The White House - Book 6, The Porth Kerensa Series

Chapter Thirteen

His voice was choked when he said hello and tears sprang to Elise’s eyes again.

“Come home, James,” she said, quietly.

“I can’t,” he whispered. “I don’t know what’s happening to us, Elise, but I can’t bear to see what I’ve done to you.”

“It’s just a bruise, it will fade away in a few days,” she replied, matter-of-factly. “Please, come home.”

Curiously, he asked, “Why don’t you hate me? How will you ever forgive me?”

“It wasn’t you, James,” she said, gently. “That wasn’t the man I’ve known half my life and there’s nothing to forgive. Just come home, when you’re ready. I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

She hung up and stood at the kitchen sink for a long time, staring out the window at the grey desolate sky.

      ******

James didn’t come home Sunday evening and Elise fell asleep on his bed, holding his pillow close to her chest. When she woke on Monday morning, lying on the attic floor again, she knew, instinctively, that he had not come back during the night and she was floundering without him. She tried ringing his phone when she’d showered and dressed, but it went straight to voice mail and she didn’t leave a message. 

She paced the kitchen, drinking coffee whilst she waited for the school day to start, and she ignored the sound of a child’s small footsteps running around in the attic. When the clock struck nine she picked up the phone and rang the school. She was surprised when the receptionist told her that Mr Morgan had called in sick and wasn’t expected back for a few days. She declined being put through to his voice box and hung up, sadly.

Never before, in all the years they’d been together, had he disappeared without telling her where he was or when he would be back. For the first time since their argument in the kitchen Elise began to feel angry with him. How could they sort anything out if he didn’t come home and talk to her? Did he think she wasn’t worried about him, or that she wouldn’t care if he never came back?

Didn’t he know she was lost without him?

      ******

The days crawled by and every morning Elise woke up on the attic floor with no recollection of how she had got there or what had drawn her to the room. The bruise on her cheek began to fade away and she covered the remnants of it with make-up every morning after her shower. She phoned James’ mobile every day, even though it went straight to the voice mail. She wondered if he’d gone back to Kent and if the next contact between them would be divorce papers dropping onto the doormat one morning in the not too distant future.

She started her days with the intention of being productive; however, every evening she realised she’d spent the day staring into space, oblivious to everything. She was rudderless without James. There was no point to her days and no motivation. Yet, as if out of habit, every evening she snapped back into existence and made a show of cleaning up the house and making a small meal to eat in front of the telly, wondering if James would come back that night.

      ******

When he finally walked in the door on Thursday evening she stared at him, shocked, and unsure if he was just another one of her hallucinations. He stood, awkwardly, at the top of the stairs, barely able to meet her eyes.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she stammered. “I didn’t make enough dinner for you…I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know why I was so angry, Elise,” he said, humbly. “What I did was unforgivable and I wouldn’t blame you if you tell me our marriage is over. I should never have even raised my hand to you, let alone hit you.”

Elise winced at the memory of their fight in the kitchen and she put her plate of pasta on the table. She stood up and approached him with her arms out. Without saying a word he stepped into her embrace and she clung to him, tightly.

“I’m glad you came home, James,” she whispered. “I missed you and there’s nothing to forgive. Let’s put it behind us.”

Even as he nodded and kissed the top of her head he wondered how long she thought they could keep running away from the things behind them.

      ******

To James’ surprise Elise went to bed before him in her own room. He was glad she hadn’t asked to join him for he couldn’t find the words to tell her he didn’t want to sleep with her. He couldn’t risk making love to her because he wasn’t ready to lose himself to her all over again. The five nights away from her had cleared his head a little and he was determined to keep some distance between them. They couldn’t keep on tearing each other to pieces and he couldn’t allow her to confuse him with overtures he didn’t understand.

Even so, he was lonely when he finally went to bed.

He woke in the middle of the night, yanked from the nightmare he’d been having by a noise he couldn’t place when he sat up in bed. He listened for a moment or two, wondering if he’d heard Elise on one of her nightly rambles, but the house was as silent as a thick sea fog. He got up, slipped his dressing gown on and stepped out into the hallway.

Cold air swirled around him, making him shiver. He gasped and pulled his robe tighter around himself. His breath puffed out in little clouds and he hurried over to the window, wondering if Elise had opened it, but the window was closed. Quietly, he pushed open Elise’s door to check her windows. She was sleeping, peacefully, curled up on her side and all the windows were shut, yet still the coldness persisted.

He stepped back into the hallway and glanced up the attic stairwell. The door was open and suddenly he was sure the chill he felt was emanating from the top floor of the house. He flicked the light switch on, but nothing happened and he sighed, irked. It was late, he was tired and he couldn’t be bothered to go upstairs and fumble around in the dark trying to close the bloody windows. He grabbed a spare blanket from the airing cupboard and went back to bed.

He didn’t see the dark figure in the shadows, standing at the top of the stairs, watching him and frowning.