Charlie's Last Visit Home

Arrival at Guildford

When Elizabeth hugged her brother, she could feel the bones of his back press sharply against her hand, through at least three layers of clothing (perhaps more; the winter was proving to be brutal.) She pulled back from him, flustered but not quite surprised, and gave him a stern look she hoped was as sharp as the ribs her palm had just encountered.

"Charles," she said gravely, foregoing his family pet name and trying to follow to elusive eyes—sometimes gray and sometime blue—that glanced away from her own. "You aren't eating."

He blinked once and frowned, as if this frank observation was not a fact, but a notion so impossible as to be considered nonsensical. But it wasn't nonsense—certainly not the brand of nonsense Charles was so apt at charming audiences with. This was serious, and they both knew it.

"Of course I am," Charles reassured her gently. The hand that settled on her shoulder, however, with its delicate skin no thicker than paper, white bones and blue veins showing clean through, was an active testament against him. Elizabeth was not fooled by her brother's subtle manipulation. She could see by the hollows around his eyes, the purplish bruising around their rims, that he wasn't sleeping either. His own body was acting as jury, and the odds were not in his favor.

"Step away from the door," she scolded briskly, ushering him inside their Guildford home (which, as the eldest brother, he had chosen for them years ago, when their father died). "You'll catch your death out there," she added half-heartedly; she was afraid he'd already done as much.

From the end of the hallway, a face appeared—nearly a mirror image of Charles' own: pale and oval, with a broad forehead, soft underbite, heavy eyelids, and stark cheekbones—all of framed by masses of curly brown hair shot through with silver (although Charles' was entirely silver by this time). The voice attached to it cried, "What, ho? Charlie's home for Christmas!"

In response to their brother's announcement, there came an eruption of cheers from the parlor.

Charles offered a smile rather too exhausted to be convincing, but hugged the party of siblings that greeted him at the door.