Illicit Affair

Ashore

The cold moon soared up across the sky like a round, silver kite with a backdrop of twinkling stars an hour after the sun had dipped in the ocean and disappeared.

Agnes had never moved from the sand bed where she was sitting since the twilight to now, when the night at last had fallen in and the lasting light of the day had faded away along the horizon.

She was so very very tired to stand up on her feet, climb those hundred and thirteen steps up the cliff and walk to the Beverstone house.

She was fine here...for now. But the sand had gotten cold and the air was turning didacticaly frigid.

The waves were tirelessly hitting the shore and their edges were glittering with magical bioluminenting sea sparkles.

The bluish planktonic lighting.

The microalgae.

Their biological names yet to be determined. There phylum_ yet to be discovered.

Agnes watched the ocean intently, while the tide started to raise.
There was a nutmeg shaped conch lying near her left feet_ empty.

An abandoned abode, its creature long gone. Dead perhaps.
The calcareous covering left behind, like a token of history. A recollection of time.

A keepsake for those left behind. Those, who luckily remained. Or unluckily.

Sea-senses in it. And sea-sounds.

Sea winds.

Wet wind splashed her face. The intervals between her fingers felt sticky salty.

Years ago, on one night such as this; when ocean had been particularly noisy due to high tides_ when waves had been singing a soft chorus under the supervision of cold moon_ a news had been delivered to the siblings; her and Augustus.
A news that didn’t seem as devastating back then as it felt now, after all these years.

Mr. And Mrs. Miles couldn’t make it.

Their ship sunk into the ocean during their return from France right when they were about to reach the coast.

The news had pined into Agnes like sharp shard of dry glass in the palm.
The pain wasn't even available at first.
It took time for her to understand it.

The weight of it.

The meaning of it. The aftermath of it.

Her governess had broke into wails the moment that news touched her ears.
The maids and the servants had all....covered their faces or lowered their heads.

Agnes, she personally remembered, had looked up at Augustus' face to determine what to do.

She couldn’t figure out the_ "....couldn’t make it." Thing.

Augustus had been blankly staring ahead of himself.
But unlike Agnes', his blankness had a decisiveness in it. A cognition.

A cold understanding.

She was completely ignorant, on the other hand while he knew what it was supposed to mean; those words.

That same night; Augustus had tucked her in their parent's bed to her great confusion and joined in himself afterwards.

She lay on their father’s side. He, on mother's.

"If mamma knows of it Auggie_" She had giggled, holding her bunny near. "You will have your ear boxed by her."

Augustus had been staring at the ceiling, that little boy of nine_ suddenly not so little anymore.

"I wish she could." He had mumbled with a very sad smile, his voice grave.

Agnes had laughed loud at that and called him crazy.

She had slept soundly on that warm, massive bed_ that night, completely unaware of the doom she had been bestowed.

There was no one to tell her that your mother's boxing your ear is way better than your mother letting you be, never coming back to see you again.

But because Augustus seemed okay....she was certain everything was fine.

Next morning was particularly gloomy.
No one would talk to her. Augustus had been down to beach for some reason.
Her governess was praying without a pause.
Beverstone seemed busy.

She had run out; down to the beach before anyone could stop her.

How vivid that memory was in her mind...even today.

On the beach, Augustus had been there....behind a massive tuft of huge, wild sea grasses.
There were two life-size hollows dug up on the ground_ that looked oddly enough_ like graves.

But they weren't graves because there were no deads lying in them.

There had been however, familiar things lying on the soft, damp sand of the concave earth.

Her father's articles (cane, snuff box, notepad, diaries) in one. Her mother's comb, journals and silver powder box in another.

"Augustus?" She had cried, offended on her parent's behalf. "What are you doing? Ma and Papa would be so angry if..."

"What are you doing down here?" Augustus had demanded angrily, stomping his foot. "Go back to the cliff."

"I won't." Agnes had spat back. "I will tell Papa what mischief you have been causing lately and I will_"

"Shut up and get lost!" Augustus had roared louder, showing her a side of him she hadn't realised existed. "Go away! Leave me alone!"

Agnes had started crying then_ tearily, not because Augustus had shouted at her.

No.

But because she realized Augustus was himself crying.

"Go Agnes. Leave." Augustus had sobbed. "You aren't supposed to be here."

"Yes. I am going. I am...." Agnes had wiped her face angrily, from the sleeve of her gown. " I will go to Mamma and Papa. You are too bad. I will tell them! I won’t come back to you. I shall rather be with them."

"Agnes_"

"And dig one more hole too, won't you Auggie?" She had shoved her bunny into his chest forcefully. "Put this down into that. And my dolls and paint box as well. I am leaving."

But the moment she had turned away to leave, Augustus took her by her arm and whirled her around, taking her into his chest, into his arm_ hugging her like she was his own dear life.

Weeping into her thin shoulder.

Her brother.

Her Augustus.

His crying had made things appear terrible around her.

"Don't you too go Agnes!" He had sobbed, hiccuping on his tears, crying like a babe. "I won't be able to live without you....Don't leave me."

He had sounded sure of this truth. He had sounded certain of it.

That he wouldn’t be able to live without her.

That had been her Augustus...then.

And how wrong he was! He had managed well without her.

A cold wave of water touched the tip of Agnes' toes.

Past shuddered out of her. Present crept back up.

It had become chilly. The tides were now touching her feet. Her nose was freezing. The moon had glided higher into the cloudless nightly sky.

Agnes got up and left the beach_ she had a journey to London within two days.

She couldn’t fall sick now.

Couldn’t burden Augustus with that.
_________

Thanks for reading.