Chapter 21
Beth
Jonas may have given me a new reason to feel happy at Raven Hall, but I never saw him alone—Nina and I did almost everything together.
As the summer holidays drew to an end, Jonas asked me again whether I’d be joining him at the high school in September, and I felt embarrassed that I couldn’t give him a definite answer.
The prospect of being at the same school appealed to me, although I’d be in the year below him, so I probably wouldn’t see him all that much.
I asked Nina if she knew what the plan was, but she merely shrugged and suggested we ask her parents that evening.
It seemed Leonora and Markus hadn’t given any thought to my ongoing education either, but they quickly came up with a suggestion.
“Not the local high school, no,” Leonora said, “but let’s go and look at this other place.” She glanced at Nina. “Perhaps you both might like to try it there.”
Nina was surprisingly agreeable, and three weeks later we were both enrolled at a small and very welcoming private school.
The other girls there were friendly, and I hit it off with my new violin tutor straightaway.
The only downside was the school was miles from Raven Hall.
We left in a taxi early in the morning and got home late, but Nina was cheerful about it, so I was determined to be happy too.
At first, I fretted every time money was mentioned at school—why were Leonora and Markus insisting on paying for my education, and what would happen if they stopped?
I still felt I had to be careful not to antagonize Nina.
Not that she ever referred to the “game” again or said anything pointed, but I knew that if she asked her parents to send me away, they would—they’d always put her first, and quite rightly too.
So I stayed alert for any sign that the family might be preparing to send me back to the children’s home.
But as the months passed, and my school life grew more absorbing, I began to relax.
Caroline came for a short visit in October, staying for barely an hour, during which time we made polite conversation in the drawing room and I ate a lot of biscuits to fill the awkward silences.
She said she’d see me again before Christmas, but in the end, she sent a parcel and her apologies—she’d been assigned work in South America for six weeks.
Eventually, at the end of January, she made a second visit to check on my welfare.
“You seem very settled,” she said.
She’d been in the house hardly two minutes.
Leonora, Markus, and Nina had retreated promptly, leaving us to chat privately by the fire that crackled in the black marble fireplace, a tea tray placed on the coffee table between us.
I scrutinized her expression, sensing that she was, more than anything, relieved that I was no longer her problem.
I was tempted to make a snide retort. Yes, how convenient for you, Aunt Caroline.
But as ever, I masked my resentment of her.
“They’re nice people,” I said. “It does feel like home now, I have to admit.”
“Hmm.” She looked as though she might say something disparaging, but she must have thought better of it. “Well, that’s good. It all worked out for the best, then.”
She reached forward for her teacup, and there was something about her profile—the line of her jaw, the lowering of her eyelashes—that reminded me suddenly, quite overwhelmingly, of my mother, her sister.
Raven Hall had gradually softened my grief, like a layer of new life growing over a raw tree stump.
Caroline’s unwelcome presence ripped that protective layer away and reminded me forcefully of the life I’d lost. In that moment, I hated her for it.
I’d rather have been left completely alone in the world, I thought, than have her as my aunt.
I grabbed my own teacup and made an effort to bring my emotions under control.
Caroline was grieving too, I reminded myself.
Although she’d never been particularly interested in my brother and me, I’d seen photos of her and my mum together when they were growing up—they must have been close at some point.
“You’ve spilled tea on your skirt.” She eyed me sternly. “I do hope you’re behaving yourself here, Beth. The last thing I need is to hear they don’t want you anymore.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, but I met her gaze without flinching. “They seem to like me well enough. They say I’m part of the family now.”
It was Caroline who looked away, then, although whether her conscience pricked her or she was merely growing bored, I couldn’t tell.
I waved her off soon afterward, but the weight of her words added to the usual pressure I’d grown used to: I was still an outsider.
I had to be on my best behavior, all the time.
It was a few weeks after my birthday, when I’d been living at Raven Hall for eight months, that something changed my perception of my position there.
It came about because Nina got a part in the school play, and her rehearsals went on well into the evening as the performance night drew closer.
Leonora and Markus took pity on me and offered to send two taxis for us, just for those few dates.
So I was back at Raven Hall, without Nina, when Jonas knocked on the door late one afternoon.
