Chapter Twelve
The
Cottage
Heath disappeared most evenings at school.
Kate knew he went hunting. He’d be back for band rehearsals, he had promised
her. He’d been counselled by his doctor. Kate was sure he practised being
‘safe’, which meant only drinking wild animals and never more than he needed to
survive. Magenta, drunk in the interim, ensured he was not tempted by humans;
nor would he be, unless his vampiricism developed fully. This was a roll of the
dice, according to his specialist. They wouldn’t know if he was a full bloodsucker
until he reached eighteen. In the meantime, his diet subsisted only of protein,
citrus, Magenta and plasma delivered via special order from London once a week.
Blood oranges were still his favourites.
Tomorrow night, the inter-school Battle of
the Bands competition was to be held as part of the Sixth Form dance. Kate and a few others, including Annabelle
Hunt, were factored into the front row as audience members or “fake fans”, as
Kate joked. Annabelle had made such an effort to be friends with Kate that the
girls were now talking and Annabelle had hesitantly been accepted into Kate’s circle
of popular girls.
Those girls were sitting in the front row.
The band hoped they wouldn’t be sitting there long. Tonight, they wanted
everyone in the room up dancing. Heath
would be lying if he said he didn’t like the fact that a lot of girls paid him
attention. He was tall with dark hair and had a “mysterious” look about him.
He’d heard Annabelle giggling and whispering about him to his friends once. He
still disliked the Hunts but he enjoyed female attention in all its forms and
it didn’t pay to display open warfare towards Annabelle’s older brother,
Edmund. He’d tried that in his first
year at boarding school and all his privileges had been withdrawn. He hadn’t
seen Kate in over a week.
There was only one girl whose opinion
truly mattered to him and she sat front row centre as the band played her
favourite cover. Afterwards, everyone rushed off to supper but Heath and Kate
had plans.
As Heath packed away his guitar, the
drummer, who fancied Kate, smiled at her.
‘Did you like your song, Kate? We played
it especially for you…’
Heath rolled his eyes, jealously.
‘I more than enjoyed it,’ Kate replied
but she was looking straight at Heath when she spoke.
Heath had a good singing voice. He and his
band were the coolest – some said most dangerous boys at school – by far.
Although Kate was proud of Heath’s ability to assimilate, it had begun to annoy
her to see other girls paying Heath so much attention and the last thing she
wanted to do was let him know how great he was. That would create too much of
an ego problem.
‘I mean, it was better than okay,’ she
covered.
‘That was your song,’ Heath said.
Kate couldn’t help but smile. Heath knew
what she liked so well.
Heath pretended not to care and smiled
at Annabelle Hunt as she gathered her things, much to Kate’s annoyance. Heath made sure Kate noticed how much
Annabelle Hunt flirted with him. When he became bored with Annabelle’s
conversation mid-sentence, Heath turned from her and walked over to demand
Kate’s undivided attention. Kate paused
and glanced into Heath’s eyes. It was obvious to strangers they had a
connection that went beyond words.
When they were alone, Kate tugged at
Heath’s shirt and gave him the lamb sandwich she’d made in the kitchen
especially for him. They were having a roast today at the girl’s school and
Kate knew it was Heath’s favourite. He thanked her, pulled off the lamb, wolfed
it down then left the bread. Heath was always starving these days. It was as if
none of the food he ate satisfied him.
‘C’mon, I also bought us tea…’ Kate had
her flask and some more lamb and chicken wrapped in a satchel. Heath grimaced,
but realised weak tea kept him hydrated. Kate was always trying to look after
him, even though they’d be seeing each other less now that they were both
studying for half-term finals.
‘You really did rock, Heath,’ she
whispered, looking up at him when she said it.
He tried not to beam so hard. He
grew happy and less prideful under her gaze but he held back from saying what
he wanted to say. Heath wanted to tell Kate Spencer how much he loved her but
he couldn’t. If he told her, he felt sure that she would torture him, use it
against him and tease him more than she usually did. It was in her nature to be
both a chameleon and contrite. He wouldn’t say the words until he was sure she
felt the same.
They agreed to meet at the cottage to study
for their exams. They enjoyed meeting up, just to read and talk like they used
to when they lived in London.
The cottage was a secret meeting place that
had been used for decades by the students from both schools. Built into a stone
wall that marked the outside gate of the shared sporting grounds, it could only
be reached by running (or walking very quickly) far out of sight across the
never ending playing fields and through a kind of dugout that led to an even
more lush pasture.
