The White House - Book 6, The Porth Kerensa Series

Chapter Sixteen

James stood on the decking, smoking a cigarette and staring at the ferocious waves rolling across the ocean, whipped into a fury by the bitter winter wind. The roar of their demise against the rocky cliffs filled his ears, echoing his own anger. He remembered the look of fear on Elise’s face when he’d arrived home after the break in and how hemmed in and obligated he had felt at her need for him.

He had held her and reassured her, but she had been pale and quiet all evening, even after the destruction had been cleared away. When she had asked him, politely, if she could sleep in his room with him he had known that it was still playing on her mind and he had been unable to say no. She had made no advance to his side of the bed and eventually he had pulled her into his embrace, but the torment had continued in her dreams and she had been restless all night; tossing, turning and murmuring in her sleep.

Out of sight was not out of mind.

He threw his cigarette away and went in, stopping at the back door briefly to check the lock. He pottered around the kitchen, preparing breakfast and listening to the familiar sound of Elise in the bathroom upstairs and he imagined her in the shower, naked and glistening. It reminded him of the days before they decided they wanted to start a family; when things were easy between them and he’d have thought nothing of joining her in the shower and making love to her against the tiles.

He was pouring coffee when Elise entered the kitchen. She smiled, but her green eyes flicked around the room and James didn’t miss the panic that flared in them. 

“I’m going to phone the estate agent,” he said, handing her a mug. “I’ll ask them to send us over some details of houses in the area.”

She bit her lip, wondering if they would be looking for separate houses, but she didn’t have the courage to ask him. She jumped when something tugged hard at her sweater and a cold breeze swirled around her hand. She glanced at James; however, he’d turned away to butter the toast and didn’t notice anything.

“I like it here,” she said, glancing down at the place she thought Oliver was standing. “I don’t want to move yet.”

He turned to look at her, surprised. “I didn’t mean out of the area, but I thought after yesterday you’d want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

She shrugged, casually. “It was my fault, James. I must have gone out and left the door unlocked. Listen, I don’t intend to let it get to me. I’ve let too many things get to me over the years and I have to stop doing that. I’m going to go out and get a bolt for the back door and the gate, and I’ll be much more careful in the future.”

James sighed, relieved, and smiled. “You’re the boss, El.” 

He resumed preparing their toast and Elise smiled as warmth flooded back into her hand. She had disliked the idea of leaving Oliver as much as he appeared to. She wondered what she would say when the six months was up. Hopefully by then she’d have found a way to help the lonely little boy trapped in the white house, but her heart was heavy at the realisation she would simply have to find a way to deal with the malevolent presence too.

      ******

The clouds hung low and heavy in the sky as Elise walked down to the village, wrapped up warmly against the freezing wind that buffeted her. She wondered if Oliver had stood at the attic window and watched her walk away from the house and she hoped he’d heard her whisper she’d be back soon, before she’d left. When the coldness had wrapped itself around her hand she’d known instantly that he was clinging to it and her heart had ached for him.

How lonely he must have been.

For the first time she wondered if Noah was caught in an earthly Limbo? Was he trapped forever in a ghostly exile? The thought made her blood run cold and she shuddered and stopped walking, abruptly. Surely she would have felt his presence if he had been there? She could feel the child in the white house, seemingly easier with every day that passed. Noah was her son, her own flesh and blood; would she not have instinctively known he was there?