

A Spell Cast

Volume One

A Seven Spell Story

T Stokes

****

ISBN 978-1-908210-90-6

Formerly published as a third of the book Spellbinding, this is not a new story, rather the re-edit, re-write and revise of part one. A Spell cast: Volume one, A Secret, a move and they all meet. Volumes two and three are also available.

Formatted for all new kindles and all e-readers

Published at Smashwords

Volumes two and three of A Spell Cast are also available

The moral right of the author has been asserted

Copyright all rights reserved worldwide T Stokes 2013

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. No part of this document may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author.

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return toSmashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to actual people living or dead is purely coincidental.

Covers, All rights reserved Worldwide Copyright T Stokes 2013

****

A Spell Cast

Volume One

A Secret, a move, and they all meet.

****

Oliver turned to me and with a look of wonder on his face continued, "Think about it, all those years, you could learn so much and do so much. So many chances to be anything you wanted, well maybe it wouldn't be quite that easy, but the time would be there to try.

Chapter One

I've always loved the color blue.

So when I first met him, naturally it was his blue eyes that had me taking notice, rather than what he was saying, but I really should have been listening, because he eventually changed my life.

****

My family had moved from California to an historic estate in England. I hadn't wanted to leave my friends, and everything I loved, but I had no choice. My mom was happy to go. She would do anything for my dad anyway, but she was genuinely happy to have the chance to go somewhere new. She was keen to make a new home in the huge ancient house we were going to live in and her work could be done from anywhere.

My dad was a chef. He had Michelin stars and his own cookbooks. He had found this place for sale, part of a massive estate where all kinds of conferences and other events took place, but also where there was a restaurant, and that was what he wanted.

Admittedly it was lovely, the whole place, the countryside the nearby rivers, the villages, the old buildings. I have to say even I liked it and I was really a Californian girl. I knew I would miss the warmth, the beach, and even though I was not a good surfer, I would miss just bobbing on the waves with my friends alongside.

I had applied to UCLA. My grandmother still lived near Los Angeles and I could always go back to study. This was my 'fail-safe.' I had told myself this so that moving to a new country was not so sad for me.

****

I was out walking, just looking around the nearby ruined abbey grounds. I heard water, my favorite geographical feature. I went towards the sound that of a waterfall. I had to stumble down a steep bank of vegetation to reach it. It was was thick with trees, bushes, clumps of fern, and some small pretty flowers. As I came to the bottom of the steep bank, I looked up from having watched my footing all the way down, and saw a very large pool of water. You might say a small lake. There was a waterfall at the far end. It was quite wide and sparkling here and there from sunlight that came through the leaves. It fell straight down, without foam, but into the pool like a silk curtain.

I saw someone on the far side of the pool.

It was a young man. He was dressed in what you might expect a medieval prince or some historical noble to wear. Partly armored and in thick studded leather, there was gray fur on the jacket shoulder and the collar. They were colorful clothes, and it looked like he wore jewels of some kind over the gloves on his hands. He had his hands and face covered in water as if he had scooped it from the water closest to him and now he was shaking it from his hands and face.

I was very close to the pool, and I looked down to check my footing, and then up again and in that instant he had moved to the bank beside the waterfall that was closer to me.

Apparently, I had imagined the strange clothes, as now he was dressed in jeans, sweater, and a leather jacket. His hair had appeared long and tied back, but now it was short, and tousled around the top of his ears.

He spoke with a very English accent and quite dismissively to me.

"Sorry you can't be down here, visitors are not allowed in this part of the estate, and it's dangerous."

Replying I smiled slightly.

"Oh sorry there are no signs. I heard the waterfall and just thought I would take a look be..."

"That's my fault," he cut in. "I haven't put the signs on the top path yet. I was about to do that."

He approached me. Walking quickly around the curve of the pool through the ferns, brambles and thickly grown vegetation until he was by my side. I realized, as he got closer that he was surprisingly beautiful.

I noticed the badge he wore on the lapel of his jacket. He saw me looking at it and held it for me to see. Tristan Dearing, Groundskeeper, Peacock Estates Inc.

I read this and noted in the corner of the badge, the familiar coat of arms and more modern logo that appeared all over the estate, including in my father's restaurant. I looked up and straight into his blue eyes.

They were such a lovely blue, a light navy and they sparkled, but in seconds, he had put on sunglasses. He hardly needed them down here in semi-gloom, with only an occasional shaft of brilliant sunlight, and sprinkle of bright spots through the leaves. I had to think he had done it to hide, which is what I do sometimes, but I mostly wear mine as protection because my eyes hurt in bright light. Even my sunglasses were in my jacket pocket right now.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I live up in the big house in the extra grounds next to the main estate. My father has the restaurant now in that conference and event complex. I was just exploring."

"Well don't explore down here," he shot back a bit too harshly for my liking as if I was a child. He could only have been a few years older than I was and so I felt a bit put out by his tone.

"Okay, Okay. I'm going back the way I came," I replied to his hardening expression. What was his problem?

His voice was cold, and he turned away adding, "Please don't come down here again."

I started back up the steep bank the way I had come down it as I had told him. It was hard not to turn around and watch what he did next, but I didn't.

I didn't want him thinking I cared what he did next. I couldn't shake the idea that I had seen something secret and strange.

He was strikingly good looking, hot might be the term really. I smiled at this thought as I hung onto large fern to lever myself up the bank. At the top, I scrambled through the last of the thick ferns onto the gravel path.

Chapter Two

The sun was warm now out of the wooded area. There was a smell of blossom, and songs of birds. I noticed a blue butterfly on the curl of a leaf. Putting on my sunglasses, I walked up to the wider path that led to the conference complex and restaurant. I wanted to call in on my dad and find out if he had meant it the night before when he had said he wanted me to help out, adding maybe it would take my mind off the loss of my friends.

Dad was conducting interviews today and tomorrow for wait staff and kitchen hands and such. He had already his team of chefs and a maître d' that he had worked with in the States. The kitchen was fitted with all the latest and best equipment and the eating area had turned out just the way he and his design team had ordered.

Dad had been here an extra month and a half sorting things out before we all came over. He had arranged the basics for the house we were to live in, but left the details to mom.

Mom's a software designer, a games software writer, she's between projects right now, but I knew that wouldn't last long as she was mad for her work. She had one of the bigger rooms in the house as her office.

All the rooms were big in the house we had to live in. The place has back stairs, and about five bathrooms. Her office had probably been a ballroom or something like that. It was a very old house as you can imagine, more like a small castle than anything but it had been modernized. The plumbing, the central heating, and all the electrics were only a couple of years old so it was going to be comfortable when we had settled in.

My younger brother Steven was disappointed. He was sure we were going to live in a semi-ruined place, which appealed to him for who knows what reason as he spent as much time in the bathroom on his looks as I did. Some parts of the house did date from medieval times and it was 'listed' my dad had said, although I didn't know what that meant at the time.

I had reached the back entrance to the restaurant kitchens. On the way there, I'd seen two peacocks walking in a snooty fashion across the back lawn. I loved them for their total indifference to any human who happened to be around, and for their strange cry that often echoed around.

Calling to my dad, I went in and through to the front of the restaurant. He was in conversation with Marcel the maître d', and was waving a large card around as he spoke. I went up alongside him and caught the card mid-wave, taking it from him. It was the menu design, the motif of a peacock embossed on the cream card and the colored logo in the extreme right hand corner. Dad stopped and turned to me.

"Hi sweetheart," he said. "You remember Marcel?" Marcel nodded at me and I smiled back.

Dad's phone rang, and he pulled his cell phone out of the back pocket of his jeans.

I said a few words of hello to Marcel, as dad was busy.

After the call, he went back to talking with Marcel about the table arrangements and I went around to the staff room to get a drink of water.

There was a small group of people in there, chatting, and drinking coffee. I really like the aroma of coffee, but the taste never lives up to that so I don't drink it, preferring tea, which my English grandmother had introduced me to years ago.

I went over to the fridge and took a bottle of spring water, and then sat in an empty chair at the end of the big oval table. This gave me a chance to check out one of them, who you might describe as disarmingly handsome. A guy with thick dark hair flopping over lovely gray eyes, a storybook angled jaw line and straight nose. Maybe he was in his early twenties, so a couple of years older than I was. He had a nice smile that put a dimple in his cheek as he talked to the girl sitting opposite. His hand gestures were attractive. The unbuttoned sleeves of his denim shirt were falling up his arms to reveal fine dark hairs and tanned skin. He must have felt me staring because he suddenly glanced my way and said 'hello,' leaning forward, and offering me his hand to shake.

"James Parker," he supplied.

The girl he'd been talking with turned to me.

"Liz, my name's Liz," she said.

Just as I was opening my mouth to introduce myself, dad walked in with Marcel, and Patrick one of the chefs. I think he was the Sous chef but honestly, I don't really know because cooking just isn't my thing. Despite wanting to support dad and help if I could, I wasn't interested in following in his footsteps, and he was cool about that.

We all looked at them and silence descended quickly as we waited for dad to speak.

The others would naturally have assumed I was there for an interview. Dad gave them a short introductory talk about the restaurant, his history, and vision. Then gave them the chance to ask questions, and I sat there wondering when I could make my escape.

"I'll get to you all individually as soon as possible and in the meantime chef will answer any questions you have if he can." He smiled at Patrick, and calling out a name from a list he had in his hand took Liz first to the office with Marcel, for her personal interview.

Attention turned to Patrick at the top end of the oval table.

I stood silently and went out of the door at the end of the room, a sort of corridor of shelves, which led to the herb gardens.

I wandered along there in the sun.

The ruined abbey in the close distance was still imposing.

I hadn't been there yet but my mom had said there was a museum in its gardens, housing a gift shop, as well as lumps of masonry that used to embellish the walls of the abbey. There were also archaeological finds and models of what the place would have looked like originally, but the most intriguing item, she had said, was great panels of stained glass window. They were still very beautiful and in pieces ranging in size from a dinner plate to about six feet across. The colors were glistening she had said, adding that with my interest in art and design I should check them out.

Maybe that's what I would do now, I thought. I didn't want to go home and check online again because I was missing people. The time difference between here and California meant that not many of my friends were online at the same time as I was because school was not over for the term yet, so I had been staying up way too late to catch them.

I walked quickly past the ornamental gardens, lawns, and the fountains along to the museum. The day had warmed up considerably and I took my jacket off and tied it around my waist by the arms as I walked. The grass was so green. The lawn border flowers were vibrant pinks and purples, with white blossom on glossy green leaved bushes, the whole place was like a poster for heaven.

At the museum, I found that there was a small charge for entrance and dug in the zipper pocket of my cargos for change. Paying and being given a booklet about the abbey, I went first to the chunks of carved stone that were positioned in one corner. They oozed age, and were carved with a lovely chevron pattern, in each of which was an oval with a carving of a saint, or religious icon. I wandered past carvings, pieces of pottery, some small amount of gold and silver artifacts, and mediaeval tiles on display in glass cabinets. I came to the stained glass windows some displayed in cases and others on special mounts, which allowed light to come through the glass. The colors were magnificent. I thought there was gold embedded in the glass somehow, as it shone so much. The smaller pieces had representations of creatures real and mythical, flowers and trees. The larger panels had more complete pictures of people, not just the expected saints and angels, but knights and horses.

As I studied the largest panel, one part of it shocked me. A waterfall and pool was portrayed and by the waterfall was a man on horseback. He was dressed as a knight, a prince, or something noble, a sword held high in his right hand as he looked out at the viewer, it was the grounds person, Tristan Dearing.

Could it be? I peered as close as I could get. Since the panel was on an angle, secured about a meter up the wall in order to get the light that came through the side windows of the museum building, the face of this person in glass was about two meters up. Was I imagining that it was Tristan?

I nearly fell forward into the bottom of the display area trying to see it better.

Someone approached probably afraid I was going to fall into the exhibit.

"We have posters and postcards of all the panels for sale," she said. "A couple of the posters are actually magnified sections of this very panel," she continued, pointing at the panel.

Without looking straight at her, as I was still staring at the stained glass, I asked,

"Do you have anything on the history of the stained glass, such as who and what story is portrayed here? Who made it that sort of thing?"

I tried to sound casual, but I was desperate for there to be something like that available. It's not every day you meet the twin of some guy burned in glass for all to see down the ages. I was still looking at that face, trying to superimpose from memory the lovely face of the harsh Tristan Dearing that I had met, onto the similarly lovely glass face of this person in the window panel and finding that I was just about convinced it was his twin, or him.

The female person at whom I had not once looked was back holding out items for sale. I finally looked at her and the items. She was a middle-aged lady, kindly looking, and dressed in a pale blue uniform. She offered postcards and a book in one hand, and posters in the other. Her name badge read, 'Ivy'.

I hadn't brought much money out with me as I firstly had not been to the local ATM, and secondly hadn't thought I would need any, but I always had a credit card. I asked if she took 'VISA.'

"Oh yes," she replied. "Which of these would you like?"

I looked at the postcards and posters in her hands.

"Is this the entire range about the stained glass?"

"No there are several more posters, and a few books that mention the stained glass windows. This book is the most popular." She smiled then.

I bought all the postcards and all the posters, which showed the stained glass, and the one book. It racked up fifty-five pounds, and thirty-five pence on my card. Cheap at the price I told myself, as I almost ran back to the restaurant.

Chapter Three

I hoped to have the big staff room table at the restaurant to scrutinize my haul and I still hadn't asked dad if I was to help in the restaurant, and thought I should. I was happy to find the room empty and started to place the postcards and posters on the table, holding down the rolled corners of the posters with bottles of water from the store in the back corridor shelving. I had just unrolled the last of the posters and secured the corners, when dad came in accompanied by James Parker. He must have been the last to be interviewed.

They both looked at the table full of posters and postcards and at me looking at them.

Dad chuckled. "You found something to interest you then, Chloe?" His voice was full of laughter.

He added, addressed to James, "This is my daughter Chloe. Chloe, this is James Parker. He'll be one of the wait staff here."

I had pushed my hair behind my ears, and as I moved forward, a few strands escaped back onto my face. I felt a mess. I held out my hand to him.

"Pleased to meet you," I said.

"I see the famous stained glass window has captured your attention." He nodded at the items on the table. "My grandfather excavated some of the archaeology up there at the abbey digs, years ago now, and there have been more recent digs. My grandfather is still around and only too willing to talk about the finds if you ever want to."

He stopped talking, and smiling at my dad, he held out his hand to take his leave.

"Well, thank you Mr. McGarry. I'll see you tomorrow morning when we begin the orientation with Marcel."

He turned and went out the front door of the staff room to go through the body of the restaurant, and out of the main doors.

Dad looked at me.

"He's a student, needs work to help pay his tuition, nice boy. Since you are tied up with all this," he said, spreading his hands out to indicate the contents of the table, "I'm off to make sure we will be ready to open on time."

With that, he walked off in the same direction James had, and I hurried back to my posters and cards. It seemed to me that what I needed now was a picture of Tristan to compare with the face in the stained glass. I decided that the next day I was going to sneak back to the waterfall with my Moms camera. It had great zoom lenses. Surely, I'd be able to get a close up of Tristan's face without him knowing. I could hardly wait.

That night I did read the book I had bought a little, but was pre-occupied by the need to make sure I was not imagining that Tristan was the figure in the stained glass. I did wonder as I eventually drifted off to sleep why I felt so strongly about this whole thing. It was as if some obsession had gripped me in the space of a day. Tristan's face was clear in my mind, but I had to ask myself how I could be so sure, because I really had not seen him for that long. He had hidden behind sunglasses and had been behind the spray from the curtain of water. Instinctively I knew that I had not been mistaken about the clothes and dagger, but he hadn't been wearing them up close had he?

Chapter Four

I must have fallen asleep, because it was suddenly morning.

I didn't want breakfast. I rushed in the shower and got soap in my eyes then dropped the shampoo, cursing I was finally dressed.

Mom let me have her camera, and then went back outside to the patio area where she and my brother were eating. They resumed talking animatedly about a PlayStation game. I called, 'see you Steven' to him, and waved at mom.

I'd told mom that I wanted to photograph some of the local flowers and scenery so that I could do some drawings and design work from them. I would too, but that was not my primary goal today. Today I wanted to see Tristan, capture his image, and compare it with the stained glass.

It took me a couple of tries to find the same way I went down to the pool as the last time. Though I could hear the waterfall, the bank was so crowded with brambles the first try, and so slippery with wet ferns the next, then I found it, the way down I had taken last time, sort of a path. I still had to watch where I placed my feet, but I reached the bottom of the bank. I didn't want to be seen so I stayed there for a moment looking around for cover. Then behind a huge elder bush, I got the camera propped into the branches, put on the zoom lens, and waited. I'd chosen about the same time of day as when I'd first seen Tristan, maybe just a bit earlier, but since I had no idea when he might appear I hunkered down ready for a wait.

When he did appear, it was from the left of the pool, in amongst the brambles he strode as if he was gliding not walking. He was humming, which was interesting as somehow I had endowed him with a sad character and humming meant happy to me.

He stopped humming as he got to the pool edge, bending down he dipped his hands into the water and splashed it up onto his face. I was photographing him like mad at this stage, even though I didn't have a full-face view yet, and I was hoping he wouldn't hear the clicking of the camera. I'd taken the auto flash off because it would have gone off in this light.

As the water hit his face, it seemed as if it was the cue for a shaft of sunlight to break through the tree canopy and he lit up in white light shimmering into rainbow as the drops scattered around on his skin, and clothes. Before my eyes, and to my astonishment, his clothes changed into the leather and fur I had seen yesterday when he was behind the waterfall spray. His hair was long again, down to below his jaw, tied back by a leather strap. This time too I could see a belt with a short sword, jewel handled and in a sheath on the belt. Then, as quickly, he stood up, the sun shaft had gone, the water shaken from his hands, he was back in the jeans and jacket he had arrived in gliding through the brambles.

'Far out' I murmured and stopped photographing him because he had frozen still looking straight at me. I thought, 'he can't see me, can he?' I'd been careful about hiding. Maybe he'd heard me. In that second, I decided to walk out nonchalantly as if I'd just arrived. Leaving the camera hidden I stood up and did that. He took the tiniest step backwards then regained his composure and stood his ground as I approached.

"Didn't you get it when I told you not to come down here yesterday?" He sounded annoyed but less angry than I had expected.

"I lost my cell phone," I lied, "and I thought maybe I'd lost it down here so I thought I'd do a quick check."

He looked at me strangely. I don't think he believed me. Those navy blue eyes of his were lovely. I thought 'he's totally gorgeous.'

"Well," he smiled a little. "Here's my phone, call your number and maybe we can hear it, if it's down here anywhere, that is."

Clever I thought. When I had made up the lie, I hadn't expected him to have a cell phone. I thought it didn't fit in with whatever he was, but he got one out of his jacket pocket, and was holding it out to me.

"I don't know my number, it's a new phone since we only just moved here from America and I just haven't memorized it yet," I said, and this was partly true, you can probably guess which part.

For a long moment, we looked at each other, and I wished that I could get to know him because something stirred in me. I felt drawn to him. Even though he was being unfriendly, I got the impression that it wasn't true to his character at all. His face was kind, almost sad, the cheekbones just high enough and the nose just rounded enough to be beautiful, but masculine.

He seemed to make his mind up about something because he suddenly broke eye contact, put on those sunglasses of his and saying, "Good luck finding your phone," he made straight for the hill bank behind me where the camera was.

I nearly choked out the words. "Thank you I don't intend staying down here long, and if you find my phone maybe you could drop it into the restaurant." Was there no end to my lies?

It stopped him walking straight into finding the camera, because he angled out to half turn to me and replied, "Sure."

He strode out along the other side of the pool and at the foot of the falls on the far side, which was lined with nettles he started up what must have been some steps. They were hidden from view, and he ascended the steep side a meter at a time.

I didn't want to but I crashed around for a while pretending to look for my phone, when to my horror it started to ring in my pocket, the distinctive MP3 I had as my ring tone belting out.

I grabbed it out of my pocket. Lucky I was already bending down slightly as this helped me to retrieve it more quickly from the knee pocket of my cargos. "Hello," I whispered, though the whisper would have been futile, the ring tone had been so loud had anyone, especially Tristan been in earshot, they would have heard it.

My brother was looking for me, where was I? We were supposed to go into town today as we were picking up a car with mom. She was driving a rental. Dad had a car already. I'd been promised one, but driving on a different side of the road seemed a bit of a stretch. Today I was going to have to do it as I was bringing back the rental whilst mom drove her new car back to the house. I still hadn't started calling this place home yet. I needed to do that.

I crashed back to the camera, yanked it from the bush, and placing it in the case that I had left on the ground hurried back up the bank.

What I didn't know then was that as careful as I usually was with technology, and other people's belongings I had accidentally let a lens cap fall out of the case. I'd left it in the top lid area and in my hurry to get going, it had just slipped out as I closed the case already walking up the hill.

Chapter Five

My mom and brother were sitting at the outdoor table, she with a newspaper spread out in front of her, he with his netbook open. Apologizing I asked if we were ready to go.

Mom answered, "Yes let's get going. I want to call in the superstores on the outskirts of the village on the way to the car sales yard."

As we cruised along in the rental, my mind was on Tristan.

I looked out of the window. There was a hot air balloon up in the blue sky the yellow and red stripes on the balloon quite visible. It was a great sight. Who said in England it was always raining, so far my stay had been at least half-bright sun and blue skies. Even when it had been cold, the sun had sparkled the day up.

I went in the store with mom helping her rush around. People think that when your dad has a restaurant you don't need to shop and cook and so on, but not true, you do, and often we didn't see dad for days at a time when he was busy.

We got on the road to the car yard again and when we arrived mom gave me the rental keys. I decided to drive up and down the parking area pretending to be on the road and on the wrong side of it, well right side for England. It hardly took any time for her to come out with the Jeep Cherokee she had bought and gesturing for me to follow her turned out onto the real road.

It was easier than I thought to drive home. There I called it home.

I had a turn of driving mom's new car along the side road, and up and down the big driveways of the house.

I missed my shabby old Wrangler that we'd left in California with my gran.

It was later in my room that I booted my laptop and connected the camera.

****

My room is in two parts, the front part, which has a huge window and a back part, which has three smaller windows and a bathroom attached. The bathroom is a bit scary as there is a door in there, locked from my side of course, but it leads to an old stone staircase, which goes right down the house in a series of steep zigzags to the end of the kitchen where another door leads into it. My room is fantastic really and I love the fact I have a desk near the big window. I can draw there in fabulous light, and my bed is under one of the smaller windows where I can see right out into the sky at night. There are no buildings, so I don't need drapes. When the sky is clear, there are stars out there on view. I don't like much furniture but I've allowed myself a long cupboard for my clothes that was in one of the other rooms. It took three of the guys mom had moving things to get it into my room and they had a furniture trolley. The carving on the top and on the feet of the cupboard is especially attractive, and it had faded over the years to a light color. I knew it had been a darker wood to begin with because the interior had dark places where no light could have penetrated.

****

My computer booted, and the software opened the photograph folder and the array of thumbnails unfolded as I had set it up to do. I was shaking a bit as I clicked on view on the toolbar and chose filmstrip. The first few photographs were of Tristan as he glided through the brambles, then of him as he bent to the water, and then the ones of him in the shaft of light and his change of appearance.

It was hard to slow down and really take in all the details of each photograph because I just wanted to choose the best view of him. I printed a view and moved to my drawing table where on the board at the back I had pinned the best postcard of the stained glass window person. I put the print out next to it. There was no mistake it was him. It seemed so fantastic that I wanted to make doubly sure.

I'd scanned one of the postcards, which depicted this part of the stained glass panel. Now I put the scanned jpg next to the actual photograph of him, with the software I chose the layer, and compared his real head to the one in stained glass to make sure it was Tristan Dearing. It was him. The stained glass maker with breathtaking skill had captured his likeness as if it was a photo. I found I had been holding my breath and suddenly exhaled, breathing out the words 'oh my god' out at the same time. Suspicions confirmed I now had to wonder who or what he was.

You see I was thinking it could have been my imagination. I was fully prepared for it to be me just seeing some resemblance in the stained glass not really the very image of him. This was intriguing, like something from a movie.

I wanted to find out about him more than I wanted dinner and I dashed off to the restaurant to find out if dad knew anything about the staff of the estate.

Dad was just finishing up the second day of interviews for his staff, and from the look on his face, he'd found people he wanted.

"Chloe," he joked, "you've missed your interview time, and now I have no more vacancies, so going to an English college is your only option."

I knew part of this was not a joke. My parents thought education opened every door whilst not being too strict about it, and I knew I was expected to study soon as well as anything else I chose to do.

"Dad," I rushed, "what do you know about the rest of the staff on the estate, you know like the gardeners and the resort and conference staff, that sort of thing?"

"Not much sweetheart, but I'll be finding out soon as every single one of them is invited to a garden party we are throwing on Saturday late afternoon and evening in the grounds. You know just past the lawns there." He waved his hand towards the big windows and the view. "It's a welcome, and a trial run for all the staff in the restaurant, because next weekend we are catering a wedding here, and its outdoors, so marquees, boats on the pond... Their ceremony will have been up at the ruins, so..." He smiled at me raising his hands to indicate the level of quality he expected and added, "Hey you're invited to the garden party."

This was cool. Tristan was bound to be there at the party.

As I was expressing excitement for the garden party, James Parker appeared with a few other people, obviously dad's new staff. I was still beaming joy when I looked at him and then the others saying hello, and hello again as I saw Liz was amongst the people. There was another girl about the same age as Liz and I, and three young men besides James, although they seemed younger than he did. There were three older people, two women and a man, then Marcel. I knew these people would be the core wait staff along with agency people employed for bigger events. I didn't know who the rest of the chefs were and the wine people, I guessed they were drawn from the array of people dad had worked with over the years. I went with them to the big table.

Tablecloths had been removed to reveal there were plates of sandwiches, salads in small serving bowls, a big cake next to a stack of plates, and a pitcher of juice as well as misty bottles of water obviously cold. On the counter, the coffee was almost ready. This must be break time for the crew and I didn't want to intrude, but dad set about introducing me to them.

The younger guys were Ben, Will, and Oliver. Here was another very attractive guy in my opinion, blonde hair short, straight, and spiked on top just a little so that some fell down onto his forehead, brown eyes, tall and very well spoken.

The other girl, Clare, gave off an air of real friendliness and had a sparkle about her, black hair and blue eyes that were almost aqua, she was striking.

The older people, Peter, Jen, and Patricia were nice, and shook my hand.

Everyone was eating and talking, and it looked like they were a team already.

Clare came right back to me as soon as she had put sandwiches on her plate.

"Hello again," she said smiling, and picking up her sandwich. Before she took a bite she asked, "Will you be helping out in the restaurant, Chloe?"

"I don't know really," I answered. "Maybe sometimes I will when everything about the move is settled. I don't have any skills really, like I bet you know silver service for instance."

She smiled again.

"I do, but only because I've been doing this work since I was fifteen and even before I was helping Mom in her café in the village. I paid my way through drama school with it."

She finished her sandwich and I started to tell her about my interest in art and design, but that moving from the States had kind of put me off track and I would need to give serious thought to what I was going to do next. We were having a conversation about fashion design and if I dabbled in that when James came over. He was looking at Clare when he asked 'hello how are things going' and there was no mistaking his interest in her. I felt I needed to melt away and answering 'I was doing well, hope he was too' I excused myself to grab a sandwich and I headed for the table.

Oliver, one of the younger guys, was also taking a sandwich from the same plate and we got talking easily. He lived nearby. He was trying to get his own IT business going, but needed some kind of definite income too, because he still had some studying to do. I told him about mom and her game software designing, and he was delighted by this.

We were standing closer and closer as we found we liked the same music, used the same brand of laptop, even liked some of the same foods, when we were interrupted by Marcel.

Clapping a few times to get attention Marcel announced that it was time for 'us to have a few last discussions people, thank you.'

Before he followed the others, Oliver leaned in to be close to me and asked 'would I be at the garden party and he hoped so,' he spoke so very quietly and close to me that it felt like a kiss.

I nodded and he drifted off with the others.

As Liz passed, she touched my elbow and said, "See you Chloe." She was closely followed by Will, his shock of red hair tucked into a headband.

I hadn't spoken to her or anyone other than Clare and Oliver, but I felt better than I had felt since getting on the plane at LAX. I felt like there were people here I could start to befriend.

As for Tristan, I can't do much more than see if he turns up on Saturday to the garden party all the staff are invited to.

Chapter Six

When I got home at about nine o'clock, mom and Steven were in their respective hidey-holes. I called in on each, asking Steven about the school he was joining for just a couple of months before it would break up for the summer holidays. It was an all boys school not far away. There were boarders as well as day students, and surprisingly Steven was looking forward to it. Having had a visit there last week he felt sure he could make friends with a few of the boys and had been happy to find there was a strong music ethic there. Already he had mentioned his interest in forming or joining a band. He'd met another boy who lived nearby and who was as mad about music as he was.

Steven was a cool younger brother, he didn't tease or play tricks on me like some siblings of my friends, and I counted myself lucky because we were close.

"Hey Steven have you been for a wander around the estate at all?" I asked not expecting he had, since he'd been busy lining up school and buying the uniform.

He smiled. "I walked up to the abbey with mom and we snooped around the ruins and a big house in the part where the greenhouses are. That's where the plants used in the weddings and events come from," he told me and I nodded interested. A segment of the ruins had been decked out with candles and white painted metal chairs, flower garlands on the backs of them. He grinned, "There must be such a lot of business goes on here it's a mine of activity." Then he added, "We met one of the groundskeepers. He was in one of the greenhouses and came out to see if he could help us, because we weren't really supposed to be around that area. It's clearly sign posted but you know what mom is like about plants, she just wanted to look at them."

"Oh," I said not wanting to sound too interested in the grounds person, even though I knew it had to be Tristan. "What happened?"

"He was cool. He took us into the greenhouse and showed mom some orchids and lots of other flowers that he said they sometimes were requested to supply for wedding bouquets. I think he liked mom because she loves plants and he obviously does too."

"I guess you didn't find out his name?" I queried as casually as I could.

"We did as a matter of fact. Mom asked him when she was thanking him for the tour of the greenhouses, and he was called Tristan. Why do you ask?"

I couldn't tell him the truth so I told him I had seen a groundskeeper on my walk and wondered if it was the same one. Steven innocently commented that there was probably more than one and then asked about dad, laughing that he always knew things were going well for the business when he hardly ever saw dad.

