Edie shook her head. Cosima and the priest were quiet.
“May I?” Sister Ona asked, holding out her hand.
Edie watched Ona read the letter, then shake her head much like Edie had. At last, she handed the letter to Father José Antonio, who read it and then solemnly kissed the top of the paper. He looked at Edie and Cosima. “What will you do? The messengers?”
“We’ll go to Tintern, in Wales,” Cosima said. “It’s the only thing to do. Agatha has to know that Minnie never came back to the inn to start the hunt. She should know that Morag, theinnkeeper in Harlaxton, had us go, I assume because Morag knows it’s a lost cause or suspects it is. Or, at least, she knows something.”
Edie felt lost. This evidence that Agatha had never stopped loving Minnie was unexpectedly devastating. Ever since Rouen, she’d hoped it wasn’t the case—that the map was an old chase made by a romantic girl during a time when few queer people would have felt they could love who they loved no matter what. Cosima had told Edie about Tam and Killian, and about Tam’s father. That was Minnie and Agatha’s world, too. But now it was clear—Agatha had never stopped hoping. Never. The torch she held for Minnie was as bright as this paper, sent at Epiphany, which was in early January. Only last month.
“We have to go back to Gregory Place,” she said. “Morag knew this treasure hunt wasn’t to find gold or jewels, but she acted like it was. Negotiated a split. Even after the Rouen letter, she insisted we get back to it. I think she made us keep going so that she could settle her guest book. Or, I guess, get word to Agatha that whatever happened at the inn all those years ago wasn’t happening? I don’t know. But I don’t think that’s something we should do. What if Minnie’s passed away? Or what if she’s a grandmother or great-grandmother somewhere, and she doesn’t want anything to do with this? We need to go back and sit Morag down and make a plan that’s kind. We can’t just show up on Agatha’s doorstep and relieve her of her hope with no chance of closure. It’s cruel.”
The stack of letters on Sister Ona’s desk felt like a sacred trust, an archive of one woman’s most cherished dream. As much as she enjoyed reading about sapphic romance and queer history, Edie couldn’t play tourist with someone else’s heartbreak.
Not when her own was bearing down on her.
Cosima turned in her chair and took Edie’s hand between both of hers, the same way the priest had clasped her hand in his. “I hear you, I do, but I still think we need to go to Agatha. Today. It’s been too long. It’s none of our business. It wasn’t Morag’s business either. If it were me, if this wereus, Edie, I’d want some evidence that I hadn’t been writing into a void all this time. I’d want some kind of permission to grieve. Maybe that’s why we’re both here. Because we can understand, can’t we?”
Edie pulled her hand away to wipe her tears again. “I don’t know. I don’t think this is for us. It may be that we brought it to light, but I can’t imagine we’re supposed to finish this? Once and for all? That feels awful. I came to England in the first place with a broken heart. Now I don’t know how you and me will end. I can’t deliver heartbreak to this woman.”
“Then who can?” Cosima argued. “Morag calls her?Morag?She’s not known for her sensitivity.”
“We said at the beginning if we didn’t know what to do, we had to ask a third party.”
“You picked last time. The Sixt clerk.”
Edie nodded. Cosima looked between the priest and the nun, then back to Sister Ona. “You’ve been part of this since the beginning. What should we do?”
She folded her hands on the desk in front of her. “Father José Antonio will drive you to the airport. You can take a car to Tintern from Cardiff.”
Edie’s belly sank, but she reached for Cosima’s hand anyway. Because if you couldn’t reach for the woman you loved when you felt the worst, when could you?
She hoped Agatha hadn’t been sad this whole time. She hoped her life had been good, even without Minnie.
Cosima squeezed her hand. “I know it seems impossible, but I think it’s going to be okay.” She said this in her most imperious voice, so Edie chose to believe it.
It would be okay. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought so. Even when she had tried to make a legacy and was running entirely on hope.
“So goes my princess, so goes my nation.”
Edie smiled and hoped that this time, everything would turn out different.
Chapter Nineteen
Twilight in the Welsh countryside wasn’t something that Edie would soon forget.
The light was a scrim of purple-gray over everything. The bright spring flush on the trees and hedgerows glowed against the suppertime light. The gearshift of the Mini felt strange in her left hand, but the A466 from Cardiff was a forgiving route to learn UK rules of the road. She’d expected more pushback from Cosima about driving. Instead, she gave in quickly and fell asleep within minutes of beginning the drive. Edie was pretty sure she was a secret passenger princess.
At times, the A466 rose up to reveal the slow sparkle of the River Wye, which wound through this part of Wales. According to the map, One Tree Cottage overlooked the river. Agatha lived away from Tintern village, which sat on the main road. She was within walking distance of the famous Tintern Abbey.
When Edie was a sophomore in high school, she had an English teacher who read them the Wordsworth poem aboutthe abbey. Edie remembered the stormy day her teacher had read it and how it sounded. There was a single line that she’d collected like a crow sitting in the classroom. It came to her every once in a while when she ran into a particularly pretty view driving around Wisconsin.Connect the landscape with the quiet of the sky.
She hadn’t thought that someday she would be remembering that line in the place it had been written, far from home, and understand it deep inside her body.
Cosima’s phone navigation indicated that the turn for the lane that led to One Tree Cottage was a half mile away. Edie downshifted and slowed. There were no other cars around. Slowing down was enough to wake up Cosima, who sat up and stretched her arms along the top of the car.
“Hello.” She smiled at Edie, looking no worse for wear than she had this morning, except that the back of her hair where it had rubbed against plane seats and the car seat was having a party.
“Hi there.” Edie grabbed the phone and gave it to Cosima. “Tell me where to turn.”
