“There wasn’t anything you could have done,” he started, but Charlotte said, “Please don’t.”
In silence, he squeezed her hands and retreated to his own chair. Charlotte had done what she could for their mother, but it had been too late. John had been dead by the time the other fishermen had hauled him out of the water that morning eight years ago. But he’d only lived so long in the first place because Charlotte had saved his life years before. When she was nineteen, he’d washed ashore unconscious and half drowned, the lone survivor—best they could figure afterward, since he remembered nothing—of a shipwreck. It had been the first time she’d saved someone’s life. Missing memories aside, he’d lived happy and healthy until the sea had claimed him.
Charlotte looked at the ceiling, blinking back tears. She’d never cried much before, but since her illness she teared up at the drop of a hat. Yet another thing to add to her frustrations, Arthur knew. Their mother had been dreadfully weepy after their father’s disappearance, not only at first but for the rest of her life, and Charlotte had resented it. Eileen had spent more time nurturing her grief than her children.
“What was that proposition Mrs. Livingston mentioned today?” Charlotte asked.
Arthur’s skin prickled. He’d almost managed to forget it,through the debacle of bedtime. “Oh—it’s nothing. Something she wants me to do for her, that’s all. It’s not important.”
Sometimes, when Charlotte had a bad day, she could be put off that way. Other times, she could be as persistent as Sasha.
Today, apparently, she was the latter. “What was it?”
Arthur explained Agnes’s proposition. When he mentioned the money, Charlotte let out a low whistle.
“Not important! Arthur—”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you agree at once?”
Why, indeed? Agnes Livingston had virtually handed him everything he’d ever wanted—but instead of accepting, he’d put her off.
“Well, as I said, she wants it quickly. Which means, you know—”
Unease crept across Charlotte’s face. “You’d have to go through the wood.”
“Precisely,” Arthur said, relieved. “So you see why I can’t... I can’t take Mrs. Livingston up on her offer if it means entering the wood, can I?”
It came out more desperate than he’d intended. He just wanted Charlotte to tell him he couldn’t go. If she said he couldn’t go—he couldn’t go; it was as simple as that. He wouldn’t have to make the decision; he wouldn’t have to live with more than mild disappointment in himself for not arguing harder in favor of going. He’d never learn whether or not the forest and the city beyond could stand up to the shining bubble of his long-held dreams.
“It is dangerous.” Charlotte looked at him. “I know you don’t think so—not really. But it is. If you’d seen as much of the sickness as I have... Supposing you came home with it? Or supposing you never came home at all?”
“You’re right, of course. I don’t know what I was thinking, even considering. Silly of me.”
“Silly,” Charlotte echoed. Her expression sobered. “But...”
Why was she sayingbut? Why wasn’t she agreeing he couldn’t possibly go?
“I don’t... It’s so much money. We could...”
“I know.”
“You might inquire into housing while you’re there. That is—you wouldn’t have much time for that, I suppose, since you need to be back quickly, but if you placed an inquiry and had them wire the information...”
The prickling subsided. Arthur imagined finding a house with four separate bedrooms and a proper dining room (large enough for dinner parties) that was nonetheless reasonably priced, to which—upon taking possession—he could invite the many friends he was certain to have if he lived in Port Lorne.
“That is true. I hadn’t thought of that.”
Charlotte glanced at him. “I know you’ve always wanted to go.”
His father’s voice echoed distantly in his ears.Not this year, son. When you’re older.He’d said it so many times.
“Yes,” Arthur said wistfully. “Maybe the clock shop Dad told me about is still there.”
“But you haven’t said yes.”
Arthur’s thoughts ground to a halt. He’d hardly stopped thinking of all Agnes’s offer could bring him. Not merely the money, but the chance to journey through the forest to Port Lorne.
