partners within the community – we’re in danger of inbreeding already and it’s a constant worry to me. That’s one of the reasons I’ve really encouraged this age group to go on to college in the Outside World, even though some of them are clearly more suited to manual labour on the estate. I’ve pushed them into college just so they’ll meet partners who aren’t Stonewylders. And in that spirit, this Yule dance is an important step forward.’
‘I can appreciate that, Yul. As I said, I’m not against the dance. All I would say is firstly, expect some backlash from Martin and the older Stonewylders, the ones who grapple with any changes. All the members of the Council whom you didn’t consult when you made the decision to hold the dance. Think how you can make this easier for them to accept rather than just forcing them to do so.’
Yul bridled at this but Clip continued doggedly.
‘And secondly, think through how you intend to handle an influx of Outsiders to Stonewylde. I don’t mean now at the dance, but in the future if your plan is successful. Would they take part in our rituals? Would you allow them to bring Outside artefacts, clothes and gizmos into Stonewylde? You need to plan very carefully, to consider how it would work. Otherwise the whole thing could backfire and make a hell of a mess.’
Yul looked at his watch, eager to get on with his work. It was growing late and since Sylvie’s upset last month he was loath to sleep downstairs and leave her alone with the children all night.
‘Okay, Clip, I’ll bear it in mind. Now I’m sorry, but I really must—’
‘There was one more thing. How’s Sylvie?’
‘Sylvie? She’s fine.’
‘I’d heard some rumours … just gossip really, but I gather she had some kind of anxiety attack last month? And you may recall I was worried about her at Samhain, when I told you I’d step down this year?’
‘Just gossip, as you say. Nothing to worry about, but if you’re so concerned, why don’t you ask her yourself?’
After Clip had gone, Yul poured himself a drink and stood in the French window looking out at the garden beyond. The moon was almost full and the grass gleamed brightly, the crystals of dew on every blade reflecting the moonlight. Would Sylvie tell Clip what the problem was, he wondered? Because she certainly wasn’t telling him. She’d refused to discuss it, trying to gloss over both the incident at Hare Stone during the Owl Moon, and before that, the awful night at Samhain when she’d suddenly turned on him just as they were about to make love.
Memories of that night still haunted him. One minute she’d been eager and welcoming, kissing him and murmuring encouragement. And then suddenly, without any warning, she’d screamed and hit him in the face, rolling away and leaping out of bed. Apart from the horrible sense of rejection, she’d frightened him that night. Since then they’d managed to make love a few times but both knew it wasn’t right. Their beautiful love-making had turned into something mechanical and tense, and Yul longed for a return to their normal spontaneous and abandoned passion.
He’d tried to get Hazel involved, talking to her in detail of Sylvie’s irrational behaviour during both incidents. He was so worried that she was becoming psychotic again and had told the doctor that if this was the case, he thought they should act immediately this time and get help from the outset. Hazel, however, had remained non-committal and this had infuriated him. If she’d been more decisive last time, maybe they’d all have been spared the pain of seeing Sylvie falling apart before their eyes as the voices she claimed to hear became louder and more demanding, and her sense of reality dimmed. But here was Hazel once more advocating caution, once more telling him they must wait and see how it developed. Yul drained his glass and abandoned any further notions of work that night. He’d better take himself upstairs and make sure that Sylvie was alright. Harold and his warehouse packing issues would have to wait until morning, as would the shortage of felt hats.
‘I wish Auntie Leveret was still here,’ said Bluebell at breakfast. ‘I miss her now she’s gone back to the Village with Granny Maizie.’
‘So do I,’ said Celandine. ‘Auntie Leveret’s very magical.’
‘We can write some more of our story for her!’ said Bluebell. ‘She’d like that.’