Lowerwick comes into view, cutting off my thoughts, its beauty undeniable and captivating. It baffles me that Mason can be so absent from his childhood home when it is so beautiful.
I pay the taxi and cringe at the amount. It’s foolish of me to be spending so much when I am in such a financial mess.
Taking the sprawling steps, I knock on the door and wait.
After a few minutes, I try again, but no one answers. I push on the handle, and it opens.
“Hello?”
I walk into the entrance and peer into both the rooms on my left and right, but they’re empty.
The entire house is silent, no life or soul, and no love. It was full of it when I was here before, the Montgomerys and Lowells as one, but looking around now I can see it as the broken home that it is.
My heart hurts for Mason, and I find myself rubbing absently at my chest.
“Hello,” I call out again, moving farther into the house.
I hear a light cough, and I halt in my steps. “Anthony?”
“Who’s that?”
I push open the door at the end of the corridor and find a small living room. Anthony rises from the chair, and straightaway I notice the pained look on his face.
“Oh, don’t stand! Here.” I grab the cushion that has fallen and prop it up against his back as he gives up and sits back in his seat.
“Nina, I’m sorry, I must have nodded off. I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I didn’t tell anyone I was coming. Sorry, I should have called.”
“No, you’re always welcome here. Scarlet is here somewhere. You will have to give her a call; as you know, it’s a big house—she could be anywhere.”
“That’s okay. Can I get you a drink?” I ask, feeling a little awkward.
“No, no. I’m grand love.” He waves his hand around.
He doesn’t look grand. His skin looks off-colour and frail—even more so than before.
“How have you been?” I ask, unsure of my words.
I feel bad for disturbing him.
“Good, it’s been beautiful weather the last couple of days. I’ve been out on the meadow for the most part.”
“The meadow?”
“Yeah, it’s on the other side of the estate. Mase has never mentioned it?” he asks, sounding slightly gutted as his brows draw in.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Hmm,” he sniggers. “Do you want to see it?”
His eyes light up in excitement.
“I’d love to!”
I go to help him from the chair, but he shrugs me off. It’s as if speaking of the meadow has bought him a new lease on life. It makes me smile.
“I may need a new liver, but my legs still work, young lady.”
