William tried to remember if the others had reacted this way when he had passed his test. For the life of him, all he could recall were Cropper’s calculating eyes when he had thrown down his unvoiced challenge. Afterwards they had all gone back to normal and there certainly hadn’t been anything like this.
The rest of the boys had Elijah backed onto the couch, surrounding him, touching him, congratulating him. William watched from a distance, sitting on the floor and leaning against the desk. He couldn’t bring himself to go over and join them, because, although it was a ridiculous notion, William felt as though Elijah had been taken away from him. Somehow, by surviving and coming through his test, Elijah had become communal property and no longer belonged to William alone.
Guilt, resentment and jealousy drove him from the study and he paced the bedroom floor, his mind conjuring images to accompany the sounds filtering through the thick walls. Would they turn on Elijah again? Would Brutus suddenly transform from passionate lover into that cold monster who had bullied them both that afternoon. And what about Cropper? He was as unpredictable as the spring weather, blowing from hot to cold within seconds. And that made him dangerous. Too dangerous for Elijah to survive intact.
Anger and fear for his friend chased William into Cropper’s bedroom and, as he stood in the middle of the room wondering what to do, Brutus’ words in the basement returned to him, ‘If you do not want this, you can always leave.’
Did he want this? William thought about it hard. He wanted to be top dog, that was certain, but he wasn’t sure he wanted it at the cost of his friend. If it had only been himself at risk, then he would have swallowed his pride and done what was necessary, but Elijah was different. Elijah deserved better. Elijah had the potential to become something without the strings of the wolf, ram and hart binding him.
And yet, it wasn’t so easy to walk away, William knew that, thus his only option was to rescue Elijah before his friend became more embroiled than he already was.
Without pondering the implications of what he was doing, William began systematically searching cupboards and drawers for something to aid him. There was little of interest beyond clothing and books, until beneath the detritus of books, papers and clothing, he came across a purse with several shillings in it, enough to get he and Elijah seats on the post at least as far as Derby. Once there they could go to William’s house and beg his mother for sanctuary.
To take the money would be theft. Or, to look at it another way, the wages of sin. Neither was palatable, though considering the use Cropper had had of William’s body, the latter seemed accurate at least. So he pocketed the purse and continued his search.
Pure luck – good or bad, he wasn’t entirely sure – led him to find the letter. When he was looking beneath papers in the top drawer of the bedside cabinet, a single sheet slipped loose and fell to the floor, and when he bent to retrieve it, William froze. The letter was addressed to him.
*
“Are you quite all right?” Elijah asked at last and reached out to touch William’s shoulder.
It was shrugged away and the accompanying mumble sounded like, “Fine and dandy,” which was certainly untrue because Elijah had been sitting and listening to William sob for what felt like hours. Defeated by his friend’s obstinacy, Elijah retreated to his own bed and for the umpteenth time relived the earlier part of the night.
Elijah had ended up at the centre of attention, congratulated on being so resilient by all the other boys, even, somewhat grudgingly, by Cropper. He didn’t notice William slipping away and, by the time he got back to the bedroom, William was already there, buried under the coverlet and pretending not to cry.
Elijah sighed, and tipped his head back against the wall, giving in to rational thought for the first time since his conversation with Brutus. Was it really only yesterday? It felt like a lifetime since Brutus had rescued him from the raging torrent and held him close when he collapsed.
He was busy attempting to reconcile a secret society sworn to protecting the monarchy with the brutality he had witnessed downstairs and his own trials this very evening, when William snored lightly and rolled onto his front. His hand flopped over the side of the bed and a sheet of writing paper fluttered to the floor. That alone, Elijah could have resisted, but the piece stuck to William’s face proved too much of a temptation.
Silently he slipped out of bed and crouched beside William. Manners dictated that Elijah should rescue the private papers and put them to one side, but the print on the scrap stuck to his friend’s cheek grabbed his attention. Carefully, Elijah tugged it free and, after snatching up the letter from the floor, returned to his own space and spread the papers flat across his knee.
‘Bank of England’ the smaller piece read. ‘Promise to pay to William Bartlett…the sum of twenty pounds.’ Elijah’s breath caught in his throat. It was exactly what he’d suspected but the amount was so much. Twenty pounds! More than Elijah had seen in his entire life, he was sure. Now he simply had to read the letter, for surely it must contain a clue as to the identity of William’s benefactor.
Pulling the next sheet to the fore, he settled down.
Dearest William – he read.
Can you ever forgive me for not replying to your letters? Well, you simply must as I have such wonderful news that you simply cannot help but be happy for me and thus forgive my small transgression.
William, darling, I am married!
Do you remember Captain Stead who visited your uncle last year? At the time I was struck by what a sad a figure he cut. To be widowed so early in life and to lose his only son to the same dreadful illness must be the most terrible of things. I, at least, was granted your companionship after my own dear husband was killed. But I must not become maudlin; it is not becoming for a new bride.
To return to my tale, Captain Stead returned not four months ago and, out of the blue, asked Quentin for my hand. It appeared he was looking someone to care for his three small daughters and as he has been in India for the past few years had been unable to find anyone suitable. Until now it has been of little matter to him as the girls were being raised by a native girl, however now they are older he wishes them to have a more civilised influence about the house, which I can only agree with.
A cousin of his attends your school – I wonder if you know him as well as you suggested? Roger Ballard, a sixth former – and spoke highly of you in his letters home and Captain Stead remembered making my acquaintance.
He is such a dashing young gentleman and related to some of the highest in the land, so they say. Quite what he sees in me, the widow of a bankrupt sugar merchant, I cannot know. Quentin could raise little in the way of a settlement on me, however Captain Stead seemed not to mind and insisted that, despite the years between us, he was more than content with the match. I can only think that your excellent behaviour is what has brought this miracle about.