After popping my head around the door of mom's massive study and finding her at a computer screen modeling a figure onto some extremely realistic water. I just said goodnight and I went back to my room and sat down at my own desk.

I looked again at the pictures of Tristan. I knew now that he might be found in those greenhouses as well as down at the waterfall. This was promising because it was somewhere he might be friendlier than at the waterfall. I picked up the postcard that showed his face well, and the print out of the photograph I'd taken.

I put them on my bedside table and took a shower.

Standing in the soothing sprinkles of water, I thought about Tristan.

How could it have gone unnoticed that he looked like one of the figures in the stained glass windows? Surely, I couldn't be the only one who had noticed it? What was going on here?

Maybe I'd only noticed it because I'd gone straight from seeing him to the stained glass display and maybe if I hadn't done that, I wouldn't have noticed. Who knows I thought, stepping out of the shower and cleaning my teeth.

Preoccupied with my thoughts of Tristan I got into bed.

It was still early for me so I opened the book about the stained glass windows and started reading. I must have been more tired than I thought because the next thing I knew I was woken by birds. It sounded like hundreds of birds. My biggest window was open, and I stumbled up to close it because it was barely light.

I looked for the birds. There was a crowd on a nearby tree, but also they were all over the lawns below pecking at something. Glancing at the group of trees beyond the lawns, I saw a figure. Since the light was so bad and it was a fair distance off I couldn't be sure, but I got the feeling that it was Tristan, just leaning against a tree and looking down at the ground there. I was cold and went over to my cupboard for a sweater, but when I got back to the window whoever it was had gone.

I got back in my bed, but only snoozed on and off until about seven thirty, and in between snoozes I planned to buy a dress for Saturday. I might need shoes too since I just had a pair of sneakers and a pair of clogs with me which were the latest fashion amongst my friends.

The sun was out and the birds were gone from the lawn when I got up feeling like the last two hours had made me tired, and I should have stayed up at dawn. Yawning I went down to the kitchen. No one was there and I got some orange juice out of the fridge, put water in the electric kettle and set it to boil.

'That figure in the edge of the trees at dawn was odd,' I thought, but then maybe it wasn't, who knows what goes on at dawn in rural England. I chose some raisin pancakes out of a packet in the fridge and put them in the toaster.

When I was at the table with my tea and pancakes, I heard mom coming down the stairs talking on her cell phone. She seemed to be talking to one of her colleagues in the software company she worked with. I heard her say 'see you then Kim' and I knew Kim. I had met him a few times.

"I'm going into town today to buy a dress," I said to mom, adding, "was that Kim on the phone, what do you mean see you, is he coming over?"

She grinned. "No, at least not yet, it was just a figure of speech, and if you're going into town you can take the rental car. It's rented until the end of next week. Why do you want a dress, are we going somewhere, maybe I need a dress too?" She laughed putting instant coffee into her cup and pouring water onto it, releasing the lovely but deceptive aroma of coffee. Dad hated instant but mom didn't care. She always talks quickly and drinks way too much coffee in my opinion.

"There's a garden party for the staff of the whole estate on Saturday. A big event and a practice run for the restaurant wait staff, and for dad I guess. Didn't he tell you?" I was smiling at her.

She answered, "Dad came in when I was asleep and then left about six this morning saying he'd get home for lunch today to see me, but nothing about the party."

"Will you come out shopping for a dress then mom?" I asked. I knew she hadn't got much to wear either, but more than that, if she came I could maybe get some information about Tristan from her. We did end up going together, but didn't get into town as we passed a retail park and noticed several clothes shops. They had lots of attractive clothes in them and we both ended up buying a couple of unusual t- shirts as well as a dress each.

Mom is great to shop with, and the dress she got was an antique pink color with long sleeves and a scoop neck. It was knee length on her and as it had a pencil skirt, looked sophisticated and expensive. My dress was a short shift in a flowered print in all kinds of green on a white background, and it had a V-neck and deep V-back. I got some flat ballet style shoes in white to go with it, as I'm hopeless with heels though I wish I wasn't, as I need the height in my opinion.

On the way home, I decided to ask her about Tristan.

"I heard from Steven that you were shown around one of the estate's greenhouses," I began.

"Yes," she answered. "By a friendly young man, and a good looking one too, you'd like him." She smiled at me. "His name is Tristan and he grows orchids, and roses, and such for wedding bouquets," and then she added. "Hey, maybe you will get to meet him on Saturday, if he's there I'll introduce you," she giggled, teasing me.

We got home in time to join dad walking in the door with a big smile across his face, mom linked arms with him, and they went into the kitchen leaving me with the clothes shopping bags. I ran up the stairs two at a time to dump the bags on our respective beds and go down to see dad because I wanted to be in on any news about the staff or the restaurant.

Dad was eating a sandwich and mom was making tea, he had already told her about Saturday because she was in the process of describing the dresses we bought.

I asked, "Dad, how do you like your wait staff? I think the ones I have met are nice."

He swallowed. "They are good. We should have a great team in no time at all." Then smiling he added, "Any particular one of them you're interested in, such as James Parker?"

I grinned and answered.

"Well I thought I might be when I originally met him, but he was very keen on Clare at the break last night so I left them to it and had a good talk with Oliver."

"Oliver," dad said. He looked at mom and they both smiled.

"What?" I said looking from one to the other.

"Nothing Chloe," Mom soothed. "Seriously, just that you don't usually admit interest in anyone until you simply have to." She placed a big emphasis on the word have.

I smiled at them both. "I just enjoyed talking with him."

Chapter Seven

Saturday, I was in my room looking at the postcards and thinking about what I had read in the book about the stained glass windows. No one really knew who chose the subject matter of the windows, nor if there were real people represented, but there was a theory that a local legend was represented. It did say that the biggest panel had been commissioned by a local knight in remembrance of his son. I searched the book for the identification of the largest panel, but it dealt chiefly with the breaking up of the abbey, the rescue of the stained glass by a local family and then the archaeological digs. It also talked about the glass technique and compared the glass with other abbeys. I stopped reading and decided to Google the abbey as soon as possible.

I would have to do it later, as I needed to get ready for the garden party and took a shower humming a song I'd heard in the clothes shop yesterday and had been singing ever since.

I thought I might wear my hair up with a few well-chosen strands hanging down to soften the effect. I liked to wear green kohl as it emphasized my green eyes and began to put it on carefully. I wasn't good at makeup.

I walked over to the garden party with mom. Steven was already over there. He wanted to check out the band that was coming to play. The lead guitarist was the big brother of a boy he'd met in his school visit. They both loved music.

There were quite a few people there already. I was surprised because I hadn't realized that there were so many estate staff, and more were wandering down the paths. They stopped to take a drink from the various tables that were set up and greeted people they knew.

We walked along to the first marquee where tea and coffee was available. James was in there and said hello as he passed giving us both a lovely smile. Clare came by with a plate of fruit kebabs and they both sparkled at each other before she went to the table that was already laden with an assortment of fruit and cakes and carefully positioned the plate.

The band started playing, and we headed over there to check on Steven. He was with a boy carrying on a loud conversation and they were dragging some chairs along to the side of the small raised area that was serving as a stage.

We walked up to them.

"Hi Mom, Chloe," Steven said. "This is John his brother is in the band. I met him last week in my school visit."

John said hello to mom and me, before both he and Steven started to lift chairs off the stack they had been dragging and position them in the grass.

I was looking around for Tristan all the time.

I noticed Liz serving champagne, and Will was further along the lawn serving what were probably canapés. There was no sign of Ben or Oliver yet. Mom suggested we go into the restaurant and say hello to dad.

Dad was rushing a little.

"Hello, you two look lovely. Sorry I'm still really busy because both Ben and Oliver are late, so some of the plates are not out yet, though we are going okay," he called.

"Oh no," both Mom and I said at exactly the same time, then looked at one another and giggled, but then I asked.

"Dad, so why are they late?"

He piled some freshly cooked fritters on a large oval plate saying,

"Ben was giving Oliver a lift. His car is still in the garage having the cylinder head replaced. Then Ben's car broke down as they were coming here. Luckily Ben's dad was doing a glazing job at the pub not far away and is picking them up and dropping them very soon, I hope," he chuckled.

When mom and I went back outside, Oliver and Ben nearly ran into us at the door.

Oliver looked very cool in his white shirt and bow tie. He'd spiked his hair up a bit more, and it emphasized his lovely eyes. We looked at each other and I felt a buzz of attraction to him. I think the feeling was mutual as he gazed back.

Ben called out, "So sorry Mr. McGarry."

Oliver gave me a little wave.

Outside the air was cooling slightly with a breeze, and the lights had been switched on all over the garden. The trees and bushes had been decked out with fairy lights. On the lake, boats decorated as swans were already filled with people. The whole effect was very festive and happy. Mom went to get some food and, she said, to mingle because we are part of the estate now.

I wanted to wait for Oliver to come out with his serving dishes or whatever, but at the same time, I wanted to find Tristan.

I started to look in each marquee. I stood on the lakeside looking at the people in boats, went along all the pathways to each table, and then down to the band. I hadn't seen him and was becoming convinced that he wasn't there, when, there he was, leaning against a chair, his hands placed on the back of it talking animatedly over the shoulder to the old man who was sitting in it.

Dressed in jeans as usual and this time a pale blue linen shirt, and gray tailored jacket, Tristan looked good. His hair was messy over his ears, but so clean and glossy, you wanted to touch it. To my surprise as I approached so did Liz, she offered food from her tray, but then started to talk to Tristan, and not in a way that strangers do. It was apparent she knew him. Interesting I thought, and continued towards them, because now I had a good excuse to talk to the group, I could say hello to Liz.

"Hello Liz, how are you doing? I heard the team was down two wait staff," I started to say.

Liz smiled. "Yes, but they're here now. I was just saying to Tristan that the boss's daughter was heading my way and I better get back to work."

I knew she was joking, and smiled. "I just saw you and came to say hello because we haven't had a chance to say much to each other since the afternoon of the interviews."

"This is Tristan a cousin," she said beaming at me and then at him. "This is my grandfather," she continued, indicating the old man sitting in the chair, who wasn't looking at me, so neither of us could acknowledge the introduction.

"I've met Tristan before, a couple of times," I said quietly. I waited to see his reaction.

He looked at me, and then at Liz as he said, "Yes down by the waterfall."

Some hidden communication went on between him and Liz, and then Liz looked at me. I thought there was alarm in her eyes.

I decided to play it cool saying, "Well he is a grounds person after all, and I had wandered into a part of the grounds not open to visitors." I thought I'd convinced her at least of my indifference to both Tristan and the waterfall, the mention of which was what must have caused the silent communication between them.

Liz seemed relieved, and stated, "I do need to get back to work I'll see everyone later."

She turned and went up the path, and I watched her go. A dainty figure, her short, angle cut, chestnut hair blown slightly back by the evening breeze, the fairy lights she passed picking out the red streaks in her hair and adding a golden sheen to them. Her step was light and elegant. She looked like a dancer.

I made a huge effort to be disinterested addressing Tristan, and was about to say something inane to be able to stay now that Liz had gone, when taking something out of his jacket pocket he beat me to it.

"You left this behind the other day when you'd been looking for the phone that was allegedly lost." He held out a lens cap.

I felt hot.

"Oh that must have fallen out of my pocket," I croaked, my mouth dry. "Thank you." I had to take it, since it was obviously one of mom's.

"I'm glad to see you haven't disowned it." Tristan was looking at me intently. I felt like he could see into my soul with those navy blue eyes of his.

"No, no, it was in my pocket and I think it fell out when I..."

"...Took your phone out to answer the call that sent a ring tone echoing around the whole place, horribly loud but a fine tune. I heard it above the waterfall." His voice was almost taunting as he cut my sentence off.

I looked straight at him. "Were you spying on me?" I asked.

"No more than you were spying on me," he retorted, adding, "at least I wasn't taking photographs of you. Tell me did they turn out well, do I get to see them?"

I was intensely uncomfortable telling another lie but felt I must.

"I was photographing flowers, blossoms, and leaves. I use photographs to help with design. I like to draw things like that sometimes." He was still staring intently at me. If I hadn't felt so horrible lying all the time I would have liked this eye contact, he was so good-looking, you just wanted to look at him.

"Okay, and what about the phone, you hadn't lost it had you?" he persisted.

I decided to own up to that, but with another lie as cover.

"Well I used that excuse to be down there by the falls again because I'd noticed all the great plants the day before and wanted to photograph them. I thought since you'd said not to come down there that..."

He cut me off again. "Okay," he said, but he didn't seem convinced.

Floundering around for a topic of conversation that wasn't going to incriminate me in some way, I tried smiling since my face was hurting from my trying to fix a look of innocence on it instead of horror.

"So you're Liz's cousin?" I managed to say.

He seemed to relent on the intensity of his manner, and shrugging a little, he told me that he was, but a distant cousin. He'd stayed with her family periodically in the past and when he'd come to work on the estates, he stayed on.

I was relieved that he seemed to have accepted my lies. I told him that he'd met my mother and brother a couple of days ago when he'd shown mom around the greenhouses, adding that she loved plants of all kinds, and had told me what a treat it was to see the orchids and roses.

This struck some chord with him because he actually divulged that he loved plants and working with nature, but that sometimes, he hated cutting the roses for bouquets, and displays, even though he knew that was why he was growing them.

We were connecting I thought, this is good.

"Have you always worked in gardens, where were you before Peacock estates?" I asked, wanting to prolong the conversation as much as possible. I wanted to find out as much as I could about this mysterious person who had changed into a fairy tale character and back again. Just thinking those thoughts had me sort of smiling at the absurdity of it but since it was also extraordinary, well unbelievable really, I felt a shiver of excitement go down my back. This direct questioning about his past worried him.

The tone of his voice told me he was not fully telling the truth when he said, "More or less, oh a big estate in Cornwall. I doubt you would know it since you come from America."

With that, he started to help the grandfather up from the chair where the old man had nodded off for a few minutes.

"I need to take grandfather back home...he just came for a little air...maybe later," he said and with that, he turned away from me.

It was a dismissal that I couldn't ignore.

"Bye then," I uttered into space, as he had moved off with the old man surprisingly quickly. I felt disappointed.

I looked around. The sun was starting to go down. I realized I was hungry and went off to find something to eat. I wondered if I would see Oliver. It felt like he was safe, and comforting. I felt warm inside when I thought of him and I liked him too, his whole attitude was happy.

I came across Clare carrying a tray full of small glass cups of hot chocolate and she offered me one.

She started to talk about the party.

"The party is great don't you think? I'm so glad I got the chance to work here at the restaurant. I didn't know whether to try for the job or not when I saw it advertised. I was thinking of doing a summer school offered at RADA, but I really need to earn money not spend it, even though I'm dedicated to Drama, I'm also dedicated to eating." She laughed, throwing back her lovely head of black hair.

Clare was beautiful I thought. Then she said more softly as if it was a secret.

"I wouldn't have met James either and I'm so glad I did."

She looked around as if afraid he might be near hearing it before she added,

"Love at first sight for me I think."

I was happy for her, and told her that when I saw James on the first day of interviews I thought he was gorgeous, but that it was Oliver who had caught my eye now.

"What are you doing after the party?" she asked. "We're all having a quiet debrief with Marcel as the cleaning crew will be coming in the morning. Then we're helping with clearing the plates into the kitchens as soon as the band has stopped playing to signify the end of the evening. We thought after that we'd just get a few things to eat, drink, and sit outside on the paved area of the restaurant to celebrate a great start to formal work. Will you come up and join us?"

"Cool," I replied, "I'd love to." I watched her walk away. James was coming down the path. They looked at each other and smiled.

I went looking for mom and Steven. He was easy to find, as he was still by the band. I told him where I was going to be if mom was looking for me at the end of the party and asked what he'd be doing.

"Helping out with John and then going up to see dad," he told me.

Then I heard a familiar voice calling my name, it was mom waving, and coming along the path, she was going up to see dad and hang out in the restaurant for a while. I told her what I was planning to do, so we linked arms, and walked up there.

There were a couple of peacocks doing their stately walk across one of the lawns. People had started to go home and no one was out on the lake. All the swan boats were moored now at one end. The lights were still on all over the gardens and there was a magical air about the place now that the moon was fully out. It had become slightly chilly because the sky was very clear and stars were visible.

Mom said, "Hey there's Oliver. I can see why you're interested in him."

"Mom," I said laughing. "You're incorrigible," but we both laughed as she went on to go through the doors to see dad. I turned onto the paved area outside it, and walked along to where I could see Oliver, Clare, James, and Marcel.

Oliver looked up from talking to Marcel and smiled a little at me. He seemed less pleased to see me than earlier when he first arrived, and I wondered why.

Then Marcel turned around and told everyone he was pleased with them and that he knew dad was too, and he talked about the wedding coming up. He finished up saying anyone wanting coffee to come inside. Pat and Jen went in. Peter took a dish of strawberries and followed them in. Will went in too, but everyone else stayed outside at the table and taking a bottle of water Oliver passed close to me, to sit on the low wall looking out at the lake in the fading light.

I went to join him because I thought that must be what he hoped I would do in passing so close to me.

"So how did tonight go for you Oliver?" I opened with this safe remark.

He half turned to me and replied, "Good after we got here. It was lucky that Ben's dad was working close by and could come to the rescue. I felt bad about being late but your dad was cool about it, and you, what have you been doing for the evening?"

I didn't really want to say I spent the night tracking down Tristan.

"I met Liz talking with her grandfather and cousin. Then I stayed talking to them for a while after she went off to serve drinks. Her cousin was telling me about growing flowers." I smiled at Oliver and hoped the look I gave him was one of being pleased to see him because I was actually, even though as I talked about Tristan I felt some strange longing to see him too. What was wrong with me I thought?

Oliver smiled more and then said, "I passed you a couple of times talking with the enigmatic Mr. Dearing, but you were enthralled by him, so you didn't see me."

"Dearing, is that his name?" I was quick to reply. "Is that Liz's name too? What do you mean by enigmatic?"

Oliver seemed to be relieved that I didn't know Tristan's name and nodded.

"Yes the whole family is descended from some ancient knights or something, all Dearings, there's quite a history there. There's some weird stuff too. By enigmatic I just meant he's a bit of a mystery. When James was doing his thesis old man Dearing got to know that he was including the Dearing family history in it. He was incandescent and tried to bribe James to leave out any mention of Tristan or other ancestors called Tristan."

I interrupted here saying, "You're kidding, but why?"

"Well," continued Oliver, "who really knows, because after James had refused since it would seriously put him behind schedule and take huge chunks out of his thesis, the old guy went away, and the next day Tristan himself went to see James and somehow they sorted it out. How about you tell me about yourself Chloe?" He leaned in towards me a little. "I hardly know you, but at the same time I feel as if I've known you forever."

I wasn't expecting this, and I really wanted to ask more questions about James and the thesis issue, but I could feel the pull of attraction between us and it was true of how I felt about him too, it felt good to be around him.

"So what's wrong with your car Oliver? I think dad said something about the cylinder head. What kind of car is it?

Oliver put down his bottle of water and undid his bow tie, leaving it under the collar of his shirt he opened the top two buttons of it sighing and replied.

"It's just an old Land Rover but I like the old thing and until now it's been a perfect runabout. Seriously, years with no trouble at all. That's why I'm fixing it, that and because it's so good for hauling all manner of wires, racks, computer parts, printers and such." He laughed a little at this and I was caught off guard by how very attractive he was when he laughed.

I'd watched his lovely hands as he undid his shirt collar buttons. He had those long fingers that people associate with musicians. His movements were slow, and as the hollow in this part of his lower neck was revealed, I felt myself staring at his slightly tanned skin.

I averted my eyes and said.

"I know what you mean. I miss my old Wrangler, and I'm thinking of asking dad if I can look around for one here." I shivered a little then, as the night was growing quite cold. Oliver saw this.

"I don't have a jacket to put around you," he said, "but you might be warmer sitting closer," and he put his arm out, not quite around my shoulders but as an invitation. I shuffled closer, he put his arm around me, and it felt great. As I leaned in James and Clare walked up to us. They were holding hands. Clare looked beautiful, but then so did James. They made a cool couple.

"Hey you two, James has asked Ben if he'd like a lift home do you need a lift Oliver? We're about to clear everything into the kitchens now." Clare didn't take a breath.

James joined in. "Yes, do you need a lift Oliver?"

I moved a little away from the haven of Oliver's arm and sighing inwardly suggested, "Let's all help with the clearing up, that way it will get done more quickly."

Oliver agreed, and we got up to follow Clare and James back to the tables, which had been almost cleared by Will, Ben, and Jen.

Will was balancing three dishes on top of one another and singing, "I wrote a song, I wrote a song for you," in a very good voice. He had gone ahead into the kitchen when I commented aloud to no one in particular that Will sang very well.

"He's in a band, and he gives piano lessons," Clare informed us, though it seemed the information was chiefly directed at me.

I realized that they must know quite a bit about each other since they had a few days teamwork, and some of them must live quite near to each other. Maybe they had even gone to the same schools. Obviously some of them knew each other quite well, like James, Ben, and Oliver.

I really wanted to speak to James now I knew about the thesis stuff, but that would have to wait until a more suitable time.

Everyone dispersed quickly after that, including Oliver with James and Ben, Clare in her bright blue hatchback, and Liz in a dark, gray, saloon car, which looked expensive and drove away with hardly a sound from the engine.

I joined Mom and Steven who were about to persuade dad to lock up, and drive us home, hardly any distance, but it was cold now.

At home, I made a cup of tea for dad and myself, talking about the evening, and how everything had looked good, and then I drifted up to bed.

Putting my cup on my desk I went to close my open window a little from the chilly night air, and stopped to stare out at the gardens, They were surprisingly well lit by the almost full moon's silver, surreal light. There was the slightest movement of branches in a small shrub below. A fox came out running as if he was up on tiptoe towards the shelter of the woods beyond, his tail streaking out behind him. I love this English wildlife. I'd seen my first real bumble bee recently and fell in love with the large striped creature. It lived up to the name and bumbled about in the flower heads of a massive planter of petunias at the front of the house.

Watching the fox disappear into the wood it suddenly seemed to me that there was someone there at the edge of the trees, a glint of light, some kind of reflection where the moonlight caught some metal. I strained my eyes trying to see, but it was no good it was too dark and anyway who would be out there now at this time of night I reasoned.

I turned away and went to look at the poster, and some of the photographs of Tristan that I had printed out. I looked at the photographs of him, the clothes he was wearing, and the style of half leather and armor. I decided to research this on the internet. If I could find similar clothing, I might be able to put a date to this apparition. I could also check if it was a match with the dates of the stained glass windows. As I was unzipping my dress to take a shower, I found the lens cap in my pocket, which I had totally forgotten about. I walked over placing it on my desk to remember to give it to mom the next day. I shook my head at how I could have lost it. It was not something I needed Tristan to have found at all. I had to admit to myself that he must be suspicious of me knowing his secret. I would be, and I'd be putting two and two together by now. Was he, I wondered? I quickly showered suddenly wanting to be in my bed and sleeping.

Chapter Eight

The next morning I woke to dull gray skies and a mist of fine rain. It was coming onto the window ledge where I had left the window open the night before and I closed it up. Pulling on a sweater and jeans, I padded downstairs. Mom was down there and Steven, who was on his cell phone talking about music. He went to the fridge, and got orange juice out completing his call.

Mom sipped her coffee and looked at me over her cup, "I've started a new project," she said. "So I expect to be busy for the next few weeks. What are your plans? Will you look into going to college when they start their academic year here?"

I know I looked dismayed.

"Mom can I just get settled here before I have to think about college, because you know I've applied to UCLA and yet I want to stay here now. I need time to check all the courses out."

She seemed happy enough with my answer and off she went to her huge study. Steven told me he was being picked up by John, and his brother. They were going to hang out at the rehearsal place John's brother and his band had rented.

I made myself tea, thinking this was good, because I could get on with my snooping about. I more than likely would hardly see mom for days, if not weeks, I grinned to myself.

I put one of the postcards of the waterfall with Tristan in the stained glass window scenes in my back pocket, turned my phone to silent mode, and grabbing a jacket against the now steady drizzle of rain I went off to the greenhouses in the hope of seeing Tristan. I planned to show him the postcard.

As I walked past the drenched garden, I could smell the grass and earth. That special wet smell rain gives to the ground sometimes as summer approaches. It was spring and it had been warm off and on. The last spurt of real warmth coupled with occasional night rain had meant the flowers and tree blossoms were already lush.

I reached the greenhouses, the path was full of puddles, the drizzle was stopping, and I took my hood down, and approached the door to the largest greenhouse. I didn't knock or hesitate I just went straight on in. If I hadn't then I would have lost my courage. The place was big but I knew it was empty of people. There were many plants, lovely colored flowers, all kinds of deep pinks and purples, some white. I thought some of these must be the orchids. There were different sizes of flower heads, some of the flowers I just didn't like, but others were such lovely colors I liked them for that. I walked the length of the greenhouse then turned and walked back the way I had come and out the same door, there was a door at the other end but I really wanted to keep my bearings.

The next greenhouse was a few meters away. I stepped across a big puddle and still got water in my shoes, but it had totally stopped raining now and the air felt warmer. The other greenhouse door was ajar and opening it further, I went in to find the place was heavy with the scent of roses. I walked along intrigued. Now these flowers were lovely and such a range of exquisite colors, some were pale green with antique rose colored or deep rose colored bands at the very top of their petals, it was as if they were about to open their buds. They were so beautiful, but I was stopped from looking at them when a familiar voice asked,

"What are you doing here now?" It was Tristan.

I turned around. He was virtually behind me, and I hadn't heard him approach at all. 'Spooky,' I thought. Then answering as honestly as I could I said, "I came to look for you."

This clearly surprised him on some level because a few expressions passed over his face before he settled into his usual impassive mode. He had looked happy, sad, and slightly surprised.

Now he had that look of tolerance on his face, but he said, "Really and why's that? Do you need a better photograph?" His sarcasm was surprising, he even seemed bitter.

I wanted desperately to either please him or at least befriend him somehow. This was the first time I had seen him in real light. He looked younger than I had first thought, and he looked almost vulnerable here with the roses as a background. His denim shirt was open over a dark blue T-shirt and the usual jeans he wore.

"I came to find you to ask you about the waterfall. I thought you would be the best person to ask, what with being in the garden staff and looking after the grounds and so on." I was almost babbling.

He looked at me with what was intense disquiet.

"What about the waterfall?" His voice was almost a whisper.

"Well...I found a postcard in the museum shop that has a picture of what I'm sure is the waterfall," I began. I wanted to put him at ease. Was he scared?

"I thought I'd do some design work around the theme of waterfalls, rivers maybe, I don't know, but if I want to get into a college here I need to put together a portfolio I think..." I tailed off, was this as transparent to him as it sounded to my ears?

He looked relieved and I thought he must believe me.

I went on. "I read in the museum booklet that there was a legend surrounding the waterfall. I thought you might know it and that it would be great to weave the story through my designs, you know for background. Plus I really need photographs of the waterfall and I hoped you would take me there, just so that you don't find me there almost a trespasser again."

I managed to smile at him, though my heart was beating very fast as I looked at his lovely face and realized I cared very much that I was telling him a lie again.

"I don't know if I can help you with the legend," his voice faltered, and then he sighed. "I will take you to do the photography." He'd put his hands in his jeans pockets, but now he ran a hand through his hair.

This time I really smiled at him. I thanked him and asked if it could be the next day. I decided I really was going to do the design. I would make that not a lie. His relief at my happiness was tangible, and he almost smiled.

"I'd like to photograph some of these roses too," I added, "Because they're incredibly lovely."

He did smile at that and it made me so happy to see him smile. I turned to the white, green, and deep pink roses. "These are just the best roses I've ever seen. Did you grow them?"

The look of pleasure on his face, and his smile at this comment was lovely.

"I did, but I didn't breed this rose or many of them in here. They're special hybrid roses. I get them delivered dormant and grow them from what look like sticks." He walked a few steps down the greenhouse.

"I really like this one at the moment. I kind of have a favorite for a while then another will start to bud and I will fall in love with that one."

He picked up a pot with a rose that had several closed buds, a few half open, and one virtually open. They were the most delicate shade of lemon, cream and off white. I went to him to be nearer the rose.

Our heads were close as we both looked at this lovely thing. I moved my head slightly and could feel his presence. We both knew that if we turned slightly we would be face to face. I had never felt anything so intense. I supposed that this must be what love songs and poetry was about. It was like a spell, just the way they sing about it. Our closeness was spellbinding for a few seconds.

He broke the spell and putting down the rose he turned away, and said in a soft voice, "It's very calming in here."

Looking at me again, he said more normally, "Tomorrow around ten I can drop by the restaurant, if you can be there, then we can go to the waterfall."

It was good to see him without that impassive face, good to be near him and good to hear the warmth in his voice when he said this. I told him that was great I would look forward to it. I meant this sincerely and I know I looked at him longingly. It seemed this look was enough to have him walk towards the door saying he had work to do and would see me tomorrow.

He sort of showed me out the door and I walked into the day as if I had woken from a dream. The rain was completely gone and there was a patch of blue sky up there where the sun was about to peek out from surrounding clouds. I decided to go straight to my desk and do some work, make what I had said to Tristan less of a lie as soon as possible. As I walked along suddenly the sun came out and the whole countryside lit up, all the puddles, the rain on the leaves, the wet tree trunks, and every droplet on blossom shone in the sunlight, it was magical. Just like Tristan.

Chapter Nine

Back in my room, I started drawing. Using the photographs, I drew the waterfall but without Tristan. I began to abstract the waterfall and at the end of three hours, I had a series of designs that were not half bad. I almost felt pleased with them except that I knew I had been motivated by guilt.

I decided a walk would be good for me, picked up my sunglasses as well as a jacket because who knew if it would rain again, and I went downstairs. I detoured into mom's study and told her I was going for a walk.

Outside the air was sultry. I found myself wandering down the path to the edge of the woods where I thought I had seen someone a couple of times. Closer to the wood the path petered out, and became just a trodden but muddy track. I stopped because I didn't want to get too muddy since I didn't have waterproof shoes. I'd already wet my shoes that day, they still hadn't dried properly and my feet felt a bit squelchy. I was peering down through the trees. I don't know what I hoped to see. I did see a small group of deer, which surprised me, and them too apparently, because they looked up from their grazing flicking their ears, and took off together further into the woods. By the largest tree at the beginning of the path was a small clump of beautiful flowers, blue, and bell shaped. As I got closer, I realized they were bluebells and then I noticed larger groups all scattered through the wood as far as I could see. Knowing I could go no further, since I didn't know where I would end up, I turned around and went back the way I had come. I arrived at where the path forked, and one led off to the restaurant as it passed where I lived. Taking this path, I went to the front of the restaurant and sat down at one of the outside tables.

