In 1933, Thomas breaks his promise to not speak to Eliot. Alan Bartholomew drowns in a pond while visiting Maria's parents. When her father runs to the house calling for help, they know something terrible has happened. Maria cannot stop screaming. May, only five, does not understand why her brother cannot wake up. Her grandmother has to explain to her what has happened and the girl is devastated. Eliot retreats to the barn, unable to fathom what has happened. He finds his father-in-law's cache of moonshine and decides he has no reason not to forcibly purge his brain from its thoughts.
In Detroit, Edith knows something has happened. She calls Charlotte, who assures her that there is nothing wrong in her household. She does not know how to get in touch with Eliot. Distressed, she sits down in front of the fireplace and sends Alan to make coffee.
"Thomas, what has happened? Why does it feel like my heart is broken and I don't know why?"
Thomas appears in the chair across from her, "I should not be the one to tell you this."
"Please."
He leans forward and reaches for her hand; she takes his- it is cold, "Edith...little Alan is dead."
All colour drains from her face, "No...no..." He bows his head and she knows it is true, "What happened?"
"He drowned in his grandfather's pond."
"Couldn't you save him?"
"No. Some things I cannot prevent. Death did not make me a guardian angel-only a watcher and an apparition."
Alan returns with coffee to find Edith with tears streaming down her face still holding Thomas' hand, "What is it?" Thomas nods and fades. Alan crouches in front of her, "Edith?"
"I was right. Little Alan drowned." They both break down, the coffee forgotten.
When Thomas returns to the farm, Alan is wrapped in a blanket resting in a maple box built for another purpose. Maria holds May and they sit, silent, sobbing, while her mother makes arrangements and her grandfather tries to convince himself that this is not his fault. Thomas seeks out Eliot.
He is fairly drunk when Thomas sits on the haybale beside him and makes himself visible, "Are you a hallucination, or actually the ghost?"
"Ghost."
"Then I'm not drunk enough."
"You'll be dead if you drink enough of that to see me when I'm not here."
"That's the point."
Thomas stops the jug as he raises it to his lips, "No."
"Why do you get to tell me no? You're dead! You never lost a child!"
Thomas bows his head, "Yes, I did. He was only a few days old, but still...a few days is enough time to fall in love."
Eliot lowers the jug, "She never told me that."
"She doesn't often talk about that part of my story. It is one small mercy that she leaves me."
"Which wife?"
"None."
"Oh?"
"Did she ever tell you of Lucille's hold on me? Her metaphorical enchantment?"
"You seem to forget how drunk I am. Cryptic isn't going to work."
"Did your mother tell you the price I paid for Lucille's protection?"
"Oh. Yes. I asked- things needed to make sense."
"The child was hers."
"Did she kill him?"
Thomas wants to be defensive of Lucille, a habit he still has not broken, but he reminds himself that it would be a natural conclusion to come to, given what Eliot knows, "No. He was...born wrong. Because...well, yes. You can guess why. But he was beautiful, none the less."
"Did you want to rip your heart out when he died?"
"Yes."
"And how did you deal with it?"
"I wasn't given the chance to."
"Oh."
"Don't follow him. For the sake of your wife. Your daughter. Your mother. Your sister. Stay. Go be with them. Scream, punch the earth that will soon embrace him. Curse the sky. Do whatever you must to survive, but do survive. If not for your own sake, then for theirs. And when you are ready, then breathe again for yourself."
Eliot stares at the jug, "You're fairly wise, for a dead man."
"Well, death puts quite a fine perspective on things."
"Oh god, I've got to tell Mum."
"She knows. She knew before she asked what was wrong."
"You told her?"
"Yes."
"How is she..."
"She is devastated. So is your father. But they are waiting for you when you need to seek refuge in their home."
"I don't know what to do."
"There really is only one thing you can do. Nothing will bring him back. We stay dead."
"And what's that?"
"Keep living."
They bring the child back to Detroit. Edith and Alan have a family plot in Elmwood Cemetery and they gather amongst the rolling hills to lay him to rest. Thomas watches from a distance. He stays unseen for all but one moment, when Eliot looks particularly lost, when he flickers into view and nods. Eliot takes a deep breath and returns his focus to the grave. Charlotte and Edith take the children back to their grandmother's house. Alan stays with Eliot. Maria's parents sit with her. After an hour of deep grieving, Eliot wipes his eyes and looks around him. The sky is blue. The sun is bright. And there are birds singing. There is a stream running through the cemetery that he can hear faintly.
He turns to Alan, "A wise man gave me some advice- he'd lost a son, too- before he knew Mum." Alan gets his hint and waits for him to continue, "There's just one thing we can do about all this."
"Yes?"
"Keep living."
Alan hugs him, "He's right."
YOU ARE READING
The English Descendants
FanfictionSir Thomas Sharpe is dead. There is far too much to think about, though, to rest peacefully. And he certainly cannot rest knowing he has a family beyond the confines of Allerdale Hall. But what do they know of him?