Page 50 of Curse of the Stag's Eye
The whole time he talked, Baines never once looked away from Mr Squirrel. His face contorted further and further, the hate twisting Baines’ face.
“But he's not responsible. Not entirely. It's the stone. The Stag’s Eye. It took hold of him after you died. Those circles he drew, those eyes, on paper, in coal dust — he can't help it. The Stag's Eye took his hatred of you and used it, twisted it, and bent him to its will. It wants revenge. Revenge on those who usurped its purpose of guarding against the sea.
“The only way to break its hold is to forgive him, Baines. I know it’s a lot to ask but we know the truth now. We know whathe did. We know William Jessop wasn’t a murderer. We know you loved him, and he loved you. We’ll clear his name. We’ll tell your story, I promise you, we will. But for you all to move on, you have to forgive Mr Squirrel. You have to let him rest.”
Baines finally turned his head towards us. The anger drained from him like water from a tap. Gradually, he reached out and gingerly touched Mr Squirrel’s shoulder. Mr Squirrel hesitated, hung his head low and without a word, he nodded and slowly ascended the steps. He walked past William Jessop, climbing higher and higher, until swallowed wholly by the light.
Smiling broadly, cheeks dimpled and eyes sparkling like diamonds, Howard Baines took William Jessop’s hand and together, the two men — lovers in life and separated in death — ascended the staircase, became enveloped in the brilliant, warm glow, and were gone. The light faded to nothing.
Before we could take a breath in the intense silence that followed, a deafening thunderclap shattered the peace, loud enough to make Gaz, Dawn, and I break our circle and cover our ears. I fumbled for the matches in my pocket and lit my lantern. I held it up to make sure everyone was okay.
The mood in the cellar shifted, the air turned lighter, and the vibrating pressure had gone. Nobody said anything. What could we say? Gaz crouched down and retrieved something from the floor. The envelope, open, its seal broken, and next to it the letter, unfolded.
He read it aloud. “My dearest Howard, I know you were expecting me to arrive on theBranwenand I cannot imagine the disappointment you have felt to receive this letter instead. To begin with, let me state that you have nothing to fear. Our plan to find a quiet house in the Welsh countryside will not come to pass but, oh, my darling, I have such wonderful news. The market has recovered and I have sold my shares for more than ten times their initial value. I have been able to purchase a tractof land with a house on the coast, far away from prying eyes. Only not a house. A home. A home for us.
“I know this last year apart has been difficult and our letters have been both a vital lifeline and a poor substitute for us both. But with this letter, you will find money, enough to pay for a ticket to America. Come to me, my love, as soon as you are able. Come away from that lighthouse, from that vile, poison-tongued Mr Squirrel, from that wretched, all-seeing Eye on the hill. Come away before the curse of that place gets you. I will have a fire in the hearth, and food on the table waiting for you. All our dreams have come true, Howard. At last. Yours always, William.”
On the floor lay some dollar bills, scattered where they fell from the envelope.
“It… it was his lover,” Gaz said, his voice catching. “Baines was expecting his lover to be on the boat. He watched that boat crossing the Atlantic for months, carrying their letters back and forth. Baines watched it sink, with all hands lost. He thought Jessop had perished too. It broke his heart. It killed him.” He spoke with tears in his eyes. “William Jessop may not have ever known what happened to Baines. He might not have written again for fear of being found out.”
“Or maybe he did write again but Mr Squirrel intercepted the letters? Burned them?”
“It’s not fair.” Dawn’s eyes were damp. “Why did they have to go through all that? Why couldn’t they just be together?”
I wiped my eyes with the back of my free hand. “Because back then, people like Baines — people like me and Gaz — we didn’t get happy endings. We didn’t get happily ever afters. We had to live in secret. We had to be ‘confirmed bachelors’. We couldn’t arouse suspicion. It wasn’t safe for people like us. It wasn’t safe for Baines and Jessop.”
“On the day he died,” Gaz said, “Mr Squirrel found Baines up on the gallery.”
“Watching out for theBranwen,” Dawn said.
“Baines thought Jessop was on board. He watched it sink. He burned all his papers and letters — all the letters Jessop had written to him from America,” Gaz said. “We saw that. In the visions. We saw him burning his belongings.”
“He blamed the Stag’s Eye,” Dawn said. “He blamed it for sinking the ship, for keeping him and Jessop apart. Then he staggered to his bed.” She held her face. “Oh God, that’s when he died. The same day as the shipwreck. A heart attack. A broken heart. Poor Baines.”
Gaz carefully held the letter. “William Jessop could have lived his whole life and died on that land he’d bought in America, just… waiting. And wondering. He certainly looked older on the stairs than he did in any of those time slip thingies.”
“It was in the paper,” Dawn said. “We saw it upstairs. An article about Baines’ death. About his murder. Maybe Jessop read about it? Or maybe he didn’t read about it and he came here, to Wales, to find Baines, to find out why he never got any more letters from him. Can you imagine? Journeying all that way, thinking something awful must have happened, thinking maybe your lover was dead, and arriving to find he was and people were blaming you for it. No wonder he was never heard from again.”
“That poor man.” Gaz covered his mouth. “Those poor men.”
I put my hand on his shoulder. “They both waited a long time. But they’re together now. At last.”
Chapter 28
After we returned theloose brick and crates, we headed back up to the museum. The cold fluorescent lights felt stark and disrespectful after the cellar. Inappropriate, somehow. Rhys wiped his eyes. He couldn’t stop smiling. He checked his watch. “Just gone midnight. We cut it a bit fine.”
I pointed to the letter. “I suppose we’d better put this back."
Rhys grimaced. “I hope we won’t get into too much trouble for opening it. Even though it was for a good cause. Not that people will believe it, most likely.”
“What are we going to do now?” I asked.
Dawn blinked in the harsh glare of the fluorescent light. “I don’t know about you two but I’m starving. I wonder if Nikesh has anything in the van…”
“I meant about all this. About everything that happened here tonight. With all of us.”
Rhys’ eyebrow arched. “You have something in mind, do you?”