A small group of people sat at one of the tables. This terrace area served as a refreshment 'café' for tourists for a certain period of time each afternoon, and I looked at the menu. It was printed on a peacock shaped card, and slipped slightly under a glass bowl of pansies. I wondered who might come out to take my order. It was Jen, and I asked for a cup of tea. I also asked who was working that day. She told me Oliver and Patricia, and went off to get the tea.

It was Oliver who brought it out, and grinning he put the small pot and jug of hot water down on the table, then the cup and saucer. He had a tiny sugar pot and milk jug to put down and I said, "Don't worry about them I don't use either." He asked me what I was up to and I told him that I'd been drawing for most of the day.

"I get off at six," he informed me. "Do you want to go for a walk through the ruins or grounds and catch up? It looks like it will be a fine evening."

"Oliver, I'd love to," I told him and he went back inside the restaurant. He was out again quickly with a tray of food for the table nearby and he looked across at me smiling a heart-melting smile.

The sun had come out and was hot on my head as I sat there drinking my tea and thinking firstly about Tristan, and then about Oliver. How can it be possible to be so attracted to two guys at the same time? It was simply awful.

It would be an hour before I met with Oliver. Patricia had come out to serve a new group of people. They were talking in French and laughing at each other, and before she went back in, I caught her attention and asked to pay.

Walking down to the lake where the swan boats had been, I noticed a lantern had fallen into the edge of the water and bent to retrieve it. I thought the crew must have missed it when they cleared up on Sunday morning. The water droplets dripping and sparkling in the sunlight reminded me of Tristan and the way he changed when he was touched by the waterfall and pool. Did it happen with any water I wondered, what about rain? Then I realized I was being ridiculous and put the soggy lantern in the next available litter bin. I was tired of my squelchy shoes and decided I had time to go home and change them before I met Oliver.

At home, I found a car I had not seen outside on the big drive as well as mom's Cherokee and the hire car, walking in through the front door I could hear music. In the middle dining room were Steven, the boy he knew from school, John, and two older boys, one of them Will. They were playing guitars. I stayed there watching and listening to them. It was very good music, but suddenly they stopped and fell about laughing. "What's the joke Steven?" I asked.

"Nothing, no it's just that we started playing just messing around, and then we had a tune, which we just put together, with no thought at all right guys?" Steven explained. "It just ended because I suppose collectively we had nowhere to go next and he laughed again.

"But write it down," I said adding, "it was good."

I had noticed Will. "Hello Will, are you part of the band too?"

It turned out that Will was a friend of John's brother, the other older boy. Will was in the band. He and John's brother David were also a duo and played at local events sometimes. They were in the last year at school and only had a couple of months to go.

I told them I was just home to change my shoes and went off upstairs. I put my wet shoes on the windowsill in the full sun, hoping they would start to dry a little more

I walked quickly to the restaurant, because it was nearly six. Oliver came out barely a minute after six. He walked straight up to me as I got up from the low wall was sitting on.

"Are you working tomorrow too?" I asked him.

I was thinking of telling Oliver about meeting Tristan the next day.

"No not during the day," he said with a smile. "I have the evening shift tomorrow. During the day I'm meeting with a potential client, they want a website built and I need to run over my design thoughts with them. It's great." He smiled again his eyes on mine. "I'm so glad you came over here today," he continued. "It's great to see you, and you know we haven't even exchanged cell phone numbers yet?"

"That's true, because we've just been running into each other all the time since you work here, and I live here." I stopped talking, taking my phone from my pocket and flipping it open, "Let's do it."

He told me his number and I texted mine to it, the little ding-dong of the message into his phone assured us of the communication.

We were walking along the edge of the lake and talking about cars. His was out of the garage and I still missed my Wrangler, when with no warning at all it started to pour with rain, just straight down, really heavy, with these massive raindrops. Oliver took my hand and we ran to the side of the path where a small marquee was erected with stacks of chairs and tables inside, all white and with metal lace-work backs. We were laughing as we got inside and both turned to look at the absolute downpour. The raindrops were so big and so heavy they bounced back up from the path and onto the nearest stacks of chairs.

We were a little wet. Oliver put his arm around my shoulders. I moved closer to him and said, "Lucky they left this up on Sunday," holding a side of the roll up door to the marquee.

It was still sunny and the puddles at our feet were shimmering.

Oliver smiled.

"No the crew didn't leave them by mistake, this is part of the wedding stuff that has started being delivered for Saturday," he informed me.

I looked up at him and straight into his brown eyes, suddenly serious we closed the gap between our heads. He put his forehead down to mine nose to nose, and then he kissed me, it was not for long, just enough to make us both shiver.

Pretending I was cold, I moved slightly to zip my jacket. Oliver helped with the last few inches of the zipping, his hand was over mine, and all the time he was looking into my eyes. Then he smiled. The rain had stopped as suddenly as it had started and he took my hand in his, as we walked back out onto the glistening path.

"I hope it doesn't rain for that wedding on Saturday," he said. "It's actually a cousin of Liz that's getting married," he added.

I went cold. "Not Tristan?" I asked in a rush.

"No, it's another cousin. There are heaps of them, but would it have mattered if it was?" He queried standing still and looking at me as if he knew the thought had been heart stopping.

"No, no." I was way too rattled even to my own ears. "It's just that, well he's the only cousin I knew about, I just assumed."

Oliver started walking again and he put his hands in his chino pockets. The tail of his chambray shirt had come out from the back of his pants, which sat low on his slim hips. He seemed thoughtful, then suddenly decided to cheer up. He turned to me put his arm across my shoulders and as we walked along the rest of the lakeside, he was telling me about how his parents were such darlings, and had converted one of the old stable rows for him to have as both a private apartment and an office. As he talked, I realized that his background was quite similar to mine. His dad was a lawyer, his mom an editor with a publishing house. He had a sister, Amy, two years older than him, who was in South America on a gap year, which had become two gap years as she had begun working with an environment group out there. It was okay with his parents because she was actually living with his dad's sister, who had married another journalist (she was one too) and they had been correspondents out there for a while.

I told him I had come across Will, John, and David all jamming in the middle dining room with my brother. I kept wondering how I could work in that I was meeting Tristan tomorrow, but I felt I couldn't not now I had seemed alarmed it might have been him who was getting married.

"Yes Will," Oliver said. "He was a year behind me in school, he is no doubt headed for an illustrious musical career," and then he smiled. "Will is seriously talented, and it sounds like your brother Steven is too," he continued.

I agreed. "Steven loves music and I think does have real talent too. It's not just about practice with him it's almost second nature. He can pick up a tune after just hearing it twice and play it on his guitar or piano."

Completing the path around the lake, we were on the edge of the restaurant garden again and the sun had started to go down.

"I know it's no distance, but let me drop you home," Oliver said, and we turned up the gravel path to go around the back and into the large car park area, which was surrounded by clipped hedge.

Oliver opened the door of his Land Rover for me and I climbed in. Once outside my front door, he leaned across to me, kissed the tip of my nose, then my lips.

"Tomorrow is a really mad day for me," he said. "But I have Thursday morning and I really want to see you again soon, so could I pick you up and we could drive over to Princess Copse village. There's an art exhibition there that I'm sure you'd love. It's part of the district visual art festival."

I was touched by this thoughtfulness and accepted. I nudged his nose with mine, as our faces were still close, and kissed him lightly, sadly aware my intentions of telling him I was meeting with Tristan tomorrow had gone unfulfilled.
Chapter Ten

At home, there was laughter from the kitchen and I went in to find Steven, Will, David, and John all in there. They had made an evening meal from rolls, salads and the cooked chicken that had been in the fridge.

The huge jar of mayonnaise still out, David scooped an extra spoon onto the end of his roll.

"Hello again," I said, taking a roll from the big packet on the work surface, and splitting it to pile some of the sliced chicken, and lettuce in there.

"Hi Chloe, guess what, we're all playing at the wedding reception up at the restaurant on Saturday," Steven said excitedly.

"Wow how's that happened?" I asked.

"Will and David were already going to play, but then their pianist has been double booked by the agency, so after hearing me play, Will asked me to join them. John is going to be there too as bass guitarist. That means we can have a wider repertoire, and so we'll be practicing like mad over the next two days." Finally, he took a breath.

"That's exciting Steven." I grinned at them all. I was pleased for him. He was so excited. I finished my roll and made some tea asking Steven if he had seen mom and did he know what she was doing. He had seen her once, and she was engrossed in her work of course.

I asked the boys if they wanted any tea not expecting them to, but Will had some. I made some for mom so that on my way to my room I could drop it off, and say hi to her.

Knowing I was meeting Tristan the next morning, I considered I might dash out to the retail park in the afternoon and get some shoes, because it was obvious that I needed some.

"Mom I'll take the rental car tomorrow afternoon to do some shopping, is that okay?" I asked, as I set the cup of tea down on her desk at arm's length. She looked at me from her computer and said it was fine, be careful of the 'road sides.' I smiled at this but knew what she meant.

In my room, I looked at my drawings that I'd left on my desk side by side, from representational to abstract. I looked at the posters from the museum shop again and my own photographs that I'd printed out. They were a selection of the ones I took of Tristan at the waterfall. My heart sort of bumped a bit as I studied him.

Turning away, I checked my email and found some from my Californian friends accusing me of forgetting them already. I replied lightheartedly and mentioned meeting Oliver, and how I was drawing, and hoping to get into an art college here.

I didn't mention Tristan. I felt protective of him and his secret, whatever it was.

Then I Googled the abbey as I had planned, but apart from copious hits regarding the ruins, sites which dealt with the dissolution, history of stained glass there was no mention of a legend, nor waterfall. I searched again for legends surrounding waterfalls with the abbey name attached. This time only a page fit the bill and dealt superficially with the fact that there was a legend but that it had been distorted so much with the passage of time that no one really knew what it was any more. The site also stated that it was worth visiting the ruins of the castle anyway on a fine day, the grounds of which contained the waterfall and the small river, which fed it.

'What castle?' I thought, checking that I had the right place and sure enough, it was this abbey's name, and named the nearby large river too. This was puzzling, where was this castle? I was so curious I went downstairs to check if Will was still around and ask if he or the other boys knew about a castle nearby. Surely, locals would be able to tell me. I was disappointed to find the kitchen empty and their car had gone as I looked out onto the drive.

I went back to my room.

I had no name for the castle and was frankly tired now, so I left the search thinking I would ask Tristan all the questions I had the next day. I shut down my computer. There were lots of little bugs flying around in my room which had come in from outside through my open window attracted by the light. They were funny pink bodied, lightweight things I had never seen before. Deciding that there were enough in the room, I went to the window to close it. The light from a downstairs room pooled directly under my window and my room light also helped to light up the immediate garden, but the rest was pitch-black.

I looked up, there was no moon, and it had become overcast. I thought we were probably in for more rain. It still smelled of rain on the night air from the rain we'd received already.

I hadn't watched any TV since I came to England, which was an oddity for me, as I love TV really. I thought I would go downstairs to the small, middle drawing room where we had our only television, and watch something for an hour. It was quite late and I was tired, but for some reason I felt too edgy to sleep.

The middle drawing room has French windows that open onto the same patio as the kitchen doors but further along it. It was still sultry so I opened one side of this door, and a waft of jasmine came in. I turned on the TV and flipped through the channels until I found a program that sufficed to relax me enough for me to get a bottle of water from the fridge, and go up to bed.

Just before I got into bed, knowing I would be unable to sleep without a little fresh air, I turned off my light and went to open my window again. Taking my shoes from the windowsill where I had left them, and putting them on the floor, I stood up to look out for a moment. With no moon, I could see nothing really, but I sensed there was someone out there. I had a torch by my bed. A habit from when some of the tremors we get back home had knocked out the power supply very occasionally, thankfully not often, and I went to get it. It was very powerful and had a white high beam.

At the window, I aimed the powerful beam around. It was surprisingly revealing, like a searchlight. When I aimed at the edge of the wood where I felt I would see someone or thing, I had the tiniest glimpse of movement because as good as my torch was its bright white light failed by then and there was really only yellowish gloom.

What was out there would have gone now anyway with me aiming light around like some idiot. I grinned at myself.

Chapter Eleven

The next morning I raced out of bed and took special care with my hair and dressing, although that didn't extend to not wearing my jeans and sneakers, which had dried in the night. I was late waking probably because I hadn't actually gone to sleep until about two in the morning. So I didn't have long to fret about meeting Tristan. I took the rental car to the restaurant feeling a bit guilty about my carbon footprint since it was so close.

I parked, picked up the camera I had borrowed again from mom that was on the passenger seat, and walked around the front, realizing he hadn't said exactly where he'd be. I went to sit on the low wall and watched the ducks on the lake. I'd been there seconds when he arrived along the path that I usually used.

"Hello," he greeted me. "We have a nice morning, but the place will be wet from all the rain yesterday. You might find those slippery," he nodded down at my sneakers.

I replied, "Okay I'll just have to hang onto you then," and he looked at me strangely, so I grinned to show I was sort of joking, though I wasn't really.

As we walked in what seemed to me to be an awkward silence, I thought how to ask the questions I wanted to ask. I decided that I would wait until we were at the waterfall before I asked the riskiest ones. I thought talking about the cousin and the wedding information Oliver had told me about would be safe.

"It seems the wedding here on Saturday is someone in your family Tristan, a cousin of Liz, so they must be a cousin of yours too," I ventured.

"What, oh yes must be, I mean is. Look I don't know all the family, having been away from the district a lot when I was a child and you know working in Cornwall all those years."

"All those years," I repeated with a question in my voice. "Surely Tristan, you're not old enough to have been gone that many years. You aren't much older than me I would have thought." I said this before I had time to think I might be giving offense or something.

He looked at me quickly before he replied.

"Mmm, I don't know. It seemed a long time and I am older than you." He stopped talking and walked a little quicker with his head down. I hurried to keep pace with him, as he was much taller than I was, and could stride very quickly. He noticed I was almost running and slowed down. "Sorry," he said. "I'm usually alone."

"So there are no other groundskeepers you work with then?"

"Well there are, but we meet up at places, not walk there together usually, and I don't work with them too much really. We all have various areas to look after. We do work together sometimes or with a hired hand too," he said.

"So your area would include the waterfall?" I pressed. "Tristan, do you know if there is a castle nearby too? I was reading on the internet that there is but who knows where? It must be well concealed

"There are only a small amount of ruins left. Mostly it's the mound that remains and it's actually in the grounds of the present Dearing family home," he supplied so easily I thought there could be no mystery to it.

"Oh," I said quietly. "What's the legend of the waterfall?"

I'd decided to come right out with it as we approached the bank. He stopped and looked at me. I didn't know what was in his eyes as he was wearing his sunglasses but I knew he was surprised somehow. We were at the top of the bank, for a whole minute he said nothing. I could hear the falls, birds, my own heartbeat, and I could hear him breathing.

Then he said, "The legend of the waterfall? Well there have been stories saying that it has a secret passageway to another time within it." He smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

"Really," I said, stunned.

"Ridiculous, right?" He spoke softly and started down the bank.

I followed him and answered.

"Right," but I was amazed that he'd come out with this, considering he must have suspected that I'd seen him change in the water of the waterfall pool. This couldn't be the legend it was way too obvious wasn't it? I had more or less asked any question now that I could and so I slid a little, and walked a little, in silence looking at the ground.

We were halfway down the wet bank of ferns and plants, when I did lose my footing. I hate the female character in movies who falls over, and it was the last thing I wanted, but the patch of vague path I was on at that time was so wet the stones gave way and there was no way I could keep my footing. Tristan knew I had slipped and turned around. He stopped me from sliding asking if I was okay. With his arms around me, it was hard not to remember the morning in the greenhouse when I really thought we had bonded and very nearly kissed. It must have reminded him too because he stood there quite still with his arms around me for a few seconds. Then he took my hand to descend the last part of the path.

The camera I had on the strap across my body bumped against my back. I reminded myself we were down here to take photographs of the waterfall as my heart beat a little faster now that he was holding my hand. At the bottom of the bank, he let go of my hand and walked a short distance away. He turned and said, "Well here we are, you can take your photographs."

I did actually take the photographs for real. I knew what I wanted now I had started my drawings. I thought about all the things I would want to recall when next I did some work and only had photographs to help with the process. As I worked silently, I was aware that Tristan was watching me closely.

The light was not too good for a while and then the sun started to force its beams through the thick canopy of leaves. I kept on photographing for a few more minutes and with great effort got Tristan in a few of the last shots. He didn't seem to know because he had begun staring down at the pool of water and not at me.

"Tristan," I asked, "could we take the steps by the side of the falls? I'd like to photograph the river that leads into them at the top. I have no idea where we are really."

He looked up then. Having taken off his sunglasses as we had come down the slippery bank, he hadn't put them back on, and his beautiful eyes were full of sadness. I gazed at him wanting to comfort him somehow, not knowing the source of this sadness.

He came towards me. "They will be slippery," he answered, but he took my hand and we approached the steps nonetheless. Before we started up, I put the camera across my body again so as not to drop it. The steps were extremely steep and I had trouble reaching them with my shorter legs as well as staying on them for they were also very thin where you put your feet. When I think about it, they were very nearly a ladder. If Tristan had not helped me up, I probably would have been on my hands and knees to make sure I didn't fall backwards. We reached the top, and not letting go of my hand we had walked on a few steps before he said, "Right then, safe now."

I realized we were near the bank of a stream maybe twelve yards wide. As I approached the stream, the trees thinned out. I took the camera from over my shoulder, and began a series of photographs. I saw that the stream was fast flowing, deep, and it was much wider than I'd expected.

Then feeling hot, I stopped and turned to Tristan who was leaning on a tree in the shade. "So where are we in relation to the abbey and the restaurant?" I asked.

"We're at the far end of the abbey grounds. We can go back that way. The restaurant is in the opposite direction down there and across the road." He waved his hand vaguely. I walked into the shade and close to him, putting the camera in its case wanting to ask him more questions about himself, but not knowing how.

"Got all the lens caps?" He broke the silence. I looked at him, was this humor? Trying a smile, I said I had and stood there waiting for him to say something else.

"I'd like to see your work when you have some ready. It would be good to see the waterfall from someone else's viewpoint. Will you let me see some?" His enquiry was so polite I could hardly refuse, and I answered that of course I would let him.

"Tristan," I continued, taking a deep breath, "were you washing in the waterfall when I was down there that first time?"

I was still standing close to him and looked into his eyes.

"Is that what you think you saw? He avoided answering.

"I thought so," I answered quickly.

He got his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen.

"I don't have much more time," he said. "Do you want to brave the steps and the hill bank to get home or go via the abbey?"

He moved away from me. I was disappointed by his moving, and his avoidance of the question, but there was nothing to be done.

"Let's just get going by the fastest route to the restaurant," I told him feeling miserable. I wanted to be with him some more.

He moved off and I followed him.

I don't give up easily, and before long I asked, "Will you be at the wedding on Saturday?"

He stopped walking before he answered.

"Yes I have to be really since Liz asked, and it is family after all, although distant cousins again."

"My brother is playing at the reception," I told him, not wanting to go back to silence.

"I may go to see him for a short while, because he's so excited to do it," then I added, "I don't want to gate crash or anything."

"I doubt anyone would see it as that since you are the restaurant owner's daughter, you could be helping out." He sounded more at ease now, and had started to walk by my side instead of in front.

"Maybe I'll see you there," I said with a questioning tone in my voice. I hoped that it would lead to more conversation.

He stopped walking again and turned to me, put a hand under my chin and tilted my face to his. He had kissed me and let go again in seconds, and I was so stunned I just remained there staring at him.

"I'm sorry," Tristan's voice sounded shaky. "I just watched you at the waterfall and I feel very attracted to you, it's not like me. I hope you're not offended or afraid, I mean we are out here alone and..."

I stopped him by stepping forward and taking hold of his arm, shaking my head I said, "No, no, it's okay," and I stopped talking because what else was I going to say. I had no idea, especially since I wanted another kiss to be honest.

"The road is just down there. We cross it and go through the coppice to the back of the restaurant where the car park is." He started to walk again, but this time took my hand.

Trying to make normal conversation I asked, "Do you know any of the wait staff dad has employed, besides Liz of course?"

It occurred to me as I asked, what Liz, who obviously came from a wealthy background was doing waiting tables. As if reading my mind Tristan spoke.

"Liz, yes, she wants to be out in the real world. I know James," he said, adding "and I met Clare the other day through him."

"James Parker?" I asked.

"Yes and now Clare Aubrey too, and I also know Ben because of his family." He looked at me. "You met Ben, Ben Glazer?"

"Yes, I didn't know their surnames. Dad just introduced them by their Christian names, well except James, who introduced himself. I didn't think you'd know so many of them."

It didn't seem rude to say this, but he frowned and replied, "Three's not many and I only just met Clare."

I let go of his hand, instead holding his arm instinctively with both hands. "True," I said.

"Do you have all the pictures you need now, of the waterfall, I mean?" Tristan asked, putting his right hand over my left where I was holding his arm. Despite I was already touching him, my hand on his upper arm, the touch of his bare hand on the back of mine was like an electric shock, and I barely had the breath to answer. Something had been switched on inside me by his kiss and the contact of his skin was intense.

I found the voice to tell him I had as many photographs as I needed at present, then continued, "But I still want photographs of some of your lovely roses, Tristan." Saying his name was somehow special.

At the road now, I took my arm from his. We crossed side-by-side, and he held my hand as we made for the thinly treed coppice. Through it and a gap in the hedge that I hadn't known existed, we were in the car park of the restaurant.

I stopped by mom's rental car, and he let go of my hand. I guessed he thought we'd split up in front of the restaurant. "Tristan, can I drop you anywhere?" I asked him.

"Where are you going?"

I replied smiling. "Through the village and to the retail park before the next town. I have to buy some shoes."

"Well," his tone was measured, "the village would be good right now for me. You should get some boots, maybe," and he nodded at my wet feet.

I opened the door of the car for him. He smiled at this but got in, and I went around to the driver side and started up the engine.

I was happy to have kept him with me for just that bit longer.

"Is this rented?" he asked, looking at the 'no smoking sign' and colored sticker on the front window above the road tax disc.

"Yes, I have no car yet here," I answered. "Do you have one?"

"A car, not really, I just drive anything available on the Dearing estate when I need to," he answered.

The village was reached and the drive had not been long enough for me.

"Anywhere in particular," I asked him. We were by the side of the church, a lovely old church that I looked at every time I passed.

He answered, "This is great thank you," and I stopped to let him out. He got out of the car immediately. I was disappointed he hadn't said anything more than 'bye' as he closed the door and walked into the churchyard.

I drove to the shops.

It took me ages and two massive shops full of shoes to get a pair of elastic sided leather boots, and a pair of slightly heeled shoes, in pearly cream thin fabric, which I thought would be a good addition to my meager shoe collection.

Driving back to the house I had to concentrate hard on being on the correct side of the road as my mind wanted to wander back to Tristan and what I saw as the amazing development between us.

Chapter Twelve

At home that night I just had to upload all the photographs of the waterfall to my computer and print some out. I looked at the ones with Tristan in them for a long time, and in doing that relived the time with him. Tristan was an enigma, the waterfall legend he'd told me about was bizarre, and probably not the real legend, and I was in trouble because I was so attracted to both him and Oliver.

I placed some of the photographs on my desk in a montage that I intended to draw later. Distracted by the sound of more rain outside I went to my window. It was not yet dark, even though the clouds were a thick gray and it looked like the rain might be back for a few days.

I stood there staring out. I was going with Oliver to the art exhibition the next day. Lovely, friendly, tall, blonde Oliver, and sighing with exasperation at myself I was about to turn away to my desk when I noticed someone on the edge of the woods. 'Yes,' I thought, this time I can see them. I moved quickly and instinctively to the side of the window so as not to be seen myself and peeked out to look at the figure. I don't know what I expected, maybe a poacher, if they exist anymore, maybe just someone taking a short cut through our grounds to the small road that led to the turning for the village.

What I saw was Tristan, even at this distance it was obviously him. He had a special way of standing and moving, that sort of gliding he did, and he ran his hand through the top of his hair which I had seen him do several times since I had met him. He was wearing a leather jacket and jeans, but seemed to have boots on that came up his calves. He stopped and leaned on the tree where I had seen that patch of intense blue flowers when I'd walked up that way myself. He was looking down at them. Then he bent and picked one. He was holding it close to his face when he turned and stared straight at my window, well at least this house.

He stood there looking at either my window or the house. For ten minutes at least I stood there too, until one of my feet had gone to sleep, and I thought I would have a crick in my neck from hiding and being so still and tense. Was he going to come down to the house?

I couldn't take it any longer and as the daylight was fading, I quickly hopped and limped to the bedroom door, and down to the small drawing room with the French windows, which would allow me quick access to the path. I could go to him and find out what he was doing. I was outside on the path, and it had started pouring with rain again. The showers had been intermittent but heavy all day. Annoyingly I saw that he was gone from where he'd been standing. The rain was so heavy I went back in the house. Wet through I took a hot shower, put on some cargos and the only thick sweater I had, and began to draw. About midnight I went to bed.

Chapter Thirteen

The next morning I was waiting for Oliver from the minute I woke up. I was determined to talk to him about Tristan, just so it didn't feel like I was sneaking around. I wanted to say I had taken photographs at the waterfall with him.

Oliver was so happy. He beamed at me as soon as I opened the front door, went ahead of me to his Land Rover, and opened the door for me. His mood was infectious. I was beaming back at him, and as we drove away to the art exhibition, I asked,

"Did your business meeting go well is that why you are so happy?"

He laughed, looked at me, and then with his eyes back on the road said, "It went very well, and I was happy about it, but I'm happy to see you Chloe."

It felt good to know this, but I was worried too, this is not what I'm normally like. I don't go out with two guys at once. I don't actually go out with guys at all because I haven't really found anyone I like other than as a friend. I don't lie, not really. This was an alien situation for me, not that it wasn't great to meet not just one, but two gorgeous guys. Even so, to feel so attracted to both of them I couldn't help but feel that it wasn't normal.

Oliver interrupted these thoughts with a cheerful, "I hope you enjoy this exhibition, tell me about your interest in art."

I thought for a moment then replied. I précised what was really a much longer and complicated story.

"Well I always liked colors and drawing, and my grandmother took me to see some exhibitions when I was young. I soon knew that I liked certain art. I would get postcards of my favorites in the gallery shops and then copy them. As I got older I just knew I wanted to design."

"What about you when did you know you wanted to concentrate on IT and Computer work?"

He answered as we turned into the parking lot.

"I can't remember ever doing anything else, from Sonic the hedgehog on I've loved computers, and I can't imagine what it must have been like without the internet for instance."

I smiled at that. I agreed actually. I used computers all the time too, but they were not to be my life.

"This is it," he said, and we got out of the car.

Once inside the venue, which turned out to be an extension of the library not visible from the road, we started by picking up a printed list of the exhibits. It detailed the title of work, artist, and a little information about the artist. Some of the work was for sale, and had a price on there.

Looking at a painting of poppies in a field, Oliver said, "This is sort of nice but I'd like it better if you could see beyond the field, maybe if there was sky. I like sky in pictures."

"That's interesting Oliver," I answered, and we drifted to the next picture which was of a windmill and did have sky in it. "Great colors," I commented. The blue door of the windmill, the assortment of flowers and grass painted in the foreground, and the sky beyond gave the work a special vibrancy.

"Nice sky," said Oliver. We had seen about half the exhibits, most were paintings, when we came to a series of drawings, cats, dogs, goats, all by the same artist done in pencil. Oliver asked me, "What do you think?"

Looking at the expressions on the faces of the animals, I said, "I like the goat." Oliver grinned and said he did too.

The room was divided into two areas by a panel with lithographs on it. I walked around it, intending to look at the lithographs after the exhibits in the second half of the room. Oliver looking around him took my hand. I looked down at our hands, and up at him. His smile was playful. We walked on looking at the work. Oliver, who was holding the print out of information in his other hand, read out snippets of information. He had started to read, but I didn't hear what he said because I was shocked by the next piece of work. There on the wall was a rather large rendition of the biggest piece of stained glass window from the museum, although slightly different, it was complete with the waterfall and on horseback was a knight. The horse was drinking from the pool, and the knight was looking at the waterfall and not out at the viewer so you couldn't see a face. 'Thankfully,' I thought. There were flowers painted around the pool, and it looked like an ornamental gate in a wall that was painted on one side of the pool, not on the bank, but at the edge of the painting to hint that there was a building there if the artist had chosen to let you see it.

"What's this? I stammered to Oliver.

He must have sensed or heard something in my voice because he asked, "Are you okay?" I said I was and looked at the printed card that was mounted to the right of the painting. Oliver still had hold of my hand so he was pulled a little closer to the painting with me.

"The old knight, farewell my old friend," I read aloud.

Oliver said, "Laura Dearing, study of window panel in..." but I didn't wait to hear about the media.

"Laura Dearing, someone in Liz's family?"

Oliver looked quizzically at me. "Laura is Liz's twin sister. Sorry of course you wouldn't know."

"Does it say anything about where the window panel is Oliver?" I made a grab at the printed sheet.

He let go of the paper. "No," he said. "Why what's wrong, you seem upset somehow?"

"I guess you don't know where this window panel is?"

He looked amused. "Yes," he said, "it's in the church on the grounds of the Dearing estate."

I repeated what he had said but managed to add foolishly, "So not in the abbey?"

"No, because that window isn't old, Liz designed it and Ben Glazer's dad, well his company that is. They made the window for her, and put it in the church. It was supposed to be a birthday present for the grandfather he's about ninety two or something ancient."

He put his arm around my shoulder as I had turned to stare at the painting again and said, "I saw it a few times in the workshop when I was helping Ben set up a better computer system and did some networking for him. There are craftsmen in their firm that have had the glass methods handed down for generations, including Ben's dad."

I was intrigued. Here was a new twist to whatever the mystery was surrounding the waterfall and Tristan. There had to be some connection.

Oliver said in a concerned tone, "Could we go and get some coffee, Chloe, and maybe you could tell me what's got you so rattled."

"Sorry Oliver," I replied. "Let's do that."

We went out into the damp but bright air. It was good to be outside. I felt as if I had made a fuss for no good reason. Sitting at a table in a nearby tearoom, I started to explain to Oliver that I had begun design work featuring the waterfall after visiting the abbey museum and seeing some of the broken stained glass windows there. I explained that I need a portfolio to apply to Art College. Then choosing my words carefully, I told him I had asked a groundskeeper to take me to the actual waterfall so that I could take photographs, which would help me with my work.

