Page 46 of Forgive Not Forget
They lay in silence, Anna tucked into Katherine like a hot water bottle. Cuddling Anna always restored her equilibrium; she couldn’t bear to think of a future without her. Which brought up a question she’d been trying to shove to the back of her mind.
“Are you sure you’re okay about not having children? You don’t feel you’ll be missing out on a big part of life?”
“How will I be missing out on anything if I have you?” Anna replied immediately, squeezing the breath from her with her arms.
There wasn’t a response that Katherine could find to that. It was all she could have hoped for — if it were true. Only time would prove that; for now, all she could do was trust it was.
Katherine waited until Anna fell asleep before extracting her book and torch. It wasn’t long before she was putting the book down, though. Despite her best efforts at staying awake, her eyes were heavy.
Theke-wikof a tawny owl sounded nearby.
There was nothing better than the sound of an owl. It took her straight back to the old house in the city that she’d shared with Helena. It faced a small park with mature trees which several owls frequented. She and Helena would fall asleep to the sound of them hooting to each other outside their bedroom window. For a moment she allowed herself to imagine she was lying back in their bed, the warmth of the body beside hers Helena’s, not Anna’s.
She had often held hands with Helena as they walked through the park, dreaming of a day when they would be able to push their son or daughter around it in a pram, watch them kick the fallen autumn leaves as they grew. One day they would watch their grandchildren play as their child had, as they grew old and grey together. They’d called the house their forever house, the first and last house they would buy together. It was a little corner of the world to call their own, until one day it wasn’t. Helena was never to return, and Katherine was left alone with the memories of what would never be.
She choked out a silent cry, a cry of guilt that she’d been harbouring for Helena all these years, a cry of guilt that momentarily she wanted the warmth of the body beside her to be someone else’s, not Anna’s, someone long lost to her. Her throat tightened and ached as she restrained the sob.
She had been lost once, then found by Anna, but now she was realising that that lost feeling had never left her. She was still wandering, floundering. She could hear a voice calling for her in the distance, telling her everything was okay. She couldn’t make out if it was Anna’s or Helena’s.
She opened her eyes; a figure was leaning over her. Damp from sweat, she shivered.
In the darkness, she felt the softness of a hand against her face and then the sweetness of Anna’s voice.
“Hey, are you okay? You were having a bad dream.”
“What time is it?” Katherine asked, her mouth dry.
Anna looked at her phone. “Two thirty.”
She had fallen asleep. Her senses were dulled in the darkness, but as she regained consciousness, she realised she could hear something right outside the tent.
“Are you all right?” Anna asked again.
“Can you hear that?” Katherine replied, not wanting to answer the question. Not able to answer it.
Anna listened for a minute, then nodded. “There’s something outside,” she whispered. “I’ll take a look.”
“Don’t! It might be dangerous.” Katherine gripped her wrist to prevent her from leaving.
Anna caressed Katherine’s hand before easing it off her. “I’ll be fine.”
Katherine sat back and watched as Anna slowly unzipped the tent. Visions of axe-wielding lunatics roaming the abbey irrationally entered her head.
There was a moment’s silence, and then Anna gasped.
“Oh, it’s you! What are you doing here?”
Katherine’s heart raced. Was it friend or foe? And what was anyone doing on the site at this time of night if they were up to no good? Her questions were immediately answered when Anna sat back, and Virginia waltzed in.
“Oh, Virginia!” Katherine turned on her torch and pointed it at the cat, only to realise she had a mouse hanging from her mouth. “She’s brought us a bloody present,” Katherine whispered.
Anna squealed. “A mouse! Let’s get out of here.”
“No. She may drop it if we make any sudden movements. Can you try and shoo her out?”
They both made hissing noises and flicked their hands in her direction. It had the undesired effect of scaring Virginia from the tent, leaving her wriggling present behind.
Katherine spotted the mouse as it dived into the duvet.
