The White House - Book 6, The Porth Kerensa Series

Chapter Fourteen

The weekend passed with the two of them tiptoeing politely around one another and staying in separate rooms. James spent most of the time in his bedroom, marking papers and preparing lessons. Meanwhile, Elise pottered around in the gardens, pretending to herself that she didn’t feel watched, all day every day. It was as if Oliver had stuck to her like glue and followed her everywhere around the house. She wanted to talk to him, for she could feel his loneliness battering against her, constantly; however, she feared the consequences of James catching her talking to herself, so she stayed silent. 

The bruise on her face had finally faded away, although she knew that every time James looked at her the memory was still as vivid as the day it had happened. James had learned early on - in care - that life was easier if he was even-tempered and accepted the chaos of his existence with good grace. He had strived hard to be an easy-going patient man and it was one of the qualities that Elise loved most about him. But with every moment her husband spent in the house she could see the anger beginning to take hold of him again. 

The fury that had boiled inside him since they’d moved to the white house was not in his true nature and she suspected he was being influenced by something, besides Oliver. She couldn’t say anything, though, for she was frightened that the suggestion of it would instantly tap into the dark well of anger that had taken root in him. More than whatever was in the house; she feared seeing his grey eyes turn steely and the acrimonious words they would throw at one another.

      ******

Elise hadn’t realised how tense the weekend had made her until James left for work on Monday morning and her shoulders sagged with relief. Of course, she was glad he’d come back, but three days of avoiding one another and acting like polite strangers had wearied and saddened her. For a couple of days, the week before, she had felt hopeful and she’d thought that perhaps they could find a way back to what they’d once been. Now she felt like they were further away from it than they’d ever been. 

She washed up the breakfast things, aware the whole time that Oliver was lingering somewhere in the kitchen with her. She knew he wanted her to acknowledge him; to smile, say his name and perhaps play ball with him for a little while, but she had been cooped up in the house for over a week and her nerves were as frayed as an old rope. She wanted nothing more than to escape the confines of the white house and find some wide open space where she could breathe freely.

She drove out to the moors, grateful that the weather was so clement for a winter’s day. The clouds hung like big white banks of snow in the blue sky and the sun peeped above them, warming her when she sat on a blanket and began to sketch the scene before her. She lost herself for the day, intent on her task, but eventually the cold air began to bite, the light began to fade and her joints started to ache. She packed up her things, climbed in the car and headed back home.

A gnawing feeling of tension fell upon Elise the closer she got to Porth Kerensa and even the beauty of the sun hanging low over the horizon of the wild ocean didn’t assuage her sense of doom. Her hands were clammy on the steering wheel and her stomach was in knots as she drove through the pretty village to the white house that was now her home. Her anxiety didn’t lessen when she pulled into the empty driveway and she sat, for a few seconds, staring up at the house bathed in beautiful hues of red and orange, trying to remember the hope and anticipation that she’d felt the first time she’d seen it.

Now, she felt only dread.

Shaking her head to clear away the negative thoughts she grabbed her bag and climbed out of the car.  As she walked towards the house she was struck with the overwhelming feeling of being watched and her skin erupted into goose bumps. Elise glanced up at the house and caught a glimpse of movement at one of the attic windows…as if someone had jerked quickly back out of sight.