Page 60 of Valour

“Close the door,” Hester said, her voice low, as colourless as the ice.

The door clicked shut, and Fliss continued. “At first, I thought Septimus was raving. Magic isn’t real. Witches aren’t real. But then the more I thought about it, the more I started to doubt that. The fair winds everywhere we go, the thunderstorms when things don’t go your way, the way it’s always sunny in Havenport even though it can be raining down the coast. That time the wind slammed the door closed in matron’s face.”

Hester cradled her head in her hands, unsure how to answer.

“It is real, isn’t it? You can work the weather. And you never told me.”

“How could I? How could I tell anyone? You would have thought me a lunatic.”

“You told him.” Fliss’s voice cracked.

“I did not! He guessed.” Was Fliss jealous that he knew? That made two of them who were stupid and jealous. “Besides, there are things you did not tell me, too.”

“Yes,” Fliss folded her arms. “I am in love with Emlyn. But that is nothing compared to the secret you held. For all of our lives! I would not have thought you a lunatic.” She paused, adding, “No more than I already do, anyway.”

The corner of Hester’s mouth turned up. It was a relief in some ways. A huge relief. The secret had always felt so heavy. “What do the others think of me now?”

“They all believe Septimus is deranged. No one believes you are a witch. Don’t fret.”

Hester sagged. She had been so terrified that they would turn on her, that she would lose her crew, her friends. “Thank God. I don’t want them to know about the magic.”

“They wouldn’t care, Hess. They’d follow you to the ends of the Earth. They already have.”

Hester reached out, but Fliss stayed back and whispered, “But I cannot believe you didn’t tell me.”

Hester stood from the dressing table. “I wanted to. For so long I wanted to. I didn’t want to lose you, Fliss. Forgive me?”

“Perhaps. In time.”

And then she was gone, the door closing behind her. Hester let out a growl. So many times she had wanted to tell Fliss, but how did you even start in explaining that to someone? And now her secret was out, she feared for her friendships. It was real fear, sitting uncomfortably on her chest, like an anchor pulling her down.

Hester slumped forwards onto the dressing table, tears spilling onto the wood.

23rd June 1915, Weddell Sea

The Intrepid crew had moved into the Valour, though Septimus had refused and was sleeping outside in a tent. It would serve him right if they found a hole surrounded by his clothes. Hester didn’t give a shit.

She leant against the wall and glowered around the Ritz. Charlotte was throwing a party to try and cheer everyone up, Rufus on the banjo and Mei on the accordion, rum flowing freely. They were all there. All apart from him.

Another song began, the crowd of men and women cheering and dancing. Hester watched from across the room as Fliss and Emlyn danced, pressed together. At one time, Fliss would have danced with her. Things had changed.

She took a mouthful of her drink, then spat it out.

Emlyn had dropped down onto one knee.

Hester covered her mouth, her eyes widening. Emlyn took Fliss’s hand, and she nodded in answer to a question, her smile spreading wide.

A scream went up from Peggy and Betty, who stood close enough to hear.

Hester froze, horrified, her mouth hanging slack. The music screeched to a halt as the musicians ran from the stage to the happy couple, and Hester’s vision blurred through her tears.

“Well, well,” Winston said, ambling over. “A happy day.”

Hester nodded, biting her lower lip, blinking away the tears. She should feel happy for her friend. She should feel so happy. And yet…

Fliss came running over, dragging Emlyn with her. “We are going to be married!”

“Congratulations!” Hester hung back, fixing a smile to her face. Could Fliss tell it was fake?