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*****
The next morning the weather was dark and gloomy, a storm was building outside, a storm was building inside of me as well. I was wrathful when I should have been beyond excited and in love. I was struggling with heartbreak and trying to keep it together in front of Edgar. They say the easiest way to get over pain was to fall in love again … whoever said it was right. Thank God Edgar was in my life and made me feel wanted or I’d be at rock bottom, even though Edgar was the catalyst for all my self-inflicted dramas. The highs and lows of my life these last six months had been like a rollercoaster.
I stood at the large windows looking at the bleak day and Edgar came up behind me and held me.
‘You’d better drive,’ he said.
‘No, I’m dying for a walk. I’ll be fine, I know the moors like the back of my hand and I’ve been caught in storms out there hundreds of times.’
I turned in his arms to face him and smiled.
‘What?’ he asked, his eyes narrowing with suspicion.
‘Thank you for last night, it was wonderful.’
‘I aim to please,’ he said.
‘Oh that you do, young master, or maybe that should be theMasternow,’ I teased him, and he grinned. I pulled away. ‘I’m going in case it gets worse out there. I’ll message you when I’ve started walking to the village, but work on meeting me about midday, okay?’
‘Perfect,’ he said.
I stood on tiptoes to give him a kiss which went on for too long and we were dangerously close to returning to bed when I used my extraordinary powers of self-control to pull away … it helped that his phone rang.
I ran my hand down his front, feeling his hardness and he groaned.
‘Enjoy that call,’ I said, and following in Isabella’s steps, gave him a flick of my auburn hair, a backward glance and an attempt at a sexy look. What the heck?
‘I’ll add that to your punishment list,’ he called, adjusting himself and looking uncomfortable.
In the hallway, I put on my runners, grabbed my waterproof jacket and backpack, and ventured out onto my moors.
*****
Oh God, it was so good to be back in nature, to have nothing around me but green space and empty moors, the wind moaning in my ears – I’ve missed it. It would take me just short of an hour to walk to Wuthering Heights and I needed that hour of roaming. The walk to the village later would be longer, but that was fine too. Great actually.
The sky was darkening, and the wind was whipping my hair across my face. I stopped to tie it back. I didn’t bother with a hat; it wasn’t sunny and I wanted to feel the fresh air on my face. I didn’t realise how unfit I had got during the months in the city; walking wasn’t easy on the moors. You had to watch where you placed your feet – there were rocks and soft mounds, and little brooks and waterfalls. I was home.
I don’t know where that hour went, I was so lost in thought, lost in my head, that it sped by and then the large dark façade of Wuthering Heights came into sight. It looked even darker and wilder having just left Thrushcross Grange. Of the townhomes I could see, I noted that some of my neighbours were home. Mrs Johnson’s garden continued to thrive despite the wind, I guess she was on the right side of the building. Lockwood’s car wasn’t in his parking bay, I knew he was visiting Nelly in London and … nope, Heath’s car wasn’t in the garage, nor was his fiancée’s BMW either. The garage was empty. Good.
I headed up the stairs to my home. I wish we still owned the whole estate, but I knew it would be impossible to maintain. And it would be impossible to leave. I unlocked and opened the front door and the memories rushed out at me and escaped down the hallway. I took a deep breath and entered. It was so weird being here alone and having it all look so normal. It should have been different somehow.
I went to my room; it looked like the room of a girl I once knew. I stood in the doorway studying it. Then I made my way down the hallway and saw Heath’s bedroom door was closed. I walked along further and glanced in at the main bedroom that we once shared – it was pristine as if it was waiting for its inhabitants to return.
I stared at the bed knowing that Heath and Isabella would have slept in that bed last night, where we used to be. God, it all seemed so wrong.
I went back up the hallway and slowly opened Heath’s bedroom door. I almost expected to see him lying on the bed, his headphones on, like when we were teenagers, but the room was empty. Clean and empty. Then a high wind blustered around the house, and rattled Heath’s windows, scaring the hell out of me. It was the motivation I needed; I closed his bedroom door again and moved into action. I grabbed a few things that I wanted from my room, packed them in my backpack, and standing at the door ready to leave I tried to picture everyone I loved as they once were – Mum, Dad, Hindley and Heath. How we were when we lived here as a family.
Closing the door behind me, I departed. I didn’t know when I would next be home, but I knew it would not be with Heath. Everyone I was ever connected with and loved at Wuthering Heights had gone.
Chapter 24 – Wild encounter
It was only mid-morning but outside it was dark and the wind was blustery, yet it wasn’t cold. I was grateful that I was meeting Edgar in the village at noon – it would be a much-needed distraction. I should start thinking of my time with him as a wonderful new start. The walk to the village would take me over an hour, so I had plenty of time. I stopped at the gated entrance to the Wuthering Heights estate and looked back, I blew it a kiss – corny but she was my love, my rock, my base. I wasn’t sure when I would be back. And then I turned and continued my walk along the moors to the village.
I rarely ran into anyone walking, except very early in the morning or at the end of the day when you get the occasional walker with their dog. In this weather, I could be assured of having the moors to myself. My favourite place was ahead – a little brook where the water was always icy cold and fresh, and you could sit beside it and listen to its gentle song. Today, the brook was full to the brim and rushing by, and despite the gloomy skies, the birds were in fine voice.
I opened my eyes and sat down to trail my hand in the cold water, tasting it on my fingers; delicious and fresh. I glanced at my watch and then to the skies and could hear my father telling me not to ramble out on the moors all day. I had a place to be so I rose and skipped across the brook to the dry side and continued up a small rise.
At the top, I saw him.
