Page 34 of Scars of a Passionate Revenge
But the memories were hazy, almost as if he was looking at them through a piece of gauze or trying to see them at the bottom of a deep pond. And every time a scrap of a memory surfaced, he would struggle to catch it and make sense of it. It was exhilarating, but also it made his head ache at times.
They were just coming back from their excursion with the horses, a few days after that first adventure, when Alice drew her horse to a halt suddenly. Benedict glanced up at her in surprise, then drew back his own reins to slow his horse to a standstill. As always, he was astonished when the horse actually did as he asked, and he was inwardly congratulating himself on his improved confidence when Alice spoke.
“Can you hear that?” she said, in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper.
“Hear what?” Benedict said. He strained his ears but all he could hear was the usual sounds of the woodland—rustling leaves, birds singing, the sound of the distant river.
“I am not sure,” Alice said, frowning and looking around. “But I am sure that I just heard a strange sound.” She froze for a second, looking as if she was holding her breath. “There! I heard it again! It is like a sort of mewling noise!”
Benedict sat as still as he could on his horse, and then he heard it too. She was right—it was a pathetic mewing sound, and it came from somewhere above their heads.
“I think it came from that tree,” he said, pointing to a tall fir tree next to the path. “Come, let us dismount, and see what is going on.”
Soon they were both standing at the foot of the tree, peering upwards.
“There! I spotted something!” Alice said. “Up there in the branches. A flash of orange. I think it is a kitten.”
To his amazement, Alice hitched up her skirt and looked as if she was about to begin to climb the tree.
“Alice, no,” he said. “You might hurt yourself. Let me go up and see if I can catch it.”
She shook her head, then placed her foot on a low branch. “I am lighter than you, and besides, I have a way with animals. It is more likely to come to me, perhaps. If I catch it, I’ll pass it down to you.”
He watched in awe as she climbed up the tree, then found a place near to where the kitten was where she could balance and call to it. To Benedict’s amazement, the kitten went straight to her, and almost jumped into her arms. Alice wobbled a little, and for a horrifying moment he thought she was going to fall. But she managed to stay balanced and started the climb down, with the kitten perched on her shoulder.
Once she was near to the ground, she encouraged the kitten to jump across to Benedict, and he caught it. It was a tiny, scrawny ginger thing, barely bigger than Benedict’s hand, and he wondered how on earth it had got stuck up there.
Alice made her way down to the ground, her face a little flushed from the exertion of the climb.
She laughed as she brushed dead leaves from the skirts of her gown. “It is a good thing my stepmother is not here to upbraid me about the state of my dress!”
Benedict looked at her in wonder. “You were remarkable, Alice. So brave!”
She smiled shyly. “Not really! Anyone would have done the same.”
He shook his head. “I do not think so. And did you not say that you were afraid of heights?”
“I am,” she nodded. “But sometimes you have to overcome your fears to achieve something that is truly important, do you not?”
He realized that she was right. He had faced down his fear of horses, in order to spend time with her, and she had faced her fear of heights to rescue a defenseless animal.
As he looked at her, a memory came back to him like a lightning bolt. A young Alice, crouched down on the ground, struggling to free a rabbit that had got itself caught in a fence. The creature was clearly in pain and distress, thrashing around trying to escape, and she had held it firmly with one hand, while somehow managing to free its legs from the fence with the other.
“Alice, did you save a rabbit once, when we were children?” he asked.
She looked up at him with wide eyes. “You remember?”
He nodded. “I think so. It was caught in a fence, and you saved it, and off it hopped, back to its life in the wild, thanks to your attentions.”
“Yes, I remember it too. Of course!” She held his gaze. “How marvelous that you remember. Are other memories coming back to you too?”
He hesitated. He was not sure how much he should tell her. But as they rode back to the house, the tiny kitten riding on Benedict’s shoulder, he decided to tell her of some of his childhood memories. There was no harm in that, surely?
“I remember the first time we met. It was just as you said,” he told her. “You were desperate to go and see the horses, so off we went. And then every day it was the same. All you wanted to do was talk about horses, and rabbits, and birds, and whatever other creature you could see, or hear, or imagine.” He smiled at the memory. “And you are much the same now, I see!”
“It is true,” Alice said. “I can never stand by and see an animal suffer, and if I could be friends with every furry or feathered creature in this world, then I would be!”
“And I confess that I found you a little annoying at first. Even then, I think I was not particularly interested in horses. But once I had convinced you that there were other things we could do together, like running around the lake and throwing stones into the water, then I think we began to have more fun together.”