How can I thank you, William, my own sweet boy. I have missed you so much and now I come to the sad part of my tale. And I quail at the idea of writing this to you but it must be done and done soonest. My darling, the Captain returns to his regiment in three weeks and I am to go with him. To India. For how long I do not know. I long to see you before we leave, even if it is but for a few hours, but there is so much to be done, so much to arrange, that I fear it will not be possible.
Neither will you be able to join us this year. The Captain gave up his home after his wife passed on and so will have to purchase anew once we arrive, all this alongside all his other duties. Quentin will also be away for much of the year, visiting his new acquisitions in Louisiana and so the house will be closed up. I hope you do not mind but Captain Stead has made arrangements for you to take lodgings in the village above the tavern this summer. But you are not to worry that you will be totally alone. Father Pernie will expect you to attend church each day and has invited you to eat with his family on Wednesdays and Friday, which I am sure you will find a great comfort.
Oh, and the money is not for that. Nor is it for the school (Captain Stead, God bless the generosity of the man, has agreed to pay the balance of your fees and to provide the extras I could not this year, so you will want for naught, I promise, my beloved son.) The money is to buy something for yourself, dearest one. Though I am sure that you, like myself, would give up all just for a few days together. I miss the hours we spent reading in the drawing room and the sound of your voice as you sang to me.
I am torn between excitement at my new life and sadness at leaving you this way and with so little warning. It is strange how life can take such unexpected turns and I have you to thank for everything good within it.
I shall miss you more than words can say,
Your ever loving, Mama.
The date on the letter was two weeks previous.
Conscientiously, Elijah refolded the letter and the banknote and placed them in the drawer that lay between the two beds. Then he undressed and climbed into William’s bed, tugging at his friend’s arm until William’s head lay on his chest. Only then did he allow his own silent tears fall.
*
“I don’t care what you damn well think! If he’s not here than you haven’t looked everywhere. And if you haven’t looked everywhere then you shouldn’t be here mewling like a mangy cat in want of a handout. ”
Lyall stood tall under his brother’s tirade. These days he didn’t often come in for the sharp side of his tongue, or at least not when he couldn’t mollify Brutus by dropping to his knees and sucking him ‘til the bellows became those of pleasure rather than anger. But this was serious, beyond the realms of sex to make right, and it wasn’t just Lyall who was suffering. Brolly had fled hours ago, claiming a prior appointment with a master that couldn’t wait, and hadn’t bothered to return. Forster was wedged in the corner nursing a rapidly blackening eye, received when he’d returned from the pools with no news and no William. And Elijah? Elijah was standing by the window studiously ignoring the ranting going on behind him, though the tension in his shoulders suggested it wasn’t a successful tactic.
The only person who appeared immune was Cropper, lounging on the couch with his customary brandy bowl dangling between his fingers. It was all an act, of course. Cropper must be annoyed at William’s extended absence or he wouldn’t allow Brutus to behave like a complete lout.
“Where else do you suggest we look?” Lyall asked, equally annoyed. “There’s not a trace of him in the school grounds, nor on any of the well-used tracks between here and the village, and I would know because I’ve spent the whole damned day walking them.”
Brutus swung away and his next outburst was aimed at Elijah. “Are you certain there’s nowhere you’ve missed. Cupboards, beds, wardrobes. Hell, trunks! He could have hidden in a trunk and suffocated for all we know.”
“He will be dead by now if that is what he wanted,” Elijah said quietly, “so I see little purpose in this ridiculous game of hide and go seek. Either he will return to us or he won’t.” He continued to stare out of the window, ostensibly checking the quad and the courtyard for any trace of his absentee friend. In truth he had given up hope hours ago. There was still the matter of the letter and the money, which he hadn’t mentioned to the others. There was no point; both were missing when he awoke this morning to find William gone.
If only William had bothered to talk. Yes, William’s mother had effectively abandoned him, but it wasn’t as though he were the only one that had happened to and if William deigned to speak to him, then Elijah could explain that things could be worse. At least William had the benefit of still being able to correspond with his mother, which was more than Elijah had.
Cropper shifted and yawned loudly. “Young Elijah may well be correct,” he said. “And as it is now past ten o’clock and has been dark for several hours, I believe it is time we called a halt. If he has not returned by tomorrow evening, I shall inform the headmaster.”
*
It was gone midnight before all movement ceased in the rooms above the stairs. William crept out from his hiding place behind the buckets and brooms, and unlatched the door into the yard. An entire day hiding in the belly of the beast and all it had done was confirm his worst fears. Brutus’ bellows of rage, Cropper’s cold tones, a cry of pain from someone William could only suppose was Elijah. And it was all his fault. He was the one who had dragged Elijah into this and now it was too late to get them out.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, and unacknowledged for the most part, his mother’s comforting presence had hovered over him. Even at his lowest, William had believed that he always had somewhere to run. But that was taken from him now. And by the same hands that had taken everything else. His own.
Dodging from shadow to shadow, he made his way through the school grounds and broke into a cautious run when he reached the woods, thanking his many hours of daylight wandering for being as sure footed as he was.
An hour later he reached the village and took refuge in the stable behind the tavern – the tavern where mother dearest… No! He refused to become bitter. Everything that was done, was done, and all he could do was make the best of things. The letter burnt against his thigh, but he couldn’t bear to read it again. Couldn’t bear to hear her voice in his head as the words crawled across the page. Couldn’t bear to imagine her falling into hands as cruel and cold as Cropper’s.
The post left at dawn, and he curled into his chill seat, tugging his jacket
close up about his neck. Next stop London. Mother had told him to use the money
for something he wanted. And now William finally knew what he wanted. He wanted
not to be William.