“Listen, I know this is stupid,” William added after moments of silence. “ThatI’mstupid for asking this of you but–”
“No more buts. We can talk about your measures of stupidity in the morning. For now, you sleep.” Edward rolled on his side, putting his back to face William. It was on the tip of William’s tongue to tell Edward that he could remove his clothes if he preferred. Then he realised that this man was still a complete stranger, only sleeping beside him because William was trying to convince himself he’d not just seen a ghost.
Neither of them spoke again.
It took a long while for sleep to come for him. He dared close his eyes, scared to replay the vision he had seen. But keeping them open was no better. Every noise the house made, every rumble of thunder beyond the manor, made him believe that the phantom had returned.
It took close to an hour for sleep to finally claim him.
William hadn’t realised how badly he needed to hear the soft purr of steady breathing beside him. It had been so long since he last listened to the rhythm of someone sleeping close to him. The warmth shared, the subtle creak of the bedframe as a person got comfortable. It was all the white noise William needed to draw his mind away from the horror he’d witnessed – even if he still didn’t know what he’d seen.
There was nothing in this world that William hated more than a liar, and he’d just shared a bed with one.
“Where is it!” William shouted, running down the stairs two at a time. His shins ached as he landed on the bottom floor, the force jarring up his legs but the desperation dulling the discomfort. He raced between room to room, searching for the thief. “Edward, where’s the fucking coat!”
William had barely been awake for two minutes before he realised two things. Edward wasn’t in the bed; his side had been perfectly made as if he’d never been there at all. But that wasn’t all.
Archie’s red coat was missing.
William forgot to search for it last night, distracted by everything that happened, only to stretch out his hand this morning, expecting to feel the brush of slick material, to find the space on the bed empty.
The coat was missing. So was Edward. Putting two and two together meant he’d stolen it.
Edward was nowhere to be found. For a moment, William almost believed he’d made Edward’s presence up with his tired mind. That was until he found a mug of freshly brewed coffee waiting for him on the kitchen side. No note, just the coffee proving that it hadn’t been made too long ago.
Not that he expected anything else – but Edward had left Hanbury. The only evidence he’d even been in the manor was the warm stone of the fireplace in the living room and the two glasses of wine left on the table. One was empty, whereas the one Edward had held was still full. William questioned if Edward had even drunk any last night. Turned out the answer was clear as day.
No, he hadn’t. He’d sat back and watched as William quickly got drunk.
Besides the waste of wine, William was furious. At the world, but mostly at himself for letting his guards down only to be burned again.
He’d let a fucking stranger into his house. A stranger who talked about ghosts, stoking his fear. William couldn’t help but feel as though it was all in some twisted attempt to make him leave Hanbury. It was the only reason he could think of. And now Archie’s coat was missing, the one item that William felt utterly unravelled without.
“Bastard,” William screamed, fighting the urge to punch a wall. “Cheap, lying, brown-eyed bastard!”
William didn’t want to acknowledge the disappointment either, or how deeply uncomfortable he felt. Why would Edward have taken Archie’s coat? The storm had passed; the sky was so blue outside it was as if that, too, had never existed. It wasn’t like he needed it. William was beginning to believe that last night’s apparition was just a drunk-fuelled vision of finding Edward with the coat. Funny how he’d been there just at the right time.
Why? Why, why, why?
Not knowing what to do with himself, William took the lukewarm coffee and sat outside in the gardens. It was easier being outside the manor than in. Without the pressure of the surrounding walls, he didn’t feel as overwhelmed to deal with his unleashed emotions.
The storm had moved on, leaving in its wake a sense of calm. Outside the back of the manor, where the kitchen and the living room overlooked, was a small courtyard overlooking untamed bushes, and wild grass. Towering hedges and tall trees enclosed it, but William knew this was simply a tiny portion of the manor’s lands. It was clear, from the private nature of this space, that whoever had lived here had used this part of the grounds as a personal garden.
It was also very obvious, in daylight, that Edward had lied about something else.
He’d never tended to the gardens. No one had. Not for years, anyway.
The proof was literally all around him. Weeds, leaves strewed across the long grass. The realisation only made William more furious. He clutched the mug, knuckles white, wondering how long it would take to shatter it.
Blue-bellied sparrows flirted with one another on the cusp of the stone water fountain to his side. It would’ve once been filled with fresh water, but now trails of green goo oozed down the white stone, moss overtaking practically everything in sight.
Another shadow broke away from a gnarled tree, shifting behind a row of wild hedges. William sat up, all anger fading away like sand through open fingers. His eyes narrowed on where he’d seen the movement.
“Edward?” Slowly, he stood up. Placing the mug of coffee down, he moved towards where he’d seen the shadow. “If you think this is all a game to you…”
There was no reply. William paced closer, fists balled. As he rounded the hedge there was nothing to find. The space empty, and void of answers.
A long exhale left him, only to catch when a loud crack sounded at his back. He spun around, scream clogging his throat, to find the mug shattered on the moss-coated stone slabs. Coffee leaked into the grooves, spreading out in a puddle.
