Infinite Spring Read online

  Anais felt guilty and a bit silly for worrying. Of course, Aethelu would feel awful after the day they’d had. She made a mental note to do everything she could to cheer Aethelu up, starting tomorrow. Tonight she would let her sleep. Of course, it would mean getting herself mobile. She’d spent most of the last few weeks in this bed because of the damage to her leg. Today proved she could move around, albeit slowly. She would take Anais out somewhere--anywhere! They would enjoy the fresh air. She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that she hardly noticed Rafe heading towards the door. It was only when she heard the soft creaking of the door being opened that she looked up.

  “Where are you going?”

  Rafe looked surprised by the question.

  “I’m going downstairs. Why? Do you need anything else?”

  Anise looked down once again at her dinner. There was nothing else that she needed, but she really wanted some company. Her room was beautiful. Gold and black damask wallpaper, thick red carpet and a chandelier adorned the room, but there was no form of entertainment in here. There was not even a window to look out of. The thought of spending the next few hours sitting here by herself was too much.

  “Please stay and talk to me,” she asked as politely as she could. She had had a stilted relationship with Rafe right from the first time they had met when he had slit his own throat to prove he was immortal. However, company was company, and she didn’t want to be alone after such an emotion-filled day.

  If Rafe was surprised by her first question, it was nothing compared to how surprised he looked at this one. He did nothing to conceal it either.

  “Why?”

  “I’m just lonely; Aethelu usually talks to me.”

  “I’ve not eaten myself yet. I was planning on eating in the dining room with the rest of the family.”

  “Oh.” Anais gave a downcast look, which obviously gave Rafe a change of heart.

  “Ok, I suppose I could bring my food up here.” He made it sound like he was doing her a huge favour. “But I can’t stay long. Alex has taken over watch on Jago and I promised him I wouldn’t be too long.”

  Rafe left the room swiftly to get his dinner. Unlike most of the Guardians, Rafe had chestnut hair. His white locks were dyed meticulously to look natural, more normal. He even dyed his goatee beard. Despite his hair colour, he still dressed as though he was in the Victorian age. Today, for example, he was wearing a grey suit with a grey waistcoat and pointed black shoes. He always carried a cane topped with a silver tiger’s head although Anais knew he could walk perfectly and it was just for show.

  A few minutes later he came back with his own silver tray, identical to Anais’ except it was devoid of the cupcake. Unlike Aethelu, who usually hopped up onto the bed to eat, he brought forward a chair that was in the room and sat there, placing the tray delicately on his knees.

  Now that he was here, Anais didn’t know what to say. Rafe looked totally consumed with his dinner and did nothing to break the silence.

  They both sat quietly eating, until Anais could stand it no more.

  “So, Jago then?” It wasn’t really a question, just a way to break the tension and start a conversation.

  “Mmmm?” replied Rafe without even looking up from his meal. He obviously wasn’t going to make this easy for her.

  “What is he like?” She actually didn’t really want to know what he was like. He’d murdered her parents and caused her such misery, which was all she really needed to know about him. However, she didn’t fancy sitting with Rafe in her room in silence for the next couple of hours, so she persisted. “I mean, what does he say?”

  Rafe chewed on a piece of chicken and swallowed before answering her. “He doesn’t say anything at all.”

  “About what he has done?”

  “About anything. He’s not said a single word in three weeks, besides asking to use the bathroom.”

  “He’s not spoken at all?” Anais was incredulous.

  “Not whilst he’s awake at least.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He talks in his sleep. Keeps repeating the same name over and over again. When I ask him who it is, he clams up again.”

  “What name does he say?” asked Anais, thinking he might be calling out one of her parents’ names in a fit of remorse. She was surprised by the answer. It was no one she knew.

  “Sabine.”

  “Sabine? Who’s she?”