We strolled around the lake, talking about everything and nothing.
I glanced sideways at him frequently, wondering what was going through his mind.
Would he tell me again that he liked me?
Should I tell him that I liked him? A short way past the old tree stump, he came to a sudden halt by a little stone beach, and I carried on for a couple of steps before swinging around to face him.
“What?”
“Let’s swim.”
I laughed. “No way, Jonas. It’s not even April yet. It’ll be freezing.”
He gestured at his short-sleeved T-shirt. “It’s fine. Practically summer.”
“You’re crazy.” But I followed him down to the water’s edge, and I watched him undress, my pulse jumping.
“Come on, scaredy cat,” he said, and he plunged into the green-black water, splashing wildly and yelling at the shock of it. My heart raced. Could I bear it? But could I bear not to join him? Quickly, I tugged off my school skirt and jumper, and I took a running leap.
I was swallowed into a different world. I hung there, staring sightlessly into the water, unable to move. No air in my lungs, no gentle spring sunshine on my skin, no background chirrup and rustle of life. I waited for something to happen as the tightness in my chest grew.
“Beth!” Jonas was shaking me, and suddenly the sky had returned, and I could breathe again. “Bloody hell, are you okay?”
I made a supreme effort to move my fingers, my arms, my legs, and I felt my blood start moving again.
“I hate you,” I said to him. And then I laughed. “I told you it was too cold.” I kicked away from him and felt warmth flood back into my body as I swam clumsily farther away from the shore and then back again.
We clambered out, teeth chattering, and Jonas’s face was unusually serious. He insisted on my replacing my own soaked blouse with his dry T-shirt, turning away as I made the switch. Then he wrapped his arms around me.
“I admit,” he said, “that was maybe a bit stupid of me.”
And then we were kissing, just like that. As if it were the most natural ending to our first swim of the season. As if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Later that evening, when Nina came home, she tapped on my bedroom door. I was already in my pajamas, sitting in my bed. She came in, full of gossip about the rehearsal, her costume, the makeup she was planning to wear. It took her several minutes to ask me how my afternoon alone had been.
I hesitated, and it was in that fraction of a second that I realized—I wasn’t dependent on Nina for my happiness; I didn’t need her approval of everything I did.
I was fifteen now, and the adult world was within touching distance.
Suddenly, I knew I had a future ahead of me, with or without the support of the family at Raven Hall.
“Oh, Jonas called round,” I said, “so we just went for a walk around the lake.”
Nina stilled. “And?”
I pulled a face. “And nothing.”
She went off to her own bedroom soon after that—to her round Rapunzel room in her fairy-tale tower. But as she passed my empty laundry basket on her way out, she glanced into it—so fleetingly, it wouldn’t have registered if I hadn’t had a guilty conscience.
I waited until the next morning—until the last minute, as our taxi was turning onto the driveway and heading toward us—to scurry back up to my room, claiming I’d forgotten my math homework.
I snatched my damp clothes from under my mattress and dropped them into the laundry basket, hoping the daily cleaner wouldn’t comment on their state.
Jonas’s T-shirt I’d already washed by hand in the bathroom next door and dried on my bedroom radiator.
I sat in the taxi and plotted how soon I could return his T-shirt and see him again.
I did feel guilty about keeping a secret from Nina, when up until now we’d shared everything, but I also felt—powerful. Independent. Strong. For the first time in my life.
Unfortunately, that feeling didn’t last. Events at Raven Hall had no regard for my blossoming love life. It was only a few weeks later, on a Saturday, when I was skipping into the house after a brief secret rendezvous with Jonas, that Leonora called me into the drawing room.
“Oh, Beth,” she said. “There you are. I’m afraid I need to ask you a favor.”
I hovered in the doorway, my heart sinking. “Yes?”
Her gaze ran over my hair and down to my new sandals, and I stiffened—had I failed to straighten my clothes after kissing Jonas so passionately just now? How much did Leonora know? But I discovered her mind was on another subject entirely.
“Markus’s father has announced a surprise visit, Beth. He’ll be here in a few hours. And poor old Nina’s feeling unwell again, and—well, now that he’s met you, it would be so hard to explain anyway, and . . . Beth, we need you to play the game again.”