Chapter Eleven
They walked at first in silence, their steps leaving footprints in the dew. Myrtle pulled on her lead, her tongue hanging out as she panted.
‘Do you mind if I let her off, she’s used to . . .’ Roaming free on Bramlington land.
Henry looked at Ava with the hint of a smile. ‘Of course not, do what you normally do. Don’t ever feel inhibited because I’m here.’
‘Thank you.’ Ava stopped, so she could release Myrtle to explore the smells made by the animals who had trodden the same path the night before.
With the dog free, Ava and Henry walked on, talking about the early morning light and the changing landscape of the woods.
While Ava had often thought about what she might say, or feel, seeing Henry again, she never imagined it would be so easy or feel so right to be back in his presence.
Her mind felt more enlivened as they discussed the decaying oak tree, the paths they had once trodden being hidden by brambles, and the growth of the deer population in the surrounding parkland.
They were kindred woodland spirits, once crowning themselves the lord and lady of the Bramlington estate, with halos of woven willow, decorated with ivy.
Ava didn’t know if it was because she had finally addressed the matter of sorting her mum’s belongings, the release of the tears she had held on to since her mum’s funeral as she had cried long into the night, or the fact Henry was back, that was making her feel so light — but she didn’t want to overthink it.
She just knew she could feel a sense of freedom inside she had forgotten, and that she would be happy for this moment, with her, Henry and Myrtle walking in the woods, to last forever.
When they reached the lake, Myrtle continued, her nose to the ground, as she wandered around the water’s edge, while Henry and Ava paused, taking in the sight before them.
Ava had visited the lake on occasion, but it was only now, seeing it in Henry’s presence, that she recognised how starkly it had changed since last they were there together.
The water looked cold, deep and murky. Not at all like the lake they had swum in as children.
In her memory it was aquamarine, inviting and glistening in the summer sun.
But now, even the central water fountain had given up.
The naked, eternally youthful boy with his rounded cheeks, curly hair, and dimpled arms holding a dolphin, looked defeated by time — green from the weather and unable to muster even a dribble of water.
Looking at the lake now, it was hard to imagine they had ever felt the urge to dive in.
It was a stark reminder of the time that had passed.
‘Created in the eighteenth century and left to ruin in the twenty-first!’ Henry sighed, rubbing his hand through his beard.
‘We swam in it, just over a decade ago. This isn’t irreversible. It’s just neglect.’
‘It’s more than that—’
‘It’s beautiful,’ Ava insisted, and she meant it. In her mind, the place of their youth was still there. It just needed to be rediscovered; she didn’t want to hear it being dismissed out of hand.
Henry didn’t respond. Instead, he turned to face her, his brow furrowed. ‘Ava, since my return to Dapplebury, I’ve wanted to talk to you.’
Ava went to speak, but Henry continued, ‘I need you to know how sorry I am for what happened.’
‘Henry, really it’s—’
‘I should have stood up for you on the day my mother discovered us, and I didn’t. You were my best, my only friend. My time with you, in the woods and here, was everything to me. You kept me sane and then . . . I stood by. I should have defended you, us.’
‘It was a long time ago.’
‘Don’t say that like that makes it all right.’ Henry held her arms, his eyes searching hers. ‘It wasn’t all right, and I want you to know I won’t let you down again.’
Ava looked into his imploring eyes, feeling his ragged breath against her cheek.
‘Henry—’
As Myrtle barked, both Ava and Henry turned to see Granger trundling out from the trees behind them.
At first, Ava smiled, readying herself to find the dog a treat, but as Ted followed, she hesitated.
She had known the gardener for many years since she and Henry were children.
He had turned a blind eye to her visits, both then and now.
She didn’t fear his approach, but she did fear the grave expression on his face, and the increased pace with which he was closing the distance between them, causing his awkward gait to be more pronounced.
She knew something was wrong. ‘I should go!’
‘It’s just Ted,’ Henry said, his frustration at the interruption clear from his tone. But as Ted’s ashen face came more clearly into view, Henry ran to meet him.
The dogs and Ava followed.
‘Henry . . . you’re wanted up at the house. It’s your father.’ Ted shook his head. ‘I’m sorry lad.’
Ava noticed the sadness in the older man’s eyes as he spoke and felt an ache in her chest for him and for Henry.
‘Go. You have to go,’ she urged.
Henry looked at her, clearly torn between wanting to stay and the need to leave.
‘Run on lad, I’ll follow,’ Ted added, seemingly misinterpreting Henry’s reluctance to leave.
‘You have to go,’ Ava repeated.
Walking a few paces backwards before turning, Henry took off at a sprint back along the path and through the trees.
Granger and Ted followed behind. Calling Myrtle to her side, Ava bent to hold on to the dog’s collar and slipped her lead on.
They stood alone, as the woods fell silent, in the wake of the commotion.
Ava shuddered. Goosebumps pricked her skin, and she knew she was feeling what Flo would describe as the chill wind of change.