  “I told you, I don’t know. He won’t tell me. Does it matter? It could be his pet cat for all that it’s relevant. The question is, what are we going to do with him? I have to admit, it’s getting rather irksome having to sit in the cellar all the time to make sure he doesn’t escape. Not that he could. He is chained up day and night and the only way out is through a thick metal door that needs a key code and fingerprint of a Guardian to open. I wish someone would make a decision about how to dispose of him, and soon.”

  “Dispose of him? Do you suggest we kill him?”

  “I don’t see why not. I don’t see that we have any choice unless one of us spends the next millennia in the cellar. It sure as hell won’t be me. I have better things to do with my time. I fancy a trip out of the country.”

  “What does Aldrich say?”

  “I think Aldrich is waiting for you to get better so he can call a family meeting, and we can discuss it together. He was probably waiting for the funeral to be done with, so don’t be surprised if he calls a meeting in the next few days, not that there is much of the family left. Auntie Ava and Uncle Freddie left last week, Cousin Audsley left not long after, Arcadia left the second she was free to go and Andrew, although here in body, is still locking himself in his room and refusing to talk to anyone. Of course, we need someone to watch Jago at all times, which will leave six of us for a meeting. It’s hardly worth it, but that’s what Aldrich wants.”

  Anais didn’t know how to reply but was saved from having to by Rafe getting out of his chair. He took his tray in one hand and doffed an imaginary hat to her.

  “I must take my leave, Alex is waiting for me. It was nice talking to you.” With that, he left the room, taking his tray with him.

  Anais noticed he had left her tray behind. She looked at the clock. It was not quite six o’clock yet. She sat and pondered everything that Rafe had said for a few minutes. She had to admit that killing Jago did seem like the only option. He had shown how dangerous he was. His complete disregard for humanity placed him at such a high-risk factor that letting him go free was not an option at all. Still, the thought of killing anyone, even her parent’s murderer left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.

  She briefly wondered who Sabine was. She didn’t know, but she suspected it was not a pet cat like Rafe had said. Curiosity was beginning to build. She shrugged it off and looked around the room for something to occupy herself. She’d forgotten to ask for more books from the library, and the few she did have, she’d already read. She decided to go try knocking on Andrew’s door again. She knew it was a waste of time, even as she picked up her crutches, but if she wanted to get stronger on her leg and go outside with Aethelu, she would have to exercise and build up her muscles. She would also have to get used to using her crutches without a family member to help her.

  She pulled herself up using one of the crutches and slowly made her way to the door. Opening it was awkward, and she managed to knock it into her leg causing her to cry out in pain. She held her breath for a few seconds until the pain subsided before making her way through the door and down the corridor to the room next door. She tentatively knocked as she had done many times before.

  “Andrew. It’s me, Anais.”

  Nothing.

  “Just checking to see if you are ok.” She listened. He was definitely in there as she could just about hear him through the door. She knocked again.

  “It’s just me tonight. I’m feeling lonely, too. Do you want to talk?” Still nothing. She turned to make her way back to her room and was surprised to hear the door click softly open b
ehind her. She turned and saw Andrew looking out at her.

  Now that the door had opened, she didn’t quite know what to say. She felt as though she should say something inspiring and comforting, but she couldn’t think of anything. She settled on “Are you ok?”