The dwelling had been uninhabited for at
least a decade. The hut had been built in the curve. High on the hill, it lay
abandoned when no one had bothered to demolish it. Most of the students knew of
its existence and it was the “go to” place for midnight feasts… and lover’s
meetings.
By the time Kate arrived, windswept and
dishevelled, Heath had caught her up.
The interior of the cottage had recently
been renovated by teenagers. There was evidence of junk food and discarded
games, posters tagged on walls, various blankets and duvets rolled into a
cupboard, and a well-used fireplace. It was the perfect spot for a winter picnic.
‘Reminds me a little bit of Hampstead,’ Kate
said, looking out the window.
‘Scotland reminds me of nothing in the South.
It’s…lonelier…wilder,’ he said, rubbing his mouth when Kate couldn’t see. He
suddenly needed his incisors filed but he wasn’t going to admit it. Only Heath
could feel the sharp tips of the teeth inside his mouth, reminding him of his
true nature. Kate placed the food on
the red checked table cloth over the low coffee table as Heath lit the fire.
The boy hungrily demolished the roast chicken from Kate’s satchel as the girl
looked on in amusement. She spread out the board game on the floor. The pair of
them began playing Scrabble in their usual competitive way until Kate, bored
with the game, messed up her side with the pieces tumbling across the floor
amidst a cloud of laughter.
‘This is such a boring game,’ she said.
‘I’ve never understood why I can’t make up words… ’
She leaned over towards him. Heath felt
unexpectedly nervous, but tried to act cool.
‘What sort of words?’
‘Oh, you know. Words they don’t teach us at
school…’ Kate smiled wickedly then changed the subject.
‘I am so bored with classes but I can’t
wait to see your band perform tomorrow night. I miss Hampstead. I miss the
glass house where we used to go… to hunt for food…and flowers…’
Kate loved flowers. She’d even given Heath
some edible ones once, when he was little, which he’d duly tried to eat. Kate
rolled onto her back and stared up at the low beamed roof. Heath looked
bashful. The fire flickered, creating artistic shadows of the pair on the
inside of the cottage.
‘I think we should play a different
game…’ Kate said.
Heath looked at Kate incredulously, as he
turned the page of his History text. He hadn’t expected this.
Kate reached over and stroked his hair. He
could still feel the touch of her fingers, moments later. Overwhelmed, he took
her hand in his and used all of his willpower to stop himself pulling her to
him and fanging her. He didn’t want to mess things up with Kate before they
were ready. Heath ached for her loveliness; she was part of him more than
anything or anyone ever could be or would be. When he thought of his biological
family, he was dismissive of them. He didn’t remember their faces. Besides,
they had abandoned him when they discovered he was a bloodsucking freak; just
as his friends would probably turn on him, if they knew the truth.
He dropped his pen and changed the subject.
‘What…what are your plans for next year?’
Kate laughed… ‘Okay, we’ll play your way.
Let’s see, if I wasn’t going to be a famous painter, do you know what I’d be?’
‘I don’t,’ Heath replied as she plaited her
hair into a braid.
‘Well, I love my horse so…I’d be a vet…and
save the animals…’
‘You’d have to study hard for that,’ Heath
said sarcastically, glancing back at the words on his page.
‘What, don’t you think I’m capable?’
Heath knew Kate could do anything she set
her mind to, starting with gaining access to the school kitchen when he
couldn’t, but it wouldn’t pay to compliment her right now. She was far more
confident than he was.
‘It’s not that,’ he hedged. ‘I’m just not
sure if you have the dedication,’ he replied, turning his head so she couldn’t
see his smile.
‘Oh, you…’
He reached over and caught her hand.
Kate looked up at Heath with a devotion she quickly hid with words.
‘Let me get closer to the fire. It’s freezing
in here…’ Kate said.
Heath moved closer to her, closer to the
flames which were weak, but turned and crackled forming a strong light.
Heath made the first move. He put his hand
on Kate’s hair and she held his gaze.
‘Run away with me Kate.’
Kate laughed.
‘When? Where to?’
‘When we’ve finished school, after we turn
eighteen. We could go to Prague or Paris or Spain.’
‘What with?’
‘We’ll get jobs…’
‘I can’t just abandon everything…my family…’
‘Apart from your father…they’ve abandoned
us…
Kate considered this for a moment.
‘I know. Harrison is…not to be trusted and
mother lets him sign everything. He controls all her assets after she and
father separated. She even signed half of the house into his name. Mother never
did like responsibility.’ Kate reached out to Heath and he leant over and
kissed her wrist, softly, again.
Kate opened her eyes wide, suddenly seeing
the future.
