Chapter fifty-one

Fanemouth

 

‘We thought we’d lost you’ laughed Tom as she entered the pub.  Kathleen smiled wanly; she was desperate for a pie and a pint.

Tom waved her over to the armchair by the fire. A few seconds later, by some miracle known only to publicans, he had brought her a steaming steak pie and a pint of Tipsy Lord Ale, a local brew.  The pie came with roast potatoes and leeks.

‘You don’t look very well, Katy’ he said, as he served her ‘you need someone to look after you…’

Kathleen was starving and had been disorientated by seventy two hours of continuous struggle in her workshop.  She was finding it hard to focus on anything else. She had wanted to find a way to control the unpredictable nature of the blue liquid and therefore counter the creatures from the Outer Void – she was thinking specifically about the rays that John had encountered that seemed to have been brought into being as a hybrid between their world and the Outer Void. These apparently had had membranes of normal matter which had protected the blue inner substance. Perhaps she could disrupt the structure without piercing the membrane – effectively sucking them dry from the inside, like a spider eating a wrapped up fly. She needed a spell that appeared at a distance, but could cope with the strange structure of…

‘Katy?’ said Tom, who was still holding her food and waiting for her to take it ‘are you alright?’

Kathleen shook herself back into the real world. She smiled and accepted the pie gratefully.

‘Oh thank you, Tom’ she said, ‘I really appreciate it’

Tom pulled up a straight backed chair and sat next to her. He nodded up at the barmaid who was helping him that evening and she smiled and giggled; she knew exactly what he thought of the strange woman who lived in the house next door.  She also knew that she’d have to do all the serving for a while.

‘What have you been doing?’ he scolded gently, ‘have you been eating properly’

She’d eaten about six cheese sandwiches during the time she’d been working – that was two a day and it seemed quite reasonable to her.

‘Yes, of course’ she said, ‘why do you worry about me so?’

‘Why do you think, you daft apath…’ he whispered, but not so softly that she wouldn’t hear, ‘how am I meant to feel when you just disappear for days on end?’

Kathleen’s head was spinning and she really didn’t want to start this discussion again. It always made her feel guilty even though she knew it shouldn’t. She couldn’t help it if he cared about her and wanted to look after her. That was all his fault.

‘Sorry – I’ve been really busy’ she said blandly.

Tom’s eye flashed with irritation. Kathleen thought that it made him look rather fierce, which was really quite attractive, but nonetheless she wished he would let her eat.

‘Doing what?’ he asked. He was usually very patient about the unexplained absences and long periods that she spent locked up in her cottage.  But the lack of answers was beginning to wear him down a bit.

‘Working’ she said. She picked up her beer and drank down half of it in one go. She was a very slight woman so this was, proportionally, rather a feat.  Tom was impressed, but then he was about the most biased person in the world.

‘What is it that you work at?’ he asked

‘I can’t say’

They had occasionally had this conversation before, but in the past he had been less intent on finding out the truth.

‘What could it be that means you can’t say…?’

‘Tom, I really can’t say’

‘How can I help you if you won’t tell me?’

A mixture of irritation and affection struggled in Kathleen’s breast. She’d never asked for this attention – she’d lived for the last twenty five years, almost all of her adult life, without needing to be looked after. But she had seen herself in a mirror that morning and she had looked pale to the point of greyness and her arms were so thin.  Why not let this big kind man look after her?  

‘Maybe I don’t need all that much help?’ she said feebly

Tom ignored this, warming his hands in front of the fire.

‘You are an intriguing woman, Miss Mannings’ he said

Kathleen was so tired that she for once was unable to control her academic reflexes

‘Dr Mannings…’ she said absentmindedly

Tom looked startled

‘You’re a doctor, Katy? Why didn’t you tell me this before?’

Kathleen blushed with total embarrassment, for a moment her face looked radiantly healthy.

‘Oh dear, why did I say that – it’s nothing – I’m not a proper doctor, it’s a university higher degree… a silly thing’

Tom frowned at her.

‘Sometimes I think that you are purposefully trying to increase your aura of mystery, Dr Katy’

Kathleen gripped his hand. She knew this was impossible – she didn’t want him to get any closer or to back away.  Mostly, though, and even after the pie, she was still very hungry, and exceptionally thirsty.

‘I’m not trying to change the subject…’ she said

Tom rolled his eyes at this and smiled.

‘But I really need some apple crumble and another pint of beer’

Tom’s smile turned to a mock frown and he squeezed her hand.

‘Not until you tell me what you’re a doctor of…’

Kathleen knew that she either had to start telling the truth or break off their relationship. It was just hard to see how she could do either. Fortunately the effects of the beer were beginning to take the edge off everything.

‘It’s a rather special kind of chemist’ she said, running her hand through his hair.

She thought that he had really nice thick hair and a lovely smile. Then she remembered the times when she had stayed in the pub with him until closing time, waiting for him to shoo the locals away, and then he had carried her up, laughing, to his big iron-frame bed.  It never happened enough – but she knew that was all her fault. 

Tom dropped her hand and pulled away. He still didn’t really seem all that annoyed, but he never did. He had infinite reserves of patience and she had infinite powers of concentration - perhaps they made a good team after all.

‘I’ll get you your pud’ he said. He stopped to look at her for a second.

‘Chemist’ he said thoughtfully, ‘who’d have thought it…’

‘I don’t make poisons or anything’ she said hastily, but he was already on another train of thought.

‘Well, that will be something to tell all those people who spread rumours about you…’

Kathleen’s stomach turned.  She could guess just what was coming next.

‘What rumours?’ she asked.

‘They say you’re a witch’