  He opened his door fully and beckoned her into his room. Despite having the room next door, she had never seen the inside of Andrew’s room before. She had expected it to be filled with gadgets and gizmos with wires leading everywhere so she was surprised to find that it looked like a normal room. Spotlessly tidy and rather drab compared to the rest of The Manor. It looked a little like a student’s room in a hall of residence. Unlike the rest of The Manor, which had expensive patterned wallpaper and a chandelier in every room, this one was painted cream and had a very boring lampshade, also in cream. The bed was nothing like her four poster. It was not an antique at all, just a normal divan single bed with a duvet in blue checks and a pillow to match. There was one computer (Anais didn’t know why, but she had expected many of them), currently turned off. There was little to show any personality in the room. A couple of framed pictures of chess pieces adorned the walls in cheap frames. They were the type of picture that was mass produced and was trying, and failing, to be artsy. The shelves held books, mostly on computer languages, some on electrical circuits, no novels. A row of DVDs stood next to the books, all adventure films, such as Indiana Jones, Tomb Raider, and Goonies. She now understood where Andrew got his ideas for secret passageways. It certainly explained why the house had secret rooms and passages. Apart from his obvious love of adventure films, there was little else to show his personality. He had hand carved a beautiful chess set depicting all the family in intricate detail, so she knew he had a creative mind. The only thing he had in his room to show this was a small wooden statue. She recognised the woman straight away. It was Judith. The only other personal item in the room was a single photograph of them both, taken in front of the house, knee deep in snow. Both were wrapped up warmly against the weather, arms around each other and smiles on their faces. They made a strange pair, Andrew, so white, he almost blended into the snow and Judith, with her ebony skin, that somehow managed a healthy pink glow on her cheeks from the cold weather. Both looked radiantly happy in the photo, which Anais knew could not be more than a couple of months old.

  Looking at Andrew now, he looked nothing like the man in the photo. He was still ever so pale, but he had black rings under his eyes. Instead of looking the picture of health, he looked tired, thin, frail, even. He was not crying at the moment, but his red eyes showed that he had been recently. He sat on the bed and was silent.

  Anais walked over to the statue of Judith. It wasn’t really a statue, as such, a bust, really, as it just showed her head and shoulders. It was amazingly lifelike and accurate. She picked it up and ran her fingers over its smooth polished surface.

  “Why don’t you fly out to her?”

  “I can’t.” Even his voice sounded empty, devoid of any emotion.

  “Why not?” She sat next to him on the bed, careful not to touch him, as he had not had any human contact for a while and would no doubt give her the electric shock of The Light.

  “I can’t,” he repeated. His eyes downcast as if he was looking at his knees.

  “Just book a flight and go. What is stopping you?” She couldn’t understand it. He had the money for the ticket. Thanks to generations of life and some canny business decisions of Arcadia’s, they were all very well off. A flight to Kenya would be a drop in the ocean for them.

  “I can’t fly. I’m scared of flying.”

  Anais was not expecting that answer at all.

  “Well, that doesn’t sound like too much of a problem. I mean, there are ways around it--Hypnotherapy? Deep breathing exercises? As a last resort, you could take some heavy-duty sleeping tablets just before you set off and sleep the entire journey. It would barely feel like you’ve flown at all.”

  “I don’t think you understand. I feel physically sick, just thinking about flying. I think I would pass out just going to an airport. I can’t do it.”

  “I will help you. You can overcome this. When I’m better, we will drive to the airport, just sit in the car park if needs be. We can go every day until you feel you are able to go in. I don’t even mind catching a flight to Kenya with you if that’s what it takes.”

  “It won’t work, I really can’t do it.”

  Anais had a few fears in her life. She wouldn’t be too happy if a snake slithered into her room, for example, but she’d never had such a phobia that prevented her from doing anything. She sympathised with Andrew. For a short period, she and Aethelu had been separated and it had been unimaginable torment, not knowing if she was safe. Thankfully, Aethelu had come home safe and sound. Anais could still remember the pain she felt in her absence.

  She placed her hand on Andrew’s arm.

  “Why don’t you just invite her back here then? She loved the place and the danger is over now. Jago is caught. There is nothing stopping her.”

  “I’ve asked her and she said no. She said that there were too many secrets in the house.” Anais remembered back to when Judith was living in the house before. It was before Jago was caught and she had to admit there was a lot kept from her. She didn’t know that the family was virtually immortal, for a start. It must have all seemed very strange to her. Anais had a pang of guilt. She’d not taken the time to get to know Judith, mainly because she had been going through so much herself. Still, it would have been nice if she had.

  “I’m sure she will change her mind. I’m sure you can change her mind.”

  “Perhaps.” He didn’t seem too sure. Anais moved as if to put her arms around him, but he shied away from her.

  Anais really didn’t know what to say to make things better.

