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‘It’s what I once believed was a mythical island between Penzance and the Scilly Isles. Legend says that unicorns grazed there, the faery folk lived there happily alongside witches, the skies and landscape were full of glorious colours that we have no names for. It was a paradise of peace and unity and harmony. Then Mordred and Arthur brought their battle there and both died on its shores. Mordred was buried on Lyonesse by his aunt, Morgan le Fae, while Arthur was taken away and laid to rest on the Isle of Avalon. Then Lyonesse sank beneath the waves. Except it didn’t. It simply returned to the Otherworld.’
He was looking at me as if I’d gone mad. ‘And you say your mother is the Queen of this place? You can’t seriously believe it ever existed?’
‘But it did,’ I said softly. ‘It still does, and part of it’s returned to our world.’
‘Rubbish!’
‘It’s true, Johnnie,’ I assured him. ‘You’re sitting here right now, and here is Lyonesse. And all those things I’ve just told you about—I’ve seen them for myself, when the veil lifted on Beltane.’
He clearly didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He shook his head slowly.
‘You told me this place was Peloryon Island,’ he said accusingly.
‘It is. Peloryon Island’s the name it has now anyway,’ I said. ‘But this small island is a part of what was once the mighty land of Lyonesse. I’m not lying to you, I swear.’
He put his head in his hands. ‘I don’t know whether you’re insane or trying to drivemeinsane,’ he said at last. ‘And this Blaise St Clair man? Is he another relative of yours? Because that’s awkward, given we’ve been living together for months.’
‘Blaise is my twelve times great uncle,’ I said, realising that sounded so ridiculous that I had no chance of making him believe it. Even so, I had to tell him the truth.
‘So by your reckoning,I’myour twelve times great uncle,’ he pointed out.
I felt quite nauseated at the thought and stared at him in dumb misery.
‘Well, this is one messed up fantasy you’re having here,’ he said bitterly. ‘What is this, Game of Thrones? Please, do continue. I can’t wait to hear what you’ve dreamed up next.’
I hated to hear that tone in his voice. He didn’t sound like John when he spoke like that. Then again, who could blame him?
‘He lived in a town called Castle Clair in North Yorkshire, and in 1669 he travelled forwards in time by three hundred and fifty years, where he lied and betrayed my cousins—especially Celeste—and almost killed her brother-in-law, while attempting to kill her now husband, Hector.’
I watched him closely as I told him the facts, but there wasn’t a flicker of recognition in his eyes. I knew he’d fooled my cousins about losing his memory before, but I would have put money on him not remembering a single detail of this.
‘A Guardian removed his memories of Blaise St Clair and gave him a new life, a new identity. They made him John Ford and placed him under the care of another Guardian.’ I paused. ‘Simon.’
‘Which makes no sense whatsoever, because I’ve known Simon since we were at school together,’ John said triumphantly.
‘False memories,’ I said, hating to burst his bubble. ‘They were planted in your mind by the Guardian to enable you to live a whole new life. And you did, Johnnie, you really did! You turned it around completely. You’ve spent so many years working to help other people, because deep down inside you’re good. I know you are. Blaise did a lot of bad things, but that’s not you. I know it isn’t.’
‘I’m not Blaise,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘If I was, there’d be something. Some memory. All the stuff you’ve just told me—it’s like you’re telling me the plot of a book or a film or something. It means nothing to me. You’ve either got the wrong man, or you’re all completely mad. Either way, I suppose you and I are finished.’
I wanted to tell him we weren’t finished, and that as far as I was concerned we never would be, but I couldn’t. The truth was, any time now the Guardians would arrive to remove all his memories of John Ford, and then I’d never see him again.
I gulped down the tears as the man I loved with all my heart got to his feet and walked away from me. Clearly, he had nothing else to say, and the truth was, neither did I.
***
I don’t know how long I sat there crying, but eventually I was aware of a low murmur of voices and then a cry of sympathy. Before I had time to wipe my tears away Harley and Keely were either side of me on the bench, their arms around me as they hugged me tightly.
‘What are you doing here?’ I asked Keely when they eventually let me go. ‘Is Lowen with you?’ I sat up straight, suddenly afraid. ‘Hector’s not here, is he? He hasn’t—'
‘It’s just me, don’t worry. I left Lowen at Castle Lodge. Oh, Romy, I’m so sorry,’ Keely said guiltily. ‘If it’s any consolation, we’ve just seen John, and he looks as heartbroken as you.’
‘Don’t give up, Romy,’ Harley said fiercely. ‘If you love each other you can make this work. Look at me and Killian! Don’t let them take him away from you.’
‘She’s right,’ Keely said. ‘We’re so sorry we brought him here. We should have thought what would happen. We should have thought about what it would do to you. But we were scared, Romy. We were terrified he’d hurt you. We’d heard so many bad things about him. We just wanted to protect you. You do believe that, don’t you?’
Even though I wished with all my heart that they’d left well alone, I did believe that they’d acted out of love for me. I could hardly hate them for that.
‘I know,’ I managed. ‘But to me he’s just Johnnie, and this is breaking my heart.’
