toby wondered how she knew about it. There were plenty of esoteric books in the library at Hallewell House, but he’d never imagined Theo would bother to read any of them.
‘Endless return,’ he said. ‘I was reminded of it during your invocation.’
‘What does it mean? Is it part of the riddle?’
‘I don’t know, yet. But I think it could be significant. An intimation of immortality.’
Theo didn’t answer, and Toby heard how pompous he sounded, yet again.
Saying what he had about women. He’d meant to sound wise and grown up, but Theo had recoiled and only then had he realised how it might feel to have your whole existence reduced like that.
Theo was not women. She was female, but that hardly said everything about her.
It hardly said anything about her at all.
He tried to follow the line of thought, unsure where it was heading, but it dwindled to a dead end.
He was right about Missy Cartwright, though.
Whether or not she was good-hearted, she would get herself into trouble one day.
Only last week, he’d seen her stop to drink from one of the village pumps, and when she’d noticed Toby and Kit nearby, talking to the grocer’s boy, she’d washed her face as well – splashing water on to her neck and blotting her cheeks with wet fingers.
Opening the top buttons of her dress to let it run down over the flushed skin of her chest.
It had been a blatant display. Later that night, Toby had heard Kit whimpering in his bed as his hand worked frantically at his crotch.
The vicar’s dire warnings against the solitary vice – of spent life force, epilepsy and the inevitable descent into homosexual debauchery – made no impression whatsoever on Kit.
But Toby didn’t like to be reminded that although Kit’s mind remained childlike, his body had all the usual male instincts.
Innocent, Mr Crudge had called him, earlier that day.
Toby wasn’t sure how long Kit could stay that way.
‘If anybody can figure it out, Toby, it’s you,’ Theo was saying, and it took him a second to realise she meant the Hallewell riddle rather than Kit’s passage into manhood.
‘It’s quite rare for banker marks to include curves, or circles,’ he said.
‘Yes, Uncle Crudge told me. They’re much harder to carve than straight lines.’
‘Right. So, I think perhaps the more elaborate symbols, and the ones with curves and circles . . . perhaps those are something more than masons’ marks. And to have a hope of gathering a meaning from any of them, I need to identify which is which.’
‘You must find the right pieces of the puzzle before you can solve it.’ She maintained her scrutiny of the snake symbol.
‘Theo . . .’
Her grey eyes turned on him, a tiny candle flame reflected in each.
‘Do you . . . do you know it?’
‘What do you mean?’ she said.
‘The symbols. The riddle . . . the clues to the Hallewell treasure . . . Do you know the answer?’
‘Of course not!’ She moved back, eyes widening. ‘You can’t think that if I’d deciphered it, I wouldn’t have told you?’
‘No . . . I know you would. I just meant that . . . perhaps it’s all a joke. A Hallewell joke.’
Theo stared at him. ‘You don’t think very much of us, do you?’
‘No, I didn’t mean that. I don’t think badly of you at all, Theo.’
‘But do you think of me at all?’
He didn’t know how to reply. He pictured himself looking back from the lane on the way to West End, trying to spot the pale mote of her dress in the distance.
‘It will be so strange when you’ve gone,’ she said.
‘Strange to know you’ve done what I so wish I might.
’ She glanced at the coin glinting in her palm.
‘There’s a green lane to the east of here – have you ever noticed it?
It climbs over the hill, between two fields.
Every time I see it, I get this terrific longing to explore it.
I know it probably doesn’t go anywhere very special, but that isn’t the point.
The point, I suppose, is not knowing where it goes. I wish my life could be like that.’
Toby had never before heard Theo say anything that resonated so closely with his own feelings.
‘Never mind,’ she said, closing her hand again. ‘I don’t blame you, that’s all. I . . . I think it’s wonderful, your going up to Durham. I’m sure you’ll have such an exciting time, and forget all about the castle, and the puzzle.’ She paused. ‘And about me.’
Toby took her hand, which he hadn’t done since they were children.
The sight of her downcast dismayed him, when not ten minutes earlier she’d lit up the night.
Slowly, almost painfully, understanding crept into him.
He put his other hand up to her face, struck by the warmth of her skin.
She turned her cheek into his touch in a way that made his muscles clench.
‘I’ll write,’ he said, leaning closer. ‘And I will come back.’
All he wanted to do then was kiss her. Her mouth, familiar but now utterly unknown as well, was inches from his. Her lips would be warm, and soft. Toby’s hands started to tremble, and the blood rushed inexorably to his groin so that he didn’t dare to move, however badly he wanted to.
‘Missy, look!’ Kit’s voice echoed in the night.
Toby blinked. Then again, even louder: ‘Missy! Missy! Look – I told you I could! I said I could do it!’
Clenching his teeth, Toby turned and hurried towards Kit’s voice. Anger at the interruption, at his brother, flared and then died, leaving an aftertaste of shame.