"And this groundskeeper is Tristan Dearing, is that right?"

Oliver watched me studiously as I answered.

"Well yes, but it's the waterfall that seems to have some mystery to it that I find intriguing." Was I lying again? Not really because that much was true, I had just missed out that Tristan also intrigued me.

Oliver half smiled at me. "You take your work seriously, I like that," he said.

My hands were on the table. I had been folding and unfolding a paper napkin as I talked.

Oliver took my hands in his. "There's not much mystery about the waterfall," he stated. "Having grown up around here and my family has been in the area years, I have never really heard anything about the waterfall. We know it used to have some buildings near it from Norman times. No the mystery you might be alluding to surrounds the Dearing estate, and the Dearing ancestors." Oliver looked intently at me. I think he was trying to gauge what I was feeling. "I think I told you about James and his thesis," he added.

"But you don't know?" I was aware I sounded desperate, but I couldn't help it, although I didn't know why.

He let go of my hands and leaned back in his chair.

"Don't really care Chloe," he said resignedly, and with a little shrug of his shoulders. He was looking at me a little sadly now. I had shown more interest in the Dearing issues than was natural even to my ears.

Taking a hold of myself, I smiled at him. "I enjoyed the exhibition, and I think the windmill is my favorite." I tried to lighten everything up.

I was rewarded with his smile in return and he leaned forward again, his hands on the table. It was my turn to take hold of his hands. I gazed at him because I did like him such a lot and he was so good to look at. His face saved from being boringly beautiful by a slight bump on his straight nose, the light tan on his clear skin, and there was the tiniest scar on his left cheekbone. You just wanted to kiss him if you looked long enough at his lips. I think he must have known I wanted to kiss him because he leaned right over and kissed me, and he put a strand of my hair that had escaped from behind my ear back. I still had my eyes closed from that kiss, and inclined my head to his hand as he fixed my hair. It was a moment of closeness between us that was soothing.

On the way back to my house and for him, the restaurant, since he was going to be working, we talked about Ben. I said, "That's so amazing that Ben's name is Glazer and that's what his family are glazers."

Oliver nodded. "Maybe," he said adding, "but I guess it's like someone called Baker or Cartwright. Long ago the families were bakers or cart makers, as I said Ben's family have a long history of being glazers."

"Oliver," I continued, "I don't know your surname, nor Will's. Dad only introduced you all by your Christian names."

"Mine is Tarrant, Will's is Radford," Oliver informed me.

"Okay," I said, thinking, 'Oliver Tarrant.'

At the restaurant Oliver parked around the back near where Tristan and I had walked through the gap in the hedge from the coppice.

Before we got out, I turned to him and thanked him for taking me to the exhibition. He clicked his fingers as he looked at me and said, "You know what might help you with the history side of your work, James, his final year thesis on local history. There's a copy in the local library as well as the university library, I just remembered."

Then he got out of the Land Rover, and so did I. I was thinking, excellent I don't have to go quizzing James and drawing attention to the whole issue again. Also how nice was Oliver that he would say this?

As we walked around to the restaurant with his arm around my waist Oliver nudged the side of my face with his and kissed my cheek. "Please call me tomorrow when you can, will you? Promise?" he asked.

I said I would call him for sure. We parted, he into the door which led through that corridor of shelves into the back of the kitchens, me to the path that led around the lake and on through the gardens to my house.

I had lots to think about. There were so many new pieces of information in the puzzle that surrounded Tristan, and I had not forgotten the fact that he had stood watching my house from the edge of the woods, on at least three occasions, to my knowledge and who knows if there were more.

Chapter Fourteen

It was early afternoon, the sun had decided to come out, weak, watery, it had lost its earlier warmth, and the breeze whilst not cold had a smell of coldness in it. Spring seemed to have disappeared, and I took a long sleeved T-shirt out of my cupboard and walked over to my desk, slipping it on over the one I was already wearing. Intending to take my warmer jacket too from the back of my chair, I noticed crushed flowers on the rug there. Looking closer, there were just enough petals left for me to identify them as bluebells. I looked around as if I was going to find someone in the room, but I knew there was no one.

Then I scanned my desk and all the photographs, and drawings I had left around thinking they were safe. No one normally came into my room, not without invitation anyway. I'd left the more bizarre ones of Tristan on the bottom of the stack anyway, so you would have had to rifle through them to find anything, who would do that? Someone who stood around in patches of bluebells and was so unused to snooping about in people's rooms they left traces of themselves on the carpet. It had to be Tristan, and he must have seen that I'd photographed him in the radiance of the water drops that revealed him as something other than just a normal young man.

I'd been going to find him anyway, so I picked up the photograph of him, which showed his secret identity, and putting it in the back pocket of my jeans I found the postcard still there too. I folded them together, pulling on my jacket as I walked out of my room and down the stairs. There was another question I wanted answered and that was how he'd entered the house let alone my room.

I expected him to be in the greenhouses but he wasn't. I decided to check if he was at the waterfall. Then on the way there, I changed my mind, headed home and taking the rental car drove back into the Princess Copse village and the art exhibition. I wanted either the painting of the new church window, or an image of it. 'Maybe they were selling postcards' I smiled to myself.

Inside there were more people than earlier when Oliver and I had been there. I went quickly to where the painting had been, and it was still there. Looking around for an attendant or someone who would sell things that were for sale at these events, I spotted a table set up in the far corner.

Seated at the table were two women dressed in similar clothes, flowery dresses and cardigans, one with glasses on a beaded chain around her neck, the other writing on a pad on the table in front of her. There were also extra copies of that sheet of information about the exhibits, a stack of envelopes and folders on the table.

I approached them.

"Hello, I'd like to find someone to sell me the painting by Laura Dearing, could you tell me who might do that."

It turned out that they could, and after checking the price of it on a list they produced from one of the folders, told me that I could pay for it in the library where they had an 'EFT' machine, or could take cash. The one with glasses took a sticker with 'Sold' printed on it and went over to the painting to stick it on the wall card near the painting. I gave my name, address, and phone number to the remaining attendant and she informed me that I could have possession of the artwork after the exhibition had closed the next week. I walked around to the library to pay holding the receipt and a painting identification number I'd been given.

A hundred and eighty five pounds and they took VISA.

I went back into the exhibition and up to the painting. I was hoping to take a photo of it with my phone. Since I owned it now no one could object surely. Just as I was about to take the picture I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder.

"Excuse me, that's my work you are stealing." The voice was refined, and rather high-pitched.

I turned towards it and saw for a moment what I thought was Liz, but the eyes were different. Instead of the hazel of Liz's eyes expertly surrounded by blue eye makeup, was a pair of black eyes, looking at me with unmistakable hostility.

"I just wanted a photograph because..." but I didn't have chance to finish because she continued to accuse me stridently of theft.

"You decided to steal my intellectual property. You're American aren't you? I bet it will be all over the internet by tomorrow morning. Just stop right now," and she gave a swipe at my phone to try and take it.

I pulled my arm away and pocketed my phone. 'What a b****' I thought, and how could she just make those assumptions? I took a step backwards away from her flailing arms thinking, 'god she's a psycho.'

Around the side of the lithograph stand came Liz and said, "Laura stop it. I know Chloe, she's an artist herself."

"All the more reason to be careful then," was the petulant cut in from Laura.

"No Laura, I know Chloe, her dad has Peacocks now, and I can tell you she wouldn't be stealing your work."

"No," I joined in. "In fact I've just bought it, and was taking a photo because I'm doing a study about waterfalls for a portfolio to get into Art College. I bought this because it's lovely. There would be no way I just stole your work, my study is abstracted to design from waterfalls anyway, and surely this is a representational painting of a stained glass window isn't it?" I questioned her.

She wasn't happy, not that I had bought her work, and not that I was some kind of art oriented person myself. More than likely, she was unhappy that I was American as well, weirdo.

Liz said, "Sorry Chloe her art is so dear to Laura's heart that I'm surprised she has any up for sale at all." She smiled at both of us. I could hardly be anything other than gracious to Liz, but I felt like giving her sister a surreptitious thump as she passed me, and leaned in close to her painting as if inspecting it for any damage I may have done.

"I'm willing to withdraw my offer to buy it if you feel you want to keep it Laura," I said.

"No, I want rid of it actually," she shrilled over her shoulder, and Liz made a face at me, which almost had me laughing aloud, but I contained myself.

"I need to get home," I said to them both, but looking at Liz. "Maybe I'll see you around the restaurant."

"Oh hello Chloe," a familiar voice behind me said. I spun around to see Tristan, his hair as usual tousled, a jean jacket on with the chinos I had seen him wear at the garden party. He looked great.

"Liz, Laura," he said. "Are you ready to go? Your dad said to get you back for the bridesmaid dress fittings as soon as possible. He charged me with this especially since the last two times one or the other of you just hasn't shown up. Caroline and Douglas have arrived, and your dad's brother." He was talking to Liz really.

Laura had turned around, and was on her way towards him saying,

"We're coming now Tristan. I just had to talk with Chloe. She's bought my painting, you know the old knight one." It was a statement more than a question and she clearly expected him to know what she was talking about.

He looked over her head to the painting on the wall that she had indicated as if he hadn't realized the picture was there before.

In a second he had looked at Liz with that look again that they had both shared when Liz found out I'd met him at the waterfall.

"You bought that Chloe?" he said.

"Yes," I replied, well what else was I going to say? He looked slightly pained, but then as Laura had gone off towards the exit, and Liz was turning to do the same, saying that she would see me later, he just sort of nodded at me and went after them.

'Was that all weird enough?' I thought to myself as I went out to the rental car, after having photographed the painting with my phone in safety.

On the way home, I saw a car in a local car sales yard. It was parked out the front, with the cost on the windscreen, four thousand and ninety nine pounds, not quite my Wrangler but sort of similar. It was a small four-wheel drive called a 'Jimny,' silver and in good condition. I stopped and looked around it for a couple of minutes when the sales person came out.

"I can get you a test drive in it now, if you would like," he told me, "it's ready for a quick sale, twelve months warranty."

I had a test drive in it with him chattering on in the passenger seat next to me, trying to sell it to me. I told him I wanted to get my mom back to see it maybe tomorrow afternoon and asked would that be okay. It would, so I drove off home.

Mom was in the kitchen when I arrived and I sat down next to her to tell her about the exhibition, and then the four-wheel drive. She was interested in the fact that I had started work for an art college application more than listening to me go on about a car. I left out all the details about Tristan and only mentioned Oliver in passing. Let's face it the less anyone knew the better.

I considered the flower residue in my room as I made a sandwich and washed some cherries for tea. I was thinking, could it have been me who brought in the crushed flower stems, but no, I would have known because I'd been conscious of trying to dry out my shoes for the last week. Then again, would someone like him, who obviously loved flowers, trample a patch of bluebells? Not by choice probably, and maybe he just caught one or two on the edge of the path.

If it had been him snooping about, he knew now that I had seen him as the knight or prince character. I really wanted to see him and talk to him properly. I decided to walk over to see dad and ask if I could help at the wedding reception. This would be the only way I could be there legitimately, and with any luck at all, I could run into Tristan.

The sun had come out and the evening was the best part of the day. I was wandering along the path. This time there was the promise of summer in the air. The birds were still up and singing. The view as I came over the rise to walk down to the restaurant was nothing but lush green broken by white blossom, some on the trees, some on the plants growing in the hedgerows. A bee buzzed by me as I came up to the ornamental gardens and settled on the flowers that had blossomed since I last came past.

I went in the back of the kitchens down the corridor of shelves to the staff room. Dad was just coming out of his office, which was lucky, as I hadn't wanted to interrupt him doing anything too important.

"Chloe, I've just been talking to mom on the phone, she says you've been looking for a car, well I think we'll get one for you soon." He was really grinning and I wondered what else he and mom had been talking about.

"Wow, thanks Dad." I was pleased. Once you've had your own wheels you can't go back, it's like an independence thing. "Dad, I was thinking, since Liz will not be able to work Saturday could I help out in any way? I'd love to really if you can think of anything," I almost pleaded.

He was still grinning. "You can, as long as you wear the uniform. You need to call the supplier with your measurements ASAP. The number is on my desk actually, since I just finished talking with them as your mom called. I need all the wait staff I can get at the wedding reception. Report to Marcel at two thirty for four when the guests arrive. That's both my kids working Saturday for me." Then he kissed me on the cheek as he passed into the kitchens.

"Thanks Dad," I called after him and went into his office. The number for the uniform was on the top of a page of sizing information against each person's name. I called and talked with them. They could fit me out easily.

It was becoming dark, and I walked quickly home.

In my room, I looked first out of the window to check if anyone was at the edge of the wood, there was no one, and then I went to my desk. I booted my laptop, and transferred the photo of the painting I had just bought from my phone. I looked at the painting alongside my photographs of the waterfall, and the scans of the postcards featuring the stained glass window. Laura's painting was different in reality. I wanted to see the window in the church that Oliver had told me about. It was as if she had painted something incomplete. There were some complicated things going on here I thought. Then I laughed aloud, complicated was an understatement, 'I mean what is Tristan?' I thought, and 'who else knows what he is?'

Chapter Fifteen

Friday dawned as if it was a midsummer's day, warm, dry, and bright. The day was promising to be hot. I went to the restaurant with dad and picked up my uniform for Saturday. Then I went to the car yard with mom. She thought I could do better than the car I had seen. She's good with cars, and hasn't ever bought a dud. Dad leaves this stuff to her all the time. I told her I hadn't looked at anything more expensive on purpose. Let's think about it, she'd said. That was okay. I knew she'd get me a car soon.

We went on to the stores and stocked up on fruit and salad stuff.

I wanted to go down to the waterfall. It was such a great day I thought the track would be drier, and maybe I could get closer to the waterfall to check out if there's a way behind it. I took mom's camera. I might need an excuse to be there.

It didn't take me long to get there. I knew the way now. The afternoon sun was hot, and I was almost glad to be in the shade of the trees at the pool. I looked around me, wondering where the water went to next. The outlet from the pool must be underground. The pool wasn't stagnant, and there was movement in it but no stream flowing from it.

I struggled through the thick vegetation to the side of the pool where I had seen Tristan appear in his knight clothes.

I looked around there. Where had Tristan come gliding from the other time I had seen him, the last really hot day when he had splashed water on his face.

There was no real path, but there were a few bent ferns, and branches of small trees that were shaped inwards, as if they were used to being brushed past. I walked carefully along this track. It seemed to wind around the back of the steep hill that held the waterfall. This seemed a physical impossibility, but the geographical features in this area are odd. I'd read a little about them in the hope of improving my sense of direction. Lots of the features were glacial, and some were under water around a thousand years ago, with the hills as islands in large lakes. Maybe this area of weird hills and steep dips was like that.

I came to ruins, which were almost a castle wall built into the natural rock face that was suddenly there. I could look down into a small courtyard. It was all ruins, and there was a wall with an ancient door in it, that must have been Norman, it looked so old from where I was standing. It didn't lead anywhere because the walls on either side were ruined and birds were nesting in some of them. I could see from where I was standing that there was more forest and vegetation beyond the walls and that the door, whilst closed and intact, couldn't lead anywhere. I thought this must be part of the ruined castle I'd read about. I didn't realize that I had strayed into the private area of the Dearing estate. These ups and downs of the landscape were tricky. If I kept going, would I get to the church? It was worth a try.

I walked on round the ruins. There was no way through them because of the rock face. I passed the back of the door in the wall, it was very old, and I was surprised it was still there open to the elements as it was, didn't wood rot? Maybe it had spent hundreds of years actually inside and was only recently exposed I decided. Maybe Liz knew some of the answers to my questions. She knew something because of the looks that passed between her and Tristan.

The sun was still warm. There were less and less trees as I continued and the shade I had enjoyed went with them. I found myself in a little clearing, brambly hedges on one side, a willow tree, and a whole bank of holly trees defined it, there to my excitement was what appeared to be a church.

There was an ornamental porch with a wooden gate that had come loose from its post signifying the entrance to the place. The paved path had bits missing and ivy grew in their place. I went up to the doors and tried the very large carved handles on each side. I had entered a small porch with a triangular shaped roof. The door was locked and I went back out of this porch and walked around the side of the church. It had walls that seemed older than the porch around this side and in the wall about halfway up was a stained glass window. It was large and rectangular and had three main panels. They were modern in design, and I thought these must be what Oliver had told me about yesterday. There was the panel that Laura had painted and alongside it a panel that featured the waterfall and gardens. The last panel was difficult to see and I realized that it was covered with some kind of netting as if it was being restored. You needed to be on the inside to see what they looked like because from this side they seemed dull and reversed like in a mirror.

I heard a crunching and turned towards the sound. Someone was coming along the path behind the church. Should I run back the way I had come? No, it was too late really and whoever it was rounded the corner of the building. I found myself staring at Tristan.

He looked astounded at my presence. He stopped frozen, staring at me.

I sighed.

"Sorry Tristan," I said. "I just had to come and find the window Laura had represented in her painting."

He raised his eyebrows, he sighed too, and then he said, "And did you? Find the window that is?"

"I think so, it's up there for all to see," and I pointed at the windows.

"Okay," was all he said and turned as if to go back the way he'd come.

I called, "Tristan, don't leave yet."

Turning back towards me, he walked quickly and was in front of me saying,

"Chloe, did you come past the ruins which way did you come?"

"Yes past the ruins, why?"

"Because there are so many ways to get injured around here, the ruins are crumbling, the pool is so deep..." but he stopped talking, and looked into my eyes intently with his lovely navy blue ones darkening. I expected him to finish what he was saying, but he didn't, he swallowed and stepped away silent.

I took my chance.

"Tristan, I have to ask you, have you been in my house, in my room?"

"Yes I have," he said, just like that.

My turn to be astounded, I had expected a denial.

"I had to know how much you knew about me. I saw the photographs you'd taken of me. I saw the drawings of the waterfall, and the posters and postcards of the museum stained glass windows. You just have everything covered now don't you, since you saw Laura's painting and found your way here. Tell me did you enjoy the lie, getting me to take you to the waterfall and pretending you were photographing the water for an art college portfolio?" His voice was bitter. "You'd just set out to get more pictures of me hadn't you after you saw the museum panels?"

"No, no," I said putting my hands out to him, taking hold of his arms. "It wasn't like that. I'm just intrigued by you and by the fact that no one else has ever noticed that it's you in the museum stained glass windows."

He looked at me and just for a few seconds there was a tender look in his eyes.

"It's not easy to see Chloe, you're special, it must be your artist's eye, or..." He stopped talking.

He sighed looking down at the mixture of leaves, twigs, and ivy we were standing on, then when he looked back at me the expression of sadness on his face was too much for me. I moved forward to put my arms around his waist hugging him, my head on his chest, he put his arms around me, and we just stood there for a whole minute.

I could hear his heartbeat. He was real then.

"Tristan," I stood back a little, but kept my hands on his chest, holding his jacket. "Tristan, why do you appear in those medieval looking clothes whenever the waterfall and pool water touches you?" I asked softly.

His answer was barely audible. "I will tell you, I will, but not just yet. It's a long story. Just give me time to make sure of some things first, please?"

"Yes of course," I answered.

His eyes were dark. "Chloe, you must not let anyone know about me. I try so hard to appear just an ordinary person. It's been hard over the years to keep learning new ways." He stopped talking again.

'Over the years' I thought, looking at his eyes full of pain, sadness, and something else now, which took me a few seconds to identify, it was hope.

"I promise you I will not tell anyone. Why would I?" Our heads were close, and I desperately wanted to reassure him. He held my face and very slowly put his lips to mine and I kissed him back gently. There was something very significant about that kiss it seemed to me we were marking a beginning, but the beginning of what?

"Let me walk back with you. It's getting late, and soon the sun will start to go down. It will be good to walk with you, and I need to visit the waterfall today anyway." He took my hand and put it on his arm. It seemed like a gesture from the past. I smiled, but said nothing.

We reached the door in the ruined Norman walls, and skirted it. He kept his head turned away from me, and it seemed as if he wouldn't answer any questions even if I asked them. At the waterfall, he let go of my hand. He held out his hands into the water, cupping them and then splashing the water on his face. Up close, I wanted to reach out and touch the leather and armor he was suddenly wearing. What would happen if I did? I was about to, when he turned. The fur on his shoulders, the studded leather disappeared and there he was again with his tousled mid brown hair and navy blue eyes just as if the transformation had never happened. "Is it magic?" I asked him.

"Something is," he replied enigmatically.

I couldn't help but ask, "Do you have to touch the water every day?"

He smiled wryly. "Not every day." He didn't elaborate and I didn't ask. He walked with me to the top path. He was going to leave me there to walk the rest of the way alone. I remembered to ask him what he was doing watching the house sometimes.

He faltered, and then said, "Just because I feel drawn to you. I wanted to be near to where you are, and to know you're safe."

This prompted me to say, "But why wouldn't I be Tristan?

He looked uncomfortable and shook his head. I thought he was going to tell me something, and then he seemed to change his mind.

"It's okay," he said. "It's more like I just want to be near you. That hasn't happened to me in a very long time." He looked unhappy and yet he smiled saying, "How do you feel about me? I mean you kissed me and I thought..." He didn't finish instead he turned back down the path. "I have to go," he said.

It was nothing but weird the whole thing and I looked after him as he disappeared from view. It was hardly any distance home, and was lit by path lights and fairy lights that were on some of the trees and bushes to show off the flowers.

I was walking into the driveway of our house when I heard a car engine behind me. It was Oliver in his Land Rover.

Stopping at the curb, he put down his window. "Chloe," he called, as I was heading for him. "You didn't call me, you said you would."

I thought 'oh my god, that's true,' I had forgotten to call Oliver, what was I thinking? I liked Oliver. His friendly normality was good to be around.

"I was so busy, Oliver. I was just about to call you. Come in the house. Let's get something to eat. Have you just finished work or are you on the way?"

"Finished and okay I'll park."

He parked the Land Rover just inside the drive. I waited for him and we walked down to the front door. Oliver put his arm around my shoulders, and whilst it felt good, I was conflicted because hadn't I just come from an intense encounter with Tristan. I was thinking maybe it was friendship I felt for Oliver when as I opened the door, he bent his head to mine and kissed my cheek. "It's good to see you Chloe," he said.

I thought he was going to move his kiss to my lips, but was saved from avoiding that by Steven whooping down the hall.

"Hey you guys, we're rehearsing in the grounds of the restaurant in ten minutes, come," and he dashed out the door just as Will and John pulled up in their car. Waving as he got in, I waved back and asked Oliver if he wanted to go and see them, it might be fun.

"Thought you were hungry, but yes okay it could be fun," he answered.

I told him I was hungry and suggested we make something to take with us. Which we did, roast beef sandwiches and orange juice, not gourmet but quite nice in the near darkness with a lovely guy and a very cool band.

Oliver and I stayed for their whole set and when they started all over again having tweaked something on their soundboards, we wandered up towards the lake and the low wall surrounding the bottom half of the immediate restaurant garden.

"I'm helping out at the wedding tomorrow, Oliver. I hope the uniform I ordered arrived," I informed him.

"Great, I'm working too. Did your dad draft you in since Liz will be a guest at the wedding?" he asked.

"Well I just volunteered because I like to help out if I can, even though I really have no interest in the restaurant as a career." This was true, but I left out the part about Tristan, which was not as urgent as it had been now I'd seen him.

As I thought this, I realized I'd not actually asked Tristan how he'd got in the house. I must do that.

The moon was out and the sky had cleared completely. It looked as if the fine weather was going to be back for a few days. Oliver took my hand and we walked back the way we had come. Steven and John were coming along the path. They were going to lock some of the equipment for the band in the restaurant at the back so that not all the gear would have to be transported there again tomorrow. I said, 'see you later' to Steven.' Will was dropping him home. Oliver and I walked back to the house.

Oliver was telling me about the website he was building for the company he had met with on Wednesday. When he asked about my work for my portfolio, I was unsure what to say because I was thinking about not continuing with my waterfall theme since the episode with Laura Dearing. I told him that characteristically I was unsure now if I was happy with my work so far, and I might change the subject matter. Oliver laughed teasing, "Ah...the artistic temperament."

We reached the door and he faced me putting his arms around my waist.

"I'm so glad your dad bought Peacocks, and brought you with him of course," and he smiled as he said it. Then he kissed me softly and quickly. "Have to go, Chloe. I need to do a bit more work on that website since I'm on a deadline there," and he was turning away.

"See you tomorrow, Oliver," I said, and I watched him get into his Land Rover and drive off.

Inside the house, I went down to Mom's study and asked her how she was going with her work. We talked for a while and then I went up to my room. The day had been a long one. It was bizarre to have been so close to Tristan and his mystery, and then to have watched my brother and the others in the band with Oliver. Two different days in one really.

Tristan was a mystery. He seemed to have been able to put on a completely different character when he'd been in the gallery with Laura and Liz. No one would have suspected there was anything more to him than a cousin sent on an errand by their dad. Liz knew something I was sure of that, but maybe Laura wasn't in on the secret. It was straight out of fantasyland the whole thing.

I was at my desk looking at my work. I didn't want to give it up just because of Laura's unpleasantness. I didn't want to give up Tristan, and I didn't want to give up Oliver, but it was a mess.

Chapter Sixteen

Saturday dawned like a perfect day, the sun blazed out of the sky straight into my window, but I soon realized that wasn't what had wakened me. There was a lot of noise coming from somewhere, revving and engine noise. I realized it was coming from the front of the house. My corner window was open and that's why I could hear it so well. 'Strange,' I thought, pulling on my jeans and a T- shirt, 'I don't remember opening that corner window,' the wind howled into it with rain on the one occasion I had tried it.

I forgot this though as I went down the stairs and along the hall to the open front door and the sound of my mother's voice. There was a truck just leaving the front drive, long and low at the back, but I wasn't interested in looking at it as I noticed my own much loved Wrangler to the left of Mom's Cherokee.

"Hurray, my Wrangler," I called and I rushed to mom. Steven had the keys and dangled them in front of me. I hugged mom. "Thanks, that's why you didn't want to get the other car. This is great, why didn't you tell me? We could have saved the time. This is great, thanks so much. Did dad know it was coming too, he did huh?" I said in a big rush grinning the whole time.

Mom was grinning too and Steven said, "Now you can drop me at the restaurant just for an excuse to drive it immediately, Chloe," and he threw me the keys. I caught them and ran around to the driver's side, but then I stopped.

"Yikes, I hope I can drive on the correct side of the road now."

Mom laughed. "You will, take care, and anyway the restaurant is about two meters away." She turned back to the house, saying, "See you later I need coffee."

Steven and I arrived at the restaurant laughing and carrying on like two much younger kids.

"Things are working out here, Chloe, aren't they?" Steven stated rather than asked. I agreed that they were, way better than I'd expected, and we grinned again at each other as he got out and waited for me before we went around to the back door.

I was going to collect the uniform I was wearing later that day. Down the little shelved corridor, I could hear dad and Marcel laughing about something, and then Patrick joined in too.

Stephen and I got into the staff room area still grinning. It's amazing what regaining something you love and thought you had lost can do for your spirits. I was happy.

We all said hello to each other, and dad said, "I see your car has arrived sweetheart," and I beamed.

"Yes thanks so much, it's outside now. Steven wanted to get in early."

Dad laughed. "John and Will are actually down at the band area, Steven. You guys are really keen this is definitely early."

Looking at me he said, "Chloe, you can pick up your uniform, it's been delivered here."

The phone in the office rang and Patrick went to answer it, he came out after a few seconds and said, "Sorry Nick, the fish supplier is on the phone about the order." Dad frowned and went into the office.

I went to the row of uniforms on the hanging rail that I'd noticed in the corner. Looking through them, I saw my name on the label of a garment bag and took it. Steven had gone down to join Will and the others. I thought they would be tired by the time the guests arrived at four, but then maybe they just intended having a rehearsal and coming back to our house for a break. I hadn't asked Steven.

I waved a goodbye to everyone and kissed the top of dad's head as he sat at the desk talking to his supplier. He acknowledged the kiss with a smile as I went back into the staff area and out to the little shelved corridor.

I put the uniform on my passenger seat and thought about taking the Wrangler for a celebratory spin, but instead I went home to check the uniform. What if it didn't fit? I had nothing suitable to wear in its place and didn't want to let my dad down by looking unprofessional.

In my room, I hurried in the shower, and then tried the uniform. It was a trouser suit, in stiff very dark blue, cotton. The jacket was fitted with a scoop neck, and turned back cuffs on the three quarter sleeves showing pale blue silk. The trousers had cigarette style legs and were a good fit. I was surprised by the whole outfit as I stood in front of the mirror. Having no dark shoes except the boots I had just bought I put on the pearly shoes with the slight heel and checked what they looked like. The trousers covered the top of my foot, and the whole effect made me look taller. I decided to go and show mom just to be sure. Downstairs in the kitchen she was reading the paper and eating raisin toast. I twirled in front of her as she said, "That's amazingly flattering for a uniform."

"Do you think the shoes are okay?" I asked.

"I think they look great Chloe," mom replied.

I went to hang the outfit up not wanting to spoil it in any way.

Putting my jeans and a shirt on I decided to do some research about the Dearing family.

I found that the family could trace ancestry back to the third crusades, and that in itself was awesome, but it stated that one of these ancient knights had fought with Richard the Lionheart himself.

The estate had dwindled over the years however and was a shadow of its former self. It seemed they only now survived in this part of the country by being the conference, events and gardening business they were. Bit by bit they seemed to have had to sell off much of their lands and although I thought their land seemed to stretch for miles, it was only a third of what it used to be.

Perversely I typed Tarrant into the search engine and discovered that Oliver's name had ancient origins too. I didn't read much thinking there was no mystery surrounding Oliver and I closed my browser.

I would clean the Wrangler, that would be comforting and fill in a little of the day before I went to help dad. I didn't know what I expected at the wedding and I had confronted Tristan already to no real end, because he had avoided telling me much about himself. Then again, I had told him that was okay.

It would do me good to clean my Wrangler it would be Zen.

I put my iPod earphones in and set about cleaning. It was good to listen to my favorite music and clean my car. I could almost believe I was back in California as the sun was warm and the breeze was gentle. That reminded me I needed to answer some emails too today before I went to the restaurant.

