Evelyne was huddled in a corner on the marble floor, her face pressed against the tiles, pressing hard so the white, ice-cold tiles hurt her cheeks. She couldn’t cry, couldn’t speak, she just wanted to press her body so hard against the walls and floor that it would disappear. Freedom knelt beside her, reached for her hand. It was as cold as the tiles, and she withdrew it and hugged her arms around her. He reached to turn her face towards him, and felt her straining against him, trying to hide her face.
‘What is it, manushi, what is it?’
He lifted her easily from the floor and held her in his arms, carried her into the bedroom like a child. She was so close, he could feel her cold cheek against his neck, and he sat down, cradling her in his arms. Cupping her chin in his hand, he looked into her face. She was like a mute, staring helplessly at him, and he didn’t know what to do to help her. ‘What is it? Tell me, tell me?’ Freda opened the door.
‘Come, darlinks, Sir Charles is waiting, everyone has arrived.’ Her face creased with worry as she saw Evelyne; ‘My God, what is wrong? Evelyne … Evie, are you sick?’
Firmly but gently, Freedom told her to leave them alone, he would take care of Evelyne. She went straight back to Ed and whispered that something had happened, Evelyne was sick. Sir Charles beckoned her to his side. He asked her quietly where Freedom and Evelyne were, and Freda told him that Evelyne was sick, but it was all right because Freedom was taking care of her. Sir Charles’ monocle popped out as he straightened up, angry.
Striding down the corridor, Sir Charles burst into Evelyne’s suite without knocking. Ed followed, with Miss Freda close on his heels. His voice rose in anger, ‘I want you out of here this instant, you hear me? Out! Did anyone see you come in here? Did they? Answer me, man, did anyone see you enter?’
Freedom was standing by the bed on which Evelyne lay curled like a child, her face as white as the bathroom tiles. Her hands were clenched to her sides, her eyes staring, oblivious to everyone in the room. Freedom moved silendy to Sir Charles and gripped him by the shoulder, blocking his way. He hissed. ‘You treat me like I was a guilty man! I done nothing wrong — I came to bring her to you, I’ve not laid a hand on her.’
Frightened for Evelyne, Miss Freda went to her side. It was as if she were frozen. Freedom left Sir Charles rubbing his shoulder where the pain of that grip still burned, and walked softly to the bed. ‘She has grief inside her, Miss Freda, let me talk to her.’
Sir Charles gave Freda a small nod, but did not move from die room. Ed still hovered behind him. They were all slighdy in awe of Freedom’s contained strength, his power.
Freedom moved close to Evelyne, placed his hand on her head, then bent low, crouching down to look into her vacant, faraway eyes. ‘Manushi, let it go, don’t hold it inside you, it will hurt you more. Embrace it, love it, grow from it, release your pain.’
Evelyne did not move, but her mouth quivered and she formed the single word, ‘Da’.
Freedom whispered, ‘Is it your father? Then see him, hold him, kiss him goodbye.’
Sir Charles stepped closer, ‘If the girl’s father has died, really I think we should leave her alone. Come along, everyone, please.’
He waved Ed and Freda out, and then waited for Freedom. There was a fleeting moment when no one was sure how Freedom would react to being ordered from the room. The dirk eyes flashed, but then he bowed to Sir Charles’ wish and walked out.
It was not in Sir Charles’ nature to show emotion. He coughed, then spoke from where he stood, ‘Can you hear me, dear? You have a good cry, and then if you feel well enough, join us when you can.’
Evelyne neither moved nor spoke. Sir Charles sighed, ‘We leave Cardiff first thing in the morning, you are welcome to join us, I am sure I will be able to find some employment for you … Miss Jones? Ah, well, perhaps this is is not the time to discuss it … but, should you need anything, you only have to call.’
Evelyne couldn’t hear him, only the soft words of Freedom cut through her pain … She began to picture her beloved Da. He was standing on the mountain, his arms open wide, laughing his wonderful, deep, bellowing laugh. She did not hear the door close behind Sir Charles. She knew what she had to do, and she rose from the bed as if every limb was stiff. She began to pack her clothes.
