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‘I expect Trinity’s very hungry, too,’ Sirius said bitterly. ‘If she’s still alive, that is.’
Emrick ignored him. ‘Toast, John? Croissant? How about an egg?’
John swallowed. ‘I’m not hungry.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ Emrick said heartily.
‘You must eat, John,’ Mum said softly. ‘You don’t want to make yourself ill.’
He looked up at her. ‘I think I already am ill. I think I’m at home in our cottage in Bartonbrook in some sort of fever. None of this can be real, can it? It’s an illusion. A dream. I’m delirious, aren’t I?’
He turned back to me. ‘Tell me this isn’t real, Romy. Please.’
‘I wish I could,’ I said. ‘Unfortunately, it’s all too real. I’m so sorry, Johnnie.’
‘Who are you people?’ he asked, staring round at us all. His eyes fixed back on me. ‘Who are you? I thought you were Romy, my Romy. A counsellor. A daughter. A sister. A normal, lovely, kind, gentle person who I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I asked you to marry me! We had plans. I don’t even know you at all, do I?’
Sirius spluttered with laughter as Harley reached over and gave my hand a sympathetic squeeze.
‘Youdon’t knowher? That’s rich.’
‘Sirius!’ Emrick said sharply. ‘Enough.’
‘Enough? Are you honestly telling me you believe there isn’t a part of him that remembers? That the sly, devious, deceitful, conniving Blaise St Clair isn’t lying in wait, ready to pounce?’
‘Who is this Blaise St Clair you keep talking about?’ John cried in despair. ‘You keep telling me I’m him, but I’m not. You’ve got this all wrong. I don’t know who you people are or what you want, but you’ve got the wrong man. I’m just John Ford, a family support worker from Cumbria. Why do you keep persisting in this crazy story?’
‘John, dear,’ Mum said, sitting down next to me, ‘forget all this for now and eat something. Please. You need to keep up your strength.’
‘For what? Torture?’
Sirius gave him a humourless smile. ‘It’s an idea.’
‘No one is going to hurt you, John,’ Emrick promised.
‘Then what am I doing here?’ John demanded. ‘Wherever here is…’
‘Here is Peloryon Island,’ Harley explained. ‘It’s off the south coast of Cornwall, and it belongs to Mum.’
‘You never told me your mum owned an island,’ he said to me, an accusation in his tone.
‘Well, she didn’t,’ I said uncomfortably.
‘Until it was left to her in a witch’s will, and we learned Ewella was actually the Queen of Lyonesse,’ Sirius said smugly.
John clearly had no words for this. He closed his eyes for a moment and murmured something under his breath. I had a feeling he was praying that when he opened his eyes again we’d all have vanished, and he’d be back in our cottage in Cumbria.
‘Sirius, I really think if you can’t be kind to him you should leave the table,’ Mum said crossly. ‘I know you’re worried sick about Trinity, but there’s no reason to take out your anxieties and frustrations on John.’
‘But he’s—’
‘An innocent man,’ she said. ‘John Ford is an innocent man. Blaise St Clair was not so innocent, but he’s not here right now, whatever you’d like to believe. And unless or until he returns, I suggest you treat this man here with compassion and kindness. I thought better of you than this, I really did.’
Sirius hesitated, then snatched up a croissant and headed out of the kitchen.
‘Well,’ Mum said brightly, ‘that’s that sorted. Now, eat your breakfasts. We don’t want all this lovely food that Harley’s prepared to go to waste.’
Chapter 11
