“Grey Lachlan? Yeah, he’s the developer. But I’m not sure he did it. Mrs. Ellis believes the Lachlans are innocent, and I’m starting to agree. I mean, poisoning someone is a pretty extreme way to deal with a local planning committee, and killing Mrs. Scarlett isn’t exactly going to change the rest of the committee’s mind. I’m wondering about Dorothy Ingram – she’s head of the church committee and believed the Banned Book Club was sinful. As for trespassing, it’s awood. It’s not like it’s got security guards. Kids from the village and the housing estate have been coming here for years. I used to spend a lot of warm summer evenings down by the stream.”
“I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” Heathcliff pulled the collar of his jacket tight around his face. “It’s not a warm summer’s evening.”
“Hush. Man up.” My teeth chattered, and puffs of steam formed in front of my lips. Heathcliff wasn’t wrong about the temperature. “I want to show you something.”
My excitement turned sour as soon as we started down the overgrown path. Away from the road, the darkness enclosed me. I couldn’t make out anything – no outlines of branches arching over the path, no reflections in muddy puddles between the roots, no edges where one plant gave way to another. I flung my arms out and stumbled blindly down the path. Wet branches scraped my wool coat as I felt my way along the overgrown path. Tears of frustration prickled my eyes as my boots scuffed and tripped over roots and fallen debris.
“Mina,” Heathcliff’s voice growled in my ear. He grabbed my shoulders, bringing me to a halt. “Stop. You’ll fall and hurt yourself.”
“I know the way,” I snapped.It’s not fair. This was supposed to be romantic. My stupid eyes ruin everything.
“Of course you do.” A hand looped in mine, huge, rough fingers between my tiny ones, warm and reassuring. “But we can’t have that fine dress of yours getting torn up. Let me follow the path; you tell me where to go.”
I wiped the tears with the back of my hand, glad that in the gloom he couldn’t see my mascara running.This is stupid. Why did I think this would be a good date idea?
But I didn’t have a backup plan, or a torch, or even my mobile phone, so I let Heathcliff lead me down the path. I apologized every time I stepped on his heels or kicked his shins trying to avoid the roots. Ahead of me, behind me, below and above me – all the world was a deep, endless, terrifying void.Is this what I’ll see when I go blind?
After a time, I stopped bothering to apologize or to avoid the obstacles in my path. I switched my grip to Heathcliff’s elbow and glided along in his wake. Heathcliff was a force of nature, and I had no choice but to be swept up with him, letting go of control and trusting the darkness.
Trusting the darkness.Would I ever feel at home in this gloom?
“We’ve reached a fork,” Heathcliff said after a little while. “Which way?”
“Left. We keep going until we reach a tiny stream.”
We turned. Sounds reached my ears, close, but growing distant as we descended. Voices. Kids laughing. A rap song playing out of tinny USB speakers. And above it all – the bubbling water of the stream, rushing faster than I remembered as it swelled from the winter rains. The water grew louder, and the path widened out and became steeper, the trees loosening their oppressive weight on us. My feet slid over rocks and pebbles.
Heathcliff turned and gripped my sides, holding my weight easily as he helped me down the steep, rocky slope. At the bottom I stood upright, tugging Heathcliff’s arm until he drew up against me. I pressed myself into the bulk of his body, andlistened. I couldn’t see the water, but I heard it, the sound bringing me back to my childhood – reading books on a flat rock in this very spot, tucked away out of sight from the kids who hung out further up the stream.
My temples pounded from the effort of straining my eyes in the darkness, but I didn’t care. Euphoria washed over me.We got here in the end, and it’s still the same.It smelled and sounded exactly the way I remembered. So what if the date wasn’t working out quite the way I hoped? I didn’t need to see Heathcliff to know how fucking hot he looked, or how good his body felt pressed up against mine.
“You can’t see this place from the road, and most people go the other way because there’s a flat area that’s nicer for sitting,” I said. “Ashley and I used to skip school and walk out here. We’d listen to punk songs on an old Discman and draw fashion sketches. Once, we even went skinny-dipping in the stream.”
Heathcliff grunted. Beside me, his body stiffened.
“Don’t get excited – it was adisaster.Turns out, the stream’s only about knee deep, so we just waddled around in the buff. Then something bit Ashley’s foot, and I got this ugly red rash from the weeds that didn’t disappear for aweek. I’ve never gone skinny-dipping since. Can you see a long, flat rock anywhere?”
“Over here.” Heathcliff led me over to it. I felt around the edges with my hands, satisfied it was as I remembered and big enough for two. I unrolled a blanket from the top of my bag, spread it out on the rock, and sat down. A bitter chill rose off the water, blasting me in the face and drying my tears. The rock hugged me in familiar places – cool, reassuring, as much a part of me as the man who now sat down beside me, his thigh pressed against mine.
I opened my bag and laid out the food I’d brought earlier – a fresh loaf of bread from Greta’s bakery, slices of chorizo and prosciutto, some fancy cheese, a bag of grapes, and two of Greta’s amazing cream doughnuts. I handed Heathcliff a knife and ordered him to slice the bread and cheese while I poured us both a glass of wine.
“You thought of everything,” he said as I unscrewed the lid of a jar of Mrs. Ellis’ homemade strawberry preserve.
“I’m quite clever, you know.” I handed him a plastic cup filled with champagne, and he slid a slice of bread loaded with cheese and chorizo into my open hand. I bit into it, savoring the spicy meat and sharp cheddar.
“Don’t say that. You sound like Morrie. I don’t want to think about Morrie tonight.”
“Did I choose the perfect spot for our date?” I sipped my Champagne, the bubbles tickling my tongue.
“You did.” Heathcliff’s warm breath caressed my cheek as he leaned close to me. “I didn’t even know about this wood. If I had, I’d probably come more often. I don’t get out into nature as much as I should.”
“Is it because it reminds you of Wuthering Heights?”
Heathcliff paused. “Probably. It’s more that the England of my world doesn’t exist here, not for me – the moors were the last true wild place, ethereal and menacing in equal measure. Their wild beauty hid danger and memory and a dream that withered into dust.”
“The moors still exist, you know. You could go back there and be close to her memory.”Or her legend.To him, they were the same thing.
“I cannot.”