  “I felt the same when Aethelu left to go to France. It really was the most awful feeling, and the worst part is, people keep telling you to get over it as if you are suffering no more than a common cold.”

  Andrew looked up at her and smiled sadly. “That’s exactly how I feel, like I should be up and about and acting as if my heart doesn’t feel as if it’s been ripped out of my rib cage, but I can’t.”

  “I don’t think anyone thinks that. These things take time. You take as much as you need. No one thinks any less of you. I’ll always be there if you want someone to talk to. You know where I am, just next door.” She felt useless, spitting out all these clichés, one after the other, but she was having trouble knowing what to say. It did seem pretty hopeless for the pair if Andrew couldn’t get on a plane, and Judith was refusing to come back to Britain. She always suspected that Andrew loved Judith more fiercely than she did him, but it was not very well something she could verbalise to Andrew.

  “Thank you,” he replied. Anais could see he was having trouble keeping back the tears. She decided it would be kinder just to leave him to cry. She didn’t want him feeling embarrassed on top of everything else. She felt sorry for him. Judith had been the love of his life. In six hundred years, she was the first girlfriend he’d ever had, largely due to the invention of the internet, she suspected, as Andrew never seemed to leave the house. Perhaps the beautiful Judith would change her mind. She did seem to enjoy being at The Manor for the short time she was there. Anais just didn’t know.

  Leaving the room, she turned towards her own before stopping. It was still too early to sleep. Now would be the perfect opportunity to practice walking on her crutches without some worried family member fussing around her. She did a complete one eighty and hobbled down the corridor as fast as her crutches would take her. Walking on the flat was easy, but this morning was the first time she’d tackled stairs with them, and then she’d had Aethelu, Winnie and Alex helping her. She had been brought up to her room when her injury was fresh, the men of the house carrying her on a stretcher. For three weeks, she had been confined to the third floor of The Manor and she was beginning to get thoroughly sick of it. She held one crutch
in her hand, leaving the other one firmly in place under her arm. With her now free hand, she held on to the bannister. The crutch went first, sinking into the deep pile of the carpet on the step. She gripped the bannister tightly as she hopped down to join it, being careful not to hurt her injured leg. A few deep breaths later, and she repeated the procedure. It took her a full ten minutes to get to the bottom of the stairs, but she made it. She felt elated and momentarily had the idea of going to Aethelu’s room to show off her accomplishment. She decided that if what Rafe had told her was true, then there was a good chance that Aethelu was asleep, and she didn’t want to wake her. She, instead, headed for the grand staircase that led down to the entranceway and the big oak doors. Taking one step at a time, she slowly made her way down the stairs, looking at the Victorian portraits of the Guardians that lined the walls. She stopped for a moment, as she always did, when she got to her dad’s portrait. She gave it a smile and then stood, not knowing where to go next. The entrance hall was deserted, although she could hear sounds coming from the dining room and parlour. She’d not actually put much thought into where she was headed when she started off down the stairs, and now she didn’t know where to go. She could be sociable and join family members for the evening or go to the library and quietly read. Something Rafe said had stirred something in her though and before she knew it, she was making her way to the kitchen door to the left of the staircase. The kitchen door opened onto a spiral staircase, which would be much more difficult to manoeuvre on her crutches. The only way she could think to do it was to throw one of her crutches over the balustrade, whilst using the same method of crutch and bannister to hop down. She threw the crutch over, and it landed with a terrible clatter on the polished tile floor. She hadn’t expected it to be so loud, but no one came to investigate the noise, so she carried on slowly down the winding steps. It turned out to be much more difficult than the other stairs had been. Narrower stairs impeded her ability to use the crutch effectively, and the winding of the staircase did nothing to help either. At the bottom, she had to hop over to the fallen crutch, and with much struggling and balance a gymnast would be grateful for, she managed to pick it up. Once back with two crutches, it was relatively easy to hobble round the giant oak table, past the big range cooker to the pantry door.