Later I drove into the car park of the restaurant and parked as far over to the side as I could since I was sure the guests at the wedding would need lots of spaces. I was in my uniform and walked into the restaurant. It was a hive of activity. From the big picture windows, I could see marquees with pink and white stripes. The swan boats were back on the lake. Flowers were everywhere in tubs and on the backs of chairs as garlands and on the sides of the swan boats. The whole place had been transformed this morning into a fairyland of pink and white lanterns, lights, and flowers.

Dad had left me a name badge at the office and it had a little colored peacock motif on it, which was cute.

"Hello gorgeous," Oliver said, as he strolled past with a crate of glasses and headed down to one of the marquees.

I just looked at him with a smile.

I reported to Marcel and was in the thick of the preparations in no time, and when the first guests arrived, the place started humming with enjoyment. We were too busy to talk much to each other, but Oliver and I would give each other looks as we passed. I managed a conversation with Clare as we filled more ice buckets asking her how she and James were going. Very well, she had told me, and said she could see Oliver and I was an item too. She had caught the way we looked at one another. I was slightly worried by this but I didn't know why.

As I took more mineral water to the main marquee, I saw Liz and Laura looking swish in their violet, shot silk dresses, with flower garlands on their heads. The bride Caroline was a very tall willowy blonde girl, and the bridegroom equally tall but dark haired.

I was scanning the place for Tristan and finally caught sight of him talking with an older man in dinner dress. It was good to set eyes on him.

I enjoyed being part of the work and said so to dad when we started to clear up a little as the guests quit some of the main marquees for the dance area and the band started playing their main set. The evening wore on. In small groups, the staff had a short break in the staff area of the restaurant. I was with Ben, Patricia, and two agency staff when Liz came in.

"Hello," she said. "It's been such a great evening, and you have all worked so hard. It's still in full swing out there. Will and the others in the band are so good."

"I know. I saw them rehearse last night. I was impressed. My brother is in his element now," I replied.

She smiled. "Chloe, can I talk to you alone?" she said more quietly and I got up walking with her to the patio areas. "I just wanted to apologize for Laura's behavior the other day in the gallery. She can be such a nasty person sometimes and is so precious about her art. I don't know where she is coming from sometimes. It was pretty awful the way she spoke to you."

I looked at her pretty, elfin face so serious and told her it didn't matter. I had forgotten already, and was looking forward to having the painting when the exhibition had finished. We walked together down the path and she joined a group of people. It included the old man I'd first met with Tristan. I rehearsed in my mind what I might say to Liz about Tristan, thinking how I could ask questions about him, but we were too close to the group of people.

"Daddy," she said, addressing the man in the dinner suit I had earlier seen with Tristan. "This is Chloe, my friend and Mr. McGarry's daughter. She's actually filling in for me tonight by waiting here at the reception."

I looked at him and smiling held out my hand, which he took and giving it a hearty shake, said, "Hello Chloe, pleased to meet you, how are you finding England, a bit different from California?" He laughed.

I told him it was and yet I had started to love what bit of England I had seen so far, and the people I had met were so nice. I gave a quick look at Liz to make sure she realized I included her in that.

Liz quickly said, "Chloe, I don't think I introduced you to my grandfather when he was at the garden party with Tristan." Looking at the much older man she continued, "Grandfather this is my friend Chloe," to me she said, "Chloe, my grandfather." I guess this was our second introduction, but as you know in the first one we were not even looking at each other.

I smiled and shook the old guy's hand, which felt bony, but he smiled and I noticed he had hazel eyes like Liz.

"Hello my dear, keeping you busy are they?" he asked.

I realized he was referring to my obvious status as wait staff and laughed a little as I said, "Up until now, but I should get back to it."

I excused myself and went off up the path past the little group of Camellia bushes aiming to return to the kitchens and find my next task, but stopped still when I heard Tristan's voice.

He was saying in a patient but tired tone, "Please Laura you know I do care for you as a cousin, but I just can't go beyond that. I don't want to hurt you. Please don't be offended or hurt, but I don't think of you like that."

She must have been approaching him romantically I thought, that's the only explanation for that speech, and I worried then because of what had passed between Tristan and myself, and because Laura already didn't like me.

I hurried on because I just didn't want to be listening nor caught listening, nor did I want to get involved in anything to do with Laura, if I could help it.

As I reached the corner of the patios, Oliver came along the paved area, carrying an empty crate and large dishtowel draped on it. He came right up to me, and leaning very close whispered, "Chloe, Come with me and clear up some glasses. I need your company."

How could I say no? I walked by his side to the nearest marquee where there was no one left at any of the small tables. Glasses as well as other crockery and a few bottles were still waiting to be cleared. Inside he started putting the glasses carefully end to end on the dish towel inside the crate so that the flutes of the glasses did not smash together, then when I brought some over he took them from my hands.

As our hands touched, we looked at each other and it was just impossible not to kiss. Aware of the place we were in and that we were doing a job, we pulled apart quite quickly, Oliver laughing a little and looking around. I looked around too and we both laughed again. It was always fun when I was with Oliver, not like the intensity of being around Tristan, despite the odd feeling I had that I was somehow connected with Tristan in a very significant way.

We walked back with the collected glasses and other items. I have to admit that I was beginning to feel tired. Marcel met us and told us that there was a crew coming in at eleven thirty to deal with the major part of the cleanup.

The bride and groom, Caroline and Douglas, had already left and the guests were dwindling away. Marcel said to take a break. Coffee was being served down at the main marquee by Patricia, Jen, and Peter for the guests that were left and that was more or less it as far as the Dearings had indicated their needs to be.

The band was still playing. We could hear a melody coming across the gardens. Oliver and I sat on the low wall facing the lake. Sighing he put his head on my shoulder.

"I'm tired, are you?" he asked. He slid down a little, stretching his legs out, he crossed them at the ankles, folded his arms comfortably on his chest with his head on my shoulder. We would have seemed like we knew each other very well, if anyone had been looking. I inclined my head onto the top of his and we sat there sort of balancing each other and looking out at the fairy lights and pinkish shimmer on the lake from all the lanterns strung around. The boats were moored at one end and not many people were around.

Oliver broke the silence. "What are you up to tomorrow Chloe?" he asked.

I had to admit that I hadn't really thought about what I was going to do and said so.

"I told your dad I would work the dinner service," he informed me. Then gaining energy from somewhere he said, "Let's go down to the band." He stood and pulled me up by my hands.

We were walking along hand in hand when Tristan came striding up the path as if escaping something or someone. I couldn't let go of Oliver's hand just because Tristan was there, and as it happened he simply inclined his head towards us both in a polite old world way, and continued striding on, but it upset me in ways I couldn't understand.

The night was strangely wrong after that and no it wasn't because Tristan had seen me holding hands with Oliver it was because Tristan had clearly been distressed and I was unable to help him. Would he have stopped when he saw me if I had been alone? Where was he going? I didn't know the answer to either question.

Oliver and I went to the band area and they played a couple of soft numbers that pleased the few remaining guests who were dancing close together in couples. We stood away from the marquee hand in hand. Oliver may have realized something had changed my mood slightly, I don't know, but we were back at the kitchens finishing anything Marcel wanted doing quite quickly.

I had my own car so Oliver couldn't drop me, and we were saying goodbye in the car park in no time at all. I drove home listening to a cute song that came on the radio, which somehow described how I was feeling. We had made no plans to see each other and I was both relieved and disappointed. What was wrong with me I thought?

I wanted to have time to be with Tristan and sort out whatever the situation was between us. I also wanted to be with Oliver. His great smile, sense of humor, comfortable friendliness, and the way we had just gelled was magnetic.

I stood at my window for a while just staring out at the darkness and the few stars I could see. If there was anyone out there at the edge of the wood I couldn't see them and I didn't have the heart to care right then.

Chapter Seventeen

It was with surprise that I answered my cell phone the next morning at ten, to hear Oliver. "Chloe, how about taking me down to that waterfall of yours this morning? I need the fresh air. I haven't been down there for years and since it's such a source of fascination for you, well I thought I would like to see it again."

Then before I had replied he said, "You know let it weave its magic on me." I had a shiver down my back when he said that.

I said, "Hi Oliver, sure I'd like a little walk too. I intended working most of today on my design work, so that would be a good break. Do you want to come here and we could walk from the house?"

"I'll do that Chloe, see you." Oliver sounded cheerful.

He arrived only half an hour later and I had put away my photos and stuff that showed the image of Tristan, just in case Oliver asked to see my work. I still owed Tristan his secret.

We scrambled down to the waterfall after walking over the garden to the top path. We talked about California. Oliver had asked did I miss it.

"I don't really Oliver. I thought I would miss it lots, but a just get a twinge now and then when I think of a certain time there or place."

Down near the waterfall, we just stopped still and looked at it.

"You know," he started saying, "it's kind of odd that you've taken such an interest in this waterfall. It's not that big really. Do you just like all water perhaps? Maybe you're missing the sea. I can take you to some excellent coastal areas if you like." He was gentle and his usual smile was missing. I was touched by his concern and about to tell him how kind he was.

Then my cell phone rang. I got it out of the back pocket of my jeans where I had stuffed it on the way out of the house. It was mom asking if Oliver would like to have lunch with us after our walk. 'Yikes' I thought 'that's the second time my cell has echoed around this waterfall area.' I hadn't noticed the postcard of the stained glass window with the image of Tristan on it flutter down onto the ferns as I'd taken out my cell phone. I'd forgotten that it was in the back pocket of my jeans, and it must have just been pulled out with my cell phone.

When I turned to Oliver to ask him about lunch he had the card in his hand. He was turning it over to read the back where it detailed what was on the postcard, and then turned it back to the picture, he answered.

"That would be nice, Chloe, say thanks to your mom."

Then, as I put my phone back in my pocket, I checked that the photo of Tristan was still there and hadn't also come out with my phone. Oliver looked at me with a slight frown.

"This knight on the stained glass, he looks just like Tristan, have you noticed that, funny huh?"

I felt very strange. I didn't really know what to say. Tristan had said few people noticed, and here was Oliver noticing.

I had to tell Oliver I'd noticed it looked like Tristan too. I couldn't lie so blatantly to him, and I was thinking there must be something special about Oliver if he could see Tristan there in the glass. That's what Tristan had said to me hadn't he? I was special that's why I'd noticed him.

I said, "I thought that too when I saw the stained glass, but surely Oliver you've seen that stained glass before, been to the abbey museum?"

"No, can you believe? I never went into the museum I've wandered around the abbey ruins, but well I live here, I didn't bother going into the tourist shop, the museum," he stopped talking, looking at me. It must have been written on my face because he said,

"There's something to this, isn't there?"

I told him there was but I didn't know what, not really.

"Is this why you're so interested in the waterfall Chloe, because unless I'm mistaken this is in the stained glass picture too?" he asked, gesturing at the waterfall with the postcard.

"Only partly. I did find inspiration for my design in it," I answered.

He handed me the postcard with a little frown.

I folded it back into my jeans pocket thankful that the photo hadn't come out with it.

As we walked home for lunch, I told him about the designs I had done. I told him that I had been back to the exhibition we had visited, and bought the Laura Dearing painting. I kept away from all the things I'd talked about with Tristan. I told him how Laura had been horrible at the gallery and he found that amusing.

We reached home and Oliver turned to me at the door before we went in holding my shoulders.

"There's more to all this Chloe. I can see it in your eyes and if you want to talk about it or need help, you only need say," and he gave me a look that was reassuring and loving. I nodded because I couldn't speak for some reason and we went inside the house to the big, homely kitchen, where mom had started serving lunch to Steven and John.

This ordinary stuff, Steven and John's exuberance about their music, mom talking with Oliver about computer software and her new project, Oliver talking about his fledging IT business all helped to dissipate the worry I felt about the whole Tristan issue.

All the same, when Oliver had left and I was up in my room looking at my designs and the photographs, and I started to feel I had to find out what was really going on. Having booted my laptop I Googled Tristan Dearing not really expecting anything to come up but there were a few hits. I took the photo and postcard out of my jeans pocket and put them on the bottom of my pile of stuff on the desk as the search engine worked.

There was that Dearing mentioned in connection with Richard the Lionheart. A monk had written some histories of a crusade and mentioned Knights named Dearing, one of whom was called Tristan. There wasn't much said by the writer on this website, it was more about the crusades in general.

The other two hits were about an estate in Cornwall that had been the subject of legends around the time of the crusades. The local clergy had accused Tristan Dearing the Knight and owner of the estate at that time of sorcery, but nothing seemed to have come of these accusations. This website was more about the history of Cornwall including legends of King Arthur than anything else. As little as it was this information gave me something to think about. Could it be the same Tristan Dearing? 'No how could it,' I thought, but then I thought, 'it's odd that he has spent time on a Dearing estate in Cornwall.' He told me that himself. I decided I really had to ask him.

Instinctively I went to my window where I had looked across to the edge of the wood and seen Tristan. I looked then and to my surprise, he was there. I was spooked by this, but I opened the window wider and leaning out waved at him trying to get him to come closer to the house or at least to stay where he was, so that if I dashed out to him he wouldn't have disappeared when I got there. He was looking at me. It was mid-afternoon, so what was he doing there? I ran downstairs and to the middle drawing room windows, fumbling around with the catch, I looked up to see that he had started down the path towards the garden.

I got out there myself and walked quickly towards him.

"Tristan," I began, "I'm so pleased to see you I was just thinking about you and wanting to talk with you."

"Hello Chloe."

I looked at him.

"I really need you to tell me more about yourself because Oliver saw you too. He saw you in the stained glass window. I accidentally dropped a postcard from the museum and he picked it up. He recognized you. Well he said it was uncanny that the knight in the window looked just like you. Tristan didn't you say it was special to be able to see you?" I hardly took a breath.

Tristan did, he took a deep breath. He looked sad as he replied, "I did say that and if Oliver can see me in the stained glass that's amazing."

I looked at him waiting. He sighed. It was as if he didn't know what else to say.

"Maybe it's because of you Chloe," he finally said.

I didn't know what to reply to that. I just looked at him.

"I saw you both at the wedding. I can see he really likes you and it looked as if the feeling was mutual from where I was standing."

He was obviously hurt.

"Tristan, I do like Oliver, we were just having fun. It was a hectic night. Where were you going when we passed you?"

"Not that it's anything to do with you," he said, running his hand through the top of his hair, "but I was going to tell your father and his staff that we were more or less all about to leave, and give him my Uncle's thanks."

He seemed angry with me.

"I'm sorry if that seemed like prying. The reason I asked is because you seemed distressed when we passed you. It worried me for the rest of the night that I hadn't stopped that I didn't know what was wrong." I was trying to get back the feeling of closeness that we had shared before. Partly because I really wanted it and partly because I had to have some answers.

I realized then that maybe he didn't owe me any answers, even if I'd told people about the change he underwent in the water of the waterfall, he could have laughed it off, said I was seeing things. It was so fantastic any way that people might think I was a bit odd, crazy, whatever. Why had he told me anything at all? I felt sad and maybe it showed.

His angry attitude had suddenly gone and he just looked very sad.

"Chloe, let's go for a walk and I'll tell you a few things. There must be a reason you noticed it was me in the stained glass, just as there must be a reason Oliver did too, but I don't know what the reason is, not really, not yet," he said softly.

We started to walk slowly back up the garden path.

I couldn't help myself I took his hand to soften my questioning and asked, "Why did Liz's father try to get James to delete all mention of you from his thesis?"

"What?" he said, stopping and looking intently at me, "did James tell you that? Have you read the dissertation?"

"No, not James, because somehow I haven't had the time to ask James, and I keep coming to you and hoping we can talk seriously together instead of me Googling you and guessing," I replied.

He looked horrified. "You Googled me? What did you find?"

"That you lived in the time of the Crusades and was accused of sorcery." I just blurted it out to his gradually whitening face.

This seemed like almost too much for Tristan, he stopped and looking around for somewhere to sit, finding nowhere but the grass he said with his eyes closed.

"Could we go inside to sit and talk for a while? This is getting more complex by the minute." He looked towards the house where the French doors were still swinging open.

I nodded and took his hand and we walked in silence to the house. A huge bumble bee flew slowly in front of us to a flowering shrub, the gravel crunched slightly under Tristan's boots, the breeze was warm, and a black bird with a yellow beak suddenly flew out from beneath the hedge, startled no doubt by our approach. It was as if time was slowed down, until we got into the room.

I asked Tristan if he would like some water and we went through to the kitchen and got some. "We should go up to my room," I told him, watching him take a drink from the cold bottle I had given him. "Because then no one will be able to hear what we say."

"Yes," he said, and taking some keys from his pocket, he walked towards that door that leads to stairs going straight to my bathroom. I looked at him, the door was locked down here and at my bathroom, but he had keys.

"You have keys?" I gasped.

He looked down at his hand as if realizing he had done something automatically and it was not the right thing to have done.

"Sorry, sorry, I do. I have keys to the whole house, sorry. I don't use them, well only once," his voice was low.

"And that would be when you went into my room to look at the photographs I had of the waterfall right?" I stated a little alarmed. He just stood there looking uncomfortable.

"Why do you have keys to this house Tristan?" I'd thought dad bought this house along with the restaurant, but maybe I was wrong.

Tristan's voice was almost a whisper.

"Because this is my house," he said simply.

Surprised, but determined I held his hand and took my normal route to my room down the corridor and up the two flights of stairs. In my room, he said he was sorry again. I went to the door in my bathroom and checked it was locked.

I said, "I thought you had somehow climbed through that corner window, since it was open and I hadn't opened it, but you have keys to the whole house." I knew I sounded derisive, but I just couldn't get my head around it, then I asked, "What do you mean this is your house?"

He looked at my desk chair. "May I sit down Chloe?" he asked in his polite way. I noticed how pale he looked and how overwhelmed he seemed.

My heart went out to him, and I told him yes of course and almost pressed him down onto the chair. I pulled along my stool that usually was by my bed acting as a stand for my netbook, and placed myself almost in front of him.

"I opened the window to make you think I had come in that way. I have never used the keys only that once. This is my house, your dad didn't buy it, he's renting it, and he said he wanted to see how you all settled before he actually bought a place. The 'Dearing Trust' would appear as the owner so he may not know it's actually mine."

He took a drink of his water.

"I'm not the Tristan Dearing accused of sorcery that was my uncle. I was named after him, although the idea of sorcery did stem from something that happened to me."

"Your uncle," I was incredulous, he hadn't said ancestor, "but he lived a thousand years ago."

Tristan sighed. "About that," he said.

"Were you alive at the same time as him?" It was my turn to almost whisper.

He took my hands then, and looking straight into my eyes with his lovely blue eyes wide, he said softly,

"Yes, I was. I'll tell you my story, but it's not the complete story, there are things I still don't know, nor fully understand." He smiled slightly, but sadly.

"Liz knows, her father and grandfather know. It's a secret kept between only three family members at any one time. It's been a huge juggling act down the years and sometimes incredibly stressful, it just gets harder too. I want you to know not just because you saw me in the stained glass window, but because I feel a strong connection to you," and he looked down then at our hands still clasped together. I waited for him to continue.

He began to speak as if painting a picture with words.

"It's 1189, in what we now know as the third crusade my father a knight and good friend of Richard the Lionheart, goes to fight, he takes his eldest son, my older brother, with him.

I fell ill whilst he was away. The doctors of the time thought I was going to die, and he was summoned home. I didn't die. I rallied once he was home. He stayed home because it was almost Christmas. I found out he had commissioned a stained glass window for the abbey, which featured me because he'd thought I would die. A horrible thing happened. My brother who was still in the Holy Land was killed in battle even though he had sworn to our father he would come home, he stayed and continued to fight, only to die."

At this Tristan gave a big sigh and I let go of his hand and dragged my stool around to be next to him. Putting my arm around his shoulder and holding one of his hands I told him it was okay, he didn't need to go on if it was too sad, but he did go on.

"It's the day before Christmas, and my father and his brothers and their sons, my cousins, are out hunting, I am with them. We always cross the river at a particular place where the ice is known to be thickest, but for some reason the ice has not thickened as usual. I was the last to cross as we chased deer. I veered too far towards the waterfall side of the river. The ice broke under me, and I fell into the freezing water." He took a breath then continued.

"The ice formed over me. Somehow, my horse has scrambled to the bank, I could see its flailing hooves but I was trapped, and then the waterfall has sucked me down on the inside. I remember the intense cold. It was as if I had stopped breathing. I couldn't move. I saw a blinding flash of sunlight and then nothing. I think I passed out."

I was shocked by this.

I said almost tearfully, "Oh my god, Tristan, how terrifying, but here you are," and I put my head against his. He turned his face to me then and I could see he had relived it all.

"I'm here yes. I know that my father, uncles and cousins searched for me. They thought I was drowned and gone for good, and my father was heartbroken according to what I've been told. He went back to the crusades about two weeks later and was killed in the capture of Acre and before the truce with Ṣalāḥ al-Dīn, Saladin to you probably."

He seemed to hesitate as if he was thinking before he continued,

"But Chloe, I didn't die in the waterfall. It's 1190 a few weeks after Christmas, into the New Year, and there is a sudden thaw as heavy rain sweeps this part of England. I must have been frozen because I thawed out, and I was gushed into the pool at the bottom of the waterfall. I woke up and I was falling, but then my clothes caught on some holly branches that used to stick out from the Norman walls of a path and steps, up the bank by the waterfall. They're still there. Liz's grandfather had them restored. You know we went up them. I used the holly to drag myself onto the bank. My numerous cuts from the holly healed as I walked dripping wet to my home, the castle at the time. I was received by my father's brothers who were still there, one of whom is the Tristan you read about on the internet, my uncle Tristan. Fearing people would be afraid and believe me to be a witch, or some other evil thing, my uncle Tristan took me to one of his estates in Cornwall where no one knew what had happened. I don't think they tried to contact my father to tell him, if they did, he couldn't have got the letter. I lived there off and on in Cornwall for my uncle's lifetime, but there were periodic problems because I never aged and there was a time when he was accused of sorcery because of me. I heal from wounds. I'm never sick. I don't know how he got around that problem, more than likely bribery, since many of the clergy at the time were corrupt. After he died, I went from one to another Dearing estate, always pretending to be a new cousin or nephew or whatever visiting from somewhere. Only a few people were allowed to know about me. I've had such a strange life, and done so much, but it's been a lonely life in many ways. It's been a very long time since I felt anything like I feel for you," he stopped, and looked at me instead of staring down as he had been.

I was stunned by the story, but knew there must be more to it and I said so.

"Tristan, there must be more to your story. How did you become, well immortal I guess is the word? Was it just the frozen river and waterfall, have you ever found out?"

He looked at me and sighed. "There is more Chloe. I found out some stuff from James, it's so bizarre."

I almost laughed when he said that, how could it get any more bizarre. I was to find that it could.

Tristan began, "Did James tell you that his grandfather had done some archaeological digs at the abbey?" I nodded my answer and he continued.

"Well the notes that James's grandfather took about the dig revealed that there was a manuscript besides other items that went missing when the finds were about to be taken to the University department for investigation. His grandfather had already been translating the document and making notes. Maybe you don't know but he's one of the best when it comes to reading Old English manuscripts. Perversely this document was written in Old English when the written language of the time was Norman French or Latin. That in itself is weird. Well he realized that this manuscript was one of two or even three documents. He let James in on the notes he had because of James doing his final dissertation on local history. I understand from James that he will talk about the Abbey dig but not about the manuscript. When I went to see James because already Liz's father had been to him to make sure he wouldn't include the Dearing history in his thesis. James told me some things about what was in the manuscript. He told me he didn't think he would use any of it because it was so fantastic that it might jeopardize the academic quality of his work. He also asked why shouldn't include the Dearings. We were major protagonists in the local history, that it was an imposition to ask him to rework his massive thesis at such a late date too. I asked James if he would just not include me."

Tristan's face was pale and he was a little shaky. I still had an arm around his shoulders and was holding one of his hands, and I started to rub his shoulders like you do to comfort someone and he smiled a sad little smile before going on.

"James was surprised, but became thoughtful and then he told me what his grandfather had said was in this mysterious and stolen manuscript. It was an account of how a stained glass window had been made by the Glassier family, that's Glazer now. It told of the window being made to save the life of the youngest son of Sir Edmund Dearing, Chloe, that's my father. It told of how he had obtained a spell from the Magi, not once but twice to save both my brother and me. My brother was killed in the Holy Land so who knows what happened with that spell, but according to this manuscript the spell worked for me because as soon as the stained glass was made I recovered from my fever illness."

He stopped then looking at me almost for assurance he added, "When I fell in the frozen river the spell must have still been active and that's why I'm still alive, I'm guessing."

I just sat there looking at him for a minute maybe more. We just sat there together until I questioned, "I wonder why the manuscript was stolen, is that all it said?"

"Chloe, 'is that all it said', that's a fantastic story already but no James said that the Glazers had been sworn to secrecy along with my father's brother, my uncle Tristan. The secret is that if the stained glass window with my image in it is ever destroyed then I will die. There's more too, but James's grandfather said he hadn't translated the entire document just looked it over ready to translate formally just before it was stolen. He said it contained something about the youngest son Tristan coming back to life again as well as that this Tristan went with his uncle to live in Cornwall, and that part we know is true because it's me." Finishing his sentence with a sigh Tristan stood, and started to walk up and down my room.

"Chloe, James took my name out of his thesis because he guessed that the Tristan who kept turning up in history across the Dearing estates was the same person and not different people with the name just handed down like you have in some families. He asked me was I that Tristan, was that why I wanted my name removed as a current Tristan Dearing. I tried to tell him some idiotic story about the press hounding us, and Liz being upset because at the time, Liz was seeing James. He knew the truth though. I could see it in his face. I was that Tristan. He told me my secret was safe with him that his grandfather had told him other stories over the years, strange and weird things existed in this world. 'We don't know the half of it, and if you want an academic career you better watch what you let others know you believe,' he said were his grandfather's words."

Tristan went to the window and stared out. I walked over, and stood next to him. He gazed out at the edge of the woods from where he normally watched. I smiled a little at that and he put his arm around my shoulders.

"Liz knows about me, her father, and grandfather, though recently he's talking about one of Liz's uncles maybe being sworn into the secret because he expects to die. Liz and her father Jack had another stained glass image of me made. That's what is covered up in the church. It's kind of insurance against the abbey windows being destroyed because we might not be able to hold on to the estate here financially forever. It's already hard, hence the business side being built up in recent years."

Turning to look at me instead of out the window, he said,

"Sometimes Chloe, I wonder why the family keeps up the burden of saving me from destruction. I asked once many years ago. A descendant of one of my father's brothers had the shared task of guarding my identity and the remains of the stained glass windows. He said, 'because it's the right thing to do and one day Tristan you may be able to help the world in some way, and because we love you'."

I was thinking that loving him was easy to do given his manners, his lovely way of speaking, his beautiful eyes, when it occurred to me.

"Tristan, if it's the stained glass that keeps you alive why do you visit the waterfall and wash in the water, and why do you appear as you would have looked when you drowned as the water touches you?"

He seemed to be tired of talking but he answered, "I go there so as not to grow tired of living. When I touch this water, I remember the freezing cold of the icy water, and how I was trapped beneath the ice. It reminds me that life is precious. I didn't know for the longest time that the waterfall showed me as I looked when I drowned. It was Liz who told me, as a little girl, maybe five years old. We were out walking because she had this lovely dog, they had taken him on when his owner died, well, she still has him he's old now."

Tristan smiled ruefully as he added, "Like me," and then continued, "I was her older, distant cousin come to stay. We were all out walking and the dog went down the bank to the waterfall pool. She was scared he would get lost. She scrambled down after him before any of us could do anything. I went down the bank after her. The dog had gone right around the pool to the edge of the waterfall. He looked like he was going to fall in snuffling around in the ferns right at the edge of the pool. I ran up to him and grabbed him, but the bank was not as solid as it is now and my foot went into the edge. I had a leg knee deep in water before I knew it, and I must have changed because Liz was standing there at the other side of the pool just completely still, looking at me. I had the dog under one arm and pulled myself out of the pool with a hand full of those giant ferns. When I took the dog to Liz, she said 'Tristan I didn't know you were magic', and told me that 'she liked my hair long like it was when I was magic.' I was frankly amazed and told her it must have been the waterfall playing tricks on her eyes, that I wasn't magic. Even as a child she must have had enormous integrity, because she said 'not to worry it could be our secret.' That night I told her father and we went down to the pool a few days later to test out what had happened. Sure enough, Jack saw me as I was around eight hundred and some years ago. I had been visiting that waterfall on and off all those years and no one had seen me can you believe that, or if they had no one had said anything. Since then I know myself. I can see my gloves as I bring the water to my face, but before Liz telling me, I didn't see them. Odd huh? Then there's the stained glass, no one to my knowledge has recognized me in that either," he paused, "except for you Chloe."

"And now Oliver," I added.

"Yes now Oliver, but you didn't confirm it was me did you?" he asked.

I shook my head. I hadn't confirmed it. He continued his story.

"Liz's father Jack and I decided then that we would try and keep people away from the waterfall and the pool area, and I was supposed to be vigilant about either not going down there, or at least being careful no one was around when I was down there. Jack would be disappointed or maybe even furious, and so would Liz, if they knew about this," he looked especially vulnerable when he said that.

I know it might not have been good timing but I reached up and put my hand alongside his cheek, in a kind of gesture of comfort and yes, love, I admit. He turned his face and kissed the palm of my hand, and then putting his hands on either side of my face gently holding me, he kissed me. I guessed the timing of my gesture wasn't that off.

It was obvious he felt something serious for me and I had to accept I did for him too, but I felt torn because as much as I felt for Tristan, I felt something close to it for Oliver.

"I know there's more to the whole story and this business of the manuscript being stolen. Then there's the other documents not yet found according to James's Grandfather." Tristan let me go and he walked to my desk, and turned to me.

"One day it's all going to come together somehow. Please don't let anyone know anything. I know I can trust you. I just had to say that," he added, seeing my face, which must have told him I wouldn't tell anyone.

"Does Ben Glazer know, Tristan, and did you ever admit to James that you were the original youngest son?" I asked.

He was leaning against my desk.

"I think James knows, but I didn't tell him outright, and he's never mentioned it again. I don't see him as much as I did when he and Liz was an item. Ben Glazer doesn't know. The family did make the newest stained glass, but Liz had them use me as a model for the main young knight character in the panel. It meant that my image was there but no one knew the real reason why. We think that the Glazers lost the knowledge about my father and the spell and so on somewhere in history, I mean let's face it, that's a long time between then and now."

I said in a low voice, "Yes, it is."

It was an understatement and suddenly we both laughed.

