Downfall by S.D. Wasley

  Chapter 15: Exile

  Vanessa arrived early the next morning with her little BMW packed. We loaded Albion’s designer suitcase and my favorite touring backpack into the boot and set off on the three-hour drive. We arrived at Uncle Max’s weathered beach house in the tiny town of Darbon just before noon. After we’d unpacked Albion made me come for a walk along the beach. We took off our shoes and dragged our feet through the water in the gray winter daylight. I spotted dolphins playing in the waves.

  “Look, look, look!” I cried with excitement that surprised even me.

  We sat on the beach to watch the dolphins, gasping in appreciation whenever one performed a high jump for us.

  “You really are my best friend, Alby,” I told him, overwhelmed with sudden gratitude. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

  His face softened. “I’m touched. You mean a lot to me, Frankie. I’ve always loved you and your organized little ways. You’re an anachronism, you know. Somewhere under that practical, tidy exterior is a passionate heart. I always thought you were wasted as Uncle Don’s PA. You know,” he added, “having that job taken away could be the best thing that ever happened to you. You love touring so much ... you’re eighteen now so you can do your own touring. Real travelling.”

  “Dad won’t want me to go alone.”

  “He’s left you alone in Augur’s Well,” he reminded me. “Does he seriously still get to say what you can and can’t do?” I was silent. “I’d come with you in a heartbeat.” He made a face. “Although Dad’s started making noise about university.”

  I jumped up, took Albion’s shoe from his hand and turned to face the sand dune behind us. I lined up and threw the shoe to the top of the dune with unexpectedly mighty strength.

  “Hey!” he wailed. I faced him, grinning wickedly. “Go get it.”

  “No.”

  “Go get it,” he growled.

  “No way.”

  Albion looked at me in consternation before grasping my hand to drag me towards the dune. “Well, you can bloody well come with me then!”

  I followed him, giggling. At the top of the dune we both sat down to rest and catch our breath. But looking out over the ocean, thoughts of Cain ambushed me ... moonlight trembling on the lake in Augur’s Well, the smell of summer, the sheen on his skin ...

  “That guy. Cain.” It was like Albion read my mind. “Why won’t he leave you alone?”

  Maybe he felt safe to interrogate me while I stuck in Darbon, a long way from home and with no means of escape. Made sense. What was the point in hiding the truth now?

  “He wants me to go back.”

  “Where to?”

  “To be with them every night again.” The ache stirred and I growled my words against the pressing pain. “I’m not going back, though.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  I threw him an impatient glance. “What do you know about it?”

  “I know you’ve changed so much since you came to live with me, I can hardly believe you’re the same person.”

  I didn’t like that. I glared out over the ocean.

  Albion sighed. “It was so much simpler when we were kids. Remember when Mum and Dad used to bring me to stay with your mum and Uncle Don for holidays?”

  “I remember it a little. I can’t remember an awful lot about Land’s End or living with Mum.”

  “Do you talk to her much?”

  “No. We exchange an email every few months.”

  “What do you remember about Land’s End?”

  “The church. It was hot as hell on summer Sundays. Remember that? We never listened at Mass, Vanessa and I. We pretended to because we wanted to be like Dad. Mum only came on special occasions, of course, but Dad used to stare at the Father like he was enthralled. We tried to pay attention but it was so boring and lots of the other kids were playing Lego under the pews.”

  “Remember that game we played?” Albion laughed. “The Church of Charlie?”

  I frowned. “Huh? No.”

  “Oh, God. Vanessa will know it. It was after Mass on Sundays. You, me and Ness would take turns to stand on a milk crate with a strip of white cardboard at our necks and we’d be Father Charlie. We’d give a sermon on whatever subject we thought was relevant to us. It was more like advice for life: how to get extra pocket money from Dad after Mum had already given you some, or the best choice of sweets in a bag of lollies, or how to get sand out of your bathers in the water without anyone seeing.”

  I remembered. “Oh, wow. I’d totally forgotten about that! I remember the one you did about ... what was it? Some kid who smelled bad at your school?”

  “How to avoid having to sit next to Stinky Robbie during assembly.” Albion snort-laughed.

  His nostalgia made me sad. This despair was tainting everything, even the most ridiculous of my childhood memories. To stop myself thinking, I snatched up Albion’s shoe again and threw it down the dune. This time I ran down after it myself, leaving Albion up there alone. Was I really, truly, genuinely getting away from Cain, or my need for him? From Adsero nos and my accidental membership and its disastrous consequences? This was a kind of success, as bitter as it tasted. But―holy God―it was a lead-legs feeling, just like running from a monster in a dream.