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I couldn’t settle in the chapel. Maybe I’d seen more than enough funerals for this year already and wasn’t ready to face another. Maybe it was because I knew this was my last day here with my family, and my mind was in such turmoil that I couldn’t face sitting still throughout the entire service, as disrespectful as that might seem.
I had no quarrel with Bob, but right now, I needed to be outside, away from the stifling atmosphere of his funeral service. The moment the song of the merfolk began I knew I had to get away, and I managed to drag myself out of the chapel somehow, despite the lure of the music that was always so irresistible to hear.
‘Need some company?’
I glanced round, surprised to see Wulfram just behind me.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked.
He shrugged. ‘Same as you, probably. I’m too wound up to settle in there. No disrespect to Bob, but I’m not in the mood for a funeral.’
‘Me, too,’ I admitted. ‘I—I’m scared, Wulfram.’
He put his arm around me. ‘I suppose there’s no point in me reminding you that you don’t have to go?’
‘Not really,’ I said, managing a smile. ‘I won’t let Blaise go back in time without me. Please try to understand. Imagine if it was Keely who had to go. Would you just accept that, or would you do everything you could to be with her?’
‘Do you really have to ask?’ he said with a sigh. ‘Of course I’d be with her. It wouldn’t really matter where we were if we were together. I get it, Romy, really I do. I’m just worried about you.’
‘I know,’ I said. ‘I’m a bit worried, too. Don’t think I haven’t thought about all this because I have. The diseases and infections they have no cure for. The political landscape. The fear of witches. It’s all terrifying to me.’
‘Yet still you’re determined to go.’
‘I am.’ We walked slowly along the path, not really paying much attention to where we were heading. ‘I was thinking yesterday about children,’ I admitted. ‘I would never say this to Blaise, naturally, because he’s worried enough. But I thought, what if I get pregnant? How many women died in childbirth in those days? How many babies and children perished? It’s not a pleasant thought.’
‘No,’ he said grimly. ‘It’s not.’
‘But then,’ I said, making every effort to sound brighter, ‘we have one advantage. Blaise will be a witch, and I’m sure he can make life a little easier and more comfortable for us. How much harder would it be if we went back without magic? I don’t know how we’d manage.’
‘But you’ll have to be exceptionally careful, Romy,’ Wulfram warned me. ‘Any hint of witchcraft and—well, you know what might happen.’
‘I know, I know. We’ll be careful,’ I promised. I paused. ‘Meri’s grave, look. Bless her. I do miss her. She was such a lovely woman, wasn’t she?’
There were fresh flowers on the grave. Chrysanthemums, even though it was December. We suspected Emrick had laid them. I wondered if he visited her grave often.
We continued along the path, and I told Wulfram how Blaise had tutored me on the seventeenth century for the last few days, and how I’d produced some clothes for us to wear when we went back, using illustrations in an old book as inspiration.
‘He looks extremely dashing in seventeenth century clothes,’ I told him shyly. ‘Mind you, I feel uncomfortable in mine. No more jeans and jumpers for me. It will be a wrench.’
‘Romy, how can you do this?’ he burst out. ‘Seriously, I know you love Blaise, but this… This is something else.’
‘You just told me you’d want to be with Keely,’ I reminded him.
‘It’s true, I would. Even so, I’m not sure I could cope with that sort of life permanently. It’s all right for me. I can pop over there and then come back here, but you… You’ll be there forever. You do realise that? For the rest of your life.’
‘Of course I realise it, Wulfram,’ I said patiently. ‘I’m not stupid. It’s not going to be easy, but I have no choice. When you love someone as much as I love Blaise you’ll risk anything for them. Anything at all.’
We stopped and stared at another gravestone that had flowers on it.
‘White roses,’ I said. ‘My favourites. I wonder who put them there?’
‘I reckon Emrick pays a visit to this graveyard regularly,’ he said. ‘Look, it’s where the Tremaynes are buried.’
I peered at the faded inscription on the ancient gravestone.
Here lies Phoenix Tremayne
Died October 22nd, 1723