‘Yes, let’s do it. Let’s go to Spain. I’ll
study art and design, though I once thought Paris might be the place for that.
Never mind, I’m sure they have good design schools in Spain and you can…start a
band… only we’ve no money, not a cent. It’s just a fantasy, Heath. Ten minutes
in another country without a roof over our heads and we’d be fighting all the
time. And…’
‘What?’ He wanted her to say it but she
wouldn’t.
‘…and liking each other less…’
‘I could never like you less, Kate. There
is no such possibility.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I love you.’
Kate liked it when he spoke like this, but
it worried her. ‘I know,’ was all she said.
What she should have said, and what she
later regretted not saying was that she also loved him. It was obvious. Her
journals were testament to this. Each one covering a year in their lives
together, written in schoolgirl writing, with train tickets and photographs
taken on her polaroid when Heath was least expecting it, pasted into the pages.
She kept the most recent one hidden under her bed. Her favourite photograph was one she took of
Heath in his navy blue school blazer standing on the playing fields with a
bemused look on his face, just as he realised she was the culprit – the school
photo journalist.
Kate glanced longingly at Heath after he’d
kissed her again. She looked into his perfect eyes and felt the hard cut of his
arm muscles. This boy, soon to be a man, was everything to her. He was her
whole life, the male version of herself. She knew to be wary, though - family
neglect had taught her this; not to let him know her entire being was his to do
with as he pleased. Kate sat up and glanced down at her shoe, resolving to
change the subject.
Heath loved that about her - the two
versions. In this version, Kate had fresh colour rising in her cheeks. He
wanted to be closer to her, to touch the vein in her wrist, her neck, to kiss her
lips, but he didn’t dare move.
‘I think you should take your studies more
seriously, never mind about me. I could never love a man, who didn’t know at
least as much as me,’ she joked as she packed up the chess pieces.
‘Well, then, there are a great many men for
you to love,’ Heath replied with a raised eyebrow.
‘Oh, you…’ Kate threw one of the Scrabble
pieces his way.
Heath laughed in return, loving that he
could get to her so easily.
He had applied to various universities but
he wasn’t sure what he wanted. Beyond Kate’s love, nothing. He’d gone through
the motions, telling no one before now that he’d considered applying to
Oxford. He’d organised teachers he knew
would give him good references and because his marks were flawless, he had a reasonable
chance of being accepted. He just had to pass the interviews. He’d studied
every evening when he wasn’t with Kate, and when he was, he studied late into
the night. He wanted to achieve more than anyone he knew. More than anything,
he wanted Kate to be proud of him.
They read some more and fell asleep beside
the fire. When they woke the next morning, fully clothed, wrapped together
under a pile of blankets, it was morning.
‘C’mon,’ Kate said, dusting off bread crumbs
from her skirt, ‘we don’t want to miss chapel or they will notice and maybe
stop me going to the gig tonight. Someone could report us…’
Heath rolled his eyes. ‘You mean
Hunt…’
‘Really, he’s not that bad. I think he
wants to be your friend. Actually I think Annabelle is quite keen on you. You
better be careful, Heath. Those secretive, silent girls are the worst with
their little schoolgirl crushes…’
‘Is that what you have on me?’
‘Silly, I’m not the silent, secretive
type…’ Kate said.
It wasn’t the answer Heath wanted to hear.
‘Well, you never had to be…’
Heath turned with the coat and handed Kate
her scarf.
‘How can you joke like that Kate?’
‘What? I’m just kidding.’
‘How could you think there is anyone for me
apart from you?’
‘I…I think you like me…too much. It will
distract you from getting good marks in your finals.’
‘Am I hearing things? Listen to yourself
Kate. I don’t “like” you too much. There is no “like” here.
Kate looked away, aware of the depth of her
feelings for the handsome boy that stood opposite her. Over the past year, he’d
grown a head taller than her. She had to look up in the morning half-light to
meet his eyes. Again, she looked away.
‘Look at me Kate.’
‘I know most girls think you’re hot…’
‘Oh, so you’re saying you don’t?’
‘Those girls don’t know you, like I know
you…’ Kate said slowly. Before Kate was
forced to answer, the door blew open as one of the younger students arrived,
out of breath. ‘Come quick,’ he said, ‘… they’re taking the register. They know
someone broke into the kitchen last night and stole some chickens and the
headmaster is going ballistic…’
Kate giggled while Heath grabbed their
coats as they prepared to run. It would be wiser to attend roll call, or else
it would be completely obvious they’d been out all night; and then Mr Spencer would
be informed, or worse.
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