Sara Foster - Beneath the Shadows

She stood back. ‘I’m Grace, I live at Hawthorn Cottage.’

He gave no indication that he’d heard her. Instead he went back into the cottage for a moment, then came out holding something small, which he offered to one of the owls. It was snatched in an instant from his outstretched fingers. As the bird gripped the item in his talon and began to tear at it, Grace saw it was a dead mouse. She watched as skin was ripped away to reveal raw red flesh, feeling revolted.

‘Er, thank you!’ she said after a while, unable to bear it any longer. The old man didn’t even acknowledge her, heading back towards his cottage again.

She let herself out through the gate, unsure whether to go home to try and make peace, or carry on walking. As she wavered, the door to the redbrick house opened, and Ben emerged with Bess on a lead. He raised a hand when he saw her, and then did the same to Jack, who was heading back across his garden. The old man called, ‘Now then,’ as he offered the second owl a dead mouse.

‘I was going to come and see you later,’ Ben said as he drew near. ‘To find out when you want to start work again on your cottage?’

Grace smiled. ‘As soon as possible, but I think I need to wait until the others have left. It’s far too crowded in there at the moment.’

Her face or voice must have reflected her downcast thoughts, as Ben asked, ‘Everything all right?’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Not really.’ She bit back the tears, feeling foolish, not wanting to cry in front of him.

‘Would you like to take a walk with me and Bess? You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. We’ll just keep you company.’

‘That would be good. Though I can’t leave Millie for too long.’

‘Don’t worry – we weren’t going far anyway. Perhaps we won’t go through the fields this time, eh?’

As she laughed despite herself, she saw the lines around his eyes deepen as he grinned.

They were only gone for half an hour, but Grace felt so much better on her return to the cottage. They had walked in silence for a while, then Ben had begun to talk about the plans for the renovations, what they should do next. She had confessed her worries about the time it might take, and he had reassured her, saying that once they got started and she could see it all unfolding she’d feel a lot better.

When she got home, however, her mood came crashing down again. Millie was fractious and clung to her. Annabel took herself off upstairs while James fixed them all lunch. Grace tried to talk to him but he gave her one-word answers, and she could feel the anger radiating from him even though his back was turned. She wondered if he was still upset at their earlier disagreement, but whatever it was, nothing could shake him out of it.

In the evening, after Millie had gone to bed, they got out a deck of cards and went through the motions, but no one had their heart in it. Grace tried to tell them about her encounter with Feathery Jack and his owls, but could see they weren’t interested. She was debating whether she could excuse herself for bed at eight o’clock without inviting a barrage of sarcasm when, without warning, they were plunged into blackness.

‘What the hell…?’ Annabel cried.

‘I’ve seen the mains box down in the cellar.’ Grace sighed, thinking that it was the perfect end to the day. ‘I’ll get a torch and check it out.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ she heard James say, and then there came the sound of his chair scraping along the floor as he stood up.

Grace collected the torch, and they made their way along to the cellar. She went gingerly down the steps, feeling James close behind her. At the bottom, she directed the torch beam towards the wall, shining it along until she located the box. ‘Right,’ she said, ‘the switch should be in there…’

‘Wait a minute, Grace,’ James said. She swung around, and he took the torch from her. She briefly made out his eyes in the dim light, the contrast between the white sclerae and dark irises. Then she felt his fingers brush her cheek, and his lips were pressing against hers.

Grace was stunned. James took this as a welcome sign, and dropped the torch, hands cupping her face now, kissing her harder. As he wrapped his arms around her, pressing her into him, her body began to crave this physical contact, and she collapsed against him, kissing him back. He was so solid, so reassuring. In the dark it might not be James. It could be anyone – and the tremble that ran through her had a thrill of desire in it. She was dissolving, becoming a million tangled threads of sensation, when the lights snapped back on.

And something else clicked into place in her head.

James opened his eyes, as Grace watched him with the horrible realisation that their friendship had just turned in on itself. She saw the small flicker of his eyes trying to reach her, searching for somewhere he might comfortably settle within her gaze; and the dull veils of disappointment that descended as he found none. His whole body seemed to pull itself into a stiffer pose with one enormous effort of will, and he bent down to pick up the dropped torch. Grace knew they had just lost something between them that might never be found again.

‘Come on.’ He headed for the stairs without looking back, and she followed him.

Upstairs, Annabel looked bemusedly at both their faces. ‘What happened?’

‘The lights came on before we even touched the box,’ Grace said.

‘Really?’ Annabel glanced around. ‘Perhaps this cottage does have a ghost, after all – switching the lights on and off and stopping and starting the clock.’

‘Don’t say that.’

Annabel saw Grace’s face and laughed. ‘Come on, I was joking. Don’t get paranoid on me. Now, where were we?’

James picked up his cards, took a brief look at them and threw them back on the table. ‘I’m done,’ he said. ‘Think I’ll have an early night. It’s time I went home – I’ve got a long drive tomorrow.’

Annabel stared at him in astonishment, then at Grace for an explanation.

Grace pursed her lips, and glanced away.

They left James buried under a duvet on the sofa, and went up to bed. They both got ready in silence and then Grace put out the light. She lay there, knowing Annabel was awake.

‘Something happened between you two just then,’ Annabel said.

Grace didn’t reply.

‘You’re all over the place, Grace. You have to make up your mind what you want before we can help you.’

Grace heard Annabel roll over, and gathered that was her sister’s way of saying goodnight.

James was up and ready to leave by the time Grace headed downstairs with Millie the next morning. She put Millie on the floor, and then looked at him, weighing up how much she dared to say. ‘Don’t leave like this,’ she pleaded.

James came across to her and stroked her cheek, his face so forlorn that it made her want to cry. ‘It’s been lovely spending Christmas with you, Grace,’ he said. ‘But nothing’s ever going to change, is it?’

He knelt on the ground next to Millie. ‘Bye, little lady.’

Millie crawled rapidly over to Grace and clung to her mother’s leg.

‘I’m always here for you,’ he told her fiercely, getting to his feet. He picked up his bags and walked towards the door. ‘Say goodbye to Annabel for me.’

And then he let himself out.

Grace stood by the door, using all her strength to resist the urge to follow him. She knew it would be for her own comfort, and would intimate to James that she wanted something more than his friendship. It wasn’t fair to do that to him. So she listened to his car starting up and driving off, the engine noise getting fainter and fainter until it petered out. Then she sat down, feeling bereft, studying the frost that had formed intricate patterns on the window.