of himself.” It was strange to hear her father speaking that way. He never usually had a bad word to say about people. Still, what he said about Mr. Bolitho was tame in comparison to the thoughts he had shared regarding Tom’s father. “I should really make the effort to go in. I cannot stay here forever, festering in these pajamas. Perhaps if I make an appearance, they will lose interest and leave us in peace.”
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth said, although she doubted a fast resolution. A strange death would take some getting over for most folk.
“Plus, I must put a stop to this indecorous intrusion of James being here before you’re married.” Elizabeth thought that perhaps it was exactly the kind of gossip they needed to take the focus off her father. An unwed couple. Cohabitating. Simply dreadful, Mrs. Anderson would say. But Elizabeth was going to have to get used to gossip soon enough. All that she could hope for was that Tom would be back in time to help share the burden.
“It’s not like he is sleeping in my room, Daddy. He is here as a friend to help.” If he weren’t, she would be alone, and right now, with everything going on, she couldn’t face that either.
Her father shook his head. “The sooner the wedding takes place, the better. Plus, it’ll give us all something to look forward to.” He finished his tea, took a long breath. It crossed Elizabeth’s mind to ask him about his past with Mrs. Hale then, but it was so close to her mother’s death that she couldn’t bring herself to do it. “You have been quite wonderful these past few weeks, have taken such good care of me after the awful things that were said. I want you to know how much I appreciate it, and how very proud I am of you.”
“You’re welcome, Daddy.” How she was going to straighten things out between their two families once Tom returned, she still had no idea. What Tom’s father had suggested remained unforgiveable. But once Tom was back, they had no other option but to try. Things did seem to have blown over a little. Elizabeth had overheard the whispers surrounding her mother’s death, shock at her inexplicable presence on a boat and over the terrible things implied by Tom’s father. People, she was beginning to realize, loved to have something to ponder, extrapolating the how and why until they had their own, more exciting version of the truth. But the gossip had quieted now, and she thought perhaps enough for the unification of their families, once Tom came home. The flame of hope was weak, but it burned still, and it warmed her.
“You are such a wonderful girl. You will make James a very happy man. Now,” he said as he stood up and drained his tea. “I’m going to get dressed and have a walk along to the clinic. I think it’s about time, don’t you?”
It was about time, that was true. But it was also the time for something else: the truth. When she thought about telling him, the tremor of trepidation hit her so hard, she sometimes couldn’t breathe. Telling her father that which she must left her even more anxious than the idea of telling James. But there was no going back now, because the letter was already on its way to Wolf Rock, meaning she had no choice but to await the most terrifying thing of all: What the hell would Tom say when he found out?
Dearest Tom,
It still feels unreal that I am here without you, and that I must resort to writing you a letter. It seems an almost impossible feat for it to reach you in your current location. But to write it is the only thing I can do until you return. Please tell me that you are coming back soon. I promise you that I am counting the days.
Since you left, I walk each night down Cove Hill and climb the steps until I reach the fork in the path that leads to the rocks. Although I admit it frightens me to go there after the fall I took, somewhere within the black of the horizon you are painted, as a flickering light to guide people to safety. I wait for the light each night to prove to me that you are still alive. When I see it shining, I can imagine you here, with me, as if the distance between us