Sir Charles bade everyone farewell and surveyed the debris of the party. He sighed, he was tired out. He instructed Dewhurst to leave everything for the hotel staff, they both needed a good night’s sleep before the journey.
On his way to his bedroom he passed Freedom’s door. He paused and tapped lightly, inched the door open. Freedom lay sprawled across the bed, naked apart from a sheet draped across him. His long hair splayed out across the pillow; he looked like a Greek god, his handsome face more beautiful in sleep than any man’s Sir Charles had ever seen. He swallowed, embarrassed at his intrusion on the sleeping man, and closed the door softly. His skin felt hot; he owned that creature, owned him, at least for the next five years.
The following morning Sir Charles and his chauffeur were packed and ready by seven. They departed with Freedom for the railway station, leaving Ed to arrange transport for all their luggage.
Freda was waiting in the lobby with her few possessions when Ed came down. He looked harassed, mopping his brow with a bright red handkerchief. It took four porters to carry Sir Charles’ luggage from his suite to the waiting taxi.
‘Have you seen Evelyne, Ed? Have you seen Evie?’
‘I just went into ‘er suite, she must ‘ave already left wiv Sir Charles … now, don’t get me muddled, love, I got a lot ter think about … Gawd almighty, you see ‘ow much luggage I got to take charge of? His Lordship’s offered her work on the estate so don’t you worry yerself none, Gor Blimey, thirty-four cases.’
Miss Freda sighed, relieved to hear Evelyne was coming with them. ‘He is a good man, Sir Charles, and with all of us together it will be like a family, Ed. Just like a family, won’t it?’
Ed paid no attention as he ticked each pair of suitcases off the list. Satisfied all was well, he picked up Miss Freda’s case.
‘Well, let’s be on our way, love, don’t want to miss the train.’
Sir Charles was already installed in his private first-class compartment with Freedom. Ed and Miss Freda, helped by Dewhurst, settled themselves into the third-class compartment at the far end of the train. Picnic hampers, luggage, tickets, all caused such comings and goings that no one rnissed Evelyne. Freda and Ed presumed that she was with Sir Charles and Freedom, and if Sir Charles gave it a thought at all, he believed she was in the third-class compartment.
Evelyne had caught the local steam train to the valley earlier that morning. She could not face goodbyes. She wanted the mountain, the clean air, it was as if she couldn’t breathe properly, her whole body felt constricted, tight. Hugh floated in and out of her thoughts as if she was going through her life, year by year. She could not really remember who had said, ‘Reach out and love him, hold him, release the pain’, all she knew was that she had to go on up to the mountain one last time.
As the train wound its slow way through the valley she began to relax, as if Hugh would be waiting on the platform for her. Her head was light and she felt dizzy. She had to make herself breathe deeply, knowing that if she didn’t, she would come apart. ‘Hold on,’ she whispered to herself, ‘you are almost home.’
The movement of the train rocked Freedom gently from side to side. He was sitting opposite Sir Charles, who had begun the journey in good spirits, pointing out views to Freedom but, receiving little or no response, he had fallen silent.
Freedom stared out of the window and chewed his lip. He wondered if he should ask about Evelyne. Sir Charles had been openly irritated when he had ventured to ask after her as they boarded the train. He had told Freedom she would be with the others.
‘She’s on the train then, sir?’
Sir Charles crossed his immaculately tailored legs. ‘Let us get something quite clear, shall we? Miss Jones was your only witness, your only alibi. You swore in open court that there was nothing between the two of you but the desire to see justice done. If you lied, you make a mockery of everyone concerned in your release, even the verdict. Without her testimony you would, most assuredly, have been hanged. If it was ever to be discovered that you both lied, then I would feel it my duty to hand you over to the police. I don’t want you seeing the woman.’ He stared hard at Freedom, his eyes glinting, and was met with a black, unfathomable, hooded look.
Freedom leaned forward, but Sir Charles didn’t flinch. ‘All I asked was if she was on the train, I have not had time even to say thank you. I was innocent, I never cut no man’s throat… sir.’
‘Do not worry yourself over her, I shall find her work, I think we both owe her that much.’
Freedom nodded and again stared out of the window. The matter closed, Sir Charles opened his writing-
