With that, Will's confident footsteps move off with him into some vast passageway of unknown possibilities. They carry with them the air of a man uncomfortable in his role as a makeshift father figure. To Melody, Will appears as someone who has been thrust into the role without having been prepared for it. She can sympathize with anyone whose world has been turned upside down immediately. After all, such a thing has happened to Melody herself, and it is the reason she is in Deacon House in the first place.
Waiting until Will is truly gone, Melody smiles at her new student and says: “Shall we get started? You, me, and Sarah?” Rebecca takes Melody's hand gleefully and they walk back up the staircase to the study.
Once inside, Melody notices that the air has gotten substantially colder as the door was left open.
“It's a little chilly in here, isn't it?” Melody asks.
“I can put another log on the fire, Miss Winter. It's nearly gone out. Shall I?” Rebecca asks with enthusiasm.
“I'm not sure you should be playing with fire, Rebecca. Best leave that to the grown-ups, okay?”
Rebecca looks disappointed as she sits down on a small wooden seat in front of an old oak school table.
Melody puts a couple of logs in the small fireplace beneath the mirror and then prods them with an iron poker. The flames roar up and consume the wood slowly, finally reaching a wholesome yellow glow.
“Uncle Max lets me start the fire, Miss Winter.” Rebecca says, placing Sarah on her small wooden desk.
Melody senses that Maximilian is the typical “fun uncle” who gets to be the favorite without ever doing the difficult stuff. Perhaps that is why Will so easily angered him earlier. In the study, however, Melody knows that she must exert herself as the sole authority.
“Oh, really? Well, your Uncle Max isn't here. So, when you're in a lesson with me, Rebecca, I'd appreciate you sticking to my rules. And Sarah, too.”
My word, I sound so stiff, Melody thinks to herself.
“I don't like rules, much.” Rebecca puts her elbows on her desk and rests her chin in her hands glumly.
“I tell you what,” says Melody, standing up from in front of the now roaring fire. “I'll make a deal with you.”
“What sort of a deal, Miss?”
“If you follow my rules, I'll make sure that each day we'll have some fun. We'll play a game together around the house and the estate. But it will only happen after your studies. If you're good, then you'll always have something fun to look forward to. How does that sound?”
Rebecca beams. “Oh, yes, Miss. That sounds lovely!”
“Put it there, then.” Melody shakes hands with Rebecca.
“This is going to be so much fun! Much better than with Mr Sanders, he would never play with me.”
“Mr Sanders?” Melody asks, pulling out some notes on the school work Will wants Rebecca to swot up on. In her mind, that name shocks her. As a child, whenever her father would randomly appear for a day or two at home before disappearing for weeks at a time, he had a habit of wanting to watch old movies with Melody. One of them involved a cuddly bear who occasionally went by that name.
“Yes,” Rebecca says. “Mr Sanders was my last tutor. He was very good at history, but not very good at maths.”
This cuts Melody through the heart. She feels her pulse begin to race. Good at History, bad at math, she thinks. Again, all too familiar.
“And... What happened to Mr Sanders?” Melody asks, trying not to show little Rebecca that she is perturbed by this information.
“I'm not sure, really. He was staying here at Deacon House, then one night he just left. Without so much as a goodbye. I'm still very cross with him about that. I thought we were friends.” Rebecca says with a frown. “He was fun for a while, but he got really serious before he left... No... Not serious, sad.”
The illusion of being a teacher on that vast estate is briefly broken. She thinks about her father. About the note he left. A warning for her to leave should she ever follow.
“What did your uncles say about Mr Sanders leaving?”
“They didn't seem too bothered. I don't think they liked him...much. But there aren't many people on the island who teach. Until you came.”
Melody starts to doubt herself. “Oh, so he comes from Deacon Island?”
“No, Miss,” Rebecca says. “He has an English accent. But a strange one. Every now and then it sounded more American to me. A bit like yours, Miss... Miss... Are you okay?”
“Yes...” Melody answers. “I'm fine, Rebecca. Let's start with some Math since you've already got a head start on History.”
Melody proceeds to teach Rebecca. She plasters a smile across her face as she teaches. In any other circumstance, she would have enjoyed helping Rebecca. But for the moment, all she can think about is the possibility that Mr Sanders is her own father, and those perilous words from Rebecca's innocent mouth.
One night he just left...
Chapter 2
A week has passed. Melody's time on Deacon Island is going by quickly. Each day, she sleeps in her room which looks over the town and the shore beyond. Occasionally, she wanders the streets and lanes which meander between white stone cottages. The Howling Dog remains cozy, and she is slowly getting to know the locals — Morrison the bartender most of all. For the past several days, she has been back and forth to Deacon House to teach little Rebecca. Melody loves her company,
