The man nodded.
‘I’ll find Katie,’ said Annie, jolting into action. ‘She’s the auctioneer, Mr Sabine, she’ll need to know we’re here…’
‘Save yourself the trouble,’ said William, softly, staying her with a lift of his hand where he held a big key, very much like the one Harri had put in his pocket. ‘They’ve all gone. I let myself in.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Harri. ‘You live here? But they’re selling the place, aren’t they? Are you a Courtenay too?’
The old man chuckled at this. The chuckle turned into a cough and he reached for a box of freshly dispensed pills, still with their white sticker over the seal.
‘Get me two of these please? And there’s a Marsala in the cabinet.’ Harri took the packet from him and William produced a smaller key, giving it to Annie. ‘Over there, beneath the globe.’
Annie took the key, her face all curiosity and concern, but she still did as she was instructed. The hatch beneath the globe sprung open and, sure enough, there was a decanter and goblets inside.
‘Should you have alcohol?’ Annie asked.
Mr Sabine only raised a wild eyebrow and Annie gave in, pouring him a little of the tawny wine.
‘Mr Sabine,’ said Harri after a glance at his phone screen. ‘It’s gone nine o’clock. We need to decide what we’re doing tonight. Where are you staying? Can’t we take you back to the hospital? Or at least, to the bookshop?’ Where was Minty when you needed a responsible adult to delegate? Harri didn’t have a clue what to do.
‘Tsh!’ tutted Mr Sabine, before washing down in one gulp the pills Harri had popped for him.
‘I’m not the only one enjoying a nightcap, I see?’ William said mischievously, nodding to the open bottle of red wine by the hearth next to Annie’s bag, its contents spilled everywhere. Seeing their blushes, he let out a laugh. ‘I may be old and unnecessary, but I know a hawk from a handsaw.’ He dropped himself into the fireside armchair with the sigh of a man arriving home after a long time away.
Harri smiled at this. He was quotingHamlet. He couldn’t be so ill and confused if he was able to do that.
‘You seem better,’ said Harri.
‘I’ll never be better.’ He held out his empty glass for Annie to refill. ‘But yes, they helped me with my prescriptions and the doctors reached their diagnosis. A water infection,’ he said in a low voice, not for Annie’s hearing, ‘and a lack of sodium, apparently.’ He chuckled and scratched his bare head. ‘The marvellous complexity of the human body, and it can be poleaxed for the lack of a few grains of salt.’
When Annie came back her demeanour had shifted. She stood by Harri’s side and handed over William’s glass, filled halfway this time. ‘We would have been locked overnight in the castle if you hadn’t shown up.’
Harri felt a sudden flush of warmth emanate from her. She had to be thinking of what would have happened if they hadn’t been interrupted. Her arms were by her sides now and his whole soul wanted to reach for her hand, to let her know it wasn’t over. They had left everything To Be Continued, only she took a quick step away, leaving a cold space between them.
He didn’t know what would happen if they didn’t get the chance to talk it all over, and the sooner the better, but a feeling of unease was making its way inside him now.
Annie couldn’t look at him even though he was blatantly looking right at her. Was she embarrassed? Regretful? He needed to know.
‘I watched from the gatehouse until the last car was gone and I let myself in,’ William explained. ‘It’s my right, after all. I’ve lived here these last fifty years.’
Annie crouched by his side.
Harri felt like he was watching from behind glass. He had to talk with her. But how, when they had poor Mr Sabine to sort out?
‘Nicholas and I were companions,’ the man was telling Annie fondly.
‘You were…’ Annie began, before stopping herself.
‘We were the closest of friends, which is better than whatever is running through your head, young Annwyl.’ He smiled sadly and his whole face transformed into a picture of softness. ‘You young people might want to imagine us being more, but friendship was all we ever needed.’
Harri wished he wouldn’t call her Annwyl, even though it was only the old man’s way of teasing him. It made him feel even more ridiculous than he already did.
Annie was smiling back at William. ‘You didn’t seem to know any of this when you appeared at the bookshop.’
Mr Sabine huffed out a breath and shook his head. ‘I remember the day they took Nicholas away. I’d been looking after him here. He hated hospitals, begged me not to let them take him. He wanted to die at home, with me.’ Tears filled his eyes, and he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
‘You looked after him?’ Annie was saying.
‘We looked after each other. And when the ambulance men took him out of here, he was already unconscious. I knew he wasn’t returning. And after that, I… let myself slip.’ He wiped at his eyes. ‘I didn’t see the point in keeping up with my pills. Nicholas always saw to that sort of thing. He saw to everything. This last year or two… we had both let things slip.’
