Healing - Book One

fourteen

Six days until the wedding. I sit on the garden bench with a cup of tea and a book, soaking up the last of the afternoon sun before I change for supper. There is a slight breeze swirling within the garden wall; it silently blows my curls about my face.

"What are you reading?"

I look up from my book towards where the voice came from. Enoch has joined me on the bench without a sound, but I am not startled. His hair has also been tousled by the wind, he adjusts a ringlet with his forefinger.

"Hungry Hill - I found it in the living room. I'm quite enjoying it so far." I replace the ribbon inside the novel and close it, sensing that he wanted to speak. "How is everything?"

"No change. Turns out that they had the funeral without me - s'pose they didn't want to 'frighten' any of the guests." He chuckles, but it is almost definitely forced.

"Right." There is a pause between subjects; the tree's leaves rustle in the breeze. "How about Olive?"

"Clingy as ever. The lass is needy." Enoch sighs, sounding emotionally exhausted. "I'm glad she survived but, I wish there was another way I could have saved her. She's gotten too attached."

"What do you mean?" I ask, clueless at his words.

"You must know! She was tittle-tattlin' away to anyone who would listen when she realised what I'd done!" His cheeks begin to flush a rosy pink. "Ever heard of the fairytales when the prince has to save the princess with a 'kiss of life?'"

He kissed her to save her, I think to myself. A tiny rush of je ne sais quoi swells inside my stomach. Surprised at myself, I metaphorically brush the feeling away and focus back on the conversation between Enoch and I. His eyes look at me a little mournfully.

"Was there any meaning to it? Surely you couldn't have just kissed her for no reason?"

"Heat of the moment, Violet, ever heard of it?" He snarls, his tone suddenly angry. However his expression quickly softens again. "Sorry. I guess I am irritated at myself for getting into this mess."

"It's alright. You just have to talk to her about it - I thought she might have got the message that night in the kitchen-"

"She almost did, but..." Enoch's head rolls to face the floor as his voice trails away.

"But what?" I try to prompt him, but I can already senae he's regretting what just slipped from his mouth.

"We sort of made up, if you know what I mean." He says quietly.

I think I do know what he means, and the odd feeling returns for a second. It must have shown on my face, as he is quick to follow up his statement:

"Not quite what you're thinking! But, almost."

"Almost?" I say - that could mean anything.

"Almost." He replies, reluctant to elaborate on the subject. His eyes don't meet mine, his thumbs fiddle as they're suspended between his knees.

More silence. I consider starting to read again, but decide against it.

"Will you come to the wedding? Or are you going to stay here all lonely and miserable?" I ask him, elbowing him playfully.

"I'd rather be lonely and miserable at home." The mood sinks, I may even say I'm disappointed.

"That sounds like a sad story plot." I mutter under my breath, but he hears.

"I prefer sad stories. Especially when they can't save the princess and the everyone in the castle gets eaten by the dragon." Enoch stares dead ahead, his dark eyes glazed.

Eager to divert my attention away from the depressing image before me, I look up at the house. My pupils trace each brick until something catches my eye.

The top right window - somebody stands there, watching us. That person is Olive. Her fists are tightly clenched and, even from afar, I can see the tension in her neck and jaw. I decide now is a good time to leave.

"I'll see you at supper?" I say quickly, pushing myself from my seat, book clutched to my chest and cup abandoned on the table next to the armrest. I start towards the door as soon as Enoch nods in response.

However, my fast escape is not so successful. After passing through the conservatory I literally run into Olive, almost sending her flying. The obviously agitated girl steadies her stance and gets closer to me so our noses are almost touching, even though I am a little taller than her. She must be standing on tiptoes.

"Isn't it funny how people can go from worst enemies to best friends in a matter of days?" Her voice cracks every now and again, emphasising her upset.

"I don't know what you mean."

"I think you do, Violet. Stay away from him." Olive hisses, before stomping out of the back door.