Just like I feel that something is missing now, she thought.
‘Isaac,’ she asked tentatively. ‘Why did I lose my memory? Why is there a period of my life that I can’t remember?’
He was quiet for a moment.
‘I’ve told you, Eliza, you were ill, very ill. I feared that I might lose you.’
‘Consumption, you said?’
‘Yes.’
‘I was lucky to survive.’
‘Very lucky. Most didn’t. Your life hung in the balance for several weeks, my love, and your recuperation was long.’
‘I’m sorry to keep asking, but I remember little of this time.’
She turned to him.
‘And you planted this willow tree to celebrate my return to health. That was such a lovely thing to do, Isaac. I feel at peace when I sit beneath its canopy.’
‘Willow is a symbol of resilience and healing. It felt appropriate.’
‘It is, and resilience is such an essential characteristic. I wonder if it is the result of nature or nurture.’
‘A combination of both, I believe. You were born with resilience, Eliza, but you had the courage to disregard your family’s wishes for your future. Having the courage to face up to challenges in itself breeds resilience.’
‘I knew that we were meant to be together,’ she said, lifting her face slightly to his, ‘so my choice didn’t take too much courage.’
‘I think you are doing yourself a disservice, my love.’
‘And I believe that we were always meant to come to this place,’ Eliza said, looking out towards the horizon. ‘Do you believe that some places choose you?’
She didn’t wait for him to reply.
‘I think that being here made it easier for me to bear my barrenness. I hope it did for you, too.’
‘You know that I do not like that word, Eliza. It is so misleading.’
‘Sterile, unproductive then.’
Isaac took her gently by the shoulders.
‘I wish you would not still punish yourself this way. You were and are far from unproductive. Look at what we achieved here. The layout of this garden still adheres to your original creation. The cottage still resonates with your love. Our little dogs, buried beneath our feet, knew your tenderness, as have I. All I ever wanted was you,’ he whispered, burying his face in her hair. ‘You have been more than enough.’
‘Oh, Isaac.’
She put her hand upon his dear head. She wished she could say the same, but she had wanted more.
She had wanted a child and the emptiness of not being blessed with that never left her. Perhaps that was what she was looking for – acceptance, peace. She felt a weight lift from her form. That was it!
She would begin to work on bringing herself peace of mind. Then, when she had attained that, maybe she would be ready to leave.
NINE
The following morning, Jules was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine when she saw Tasha walking up the path. She waved through the window and went to the front door.
‘Hello. What can I do for you?’
