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her he sighed.  I guess, my wee princess, that I shall have to prove to ye that your prince
is real.
LOVE NOT FORGOTTEN Ellen Ashe 134
Chapter Seventeen
Several boxes littered the entrance to the hall. Kate scanned each as she tiptoed
past. Most were opened displaying a variety of expensive looking equipment--video
cameras, tape recorders--as well as simple unobtrusive instruments--thermometers, a
Dictaphone, chalk. Kate stifled a smirk. The tools of a real life ghost buster. She was
happy to be spending her time with Alex in the stables, not surrounded by this, which,
despite everything she had seen, still bordered on the insane.
No noise indicated where her sister and Tim might be, although the car outside
certainly was proof of their residency. Kate listened for footsteps on the second floor, or
a murmur of voices, but all was still. She peeked through the half closed doors of the east
wing and except for a bottle of wine and a few dirty glasses there was no hint of their
presence. Continuing through the foyer she stepped out into the back garden, greeted by
a flood of chattering birds rejoicing in the passing of a sudden summer rainstorm.
Sunlight danced over the puddles on the patio left by the storm and the smell of
the damp earth wafted everywhere. Combined with a faint brush of heather in the breeze,
Kate inhaled deeply, enjoying the peace the scene had to offer.
Then a slight movement near the bottom of the garden caught her attention.
Before focusing she allowed the images of ghostly figures to dominate her imagination.
But these were no ghosts; they were lovers, and certainly real.
Mally s pointed chin was tipped up, her blue eyes wide with adoration as she
stood pressed against him. And Timothy, secure in his own devotion, was leaning to kiss
her, his arms wrapped around her waist with intimacy. As they kissed, Kate watched,
hoping not to be discovered, because witnessing this genuine act of affection meant more
than a simple act of voyeurism. This scene was most satisfying for being unexpected. She
suddenly felt that they were inadvertently mirroring what she now had with Alex.
On the outside, momentarily detached, she saw herself in Alex s arms, being
offered a future of respect, commitment and adulation. And how had she rewarded his
opened heart? With caution, denial and speculation.
Kate stepped silently back, the lovers in the garden disappearing from view.
Clasping her chest to dull the ache, she found herself questioning her so-called wisdom.
The conversation with Alex drifted through her mind. She had been so satisfied at the
time with how cleverly she guarded her every word, and relieved that he seemed to
accept what she said. But somehow she couldn t shake the feeling that a small bond
between them didn t actually break but had frayed and loosened.
What was she doing? Why couldn t affairs of the heart be simply black and white
without any varying shades between? Why couldn t she focus? Did she want him, or
not?
 Oh, Alex, she whispered to a small white stone by her foot. Picking it up she
let her thumb stroke the smooth rounded edges, and then folded her fingers, burying it in
her palm.  I love you so much it hurts.
Then she slipped the stone into the soft folds of her pocket.
LOVE NOT FORGOTTEN Ellen Ashe 135
* * * *
 Katie, Mally squealed, coming through into the living room, Tim on her heels.
 I m glad you re here. You can help us get some of this equipment sorted out.
 It s all right, love, Tim said softly. His eyes were still clouded with the rapture
of their kiss in the garden.  I ll get started and if I need some help I ll call. He smiled
warmly at Kate and bowed slightly before going back into the shadows of the foyer.
Within seconds they could hear the sounds of cardboard being ripped apart.
 You look worse than usual. Mally made her way to the kitchen.  Would you
like some advice? She pulled ham and cheese from the refrigerator.  Or would you just
like a sandwich?
 Mally. You and Tim& .
 Um. What about us? I m not about to get a lecture on age gaps, am I? Because
if I am, she waved the butter knife menacingly,  Save it. Eighteen years these days
mean nothing.
Kate did the math.  I thought he was older than forty-six, she muttered, not
really intending to be heard.
An exasperated sigh the response.  He is, in some ways, but not in most. Doesn t
matter to me, though, one way or the other.
Kate stared at her sister. It was true. She could see honest sentiment reflected in [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]