It kind of lightened the mood a little and Tristan said,

"I'll take you to see the church windows properly next week. Laura will be out of the way because she's going to an Art summer school for five weeks in France. She doesn't know anything, what I mean is, she's not one of the three family members sworn into the secret about me. Not likely to be either and all I can say is that it's a good job Liz is the eldest by thirty-five minutes. They are so different. Well, you probably realized that from the brush you had with her in the gallery. The exhibition finishes next week too so you should get the painting you bought."

I was looking at him thinking he's just switched into a normal guy as if he hasn't been alive for eight hundred years and something years, as if he hasn't just told me the most fantastic story I ever heard, maybe that's how he's coped all these years.

He realized I was watching him intently and said, "What?"

I responded with, "But surely she would be able to keep a secret like that about a family member?"

Tristan took a deep breath. "I'm not sure. Sadly she can be really horrible, and I'm trying to avoid her at the moment anyway," and then he stopped talking as if he had said too much.

I thought he must have been alluding to the conversation I overheard at the wedding and decided to tell him I'd accidentally heard it. I thought it might help in the long run.

"On the evening of the wedding I was walking by the camellia hedging when I accidentally heard you talking with her. It seemed like she has a crush on you. I'm sorry I overheard I didn't hang around."

Watching his face, I saw relief.

"She says that she's in love with me and always has been. She says I will realize I love her too, that when she is in France I will suddenly find I miss her. It's difficult to try to tell her it's not going to happen, because she's so convinced it will. I don't know why." He shrugged and half smiling finished his sentence. "It's a relief to tell someone. It's worried me because I've never given her cause to think I'm in love with her. I've made my intention clear to her as kindly as possible."

"Well it will be good to see the newest, stained glass, Tristan Dearing insurance policy in this church," and smiled at him.

"I should go now," he answered. "I really have some work to do in the greenhouses. This estate doesn't run itself."

I laughed at that.

We walked downstairs and along to the middle drawing room. Then Tristan turned to me just as we reached the French windows, and he hugged me.

"It's given me strength talking with you, Chloe, I know I have Jack and Liz but somehow it's not the same, it's like, well, someone else outside the family knows and accepts me, I feel, I feel not so alone now you're around."

I hugged him back and he went out of the doors. I watched him walk up the path and into the woods. He turned at the edge of the woods and just looked at me for a few seconds. When he had disappeared into the trees I wandered into the kitchen, and I was surprised to see how late it was. I sat down at the table and let the day's events play over in my head.

It felt dreamlike. There was such a lot I still wanted to know. If I was linked with Tristan and with Oliver as it appeared I was, then why? Was it only about attraction? I couldn't believe it was, but at the same time, I had to say to myself if it was just that, if I was almost in love with Oliver and with Tristan too, and maybe they with me, then wasn't love a worthy cause?

I decided I had to sort out my feelings for each of them. I thought about it all for a further half an hour during which I made a hot drink, then let it go cold as I wandered around unloading the dishwasher and putting dishes away. Then I just sat there gazing into space. I still couldn't say if I cared for Tristan or for Oliver more, or even differently. This wasn't what I expected. You're supposed only to love one person at a time aren't you? Consoling myself with the thought that maybe it would work itself out, I went up to my room.

Chapter Eighteen

The next morning there was mail on the mat. I picked it up to put on the hall table but when I turned it over there was a letter for me. I was surprised and opened the square, yellow envelope on the way into the kitchen. It was a white card with yellow ducklings walking along to form the word 'Party.' Written inside it was an invitation to Clare Aubrey's birthday party the following Friday evening at the Kool Kafé.

This was nice. I hardly knew her and she was inviting me to her party, and it was great because I wanted to make friends with her. I missed my girlfriends in California. I thought I would go up to the restaurant and see if she was working the afternoon café service. It would be nice to reply in person even though there was a cell phone number on the invitation.

Walking up to the restaurant the air was already very warm. It seemed summer was here. There were birds singing high in the sky and swooping into the field by the next lane. I passed a big spider's web on the bushes where I had heard Tristan and Laura. It was empty apart from some small residual dew, when the sun hit it in just a few minutes that would evaporate. I thought about getting a photo with my cell. The web had lovely aesthetic quality and I was thinking of changing the theme of my portfolio completely to avoid any scrutiny of the waterfall.

Maybe other areas of nature may be better, like that web for instance and the lovely effect I had noticed the breeze had on the growing crop that was in a farmer's field nearby. It looked just like it was green water, but it was the wind creating that effect; rippling just like water.

I was at the back door to the little corridor of shelves, which led into the staff room area of the restaurant and I could hear singing. As I entered the room, I saw it was Will. His red hair held back in a blue spotted headband, tall and willowy, he could have been a fashion model with his angular bone structure, but he was most definitely a musician. When he saw me he stopped singing and bowed, smiling as I applauded.

"I'm looking for Clare," I told him.

"She's not here yet, but any time now I expect," he said, as he picked up a tray of cutlery and went into the dining area. I sat down at the table with my cell in front of me. I was spinning it around when I noticed it had the icons on the screen that meant I had missed a call and had a message, how had that happened? Maybe it was earlier when I was downstairs and it was still in my room. I hadn't looked at the screen just put the phone in my back pocket.

Oliver had called and left the message, 'please call me I'm going away for a week or so and would like to see you first.'

I thought, 'Oh no, lovely Oliver gone for a week or more, where to?'

Clare and James came down the corridor just then hand in hand. They looked happy.

"Hi Clare, I came to say thank you for the invitation to your birthday party and accept. Is your birthday exactly on the day or are you celebrating on another day?" I asked.

"It's actually on that Friday," she replied smiling. "It's great that you can come. Everyone here is invited and most of the drama people I know too, so it will be quite a crowd in my mom's café, the Kool Kafé." She gave an extra smile as she said the name.

"I haven't been in your mom's place yet so that will be interesting, and it will be good to come along to a party," I said. "I don't know where Kool Kafé is," I added apologetically.

Clare smiled again as she put on a very long blue and white striped apron over her black pants and white scoop necked shirt.

"It's backing onto the churchyard and next to the Tourist Information office on the corner of Church and Flowers Lane, but Oliver knows where it is if you're coming together."

"Oh" I said, "well he may not be around to come. He sent me a message that he will be going away for a week or so just this morning."

"Really," she answered. "I wonder where he's going? Has he said anything to you James?" She turned to James who was folding the napkins into complex shapes and putting them on a tray ready for taking into the dining area.

"No, maybe it's something that's just cropped up," he said, and then added, "maybe it's his IT business. Let's face it we're all mostly doing other things besides this," and he grinned at me.

I asked without thinking, "What other things are you doing James? I only really know you've been studying history, well, my dad said that."

He didn't mind my question, answering, "Yes, I was studying medieval history and archaeology but finished that degree. I'm doing some post graduate work in archaeology only this time, and I've just been accepted by the county archaeology people to do some part time work with them, so I'm happy with all of it."

"Wow, you sound busy, how do you fit it all in?" I couldn't help saying.

"I'm taking the study slowly, and we haven't started the dig we are planning on the main Dearing estate yet. It's still having some things approved."

I was intrigued, the Dearing estate, I wondered if Tristan knew about this, he must surely?

"Are you looking for something in particular on this dig James?" I asked trying to sound casually interested. James looked happy to talk about it.

"We're going to excavate the area surrounding the old Norman door. Jack Dearing has suddenly become almost frantic to do the dig when previously he almost had people shot for being in that area of his grounds." He chuckled.

"Cool," I said. I didn't know what else to say and it was cool anyway.

Clare, who had gone into the dining area came back through and announced,

"Marcel wants to talk to us about the menu James are you ready?"

"Yes, we'll see you later Chloe," he said to me.

Clare waved a little goodbye and I said see you later to her as they went into the dining area.

So more excitement surrounding the Dearing estate I thought, as I texted Oliver saying 'sorry I missed your call, are you busy, can I call you back now?'

My phone rang almost straight after I sent the text, and it was Oliver. He asked if we could meet at lunchtime in the village, at the café where we went after the art exhibition. I was happy to say yes.

I went into dad's little office and wrote him a note, 'hello dad, have a good day' and a smiley face. Leaving the note uppermost on his desk, I left.

At home, I was thinking I should look for a present to give Clare on her birthday. Maybe I should do that this afternoon after I had met Oliver.

Maybe a pretty scarf would be a safe present since I didn't know her tastes and everyone can use a scarf at some point in time. I was in the kitchen and took a glass of orange juice out with me onto the patio.

This patio runs the length of that side of the house and the middle drawing room French doors lead onto it too. I put the orange juice down on the table out there and walked to that end of the patio looking out at the path and garden, which eventually led to the edge of the woodland. I guess I was hoping Tristan was out there, and to my surprise, he was. As usual, there he was standing in the edge of the woods.

It always seemed a bit spooky that he appeared like that when I was thinking of him, but given that he was a groundskeeper here, it was probably part of the job checking out the woodland. He walked quickly towards me. There was a dog with him, and it walked in a sedate fashion behind him slowly.

When he reached me smiling he said, "Chloe, this is Charlie, Liz's dog I was telling you about. I thought he might like a walk in the sun on this lovely day, instead of being in his basket, which is where he usually is."

Charlie had reached us and I bent to pat the dog as it sat down on the path still wagging his tail and it thumped on the path slightly. He put his head into my hand when I stopped patting him as if to say more patting please. I laughed.

"He's cute," I said to Tristan.

"He's a nice character, lovely temperament. I treat him for his arthritis now, don't I boy?" Tristan said, fondling the dog's ears.

"Do you look after the estate's animals as well as the grounds Tristan?" I asked him because he was so talented.

"Mostly," he replied. "I've done so much over the years, but I find that it's best if I work at things that don't give me much visibility in the community now. I was a vet for some years in an area of Dorset, but then it was obvious I wasn't aging and people started to comment occasionally, so I left that. I have a horticultural degree too, so looking after the estate's garden business and the estate grounds is a good thing to do. One day I will tell you my fascinating life story, if you want to hear it that is." He looked a little embarrassed that he had told me what he had.

"I'd love to hear it when you want to tell it, you're so interesting and talented Tristan."

He grinned at that. "I've had time to be."

I smiled too and then I told him I'd just been talking with James and Clare, telling him about the party invitation and then the conversation with James.

"So Jack is finally going to take a look under that door is he," Tristan said. "James's grandfather has been trying to get him to do that on and off for years. I wonder why he has finally agreed?"

"You could just ask him Tristan," I said.

He smiled a little, putting his hands in his pockets and said he would be doing that and then asked was I going to the birthday party with Oliver. He was looking down at some imaginary thing on the path moving his foot around on it. I guessed he didn't like asking this, or maybe he didn't like what he thought would be the answer.

"Oliver may not be in town to go to the party, which he will have been invited to by Clare anyway. Do you know if Liz is going?" I said.

Tristan took one hand out of his pocket and ran it through his hair before answering that he didn't know. This made me smile because his hair always just fell down tousled again afterwards, but it was an endearing gesture. I caught hold of the hand he had freed up and said, "Why don't you come to the party Tristan? You may have been alive for hundreds of years but you look young and you are really aren't you, stuck in time at a certain age?"

"I'm not exactly stuck in time," he actually laughed, "but I know what you mean." Then he added, "Is that because Oliver will not be going?"

"No, no, it's because I think you might enjoy just being a young person for a change, instead of having to carry around that backlog of history and all the lives you have had to lead..." I tailed off not knowing how to express what I felt.

"How old were you when you fell through the ice?"

"I was nineteen. My older brother had been nearly twenty-one when he was killed. I had a younger brother and sister, twins who died when they were both four years old and there was another sister who died at fifteen." He said all this matter-of-factly and yet it was sad.

"It was a harsh existence then. There was to have been another child the year before I fell through the ice, but my mother died in childbirth, and the child died too," he sighed after saying this and I stood closer to him to give comfort. I didn't know what to say to any of this because it was so sad really especially because it must have been happening to many people. He must have read what I was thinking on my face.

"Chloe my family had a good life. The poorer people died so much younger and sometimes of starvation, though when there was a disease it killed them quickly because of their poor diet and living conditions. You see, that's why my father was so heartbroken by both of his remaining sons' deaths, or so he thought, because that was all his children dead. Maybe that was why he had consulted a Magus in the first place." Tristan concluded.

I watched him as he told this story and he was not emotional really, just a little sad and it must have been because it was all so long ago. Other relatives and friends must have died and he lived on all these years. It was the first time I had confronted his immortality. It made me anxious.

I asked him if he would come to Clare's party if not with me, then with Liz.

"I think I would like to," he started to answer, and then he stopped and clicked his fingers to the dog who had started to walk down to the house. Charlie stopped his journey, turned and came back, when the dog was at Tristan's feet, he stroked its head and continued, "I think maybe I will just check with Liz what's happening, if that's okay?"

"It's okay, sure, Tristan".

I realized it was growing late and I was meeting Oliver. It would only take me ten or fifteen minutes to reach the appointed meeting place so I figured I could go back to the subject of the dig with Tristan for a while longer and asked him if he would talk to Jack Dearing about the dig.

"I probably will in a casual way when Liz is around too, he's kind of more approachable when his favorite daughter is around," he smiled at the favorite daughter part.

"How do you know she's his favorite?" I asked smiling too.

"He calls her darling and Laura he calls Laura," Tristan said seriously, and then smiling he said, "It's true."

"They may find something to shed light on your father's actions in the dig," I said not knowing whether I should just outright say magic spells.

"Maybe," he said, but he didn't sound too happy that they might.

Charlie decided to walk back towards the woods and Tristan watched him for a few seconds then said, "I think he wants to go home to his basket. I better go Chloe," and he took the step to be in front of me and kissed my cheek. "Bye," and he just walked off towards the woods and Charlie, with his head a little down. I stood there watching him and he suddenly turned and saw me. I put my hand up and gave him a little wave. He kind of nodded that polite nod I had seen him do before and went on again. I felt like running after him and holding him tight, just to show him that somehow he was touching my soul with his life story.

Chapter Nineteen

I went up to my room. I thought I might wear one of my new T-shirts and put it on. It was antique green with bits of lace, net and ribbon in various but random places. This gave it a bit more of an edge than a plain T-shirt. I put my hair up with a clip. Gathering my cell phone, and some money, I put it into the back pocket of my jeans, and then I left to drive over to meet Oliver. If this sounds odd, maybe it is, but I was thinking on the drive that it would be good if Tristan and Oliver could be friends.

When I reached the café Oliver was already there sitting at one of the tables outside with his back to the sidewalk. It was warm and sunny and the tables were shaded with green and white umbrellas, a pot of blue and lilac flowers in the middle of each table. Just my color scheme I thought as I approached him. When I got to the table Oliver stood up and pulled a chair closer to him for me, a lovely gesture I thought.

"Hello Chloe, it's so good to see you," he said, and then added, "I thought I might have to leave without seeing you in person when I couldn't get you on the phone this morning."

I was smiling at him because he was always so open and nice, and I answered, "Sorry Oliver my phone was upstairs and I just missed seeing the messages until I was in the restaurant talking with Clare. Did you get an invitation to her party?"

"I did and sadly I will be missing it because, and this is a good development for my business, I have been asked to go and network the whole of the office of an advertising company down the north coast of Devon, just over from Somerset, a little place called Farslea. The office is on a large business park weirdly called 'The Retreat.' They also want me to assess their current database software and suggest ways of improvement. It will take me about a week and I'm staying down there. I have already booked a place for eight days. This is the best bit, your dad says to do what I need to and get back to the restaurant when I can. I did explain to him all about my business in the interview."

When he took a breath and I said, "Dad's cool he's used to this stuff."

"Well I wanted to see you before I went off," he said, and he took my hand. "Are you having lunch? They make a great burger here, loads of salad on it," he told me.

I replied that would be good and as a girl carrying a tray of coffees came past to the next table, he asked if she could come to us next.

When we had asked for burgers and iced water, I said to him, "I will go to Clare's party. I was thinking of trying to find a present for her here in the village after lunch, maybe a scarf. I don't know what her tastes are really."

Oliver thought that was a good idea, he had seen her arrive at work in a couple of scarves, one that she used as a hair tie.

"She dropped one as she hung up her jacket and I picked it up for her. It was all bright colors, like lemons and oranges," he said.

"That's impressive information, Oliver," I told him. "You don't happen to know if there is a shop here in the village that might sell scarves? I still haven't had time to really look around all the shops along the main shopping streets?"

"There are a couple of shops almost side by side. I got a present for my mother in one of them at Christmas and they sell almost everything like belts, scarves, and beads. I'll walk down there with you after we eat if you like," he said starting on his burger as they had just been brought to the table.

"Oliver, this isn't Clare's mom's café is it?" It suddenly occurred to me that it might be.

"No," he replied. "That's at the other end of this lane. You will have passed it coming into the village. As a stranger, you can miss that the lane forks on one side and doubles back on itself. It's kind of like a loop. The church sits in the middle with the back part of the lane at the back of the churchyard. Then this part widens right out and the market square is in the mid-section. I'll draw you a little map," he grinned.

"Maybe you could just show me that too if you have the time," I replied.

"I'd love to. I'm not leaving until six this evening. It's only a couple of hours over to the place I'm going. I'll settle into my accommodation tonight and go into the advertising agency tomorrow morning.

"I'll miss you," I told him, looking at his lovely face.

"I'll miss you," he said, "but I'll call you if you don't mind and check how the birthday party went."

I thought this was my cue to tell him about Tristan. I didn't know if Tristan would come to Clare's party but if he did, I didn't want to be seen as messing Oliver around, nor Tristan for that matter, and also I wanted Oliver to know.

"Oliver, I asked if Tristan would like to come along to the party. I met him in the grounds and he seems so isolated from things like that. I asked was Liz coming and would he come?"

Oliver looked at me in a strange way, as if trying to gauge if I'd actually asked Tristan to accompany me. Then with his eyebrows slightly raised he said, "And what did he say, because Liz will be going? I can't think why she would refuse since Clare has been making a friend of her. James told her that he and Liz used to be an item, and I know Clare wanted to make sure Liz was okay with her and James being together now."

"He said he might come along if Liz was, but I don't think he meant it. He kind of left it all without a real answer," I told Oliver.

"Why would you bother Chloe?" Oliver asked very quietly. "What does he really mean to you, because it seems like there may be something between you? You just get this look when you talk about him and you know what Chloe, you look at me like that too, which is a bit confusing to say the least."

I felt confused myself because this was something out of my experience entirely, how do you feel the same for two guys, it's bizarre and not acceptable is it? It was interesting too that Oliver would notice.

"I feel as if he is lonely, Oliver, and I thought it would be nice to try and include him, after all he's young and doesn't seem to do anything other than work. I do like him." I stopped there. It was hard to know what to say.

Oliver looked at me his eyes and expression suddenly kind, and he said, "You know I care a lot for you, if he shows up and you hang out with him, okay, but just remember I'm thinking of you and missing you." Then he added, "But he's much older than we are, isn't he? Well apart from James, but I thought he'd been around the Dearing estate since I was about sixteen, and working as if he was an adult. I mean Liz is about six months older than I am, but even so that's three years since I knew of his existence, and he must have been eighteen at least when I was sixteen."

'Oh no' I thought, 'as soon as anyone starts to think about Tristan they add up two and two and suddenly he will be in danger.'

I hurried to cover it up a little.

"I think he's about nineteen now and his upbringing has made him seem older." I thought that would fit the story quite well.

Oliver seemed to want to get off the subject of Tristan anyway.

"I'll show you those shops if you want," he said.

We paid the bill and walked off down the street to where the market square widened out. On the left side were the two shops Oliver had talked about. He showed me the one where he had bought his mom a present and in the window, they had a great selection of semi-precious stone jewelry, belts, and bags. I was surprised by it. The other shop right next door had clothes and accessories.

I asked him to take me past Clare's mom's café if he was still okay for time and we went off the market square down a side alley, which took us to the churchyard.

"We can just cut through the church garden and churchyard as it has a gate at the other side and the café is almost at the back." Oliver said, and he put his arm around my shoulders as we went into the cooler shade of the church garden, passing old gravestones, and markers.

As we reached that part of the churchyard, I said, "It's been lovely to see you Oliver, thanks for this guided tour," and I put my arm around his waist and gave him a sort of half hug.

In answer, Oliver turned to me, held my face, kissed me on the forehead and then kissed me on the lips, and it felt so very good. We looked at each other as we broke apart. I think we had both realized how much we meant to each other. We started walking again.

We seemed to have reached the street and Oliver waved a hand towards another café, virtually there next to the churchyard entrance.

"There it is," he said. "Kool Kafé, it's not open until three in the afternoon. It does seven until eleven thirty in the morning, and then three until eleven thirty at night. Sometimes local bands will play there too and it opens until much later then. Very cool," he smiled.

I looked at its pink, lime and ice blue striped awnings, the paved area outside had planters concreted in at intervals with white and pink petunias growing out of them and cascading down the sides. There were tables out there too, the umbrellas folded down to signify they were closed I guessed. White metal lace work chairs and tables empty now were arranged on the paved area. The little stream that ran by the churchyard actually ran in front of the paved area and between the sidewalk and the road here. The stream seemed to wander all over the village.

"It looks great and so pretty," I said to Oliver.

He'd taken his arm from around my shoulders, but now he took my hand and asked, "Where did you park I want to take you to your car."

I told him in the library car park and we turned around and retraced our steps. I asked him about the company he was doing the work for and he told me they were quite a high-flying advertising agency despite the office being tucked away in the countryside.

"You would have seen their latest campaign for chewing gum and a particular brand of jeans airing on television if you watch it," he told me.

I laughed. "I've hardly seen any TV since I arrived here, Oliver. That's unusual because I'm a bit of an addict back in California."

Oliver smiled at me. We reached my car quite quickly and Oliver hugged me.

"I'll call you so that you don't forget how much I miss seeing your pretty face," he said and because I was thinking exactly the same thing about him, I couldn't help smiling even as he kissed me.

Chapter Twenty

When I was back at home, the issue of Tristan started to bug me again. I looked at the range of photos I'd taken of him. I didn't know what to make of all the magic spell stuff and decided to research the Magi that Tristan had talked about.

I discovered that they were a mysterious group and seemed to have as their symbol a special cross in a star. 'Where had I seen that before?' I thought, and then I remembered I had seen a similar one on the tunic of a crusader knight when I had researched them on the internet too. It wasn't the same though just reminiscent. The Magi seemed to have esoteric and astrological knowledge in advance of anyone else in ancient times. They had been maligned at times, but in reading more, I concluded that these ancient people were quite fabulous in their knowledge. All the words for magic had been derived from their name of the Magi. Pity that some negative connotations had been added to that.

It looked to me as if they could, if anyone could have given a spell to Tristan's dad. The question was what was the extent of the spell? I came across a rather strange site, which could have been a crank site but had some interesting hypotheses about the knowledge of light and life that the Magi possessed. This site also invited the reader to join the new order of the Magi, smiling I decided against that and came offline to think about the other things I had read.

I was thinking, what if the Magus had provided a spell for both sons, and the older one having recovered and the spell therefore used, just went back into battle with his father away, and was simply killed in battle. It could be we were clouding the story of Tristan by thinking he was linked to his brother's spell. What if the old knight, Sir Edmund Dearing had got the spell for the older boy, it had worked, and then he got a second spell for his younger son separately when he heard about the boy's sickness. This was plausible I thought. I had read that there was evidence of Magi in many parts of the world not just ancient Persia and some of these people were respected healers.

In reality you don't know if what you read is in any way true, but then back in California, if someone had told me I would meet a beautiful eight hundred year old guy by a pool in the grounds of the estate I was going to live in, I would have said no way to that. Yet there was Tristan, so very real.

If we concentrated on just Tristan's condition maybe we would get somewhere. I wondered then, what did Tristan want? Did he want to know what had happened to him so that he could undo the spell and die? I was horrified. I couldn't come to terms with that and couldn't stand the thought of him being dead.

I was so unsettled by this idea that I decided to go back into the village and shop for Clare's present thinking that would take my mind off things.

I saw mom in the kitchen as I passed and called out where I was going and she called back, "Chloe, a painting has been delivered for you. I had it put in that huge end drawing room because it's quite a big painting and I didn't know where you wanted it."

That stopped me going out the door and I turned on my heel and went into the kitchen.

"Hey Mom, about that painting I saw it at the local exhibition of district art when I went with Oliver. I loved it and it was close to my own portfolio subject matter, it was relatively inexpensive. What do you think?"

We went down to the end room, which was the big drawing room. It stretched the width of the whole house, and had a huge but disused fireplace in it. You could easily stand up in it and it was a bit spooky.

The painting was wrapped in tissue and fabric. I unwrapped it easily as it was tied with a soft cord.

Mom said, "Wow, I like it, the colors are great, and I love the stained glass effect it has."

I told her that it was a representation of a window in a church and bending to the wrapping retrieved a sheet of paper, which gave information about the work. "The old knight, farewell old friend," I read aloud, and then told mom that was the title. As I read it, an idea came to me. This was a copy of the new window Tristan had told me about, but what if that was a copy of an older window design somewhere, who was 'farewelling' the old knight. The old knight was Sir Edmund Dearing in the eleven hundreds wasn't he?

I asked mom if I could leave the painting in this room and we propped it against the far wall out of the range of sunlight that came through the wall of windows on the garden side of the room. It was good. Laura could paint I had to admit and as we went back to the kitchen I told mom that it was Laura Dearing who had painted it.

"Hey Mom what are you up to? Do you want to come out to a shop I've seen in the village and get Clare a birthday present?"

"That's just the break I need, Chloe, I'll come with you."

We went off to the village. I found a lovely silk scarf in the shop. It was white, with a lime and a paler lime green abstract sort of ivy trail pattern here and there, subtle and unusual, and I liked it so Clare might. If she used scarves as hair ties this lime green would look cool with her near black hair. I had it gift-wrapped and as I was standing at the counter waiting for this being done, mom found a belt she had to have.

Back home, I made a small birthday card from some of my photographic work of buttercups and daisies. I left it printing out and went to gaze out of the window at the still day. It was warm and the breeze had only the slightest coolness about it, looking towards the woods I expected to see Tristan but he wasn't there.

I had propped a chair against the door in my bathroom that led down to the kitchens, it was locked from my side with the key that was in the lock, but obviously, a key inserted from the other side could push that out. The idea of anyone just being able to access my bathroom from a secret passageway just didn't appeal to me.

I hadn't done anything about Art College. I hadn't touched my portfolio work and I had no inclination to, my mind was full of the issues surrounding Tristan. Really, how could it not be?

Chapter Twenty-One

I dreamed that night of Oliver. We were walking in the village hand in hand, but when I looked again at his face, it had become Tristan. It wasn't scary but I woke up with a feeling of discomfort.

I couldn't shake that edgy feeling and knew that the only thing I could do was to seek out Tristan and start looking for more answers, perhaps, at least to be in his company.

The day was warm and sunny again. I found my dark sunglasses, and started out for the greenhouses, hoping that he would be there.

Before I reached the greenhouses, I met Liz. She was with the dog Charlie, and waved to me. I got to her quicker than she got to me because old Charlie was snuffling in the flowerbeds and she was waiting for him.

"Hello Liz," I said, "I haven't seen you for a while, have you been busy?"

"I've done a few more shifts with your dad at the 'Peacocks' restaurant. I find myself attracted to the restaurant industry, to my father's annoyance," she answered and she laughed.

"Did he want you to do something else?" I asked.

"Well not really. I help with all the management of the estate, like some of the wedding planning and the conference organization. I'll always do some of that even though we have staff for those jobs because that side of the business is busy, but I like the immediate buzz of the restaurant. I said this to my father when he commented on my being over there more than I had first said I would be, and he didn't like it. I took the job with Mr. McGarry because I wanted something out of the circle of my father's influence just to have something completely of my own. It's really grown on me, and I was talking with Marcel about training for the kind of work he does. I mentioned this to dad and it caused a bit of an upset because he sees my work as crucial to the Dearing estate," she explained.

We stood watching Charlie as she talked. Suddenly he seemed to realize I was there and that he had met me before. He came up to me wagging his tail and I stroked his head, saying "Hello Charlie."

Liz looked at me. "I didn't know you had met Charlie, how?" Then she guessed quickly adding, "Tristan sometimes takes him for a walk. It's Tristan isn't it?"

She didn't need to continue because I said nodding, "Yes I met him coming along here a couple of days ago with Charlie."

She was smiling a little. "You like Tristan don't you?" she asked.

"I do, he's an interesting person," I replied not wanting to confess too much.

"I think he likes you too Chloe," she told me.

I asked her if she was going to Clare's birthday party and she said she was.

"Maybe we can go together," I ventured continuing with, "I'll be driving there, and it would be nice."

Liz nodded. "Actually it would be nice, but amazingly Tristan is coming along. Apparently James said to him to come when he was on the telephone about the archaeological dig that father has given the go ahead. So Tristan said he would drive us, maybe we can pick you up. We will pass the house."

I was surprised about this, but didn't want Liz to know it.

"Sure that would be great," I answered.

She smiled at me. "Well I better get back," she said, and then clicking her fingers at Charlie she asked, "Were you just out for a walk, it's a lovely day isn't it?"

I said that I was. We exchanged telephone numbers so that she could call with the time she and Tristan would drop by on Friday for the drive to the party. I hoped however that I would see Tristan before then, in fact that day.

She turned off the path to go across by the fountains to her house. I continued on as if to go to the abbey ruins, but only went as far as the hedge of box artfully clipped into bird shapes. I stood there behind the largest one feeling horrible about hiding from her. Then I doubled back to take the path to the greenhouses. I really wanted to see Tristan now he had decided to go to the party, and he'd been talking to James about the dig. I wanted to know more.

As I got to the first greenhouse he came out carrying a large flat box, which I could see had flowers inside as the leaves and some of the rose heads were visible over the top. He saw me and immediately started to smile. It felt like such a relief to see him, and I was surprised at the intensity of my feelings.

We walked towards each other.

"Hello Chloe, I was just thinking of you as I cut some of the roses that you had said you really like for a conference dinner tomorrow night." He tipped the box towards me and I could see they were the green and deep pink tipped roses.

"Hi Tristan, I met Liz just now, and she said you decided to go to Clare's party, that's great. She said you'd been talking to James about the new dig."

"I thought about what you said and decided it might be good to go to a party. James says they will start the dig in about eight days. They just have one more authority to get."

He stopped walking then, as we had just fallen into step together. Putting down the box, he turned to me. "Oliver's gone off to do the computer job then?" he sort of asked and stated at the same time. "Does he know I will be at the party?"

