Ruth Warburton - Witch Hunt

And then he spoke.

‘I – I can’t come. To America.’

She did not speak, but whatever showed in her face made him tighten his grip round her and his words came rushing out like tears.

‘I wish I could . . . My God, Rose, you don’t know how much I . . . but I can’t. I wrote that book. I condemned those men and women and children. And I can’t leave that, I can’t leave it undone. Leadingham is dead, but the book is still there, and while it is, I can’t run away.’

‘Luke . . .’ she whispered, but the words wouldn’t come.

‘I could spend a lifetime trying to atone for what I did to you, but as long as your name is in that book, along with all the others, I’ll never manage. If we’re ever to be happy . . .’

He choked again and then scrubbed furiously at his eyes. His voice was cracked with tears.

‘I’d lay down my tools for you, Rose. I would become something else. I’d make any sacrifice for you, and gladly. D’you understand? But this – this I can’t lay down. It’s not me I’m sacrificing. It’d be them, you . I must go back. I must destroy it. And then I can rest.’

She felt his arms around her, feeling her heart swell and crack with love for him, and she did not cry. She could not cry. She only listened to the thrum of the ship and thought of the peaceful life an ocean away that they could have had. But she knew that he was right – that there would be no peace for him, no future for either of them, while that book seeped its black poison into London’s streets, and men, women and children that he had identified were condemned to death on his word.

‘Do you understand?’ he said again, and his voice broke. ‘Say something, Rose, please.’

She nodded. She had to force the words out, and when they came they were a whisper, but she made them come.

‘Yes. Yes, I understand.’ She swallowed and spoke more strongly. ‘But I cannot leave Cassie. Not now, not when I’ve promised her to come.’

‘I know.’ His voice was hoarse with tears. ‘I’m not asking you to stay. I don’t want you to stay. I want you to go – be happy – make a new life.’

They sat for a long time, wrapped in each other’s arms, remembering the days and nights they had held each other and thinking of the emptiness to come.

‘You look different,’ Luke said softly. ‘Your magic. It’s different. Did something change, in the fire?’

‘Perhaps –’ her throat was tight and sore, and she swallowed against the pain, ‘– perhaps it’s because I’m not afraid any more.’

The thrum of the engine increased to a whine and she forced herself to stand, pulling herself away from his clutching arms.

‘I love you,’ he said hopelessly. The tears ran down his cheeks.

‘I love you too. Now, go, before the ship leaves.’

‘I’ll come and find you, I promise.’ He kissed her, his tears on her lips, his arms so tight around her that it ached, but she did not care. She wanted to remember this always, to feel his bones imprinted on hers. ‘This Entwhistle – he’s a big man, by the sound of it. He won’t be hard to find. However long it takes, I will come. Will you wait?’

‘No, I won’t wait,’ she said, and she put his hand to his face, trying to smile at the sudden hurt she saw in his eyes. ‘For if you don’t come to me, I will find you. We will be together, Luke. Remember what Cassie said?’

‘She saw us,’ he managed. ‘Both of us. Happy.’

She nodded again.

The ship had begun to shudder and a bell was ringing up and down the corridor. ‘Shore visitors and workmen off the ship!’ someone was calling. ‘Ten minutes to embarkation! Visitors to shore!’

‘Go!’ she said, and her voice was fierce, almost angry.

‘I love you.’ He kissed her again, and again, on her face and her lips and her eyes and her throat, until she began to sob.

‘Go! Luke, please, p-please just go.’

He nodded, grabbed his bag and turned.

‘I love you!’ she cried after him, unable to bear it if that was the last he heard from her.

‘I love you too, Rose!’ he called back. ‘We’ll find each other, I swear it. I love you!’

And then his voice was drowned in the ringing of the embarkation bell.

Standing on the desk, Rosa watched as the great boat slid smoothly away from the bustling port. Somewhere in that throng of people was Luke, but from this great height she could not pick him out of the mill of caps and greatcoats.

Luke , she thought, sending her longing out, across the widening gulf of sea, not a spell, but just a heart’s cry of love. Be safe. Come back to me .

And somewhere out there, although she could not see him, she knew he was there. She felt it inside her, like a warmth that burnt against the chill breeze, picking up as they headed out of the port.

She looked away from the quay and turned into the wind, feeling its cold exhilaration on her face. And the boat turned to face America and the future.