Wylding Hall

Chapter 19

Nancy O’Neill

Will forwarded me the article about the construction — Jonno had sent it to all of them. Les was the one most upset about it; she rang me up. We hadn’t talked for about a year, so after she vented for a bit, we caught up. She sounds good — happy with Will after all these years. Much better match for him than I would have been.

What do I think it all means? I believe there could be any number of explanations, but I don’t feel comfortable discussing it.

Ashton

I’ve told you what I think. Julian is dead. The girl too, probably. Murdered and buried, or their bodies dropped into the sea.

Or drug overdose, or death by exposure from sleeping rough.

Or he might be in a mental institution — he was obviously going off the rails. He might have become so out of it, he forgot who he is. That happens sometimes. So, maybe he’s in a loony bin somewhere.

But I don’t think so. I think he met some horrible fate, and it’s a blessing we don’t know about it. That’s why I don’t like talking about it. One reason, anyway.

Will

The photos I saw in the pub — the hunting of the wren — the song Julian unearthed and a half-naked girl with feathers on her feet … it all adds up, doesn’t it?

Les

Jonno floated me his idea for us all getting together there in the summer, if Billy can arrange something with the owners. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I’d love to see everyone, I’m just not sure I want to see them all there. But I’ll wait to hear what the others think. We’ll see.

Jonno

I’ve always felt that if Julian was dead, I would know it. He was such a big person in so many ways, his talent and his beauty, his belief that the world held a mystery he wanted to unlock. If he were actually dead, there would be such an absence in the world. And I don’t feel that.

There’s something else, too, something I’ve never told anyone, not even Barry. I would just as soon tell it now for anyone who wants to know. I’ll just hope the others won’t hold it against me.

Eight years ago, Barry and I were on holiday in Corfu. There was a festival going on, a saint’s day with a big procession and all kinds of celebrating and a massive crowd. Marching bands, street musicians, parades. People carrying ancient effigies and relics. Like that.

I was squeezing through the crowd on my own. Barry hates crowds, so he stayed back at the hotel. I kept my head down to make sure I didn’t step on someone or trip. Eventually, the street widened and I could look up again. It was still a huge throng, but I could breathe, at least.

And I saw Julian, I saw Julian Blake, edging through the crowd. The girl, too. I was so shocked, I couldn’t say anything, but then I shouted out his name.

He didn’t hear me. Neither of them did. It was so loud, I couldn’t hear myself. The girl didn’t look at me, and thank god for that.

But Julian did. Julian stared right at me. I started towards him, but at that moment an entire children’s orchestra came parading through the street. I tried to push my way through, but it was too late. He was gone. They both were gone.

Yet it couldn’t have been him. Because he looked exactly the same as he did the last time I saw him, over forty years ago. He hadn’t aged a day. Neither of them had.

And he didn’t know me, even when I was shouting his name over and over again. Just stared through me like I wasn’t even there. And then he was gone.

[Fin]