"I told him that I'd mentioned it to you and said it would be good if you went, why?" It was hard for me to talk about Oliver with Tristan.

"I think you know why?" he said, then more gently added, "Chloe, what can I say, I find it hard to think that you care for Oliver, and yet I know I have no right really as what am I? At any moment I could be gone. Who knows what the spell is and when it will end?"

It was a new concept for me. I hadn't thought he might think like that at all. He'd been around for longer than eight hundred years and it seemed inconceivable that he would just cease to exist. It reminded me that I had wanted to ask about his intentions for his life when he discovered what the spell was all about.

"Tristan, I have to ask this, do you want to find out about the spell so that you can put an end to it, I mean, you know, die?" This was awful just to speak the words and I almost whispered the last few. I kept talking softly. "Because I don't want that to happen, I can't stand the thought of you not existing," I ended.

He thought for a few seconds then said, "I just want to know more about what happened, about why, about what it ultimately means. It's so hard just going on and on." I could see he was struggling to find the words.

"I had some thoughts, Tristan, about the spells. I was thinking maybe we should just exclude the spell that was supposedly cast for your brother and say there was something that was separate and totally different in the one for you."

He nodded, but didn't comment.

I continued, "You know maybe James's grandfather knows more than he has ever said. What would you think of going to see him? I mean both of us. James said I could talk with him because of the portfolio I was doing with the waterfall as my focus." I was hopeful. Suddenly it seemed the right thing to do. "Tristan, let's do that," I said.

Tristan picked up the box he had placed on the path.

"Chloe, I have to get these to the function room because they will start to perish in this warm air if I don't, come with me, we'll talk, I like that idea, I do," he said.

We walked along and I told Tristan that I would go and see James in the restaurant and ask him as soon as possible. Tristan said, "Why not just ring him and maybe he can arrange it right away. Once I have delivered the flowers I'm more or less free. The florist is already doing the table settings. I took them the flowers they needed earlier. The roses are for the podium display. I just need to look in on one of the horses that seemed unwell yesterday."

I smiled at this, and said, "Tristan, you love animals don't you?"

He laughed and replied, "Sometimes certain animals have been my only real companions, but in general I do love animals, and I don't have to fear them like I've had to fear some people. They generally love you back if you love them."

It occurred to me that he may have had to do things in his life that were not exactly pleasant. He'd lived through some wars and some weird times in history.

I told Tristan that I didn't have James's number, but he had it, and at the function room, I put it in my phone and called James.

James answered right away, and our luck was in, he was actually at his grandfather's house, and would ask the old guy right then. I could hear him talking to his grandfather in the background, as I waited on the phone.

When he came back on the phone, he said to come around as soon as I liked today because they were going through one of James's assignments together for the next couple of hours.

Tristan asked if I minded that we use one of the cars on the estate and go straight from the stables. It was fine by me. I watched him look at the horse, his voice soothing and low all the time talking to it. It knew him well and was very cooperative.

"I think you're fine old fellow," he decided after a while, and he gave the horse a cored apple from out of the bag he had been carrying over his shoulder.

As we headed for a small truck in the courtyard, I asked, "I saw you concentrate on his hooves did you think there was something wrong there?"

"For a little while, but he's fine."

The truck was old and battered but obviously a work vehicle. It had a dual cab and a sort of tray top with drop down sides. There was a hay bale in there.

Tristan opened the door for me to get in the truck and actually took my elbow and helped me in. It was extremely nice. I hadn't realized how good it would feel to have something like this happen to you. You know you see movies of times when guys stood up if a girl walked in the room or helped them as Tristan had just helped me, but you don't think you want it. After all, it's in the past, we've kind of let go of those courtesies but when Tristan did this, it was almost sensual.

Chapter Twenty-Two

We were at James's grandfather's house quite quickly. It was on a small lane that branched off the main road to the village. Some of the houses were black and white half-timber old buildings and were fascinating to see. James's grandfather's house was a light reddish brick building, with crisscross brickwork and diamond lattice windows, it looked equally old. He had roses climbing up the whole of the front around the door. The roses had massive pink and white heads. It was lovely.

We rang the bell and when we went inside following James, I was surprised to find it had been refurbished and was modern and quite minimalist. The style suited the smallness of the place. James, who had come to let us in, introduced his grandfather. The old guy was tall, but stooped, 'years of digging' I thought. He had white hair, a full head of it still parted on one side of his head, it curled onto his collar. He had very sky blue eyes. He shook our hands and was looking at Tristan intently, then at me and he was smiling.

"I've never met you Tristan, but I know a bit about you and I've seen you around the place. I was fascinated that you should want to come along with Chloe and hear about the waterfall's history." He indicated chairs for us to sit at the table he and James were working at.

James told us he was about to make coffee asking if we would like some. I declined but Tristan said he would like some. His eyes were on the old guy who was shuffling papers to one side. I thought it was great, except how would we get any real information from him with James around. Then I thought that maybe the old guy thought I didn't know anything about Tristan, and that he needed to be careful of what he said.

"Sir," Tristan addressed James's grandfather, "before you talk about the waterfall or anything else I just want you to know Chloe knows as much about me as I know myself."

I was impressed by this and so was James's grandfather for chuckling he replied,

"Well said Tristan, and call me Harry, both of you. James is leaving after his coffee. He has a meeting with the county archaeological department."

As James came in with the coffee, Harry launched into a history of the waterfall, as he knew it.

"There were legends that it once had a separate spring running alongside the river at the top. A holy spring, because it's thought they were blessed at one point in time by a visit from the Christ child. Though not much is known about this story and if you're interested, geological studies were once done in the forties. They think the spring found a new course in Elizabethan times and may bubble up into the pool through some porous rocks but mostly continues underground to come out in the West Country. The legend of the Christ child is more prominent there. Anyhow, belief can be a powerful thing in my opinion and the springs may have been treated as holy." He smiled at us both and went on with his story.

"Amongst the ancient Britons there was a belief that if they died in battle defending their part of the country, the ground that received their blood was made holy. This area is littered with ancient sites, prehistoric and Iron Age, as well as Roman, then Saxon and so on. The waterfall has another story attached, it's known that this is truth however, and should be called history. The youngest son of Sir Edmund Dearing, who died in the Holy Land in the third crusade, drowned there the Christmas before his father died. He was called Tristan." Harry stopped talking then and drank some of his coffee, looking at James over the rim of the cup.

James seemed to take this as a cue because he stood up and told us he had a meeting and had to get going that he would see us later.

We said our goodbyes and then when James was gone, Harry with extraordinary insight said, "You came about the manuscript really didn't you? Its okay, I need to tell you, it's time things were clearer for you, Tristan. James has told me about how you asked him to keep your name off the current list of Dearings in his thesis. We both know you are one and the same Tristan, apart from your original uncle in the eleven hundreds, who's been mentioned in history. What I mean is there has only ever been you. No other boy was ever named Tristan in the Dearing family."

I sort of let out a gasp, because he was so open. Tristan was just staring at the old guy. Harry took a breath and a sip of his coffee, which must have been cold by now.

"I have one of the manuscripts Tristan," he said.

I was shocked enough to say, "Wow," and as I was sitting close to Tristan at the table, I clutched at his hand. He caught hold of it and hung on to me as Harry continued.

"Jack Dearing has the other manuscript. I'm sure he was the one who took it, before we had chance to take the finds to the university twenty years ago. Liz and Laura hadn't been born yet. He was always hanging around the dig, and he even brought their mother, then pregnant, to see how we were going towards the end when a buried stone box was suddenly revealed. It was found deeper than where we'd found the stained glass window remains in the abbey crypt flooring. We'd been looking carefully for days after finding one panel of glass incredibly almost intact. They'd been hidden and protected in specially built and sealed underground rooms. The box with the manuscript that I know Jack took also contained a short sword. It had a jeweled handle, and it seemed to be made of gold. The jewels were sapphire and rubies, and probably diamonds. There was a Dearing crest on the side of the cross piece at the handle, and it had no sheath with it, but had been wrapped in cloth, a sort of linen. There was also a tiny, stoppered flask, like a tiny perfume bottle, but it wasn't. I don't know if there was anything in it. It was taken before we had a chance to look."

As he spoke, I thought about the sword or dagger as I had called it that appeared on Tristan's belt when he was in the water at the pool, could that be the one?

Tristan was on the edge of his seat literally, but then he suddenly pushed it back, and stood up and started pacing the floor.

"I can't believe Jack would have this stuff and not tell me, but I believe you Harry, and if the stuff went after one of his visits who else but he would have it?" He continued pacing.

Harry was soothing.

"I know what it said in the manuscript he stole, and I know what it says in the one I have kept hidden all these years, Tristan."

He got up and went to his bookshelf, taking a very large, leather bound book from the shelf where it was laying horizontally next to a small Chinese looking vase, he brought it to the table. It was an atlas when he opened it, and he simply peeled back the lining at the back of the book just like you see on TV, and got out a linen wrapped page. It was the manuscript, protected by more paper, which must have been special, as I hadn't seen any of its consistency before.

Tristan stopped pacing and came close to the document. He sat down again and with a huge sigh said, "What does it say, Harry?"

Harry managed a chuckle though the atmosphere was electric with anticipation.

"Hidden in plain sight, the best method. Tristan, don't you read old English at all?" he asked.

The chuckle had helped and Tristan actually smiled.

"No I was taught in old French and Latin. I don't get the chance to speak much of that French as it died out years ago. I remember it of course, though I have learned new French. I've kept a lot of my Latin, but I'm sure it would be hard for me to read an original old document. My botanical, veterinarian studies, and work have helped me keep my Latin. I could speak one or two dialects of Old English poorly, but no I don't read it."

Tristan smiled at his own words. Then he took hold of my hand once more.

"Please tell me what the documents say?" he asked Harry.

Harry sat back in his chair and started talking.

"The document Jack has seemed to have been written by the glazers who made the stained glass windows. It was some kind of account of what actually happened when you were drowned, you realize only the events seen by others. You know already what it said because James told me he told you. Except that it also swore allegiance to your father's memory, so I'm guessing that it was written after his death. It told that the stained glass window must never be destroyed or you would die. It told how as you became well your father heard about the death of his eldest son. That was in a battle in the Holy Land, even though he was supposed to take the next ship home after being healed of a wound, which was said to be mortal by those attending him. Your father had brought him mysterious medicine it said. It also told of another window dedicated to your father as a farewell when he died in the Holy Land. That's about it for that document, but the other, this one," he said, pointing at the manuscript he had taken from the book. "This was written with input from your father and the glazers. It was before his death.

It tells us that Sir Edmund Dearing obtained the mysterious medicine from the Magi he encountered in Ethiopia. It healed his eldest son's wounds. When he heard you were sick he went distraught to the Magi again. They said it was a lot to ask to save you as they had saved one son already. They said they wanted payment this time. The spell was a riddle, and if he solved the riddle, something special would happen as you healed. They said he must return with the payment if you healed.

Well we can only conclude that he solved the riddle which by the way he described to the glazers and it's written there as this. The Magus tells him that it will only be possible to heal you if 'an image of the young man is made in light in a holy place'."

I gasped at this and Harry stopped talking for just a moment.

I looked at Tristan's face. It was a picture of concentration, a slight frown between his eyes.

Then Harry said, "This manuscript details how your father, Sir Edmund Dearing, asks everyone he knows what it could possibly mean to have an image of his son in light. He rides hard for home and on the ship across the channel. He meets a Moor travelling with an English nobleman going home. The Moor looking through a telescope tells him of the properties of light and glass. It dawns upon him that he could have Tristan's image made in a stained glass window for the nearby abbey. As soon as he is on his estate, he sends for Alfred Glassier, the stained glass, master craftsman. They reach his son's bedside where he is hanging by a thread to life. The craftsman and his family set to work on the image of you Tristan, and as a panel is lifted into the abbey, where stonemasons have made an opening for it, a shaft of sunlight completely lights up the window, and the nave. They record that you, Tristan, begin to get better. Also and this is the mystery, the document swears them all to oath on pain of death never to reveal any of this to anyone, and it talks of the payment that your father must take back to the Magi. A payment to be extracted from you as soon as you are well enough, but Tristan you drowned first, before payment could be extracted. We don't hear from this document what that payment consisted of either. It just ends with the swearing of oath to protect the stained glass." He stopped talking then looking at us both with his kindly eyes.

Tristan was silent. I could hear him breathing hard though, as if he had been running, he must have been very emotionally affected by all these revelations. I know I was.

Suddenly he said, "Thank you Harry, I only need now to know what happened when I drowned. How I ended up living again and what was the special thing the Magus talked about happening if my father solved the riddle, which he did."

I had to join in and I said, "The Magi never got their price, and yet their spell did save you. Could the special thing be that you can never die unless the stained glass is destroyed?"

Harry put up his hands as if to say stop and he said, "I've had twenty years to think about this, and the first thing I want to say is that I took and kept this manuscript because I believed its contents to be dangerous to someone I knew was alive and that's you, Tristan.

I could be prosecuted and academically reviled if anyone finds out.

The other thing I must say is this, Tristan, the special thing more than likely happened as you were healed of the fever illness. I believe sincerely that when you drowned the spell may have still been active, because the payment hadn't yet been received by the Magi. Tell me exactly what you remember about the drowning if you can, Tristan."

Tristan took a deep breath and told the story that he had told me over again to Harry, but as he got to the part where he saw a blinding flash of sunlight through the ice of the waterfall, Harry shouted 'Eureka,' and nearly scared me to death. I was a bit shaky, and Tristan, who had still been holding my hand, leaned over and put his arm around my shoulders. We waited for Harry to explain 'Eureka.'

"I think," he said excitedly, "that the ice and the sunlight and you in the ice...it all became one more stained glass window so to speak, and the spell kept you alive until the thaw." He broke off and took Tristan by the shoulder.

"I think, I really think that's what happened my boy. The question now is what was the payment? Even if it was never paid, after all these years it can't still be active, surely. Some say that even if a Magus writes the spell in their special book, once they die the spells are dead too. I guess the special thing they talked of and the payment are connected somehow. I also think that the special thing and the immortality you gained in the ice window are different, maybe even different from anything the particular Magus expected."

Tristan had got up again after Harry had let go of his shoulder and he was back to pacing the room. I was secretly amused by Harry calling Tristan 'my boy' when Tristan was eight hundred years old.

"Can I just ask, Harry, what do you guess the payment might have been if it was to be extracted from Tristan?" I emphasized the word 'extracted,' it sounded horrid like pulling a tooth out.

Harry answered thoughtfully, "Could have been any number of things actually in those days, could be a lock of hair, a finger, even an ear."

"Stop," I said looking at Tristan. "If it was any of those things why? I mean why would the Magi want something like that?" The thought of someone cutting off a finger or an ear from Tristan was horrible.

Harry answered. "Well, it could be as simple as a bit of body for the life of that same body, let's face it, it's not much in payment you lose an ear, but are kept alive. Then again, it could be they wanted that bit of the person for a spell.

Whatever unpleasant and nasty things have been added to accounts of magicians, be sure that these Magi were holy wise men, very skilled in astrology, and were not evil in any way. I think that the payment would have been to use for good by them.

Tristan stopped pacing. "I don't care, what I care about is why Jack has been secretive about any of the finds all these years. He takes care of the stained glass and tells me about that, but the manuscript he keeps hidden from me, why Harry?"

Harry was diplomatic.

"Maybe he thought you already knew everything that the manuscript. Maybe he just wanted to save you more angst. I think he means well, Tristan, after all he's never shown you anything other than kindness has he?" Harry questioned.

Tristan answered that Jack hadn't, and then sat down again. I took his hand as much for my own comfort as his.

Harry seemed to come to some decision.

"Tristan, I think Jack is letting the dig go ahead because he suspects there is more to be found and that's a good thing. He might be ready now to confront anything that comes up, because he might be thinking that he might not own the land anything could be found upon in years to come."

Tristan nodded and sighed. "That could well be true," he said, adding "and I can't deny he was adamant that a stained glass window with my image in it should be put in the church for insurance. That was because we would always keep that piece of land with the church and that cottage nearby for what remained of the family to live in. Liz thought he meant me actually." He finished shaking his head as if he was now forgiving Jack for not mentioning that he had the manuscript.

Harry smiled tapping the document he had in front of him.

"I have one more thing to tell you about this manuscript. Remember it was a collaboration and oath-swearing document between the glazers and your father before he left for the Holy Land and after he thought you were dead. It says that a letter will be written by your father to confess his sins in case he doesn't return from battle. It tells us that Sir Edmund Dearing will hide it in the place only his brother Tristan knows about, and if he dies in battle his brother must retrieve it and have prayers said for him in light of what it says."

"How interesting," I was the first to break the silence that had descended when Harry stopped speaking.

Then Tristan said, "Fairly enigmatic I'd say."

Harry laughed and then we all laughed, not sure why, maybe it was a release of tension.

Tristan told Harry that he was very grateful for this afternoon and that he valued his opinions and insight. We ended up saying we would come back to see him sometime soon and report anything that happened to each other. Before we left Harry hid the manuscript again. We cleared the coffee cups away as we talked about the lovely weather and how Harry had planted his gorgeous climbing roses years ago, so that they would so great now.

Chapter Twenty-Three

We drove off.

"Chloe, I can't go home yet, could we go for a walk, somewhere normal, somewhere with people just going about their daily lives?"

"Perhaps we could just walk through the village, follow the little stream, and walk down the main street. Will that be okay, Tristan?"

Tristan said that would do fine and turned the truck at the end of the lane to head into the village.

We parked ironically in the library car park. Walking down the street to the café, I half-expected Oliver to be sitting at a table. It was quite surreal as we turned into the church lane and walked through the churchyard, because really, I was here with Oliver what seemed like minutes ago. I kept a small distance away from Tristan. It felt too weird to hold hands or anything here exactly where I had walked with Oliver so short a time ago.

Tristan was deep in thought and I don't think he noticed my purposeful distancing. When we got to the lane where the Kool Kafé was Tristan stopped, and turned to me. He held out his hands to me. It was obvious he wanted to be held. I went to him and hugged him. It was okay, I didn't think right away of Oliver, and Tristan hugged me tight. Then he said, "Harry Parker is a clever guy and I trust his ideas. I think that was it, the brilliant flash of light through the ice, and hey presto I'm immortal."

I had to laugh, 'hey presto,' did he know how funny that was.

Apparently not because he continued, "You have to hand it to those Magi they knew how to cast a spell."

"Tristan," I said, "Are you okay? You seem a little overwrought."

He laughed then. "I am okay. I feel as if I know more now than I have ever known. I still think the 'stained glass window doom scenario' exists because the ice acted in the same way but I'm okay, are you?"

I replied with a smile, "Yes I am. What would you like to do now?'

"Let's go to the Kool Kafé," he answered, and with his arm around me, we walked to Clare's mom's café. It was going to be open because it was quite late afternoon. We had been at Harry's for longer than I expected.

The sun was glistening on the little stream that ran between the paved area and the street. We sat at a table close by.

I picked up the peppermint green menu card that was tucked under a little terracotta pot of daisies.

A girl appeared quickly to take our order, she looked very like Clare, and I wondered if it could be a younger sister. Tristan asked me if I would like to order and I asked the girl for a cup of tea. She smiled and ticked a box on her order pad. Tristan said he would like tea too and apple pie, the girl, still smiling said,

"Of course Tristan, don't you always?" He smiled at her and watched her as she went inside the café.

"Do you come here lots then Tristan?" I asked him. "That girl looks like Clare, do you know if she's her sister?"

"We provide the orchids that the flower shop sells. It's just a couple of shops down," he said, nodding towards the right side of the street.

"I'm usually delivering them about seven thirty in the morning and I have always missed breakfast so I drop in here and have apple pie, not exactly breakfast food, but I really like it. Clare's mother bakes it herself. That's Clare's little sister, though I have only known Clare for a little while since James introduced me, her sister always brings me the apple pie. Her name is Samantha."

At that moment, Samantha came back with the order. She gave Tristan his apple pie before putting anything else down on the table and I could see she really liked him. I watched him, he didn't know it, 'interesting' I thought. I bet that he didn't know how attractive he is either and I found it charming that he loved apple pie.

Tristan started to eat. "Sorry," he said. "I haven't eaten yet today. I was straight out to the greenhouses to get the conference flowers organized and sometimes I don't sleep too well so sometimes an early start is a bit hard," and then he smiled a perfectly lovely smile. "It must be hard for you to consider that I eat and sleep and so on, even though I have all this healing ability and immortality," he said.

I nodded. "Just a little, I was wondering if you did. I think the mechanics of your being immortal, able to heal, and never ageing must be complex. Will you ask Jack about anything that Harry said?" I asked him after a moment.

"I've decided not to say anything at all, but I'm going to look carefully around in the library and maybe his study too. I'd like to see that short sword, I think it's mine," he answered.

"Tristan, I really believe he will have had your best interests at heart in all this, and Liz, she really cares about you." It seemed the right thing to me to reassure him.

"Yes, it was just a shock this afternoon to think he knew more and hadn't told me, because only recently we've been talking about things. He was even thinking I might need to go off to Cornwall for a while again, just in case I had drawn some attention to myself somehow."

I was saddened by this, and he immediately knew that. He took my hand across the table. "I'm not going. I just don't want to. I think I can stay a couple more years here before I might get noticed and then it would only be by people I may have become close to, such as James and Clare. It's surprising what you can do with glasses and different clothes. I can look at least ten years older and have had to in the past," he told me.

He must have had to do lots of hiding in this lifetime of his.

He suddenly said, "I'd like to find that letter of my father's that was mentioned. I wonder if it will come to light in the new dig."

"That's a possibility," I answered.

As we walked back the way we had come through the churchyard, I couldn't help but think of Oliver.

Tristan had taken my hand and I felt very protective of him.

As we were driving out of the village, he said, "I'm so glad you were with me this afternoon, Chloe."

I smiled at him as he glanced at me.

On my driveway, he leaned over to me and kissed my cheek. I felt it was less of a kiss than he would have liked, but the polite thing to do.

His touch sometimes made me shiver and it did then. I just wanted to hold his face and kiss him more. For a few seconds I fought it, but when he got around to my door, which I knew he wanted to open for me, I put my arms around his neck, and kissed his mouth instead of getting down from the truck. He kissed me back lovingly, his hands on my waist, and then he virtually lifted me down onto the gravel driveway.

"Take care in your snooping around Tristan," I said.

"I will," he said smiling.

I walked to the front door, and turned to watch him drive away. It was kind of a wrench. This afternoon had cemented something between us. It felt as if he should be coming into the house with me. Then I remembered it was his house and I smiled to myself.

Steven and John were coming down the hallway from the room where they'd been watching TV.

"Hi Chloe, we're making popcorn if you want some," Steven said with a smile.

"Thanks Steven I'll pass this time," I told him.

I went up to my room. It was warm in there, and I opened up all my windows including the corner one that I had thought Tristan used to get in my room. I looked out of this one realizing that it could be used to access my room because a massive trellis of ivy was right there next to the window. It spanned the height of the house on this side and grew out of the ground at the right side of the big windows in the end living room on the ground floor. The main stalks were very thick like little tree branches. It must have been growing for a long time. On closer inspection as I hung out the window I saw another plant was creeping up too, with thick stalks and flower buds. I wondered what the flowers would look like and then as I looked around at the view from this window, I saw one of the hot air balloons off in the sky, orange and blue, like a little friend bobbing away there over the trees. The sky was very blue even though it was seven thirty at night. Summer was here for sure.

I went to my computer and surfed the net looking at jeans and jean jackets on my favorite California shop website, reading the latest celebrity gossip, checking out the trailer for a new release movie I would like to see.

Time had flown by and I realized it was nearly ten at night. It was still light, though growing dark. I went to the corner window and closed it. I decided to shower and watch a favorite movie on my computer, from my bed, positioning it on the stool that I had left near my desk after sitting there with Tristan.

When I got in my bed it was only ten minutes later, but it had suddenly gone dark. It was still warm, and I kicked off my duvet cover.

Halfway through the movie, I heard the message signal on my phone that was on the floor next to my bed. It was from Oliver.

I sighed reading how he missed me already, work had started well, and he would ring tomorrow. It was as if I inhabited two different worlds, the ordinary world with Oliver, and a strange fantasy world with Tristan. Except when he ate apple pie I thought. I messaged Oliver back saying I missed him too, which was true.

I fell asleep watching the movie and woke up to my screen saver about eight the next day.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Thursday, Liz messaged me, would I be ready to go to Clare's party about eight on Friday evening. I messaged back that I would, thank you.

I was thinking I would wear my jeans and the other T-shirt I got shopping with mom. It was a lovely blue with a half lace bodice and lace sleeves. I thought it was dressy enough but not too much. I took it out of the huge old cupboard I had in my room and looked at it. Yes it was a good thing to wear.

Thursday was yet again a lovely day. I was in the utility room next to the kitchen helping mom with the wash, and it seemed as if Steven had used every single T-shirt, and pair of socks he owned. Mom was talking about her work, and telling me that she was only halfway through the project and really enjoying it. What she had done so far had been really well received by the client.

My cell phone rang in my pocket and it was Oliver. I went into the kitchen to talk to him. He was happy with the advertising company set up so far.

"I do miss you. I miss being in the same place as you. When I get back I want to spend a whole day with you," he said.

I laughed. "Okay, sounds good. I hope that you're having a good time with the work though, Oliver. I know you live for computers just like my mom," I said to him.

He laughed his lovely laugh saying, "That's very funny. I'm making good progress and might finish the job early."

We said goodbye and I pocketed my phone happily. It was good to hear from Oliver.

Mom was chuckling at something when I went back into the utility room.

"So that's what you think of me then," she said smiling, "that I live for computers."

I laughed back at her. "Well don't you? I know you love your work just like Oliver, and why shouldn't you Mom? It's great," I told her.

We had lunch together and I was just asking where Steven was when he came in. He had been asked to play with Will, John, and Mark the other musician at Clare's party. We were happily chatting about what music they were thinking of playing when the phone rang for mom, it was work, and I smiled at her.

By the end of the day, I had looked up the art colleges reasonably close to where I was living, but discovered that I had probably missed the application dates. I could do late applications but somehow I couldn't become enthusiastic, and I was thinking I would rather find some work than go on to study just yet. I would talk to mom and dad about a dedicated gap year, and wait to see what happened with UCLA. I knew then that I wouldn't go to UCLA, that it was just something else to say to mom and dad. The art colleges I had researched were in places a way off so I might have to live away from home. I didn't want that now. There was a graphic design diploma offered reasonably close by, and I would think about that.

It felt odd that I hadn't seen Tristan or Oliver that day, even though I'd spoken to Oliver on the phone it felt as if things were missing.

****

Friday morning I was in the garden, and I messaged Oliver. He messaged back saying that he hoped I would have a nice time at the party that night. I didn't say anything, and he didn't mention Tristan. Maybe we both thought it best not to.

I filled in the day hanging out with Steven and mom, and the evening came quickly. I tried hard with my eye make-up choosing a blue as close to the blue of my T-shirt as I could. I'm never happy with my makeup. I don't know why I'm so bad at it.

When Liz and Tristan drove up to collect me I was downstairs with Clare's present in my hand. It wasn't Tristan driving after all. Liz was driving her sleek gray car. I wished I was going in my Wrangler for just a moment, and then Tristan leapt out of the passenger seat and ushered me into it, getting into the back himself.

As we were driving we didn't say much, but I was acutely aware of Tristan in the back seat. I'd noticed he was in jeans and a blue T-shirt almost the exact color of his eyes. I hoped we were not going to look goofy like those couples who wear the same outfit. I'm sure you know what I mean. Then it hit me I was assuming we were a couple and for all I know he was going into the party either alone or with Liz, or we were all three together.

Liz parked almost opposite the café. There were just two spots.

"That was handy," she said smiling.

We went inside and through a hallway lined with ferns in big, blue, pots to a larger room. It was lit with fairy lights, and there was a small raised area where the band was already set up. Down one side was grouped small tables and chairs in a vivid tangerine color, and at one end of the place tables were loaded with food and drinks.

It was semi dark and quite atmospheric. The band was playing a cover of an old Dave Mathews song, and doing it very well.

I looked around for Clare as I entered the place and right then she approached, dressed in a lime green sheath dress, her black hair up on top of her head, she looked lovely.

"Clare you look great. I love that dress," I told her. "Happy birthday," I added, and I gave her the gift box containing the scarf. She opened it and was happy with the present, which was good. We talked for a few minutes about her day, and other presents she had received. Then we talked about James, who was running late.

Liz came along and gave Clare a book with a ribbon tie on it. Tristan was with her.

I stepped a little away and looked around me. Ben was there with a girl I hadn't met. There were several young people all standing in a group talking animatedly together. They suddenly all laughed loudly. A few other people in the room turned to stare including Clare, who seeing them laughed too.

She said, "They're the 'drama crowd' so expect them to provide uproar for most of the night."

James arrived, walked straight up to Clare and kissed her quickly, giving her a single rose, and a flat box, which she started to open.

I moved closer to the raised area where the band was set up and gave Steven a little wave. He smiled at me and so did John. Will was mid-sentence of a song line. I stood for a short time listening to them.

I turned when I realized Tristan had come along to stand next to me.

"Hello Tristan," I said simply. It was weird because I didn't know how to act around him that night.

"You look so pretty," he said to me, moving a closer as the band grew a little louder with a new song.

"Thank you, so do you," I replied.

He stood there for maybe a minute and then he leaned even closer.

"Chloe, maybe we could move to the back of the room, so we can hear each other speak?"

We made our way through a few people in the drama crowd who were variously dancing and posing at each other. Which I don't mean unkindly it's just that they were.

Tristan stopped and turned to me when we were at a distance from the speakers.

"Sorry, I'm not sure what to do with myself," he shrugged.

"I feel a little unsure of myself too," I admitted to him and he smiled.

"So what have you been up to since our visit to Harry?" I asked him. It seemed inane, but I was unusually tongue-tied.

"Not much except work," he replied. "I haven't done any snooping yet, but Jack is down in London for a few days next week and I'm going to take a good look around then."

James came over to us.

"Hi Tristan, how did the visit with Harry go?" He looked meaningfully at Tristan.

Tristan answered, "Harry was good to talk with, thanks, James, for setting up the meeting."

James and he started a conversation about the new dig and I moved to sit at one of the brightly colored tables not sure if I could contribute to the conversation. It seemed obvious that James and Tristan had established a kind of friendship.

I was at the table for a minute when a boy approached me. He was tall and had very dark hair, which he pulled back in a ponytail. His skin was very olive and I guessed at some background ethnicity. His eyes were black and almost almond shaped. He was quite striking.

