Page 34 of The Last Casterglass
Althea shook her head, and Seph felt a pang of that old homesickness wash over her. Althea and John, Will and Olivia, Rose and Sam… She really was alone, whether she lived in this place or not.
And if she didn’t live in this cottage, and Rose and Sam, Olivia and Will were taking over the castle…well, then maybe there wasn’t a place for her at Casterglass anymore. And, she reflected glumly, there didn’t seem to be a place for her anywhere else, either.
Chapter Thirteen
“Can I showyou something?”
Oliver registered the hesitant note in Seph’s voice and answered immediately. “Yes, of course you can. Have you been working on a sculpture?”
“No, nothing like that.” She shook her head. “I mean, I have been, but this is something else altogether. Something I’d like your opinion on.”
“Okay.” Oliver regarded her closely, trying to figure out her mood. They were sitting in her workshop, having their usual coffee, and he’d sensed that Seph was a bit subdued, although he hadn’t asked her about it. He’d wanted to wait for her to mention whatever it was that seemed to be getting her down, and now, maybe, she was about to. “Where is it, this thing you want to show me?” he asked. “Is it in here? Should we play twenty questions?”
She smiled at that, although he noticed it didn’t reach her eyes. “No, it’s on the other side of the property. You’ll need your boots.”
“Now I’m really intrigued.” He wondered if this had anything to do with the exciting plans Althea had been developing, which she’d been so sure Seph would be thrilled about. That had been three days ago, and Seph certainly didn’t seem thrilled now. “Shall I get my boots on now?”
“If you don’t mind.” She let out a small, defeated sigh that tore at his heart. Whatever was bothering her, he really hoped he could help.
Five minutes they were both suited up in winter coats and boots, heading across the field on the far side of the castle, that stretched all the way to the sea. It was a cold, grey afternoon, the kind of day when the sky felt as if it were pressing down on the world, and the sun was entirely hidden. Oliver buried his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat as he tucked his head low against the relentless wind from the sea.
“Is everything ready for the wedding, do you think?” he asked as they walked. He’d been spending most of his days either in the orchard or office, but he had seen people hurrying to and fro, and yesterday he’d accepted delivery of two dozen poinsettia plants for the great hall.
“I think so. Althea is like a whirling dervish, but I think she’s mostly there. Ben and Poppy are coming back tomorrow, and I’m sure they’ll help, too, and in any case it’s a relatively small affair, isn’t it? Only family and a very few close friends.”
“True, although with a family this size…”
“Yes,” Seph agreed, and gave another one of those dispirited sighs. “Exactly.”
“So where are we going?” he asked, nodding towards the muddy fielding stretching out in front of them. “Because the answer to that appears to be the sea.”
“Close to it,” Seph agreed. “You’ll see when you get there.” She tucked her chin low and picked up her pace.
Ten minutes later they’d finally reached the end of the field and clambered over a stile to a single-track lane. There was nothing in sight but the sea and a couple of miserable-looking cottages right on the road.
“Those are something of an eyesore,” Oliver remarked. “Do you think they’ll be torn down?”
Seph let out a rather hollow laugh and then fished a key from her pocket. “No, unfortunately not,” she replied, and then she went to the cottage on the end and unlocked the door.
With a growing sense of trepidation, Oliver followed her. Inside the place was dismal—musty, mildewy, the appliances in the kitchen a good fifty years old. Floorboards creaked as he walked across the tiny lounge to the three-bar electric fire in one wall, now full of mouse droppings.
“So,” Seph asked, injecting a bright note into her voice that rang extremely false, “what do you think?”
Oliver turned slowly around in a circle as he took in the full dismalness of the room. “I think,” he said after a moment, “that it’s utterly awful.”
Seph let out a bubble of laughter, but before Oliver had even registered her, her expression collapsed, and she put her hands up to her face as her shoulders shook.
Shocked and appalled, Oliver took a few steps towards her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that—not…not exactly. It has potential, of course—”
She let out another shaky laugh as she shook her head. “No, it doesn’t,” she said through her fingers, and despite her sadness, he felt a wave of relief that he wasn’t causing her tears. “It’s horrible,” she continued, her voice choking again. “Utterly horrible. I hate it.”
“I think you’re sensible, then.” He took another cautious step towards her, longing to take her in his arms and comfort her, but not quite daring to. “Why did you bring me here?”
“Because Althea wants me to live here.”
“What?” Oliver looked around again, appalled. The castle was shabby, it was true, but it was a grand, comfortable shabbiness, not like this little cottage, which just felt sad.
“She said I could do it up, of course,” Seph continued, sniffing. “Withinreason. But Sam and Rose and Will and Olivia are taking over the castle… They want to have their own self-contained flats, and so there won’t be room for me.” A sob escaped her, and her shoulders hunched.