One year later…

They were on their way. I hung up the phone. I’d asked Hedley to give me notice of their arrival.  It was the kind of thing Angela used to take care of, dealing with the comings and goings from the castle.

Once I’d got rid of her, I realised there wasn’t enough money to hire anyone else. Until the check from the movie company arrived, I had to do pretty much everything myself.

I walked out of the back door of the castle, passing by the scarred section of wall. It didn’t look like much unless you knew what you were looking at. The spot by the study where she’d left, turned, and thrown the statue at me.

I’d told her the truth. I knew that she’d signed my mother up for all kinds of suitable investments. I knew it was her who was gunning for the place, hoping to buy it out from under me. “Why?” I asked, genuinely interested. “After all the years you’ve given to the place, why would you do this?”

Her face went through a range of colours before she swallowed down her anger and answered me. “Because I deserve it.”

“You deserve it?”

“I gave my life to this place for a pittance.”

“You were paid more than anyone else, Angela, I saw the books.”

“You can prove nothing, you know that, don’t you?”

“I don’t need to prove anything. The house is off the market and I’m giving you notice to leave. Unfortunately the role of housekeeper has been made redundant.”

She barked out a laugh. “I suppose you’re going to run the place yourself, are you?”

I nodded. “I guess I am.”

“Then this is goodbye.”

She turned and walked out but barely made it to the hallway before she picked up the statue of Bacchus from its plinth, hurling it at me with a scream of rage.

It was heavier than she expected and badly aimed. It thudded into the wall next to the door, falling to the floor and shattering. “That’s the last bit of damage you do to the place,” I said, not moving from my seat behind the desk. “Hedley is waiting for you. Get out of my sight.”

I should have felt happy about sorting that problem but I was only filled with regret. Dealing with that problem meant rewriting history, coming to terms with the past in a way I never expected. The woman who I’d looked up to, who’d taken care of the castle and me during my childhood was not who I thought she was.

As I stepped outside into the sunshine, I thought about Tilly. That felt the same. She wasn't who I thought she was. I should have felt happy about her going. One night together. That was what I had offered and she had accepted. One perfect night.

I had thought there was more to it. I had thought something happened between us, something special.

It was clear she hadn’t felt the same way. The way she talked to me the next day, the way she left without saying goodbye, told me the truth. It wasn’t that she’d done it to get me to sign the contract, she wasn’t that cheap. It was that she had agreed to one night and that was what we’d had.

I thought about calling her. So many times over the last year, I came close to ringing her across the Atlantic but I never did.

It was always the same. I would sit with the phone in my hand, ready to dial, often late at night when I felt at my loneliest.

But what would I say? She lived five thousand miles away. We had only been together for one night. It would be ridiculous to dial her up and say, “I love you, Tilly. I realised the moment I found out you were gone. I can’t stop thinking about you. I have missed you every single hour of every single day since you left and you took a huge part of me with you when you went. I’d like it back and I’d like you back. Move to a castle that’s falling down with a man rich in property but poor in money and live in the middle of nowhere, say goodbye to your career too, not really a movie networking hotspot out here.”

Yeah, that would do it, she’d be on the next flight out.

So I didn’t call her. Instead, I kicked myself for not saying something the morning after. It was my stupid pride that had stopped me. One night I had asked for and she’d willingly given me that. I deserved no more.

I walked along the path to the walled garden, the spot she had loved so much. What would she think of it now compared to when she was here?

I had told myself I worked on it for the sake of manual labour, honest work to keep myself trim.

Manual labour was the last part of monastic life that I clung to. I had contacted the abbot, told him I wouldn’t be coming back. “Do what must be done,” he had written back to me. “I will pray for you.”

I couldn’t leave the castle. I realised that at the same moment I realised I loved Tilly. It might have been too late for me and her but it wasn’t too late for the castle. It had brought me back, something I never expected to happen. I had fallen in love with it anew as I had fallen in love with her. It wasn’t until she was gone that I realised the building and her had got into my bones. This was where I belonged and she belonged here with me. It was a crying shame that she didn’t feel the same way.

I shouldn’t have cared. I got my one night with her. She did exactly as I asked. I had been alone for years, I was used to the solitary life. But a castle that big with only me inside? Something about it wasn’t right.

When the check came, I’d be able to hire staff again, get the repairs done that were so badly needed. Until then, it was just me, picking up a spade and turning over the corner of the walled garden, preparing the soil.

I dared not hope she might come with them. I’d spoken to the producer on the phone a couple of times. I dared not ask if Tilly would come with them when they started filming. I dared not hope. I did find out I'd only get paid once filming was done. Somehow, I kept the creditors at bay but they wouldn't wait forever.

I didn’t know what would happen if I saw her again. Would it all come flooding out, all the questions I’d built up since she left? Why did you go without saying goodbye? Did you not feel what I felt? Why did you agree to one night in the first place?

I looked around me at the herbs and vegetables growing in all four corners of the walled garden. The vines cut back in the greenhouse, the panes of glass replaced. The turf was neatly mowed, the pond in the middle cleared out of weeds, light sparkling on the surface of the water. What would she think of this place?

I ate alone. The film crew were due around two. It would be the last peace I would enjoy for a week.

Afterwards, all debts would be paid. I would be at square one of a new life, able to choose where I wanted to go without the bank hanging over me like a cloud.

After I’d eaten, I washed up and then went through to the smoking room. I sat next to her chair. I hadn’t sat in her chair since she left. It wasn’t mine. It was hers.

I tried to read but my mind wandered. What if she did come with them? What would I say?

I told myself there was no reason for a location scout to come to the shoot. Her job was done. She’d got the consent to film here, her job would be secure and she’d be busy with two dozen other projects around the world.

Why did I miss her so much?

I’d never felt like this about anyone. In the short time she’d been here she’d sunk into my bones just like the castle. She had become a part of me even in absence. I didn’t do things. I did things without her. I didn’t just eat. I ate without her. I didn’t sleep. I slept without her. Her absence left a hole I tripped into every day.

I only had to close my eyes to remember how it had been, that night together, the way she’d submitted to me so readily, like we were always meant to be together.

But I had told myself it was one night. I had told her the same. I had acted casual when I saw her the next moment, something I had regretted ever since. I had wanted to tell her the truth, from the moment we first kissed, I couldn’t imagine kissing anyone else ever again. She had taken my soul into her in that moment and it belonged to her forever, even if she was five thousand miles away and we never saw each other again. I belonged to her.

I kept those feelings to myself. I was a fool. I thought I’d scare her by telling her the truth. Whatever I might have planned to say next, my plans were scuppered by her leaving without even saying goodbye.

I knew I had no right to be upset. We had our night together. She left as she was always going to. I was alone again as expected. But I was upset. I was hurt. I locked away my feelings as best I could, the only way to deal with the pain of her absence.

As time went on, things didn’t exactly become easier but my emotions became more manageable. I told myself it would get easier but instead each day that passed embedded the pain deeper into me like a splinter that constantly reminded me of its presence every time I moved. I saw the chair she sat in and I wondered if she would ever sit there again.

There was a knock on the door. They were here. I stood up, walked through the hall and pulled it open. “Hi, Robert,” Tilly said, smiling in at me. “How’ve you been?”