Yours Is The Only Ocean

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Eight

Miles decided he had finally lost his mind. It was gone one o'clock in the morning, and on a complete whim, he was riding Veryan all the way back from Plymouth to Port Merryn. He had stopped at an inn for the night, eschewing the ale on offer and the comely wenches who were happy to sit upon his lap and keep him company, and instead, he had taken to his bed, ready to begin the next part of his journey the following day.

But by eleven o'clock, he found himself disturbed to a state of agitation unfamiliar to him. He couldn't sleep, his mind feeling as though it was rattling around in his head. He was sure he was delirious, gripped by a feeling like something had been taken from his body and he needed it back.

Like a nun would claim to have an epiphany when God would come to them and give a calling, then Miles' calling came to him as he was standing at the window, pressing his forehead against the cold glass to try and cool down. He could feel Alex's presence in the room. So real, it felt like he would turn around and find him lying there in the bed, asleep and innocent looking; or sitting up against the pillows, giving Miles those big, enticing eyes, knowing it drove him crazy. Just thinking about it made him smile, and when he closed his eyes, he wished and wished Alex would be there when he turned around.

Of course, the bed was empty, but Miles knew he had to see Alex. He couldn't explain why, but he felt it deep within that he needed him. Tonight was Arabella's birthday party, and all manner of terrible things could have happened.

Gathering his things, he paid the innkeeper for the whole night, and he left. Poor Veryan wasn't even fully rested, but Miles hoped he could take the strain of riding back.

He had no idea what time it was by the time he reached Port Merryn, but the moon was high in the sky so he guessed it was a while before sunrise.

As soon as Veryan ascended the cliff road, he could smell it...smoke....just like the time when Ratcliffe Row had burnt down.

Out of one of the houses, a short, stout woman carrying a lantern emerged. Her face twisted with worry.

"'ave you seen my Drew?" she asked.

Miles brought Veryan to a halt. Just as from every corner and bend, people started to appear with pails of water, running off up the road.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"'e went there with Jonah! I told 'im to start no trouble, now the 'house is on fire."

"What house?"

"'igh Green! Please Mister, find my Drew."

"High Green's on fire?"

"Yeah. Please, Mister, I beg you. Bring my 'usband home."

Miles froze momentarily. High Green was on fire. His vision....Alex...he needed him. He hadn't been imagining things. Why had he come like that? Like a visitation? Was he dead? Had his ghost come to see Miles one last time?

This couldn't be so. He couldn't lose him. Not now. Not after so long of waiting for someone to make him feel he had a home. Not his beautiful boy.,..

He didn't reply to the woman, just clicked his heels and rode off at speed, causing the villagers who were going to help, to scatter so he could get past. The nearer he got, the worse the smell of smoke became and the air was scorching hot from the heat of the flames. The whole area was in chaos, with people scrambling around looking for loved ones, or trying to get to the house with their buckets of water.

Miles got Veryan to jump the fence and rode him to the hunting lodge, hoping and praying he would find Alex there, which he knew would be futile, because Alex's first instinct would be to help.