"Hello," he said to me. "Would you like to dance?" He seemed to bow very slightly.

I was a little surprised by his extremely polite demeanor and request, but it seemed discourteous to say no. I got up and went with him to the little area that sufficed as a dance floor directly in front of the band. They were playing an instrumental version of a popular song. The boy took my hand and putting his hand on my waist in a formal dance position started to waltz. Awkwardly I followed suit because he was so formal and the music was a little fast for a waltz really.

He spoke, "My name is Max. I am in the drama group with Clare, that's how I come to be at this party."

"Pleased to meet you Max, my name is Chloe," I said. It seemed a formal answer but in keeping with his style of speech.

"You know Clare well?" he asked.

I told him that I knew her because she worked for my dad, and I didn't know her well, but hoped we'd become good friends. What with the formality of his dancing and the lack of things to say, it was quite hard work, so I was glad when the band wound up the song, and announced they were going to have a break. Music would still be provided via CD and the familiar strains of a famous female artist started coming from the speakers positioned at the side of the room.

Max did his strange little bow again, saying, "Thank you for dancing with me. I hope we will dance again before the end of the evening."

I smiled rather than said anything.

Thankfully, he went off and I went back to where Tristan, James, and now Clare and Liz were standing.

Clare turned around to me. "Chloe, I saw the very elegant Max has been dancing with you. He's a strange sort, but very intelligent, and very well read. He's joined the drama group as an addition to his studies at the university," she informed me.

I nodded as she went on, "I wanted to ask you if you'd do some set design for us Chloe? It's actually paid too. We have a budget from the grant we won in this season's Arts Council round."

I was only too happy to. "I'd like to help, Clare."

"That's great let's meet next week so that I can introduce you to everyone and give you the design briefs."

James came up to her and put his arm around her shoulders as she was talking. He smiled at me and I returned the smile. I told them both that I was about to find Steven and see how he was going. Which was not true, but I wanted to give them space.

I saw Steven at the refreshment table and headed towards him, but before I got to him, Tristan stepped in front of me.

"Chloe, I was talking with James, the dig is going ahead at the end of next week, maybe a couple of days earlier," he said seriously.

I looked at his serious expression and realized he was half dreading what might be found.

"That's good, right?" I asked, and he sort of nodded and shook his head like yes, no. It made me smile and I took his hand to lead him to one side of the room where fairy lights were all on twigs in those large blue vases like the ferns. It was slightly quieter and darker than where we had been. I took both his hands then and said, "Whatever happens at the dig Tristan, it has to be better than living without knowledge of what happened all those years ago, and what might happen next hasn't it?" I looked at his lovely serious face.

"Yes, you're right," he answered.

Just then, the band started again, playing a lovely melodious song I hadn't heard for a couple of years.

"Dance with me," Tristan said. "I felt jealous when you went to dance with that boy." I thought it was brave of him to say that, then he added, "But since he held you at arm's length I felt better." This made us both laugh a little and we held each other quite close as we danced to the song.

I felt happy there with Tristan. His touch was gentle and our heads were close. As we ended the dance with our heads so close it was natural to kiss each other just briefly, but it was in full view of Clare, who thought Oliver and I were an item, and Liz who was Tristan's guard of sorts.

I think we both realized we were on display at the same time so just holding hands we made for the side of the room where a few of the drama crowd were making an uproar, as Clare had predicted.

We stayed close to each other. I could feel the warmth coming from his arm as he stood close to me and his hand around mine was gentle. I wanted just to put my arms around him and stay there in the bubble of contentment that provided.

As we stood there, I started to watch the band and Will in particular who was singing in his cool voice. Impressed I watched him, and it dawned on me he was singing to someone in the room. He looked intently at them as he sang certain lines of the song.

"I promise you this I'll always look out for you...............My heart is yours...................I won't let you down...." He was covering a Coldplay song.

It was Liz. She was standing there on the opposite side of the room watching him too. I smiled to myself as he launched into another song. An old song but very pretty.

"You opened up your door. I couldn't believe my luck....." He must have arranged the whole set just to play to her.

Who knew? But it was obvious now he was in love with her. I watched her and the emotions crossing her face. It was fascinating to watch her realize he was singing to her. I hoped she would love him back.

Tristan asked, "Chloe, what is it?"

I looked at him and smiled. "It's Will. I think he's in love with Liz. Watch him he's singing to her."

Tristan let go of my hand and put his arm around me, and I leaned a little onto him as we watched Will. His medley of declarations of love to Liz seemed to have brought quietness to the party. It could just have been how well he could sing for most of us, because at the end of the set everyone whooped, and clapped, and shouted for more. Liz was standing still and looking at Will, who along with the other band members was smiling and bowing, and looking so happy. They promised to return and a CD was started again. It was great to see Liz approach Will and start talking to him, her head close to his.

Tristan kissed my cheek.

"It looks like she got the message," he said, adding, "I'm glad because I think that even though the split with James was a while ago, and it was a mutual decision, she might have been a little sad now and then."

We were talking about Will and what a great singer he was and we decided to go and get something to drink. As I turned around, I found that Max was staring at me intently. As soon as he realized I knew he was staring, he turned and walked off. I wondered why he was staring, but it was hardly that important, and as the evening wore on, I forgot.

Clare caught up with me as Tristan and I stood at the table with our drinks.

"Chloe can you make it to next Tuesday evening Drama group meeting?"

I nodded. "Yes sure, Clare."

"Great, Chloe, will you think about set design for a script? I'll drop it by tomorrow when I come into work at the restaurant?"

"I'd love to." I told her and she wandered off again mingling with the friends she had in the drama group.

I turned to Tristan. "Are you happy you came along to the party?" I took his hand and smiled at him. I hope he was.

"I am actually it's nice to forget who I am for a while."

I felt pleased but sad that he had that concept at all. I leaned to him. As we were talking sitting close together, I didn't notice Liz come up to us until she was sitting in the chair on the opposite side to mine.

"Chloe, I wonder if I could just have a private word with you?" she asked. I thought it was ominously formal. Tristan had heard her and I gave him a look, which I hope he interpreted as quizzical. I followed her to the corridor lined with ferns, which was about the quietest place right then.

"Chloe, I just have to say that I've noticed how close you seem to have suddenly become to Tristan, and I don't want you to think I'm being horrible, but I really thought you and Oliver were together. I've seen you with Oliver a few times when I've been working and it's just so obvious. Even though Tristan is a distant cousin, he's very dear to me and I just wouldn't want him hurt. What happens to Tristan when Oliver comes back at the end of next week? It's a long time since Tristan was in a relationship, and even though you might not understand this, he'd be easy to hurt."

It was a heartfelt speech and I understood where she was coming from.

I didn't know what to say because of the whole situation with Tristan.

I ended up telling her that Tristan knew about Oliver and Oliver knew Tristan might be at the party. Could I maybe get back to her when I had talked to Tristan, because I would like her to understand that I would never want to hurt him? She looked puzzled for a few seconds. Maybe it was the 'could I get back to her' bit of what I had said, I don't know, but then she had said okay and let's go, and led the way back into the main room.

She walked straight on and started talking to James and Clare without a word to Tristan. I sat down feeling a little ashamed of myself, because this was awful really. How could I have let myself get close to two guys like this, and yet I didn't want to let either go. I felt like I wanted to be a friend to Tristan even if nothing else. I probably looked worried because Tristan said in concern, "Chloe, what did Liz say? Was it about me?"

"It was about me not hurting you because, because..." I faltered. It felt horrible to say because of Oliver, but Tristan said it for me.

"It's because of Oliver isn't it?"

"Tristan, could we go outside and talk properly, because Liz did say more," I asked him.

We were outside on the paved area. Tristan leaned against the wall looking at me, waiting for me to start talking.

I thought, 'this is it. I have to just be honest, and see what happens.'

"I want you know that I care for you a lot. I want you as a friend and I want to help and protect you. I feel as if I want to be with you when I'm not and I feel... I feel that I can't stop seeing you. I want to be affectionate with you. When you hold my hand or kiss me, I want to kiss you back. I don't know what else to say except that I feel like this about Oliver too, although I don't want to protect him." I stammered a little.

Tristan was looking down at the paving.

"I'm sorry, I just don't know what's wrong with me," I finished.

Tristan looked up and even though he looked a little sad he said, "I know, I know everything you have just said. It's been obvious to me and you know Chloe, I don't care. Sooner or later, probably sooner, something will happen and I will have to go back to Cornwall or maybe up to Caroline and Douglas's place where no one knows me yet. Who knows? I care a lot about you too. I've not felt so close to anyone in a long time, and I just wanted that comfort. I wanted to have your friendship and affection for as long as I could. I didn't expect to meet you ever, or to find that someone would see me in the stained glass of the abbey. It just hasn't happened and the abbey windows have been on display for a long time. I let myself think the hand of fate had brought you to the waterfall when I was there, and that you seeing it was me in the abbey stained glass windows immediately after was fate, something special happening. I still believe it really, even though there is Oliver, because since you came along all the other things like talking with Harry and the new dig have happened. I so enjoy being with you too."

He stopped talking then, stepped towards me, and put his arms around me before he started talking again.

"Oliver, can see it's me in the stained glass windows too, maybe that's because of his connection to you, or maybe he's part of whatever fate is dishing up for me."

I didn't know what to say. I sighed because it was still a mess. If I said the same things to Oliver as I had said to Tristan, what would he say without the burden of eight hundred years' worth of hiding, and whatever other unpleasantness Tristan had dealt with? Maybe that's what I was going to have to do.

Tristan gave me a little sad smile.

"Sorry Chloe, I can't let go of you yet. I'll wait until you let go of me. Something is special about you coming here and meeting me. I don't know what yet."

"Tristan, what if we were to tell Liz, tell her about the way I saw you at the waterfall, that I recognized you in the stained glass. What if we just brought her into the equation? Maybe we should do that," I said enthusiastically.

He leaned back a little and I could see agreement in his eyes.

"I've been thinking that same thing, and especially since I don't want her interfering where you are concerned. Surely, it's up to me if I want to see you when I know about Oliver? We might just as well tell her Oliver has noticed me in the stained glass windows too." Suddenly he was smiling, and because he still had his arms around me, he started to waltz us around and back into the corridor. We let go of each other once inside, but he took my hand as we saw, and then approached Liz. She was with Will and looked happy. I didn't want to spoil that at all so I didn't say anything.

I think Tristan must have seen how happy she was too because he didn't speak he just stood there looking at her and waiting.

Will was going to play the last set for the evening, just a couple of songs for the birthday girl he announced and launched into 'Happy birthday to you' and everyone joined in.

Liz turned to us as the band began playing a last song.

"We need to tell you a few things Liz," I began.

Tristan continued, "It's important we include you in some developments Liz, to do with the stained glass situation," he said enigmatically, and that look passed between them again. They were used to speaking in a code, obviously.

Liz answered, "On the way home we better have a talk then."

The party wound up quite soon after that. I left Liz talking with Will and went to Steven to find out how he was getting home, Will and John were dropping him he informed me. Tristan was waiting for me at one of the tables. We went to Clare and told her how much fun the party had been, and thanked her for the invitation. Clare reminded me she would drop the script off tomorrow and I said that was cool. Tristan and I went outside to wait for Liz. He took my hand and when Liz came out didn't let go. We only had to go across the road to her car, and when we were in it, Liz asked if Tristan would like to start filling her in as she drove.

Tristan did just that, telling her about my seeing him at the pool, and then recognizing him in the stained glass and so on. He told her he cared a lot for me and knew about Oliver, and that Oliver had recognized him in the postcard picture of the stained glass window. Then he told her about Harry and it was at this information she started to comment.

"I didn't know dad had the manuscript and the other items from that dig," she stated.

"We think he has them, we're not sure he has them," Tristan said to this.

"I'll help you look in the house for them Tristan. Daddy will have left when we get home tonight actually so let's start straight away," she suggested.

I wished I could look with them too, but I couldn't intrude in this.

"Liz I hope we can be friends, and I hope you know how much Tristan means to me now," I said to her when she dropped me at my front door.

She looked at Tristan, and then she replied, "Yes we can be friends Chloe. I still don't know how Oliver fits into all this, but its clear something special is going on, like I said before, I just don't want Tristan hurt."

I went indoors then because I thought there was nothing to be gained in further explanations. I felt better that she was included.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Friday morning quite early Clare dropped the script off and I started reading it over some fruit for breakfast. It was a modern twist on Cinderella, not what I expected at all. I had expected something highbrow, maybe even Shakespeare. This was quite clever in a way, and certainly entertaining. It was almost a social comment I thought, when I had read halfway through. I thought it would be good to have some sets that were those of the original story. It would provide a foil for some of the stark modernity of the script. I got a sketchbook and sketched a couple of ideas. I made a series of drawings for a few scenes that gave the director some choices. I wanted feedback before I did more and decided to talk with the group about my ideas on Tuesday.

By then it was lunchtime, which was a surprise, especially since my breakfast fruit was still on the counter half eaten. I wanted to know if the group had access to a data projector. It would be better to show them the ideas from my laptop, so I rang Clare's cell phone, she didn't answer, and I left a message assuming she was working the restaurant lunch service.

I went up to my room and scanned the drawings, and just as I had scanned the last one my phone rang. Thinking it would be Clare I picked it up without looking at the screen, saying, "Hi Clare."

"It's not Clare, its Liz."

"Oh hello Liz," I said, and she quickly went on.

"We found something, Tristan and I. He's coming to see you now. I think he's a bit upset."

"What did you find, Liz?" I asked.

"Everything Harry had suspected Jack, my father, had taken. That's not all, but I'll let Tristan tell you."

She ended the call and I looked out of my window for Tristan, was he walking over through the wood? He wasn't to be seen, so I went downstairs ringing Liz back as I went. She answered and I asked her if Tristan was walking here, she told me he had taken a car.

As I got to the front door a car drew up, a small white hatchback, which I assumed was Tristan. It was, and he leapt out of the driver's side and strode up to me.

"You'll never guess," he began, "Liz and I found the manuscript, my short sword, and the tiny flask. It was easy to find. I guess none of us found it before because we didn't know to look. The whole lot was hidden in the wooden base of the big globe that just sits there in the library on a table with a few atlases. The base is wide and deep, but the sword had to go in diagonally. Chloe the amazing thing is Jack had opened the little flask that Harry told us had gone missing, and there had been what we might call a note in it, a tiny rolled parchment."

He took a breath, and looked around as if he expected someone to be there listening. I took the chance to speak.

"Tristan, come inside." I took his hand, closed the door, and then we went up to my room.

On the stairs Tristan continued, "Chloe, I can't believe it. I can't think why Jack would keep this secret from me, from me Chloe, after the kind of life I've been leading."

As we entered my room, I turned to him, and put my hands on his chest.

"Tristan, slow down, come and sit down. Tell me, are you okay, are you very upset?"

"I'm shocked, that's what I am, shocked," and he sat down in my desk chair. I perched on the edge of my desk near him.

"There was a letter with the flask and tiny roll of parchment. It was a letter from a scholar of Middle Persian in Oxford University. Chloe, it was saying more or less that the closest translation of the parchment was,

'An image of the young man is made in light in a holy place, the son will heal. The price will be a flask of the son's blood for Magi use and that if the image was ever destroyed within his lifetime, the youngest son would then die. The spell is cast in writing in the Magus book. It will therefore not be broken until payment is received. Payment must be received as soon as the youngest son is healed.'

The scholar said in his letter that the translation was as good as he could get it because one or two words were actually Old Persian, and that he found the whole thing unusual. He said he would be interested in knowing the origins of the parchment. If possible could he see the original not the photograph and thought that it seemed authentic, but that the writing was mixed in a way he found unusual. If Jack ever wanted to bring the original in, the archaeology and ancient studies department would be interested to qualify its authenticity. Chloe, the letter was dated December of last year, so he's waited for a while either before opening the flask or before getting what he found translated. Then just put the lot back in the hiding place."

He stopped talking and just stared at me. Then he sighed, stood up, and walked to the window and back, sat down and took my hand in his, and continued talking.

"My father was supposed to take the payment straight after I got well, he didn't, and he was still with me a few weeks later. The spell was still active when I went through the ice. That brilliant shaft of sunlight on the frozen waterfall did act like the glass. Harry must be right. The waterfall and pool area must have been considered or actually holy. I feel sick," he said.

"Tristan, do you really feel sick? Do you want some water?" I asked him, looking closely at him.

He sighed and looked miserable.

"I feel weird. My sword was a gift from my father, for my seventeenth birthday and I would have liked it back. Harry was right about the theft. Do you suppose Jack did it originally to protect me? That's the explanation Liz favors," he asked me, still looking sad and pained.

"Yes, I do. He's been protecting you let's give him the benefit of the doubt. I mean what else but to protect you?" I answered and I stood up, putting my arms around his shoulders and giving him a little hug. I wanted to try to calm him.

"It's made me think of father and of my brother who was killed. It's hard to think that my father went back to the Holy Land, and was killed because he thought I was dead. I just feel sad. I'll be okay. I've had some bad times and got through them."

I didn't know what to say, but then said I was sorry this was such a sad experience and that he must have lived through some horrible times, wars and plagues and so on.

It had just come out of my mouth without me really thinking if it could have made things worse, but he smiled a sad little smile saying, "Wars yes, fought in a few of them, can't die, wounds heal so not like a few young men I made friends with who were killed.

Wars provided me with hiding places a few times. See Chloe, it's not that people recognize me in the stained glass, but that I don't age or decline around them. I don't age and they finally notice."

I asked him then about how his body healed, did it just have a wound then the wound disappears like in the movies?

"More or less." He smiled a real smile then at my movie comment, and continued talking. "In the first few weeks after I sort of thawed out, I seemed to get better, sort of grew a little taller, got stronger. I can see quite a distance because my eyesight got so good, and then that sort of improvement stopped. I don't actually get illnesses. When I do get a wound or cut, it just disappears within minutes. I eat and sleep, my hair grows, my nails grow, but I don't age, nothing deteriorates, you know like eyesight and hearing. I look like I did when it first happened apart from I have my hair cut for the style of the day," he said quaintly.

I simply sat there looking at him. What was there to say? He was a miracle really. Then I suddenly thought about the payment for the Magus.

"Tristan, what about the payment for the Magi? I wonder why they wanted your blood because they expected you to get better from the illness, not to become immortal? They said the window needed to last your lifetime so they expected you to grow old and die."

"Yes, you're right, but I guess, like Harry was telling us, they would want it for another spell, maybe a healing spell, since they had healed me. I'd like to tell Harry about finding the stuff and the translation. I wonder if he's in?"

"Tristan, let's ring and ask if we can go around and see him this evening. I'd like to talk with Liz. I think that maybe she should come to Harry's too. We need Liz to be completely involved now because she helped you look for the things Jack stole."

He was thoughtful for a moment and then agreed.

We decided to walk over to see Liz because the day was lovely and we needed the air to clear our thoughts. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, my cell rang, and it was Clare, she could get a data projector to the group meeting easily from College and how was I doing with the script. I was pleased I had dealt with it early because I wouldn't have been able to concentrate on it now. I told Clare great, I thought the script clever and quirky and had some ideas for them tomorrow at the meeting. Tristan was waiting for me out on the gravel driveway. We turned onto the patio and then cut over the gardens to the woods.

It was the first time I'd actually been on this path that Tristan used seemingly often to get to the house. I saw a group of the small deer I'd seen before, and they moved quickly further into the wood as we passed. Tristan was deep in thought and striding along quite quickly. I almost had to run to keep up with him, and then he realized and saying sorry he took my hand, slowed down, and to my surprise asked if I had heard from Oliver.

I told him no, not since before the birthday party.

Tristan looked sideways at me as we walked. I thought it might be to check what I looked like when I talked about Oliver not being in touch.

He didn't say anything else and I didn't elaborate further.

When we were within sight of the huge house that the Dearings lived in Tristan flipped his cell phone open and called Harry. Harry was in and would be in this evening. He would be pleased to see us anytime. Then Tristan called Liz, saying we were coming over and to meet us outside so that McPherson wouldn't check who had come in the door, see Chloe, and start fiddling around offering her drinks or whatever, because we needed to talk.

We approached close to what you have to call the ancestral home of the Dearings. Ever since the castle became a ruin, they had lived in this extraordinary fortified and vast building.

We went around the back where the family apartments were, but the front part of the house was open to the public for the tourist season.

Liz was outside on the large square of paving and lawns where a couple of cars were parked. She started walking towards us and Tristan let go of my hand as we got close to her.

"Liz because Harry Parker has helped us we're going to see him tonight to tell him what we found, will you come along too?" Tristan immediately asked.

"Tristan, I'd like to but really I can't let Nick down at the restaurant, I have a special session with Marcel too. I've had a few nights off in the time I have worked there, so I hope you understand. I am interested in what Harry thinks. You could fill me in. Thank you for wanting me to be there." She finished talking looking from one to the other of us for approval.

"It's okay," both Tristan and I said almost together, then smiled at her and at each other.

Suddenly everything seemed calmer. I don't know how we all communicated this to each other. It just seemed to happen.

I asked, "What do you think our next move should be? I think we should leave well alone and not do anything about the stolen items. Just hang out and see if there any developments."

Both Liz and Tristan agreed.

Liz went back inside because she needed to do a few things before she went to work.

Tristan and I walked back home to collect his car.

As we walked Tristan told me the horse he had been worried about was well, but he wanted to drop in on him again today, and that he had to sort out some flowers for a wedding and deliver them to the florist so could we go off to Harry's about eight. I agreed this would be a good time.

At the car he had been driving, he turned to me before he got in saying,

"Chloe, thank you for comforting me this afternoon, I almost felt betrayed by Jack for a little while." Then he hugged me and added, "I'll come over about ten before eight, and maybe you can take us to Harry's in your Wrangler," and then he smiled a brilliant smile, looking totally gorgeous and happier than he had all afternoon.

When I got in the house, I wandered into the kitchen first to get a drink of water and then went up to my room.

I had only just gone through the door of my room when my cell was ringing and it was Oliver.

"Hello Chloe."

"Hi Oliver, what are you up to?"

"I'm missing you, but work is going really well, so well that I may have a day exploring before I come back," he said.

I told him about the drama group set design stuff. I didn't want to say anything about Tristan because we still hadn't worked out why Oliver might be able to see Tristan in the stained glass. I could hardly say we had been rumbled by Liz at the party or any of those things.

I suddenly felt sad and wished I could see Oliver, and involve him in the mystery, and tell him what I had told Tristan about how I felt. Oliver deserved better than evasion on my part.

He'd been strangely quiet then suddenly said. "Chloe, there's something I've found that I want to tell you about. I was working in a couple of offices to start with, and then I needed to set up and network another office where they have lots of campaign materials just pinned up on storyboards and so on. It's like where they do brainstorming for the advertisement content visuals. Well I was standing there looking at this board of photographs as I waited for the computers to re-boot and you will never guess what I saw."

I knew it would be something extraordinary because he sounded just a little strange. "What Oliver?"

"The series of photographs were a semi ruined church, a really old looking bridge over a river, then a building in ruins obviously medieval, but there were some ruined stones, and carved in the stone was the Dearing coat of Arms."

I gasped and then said, "Really, do you know where they took the photographs?"

"Wait Chloe," he replied. "There's more. The next photograph was of one of those ancient tomb things with a carved effigy on it. Lying there with his hands up in prayer position was a slightly older version of Tristan. You can imagine, Chloe, I was intrigued, especially since that stained glass window in the abbey museum looks just like him. I did ask the agency where the photographs had been taken, and they told me it was at the castle area, part of this big estate that was only about fifteen miles away. The National Trust looks after it now and it's open to visitors."

He stopped talking then and I jumped in.

"Oliver, you have to go and get some photographs. Find out what you can about the place and its history. Oliver how odd that you keep seeing Tristan in these old things, but are you sure as sometimes those statues can be misleading?" I didn't want to doubt him but I wanted to be sure, because this was intriguing just as Oliver said.

"It's in reasonable condition Chloe because it's been in the crypt and in fact still is, except they're all open at one side now with all those arches, and you can just walk in there. I knew you'd be interested in this. I wish you were down here with me to go to the place and take a good look around. I thought that I'd go at the end of my work here, like I said take a day exploring, and if I can do some photographs for you I will. I think you would like the river since you like water so much, and the bridge looks so old. It's got these triangle bits in it where people would stand when a cart came over. I'll have to take the photos on my phone. I don't have a camera with me. Oh yes did our friend Dearing show at the party?"

There he had finally asked the question I was dreading.

"He did Oliver. Liz offered me a lift and he was with Liz. We did hang out and Liz dropped me off home after the party." I didn't tell a lie but I didn't really tell the truth. I decided then I would tell Oliver when he was back and if he didn't want to see me after that then I would have to cope with it.

He told me that he was starving, and was going to get something to eat, but he would ring me tomorrow because he missed me. We ended the call and I was left to ponder the news about yet more likenesses of Tristan. Sighing I went into the bathroom and washed my face. My room felt hot. The afternoon was humid. I felt tired and lay down on my bed staring at the sky I could see through the window. Would I tell Tristan what Oliver had found or leave it until Oliver had actually been there? It was hard to know, and then I thought I would wait until Oliver was back with the photographs, what could be the harm in that.

I actually fell asleep then for about an hour and woke up with a start. Leaping off my bed, I went to clean my teeth. I just had time to brush my hair before I grabbed my car keys and went downstairs to the front of the house where Tristan was just arriving in the little white car again.

We were in my Wrangler and driving along to Harry's when Tristan said, "When Oliver comes back I'd like to know if he really recognizes me because if he really does then there will be something happen to further my, well our understanding of what happened to me. Just like all this stuff has happened since you met and recognized me in the stained glass. I think since no one to my knowledge has ever done that, you and Oliver and I, we must be linked somehow."

I was a little surprised Tristan said this because hadn't I just had a phone call from Oliver who had found yet something else that reminded him of Tristan. I still didn't want to tell Tristan until I had more information from Oliver. I also thought if it's a Dearing estate Oliver had found then at some time in his life Tristan must have lived there, or at least know about it.

We were almost at Harry's and I asked Tristan who had known about the stained glass situation down through all the ages in which he'd lived.

He answered thoughtfully. "The monks who hid the stained glass at the time of the dissolution of the monasteries, with the help of a descendent of one of my father's brothers; he had four. The glazers, well the Glazer family, except they seemed to forget the knowledge, my guess is that at some point in time they stopped handing down the information. A very good friend of mine, the son of a lady, he was born out of wedlock, and he never knew his real father because his mother was married to another man. It's a long story but I'll tell you one day. Various family members of course, and here we are at Harry's."

I parked on the lane outside the house where Harry lived. We were going down the path to his front door when Harry opened it.

"Hello," he called "great to see you, come in."

We followed him inside and once inside his living room he asked if we would like anything to drink, but Tristan was on edge just to tell him what had been happening. When Harry heard about the finds in the base of the globe, he sat back in his chair with a satisfied look and a sigh of what I thought was relief.

"I knew it," he said, then continued, "So Tristan what do you want to do next, will you ask Jack about the things you found?"

"I'm just going to leave it. I want to see what happens with this new dig, since he has just given permission for it to go ahead after years of saying no access to his land. The question is why? Could it be he's looking for something else we don't know about, or is he hoping that's where the letter from my father is? We don't know," Tristan replied and he sat back in his chair.

They looked at each other for about a minute, and then Harry smiled.

"This is exciting isn't it, Tristan, to know some more of the story? The spell must have been changed by the waterfall, the holy springs, and that brilliant shaft of sunlight suddenly through the ice. It's almost uncanny, Tristan, that just as you fell through the ice, and at just the right moment, there was that blaze of sunlight through the frozen waterfall. It kind of makes one wonder if you were just not supposed to die."

His smile broadened and then he said, "It will be so interesting to find out what the dig brings to light."

Tristan sighed. "I'm excited, but I'm also a little worried that what it brings to light will mean I have to move on." He glanced my way and I gave him an encouraging smile, but Harry realized that I was one of the reasons Tristan didn't want to move on, and he leaned forward and patted Tristan's hand.

"Why do you think they wanted my blood Harry?" Tristan suddenly asked.

Harry looked kindly at Tristan.

"I'd say that they wanted it for a healing spell since they had healed you."

"We thought that too," Tristan said, including me.

We left Harry's promising that as soon as any new information or anything actually happened we would tell him. He was a great old guy.

Chapter Twenty-Six

When we were on the way home, Tristan was very quiet, and then he said, "I don't want to go back home yet. I feel like so much has happened, I just don't want to be on my own yet."

I knew how that felt. "Stay with me a while and have some coffee or something when we get back to the house."

"Thank you Chloe," he said quietly.

I parked my car in the usual spot by mom's Cherokee and we went in.

In the kitchen, there was evidence Steven had been recently making something to eat and I smiled at Tristan asking if he'd eaten at all that evening.

"A little, thank you," he replied, and as he was just standing there, I pulled out a chair saying,

"If you'd like to sit down I'll make you some coffee, if you'd like some."

He seemed tired and a little sad. He did sit down and I did make him some coffee. Then I sat next to him and we were sitting there for a few minutes when he turned to me and put his hand along my face, holding me.

He almost whispered, "It's good to be around you Chloe," and kissed me.

I felt a little flip of my heart as he moved his hand.

He took a sip of his coffee and then he took my hand and leaned close to me.

"Chloe, when Oliver comes back, I know you will want to see him, and I'm okay with that I really am, but I want you to remember you are very special to me. I find myself thinking of you so much, will you remember that?"

It reminded me so much of what Oliver had said before he went away that it was hard to hear the words. I closed my eyes for a few seconds. I felt sad. I sighed and told Tristan I would remember that. Then I kissed him. I was in love with him for sure because my heart just went out to him and I felt like I never wanted to be anywhere but with him. Then a thought came into my head, except I feel like this when I'm with Oliver too.

Tristan still had his eyes closed from my kiss when I opened my eyes, and he looked so very gorgeous and so trusting, I put my arms around his neck and hugged him close.

He put his arms around me and didn't let go for a minute or so, with his face against mine he whispered, "I don't want to let go," I laughed a little saying, "Me neither," and we both laughed, but we did let go then.

Tristan decided it was time for him to go home and we went out to the front where the cars were parked.

He was holding my hand and he turned to me.

"I do hope that I see you tomorrow. I'll be in the greenhouses in the morning if you're walking by, and I still haven't shown you the window panels in the church. Let's try to do that before they start the dig by the Norman door because there might be a few people around for a few weeks when the dig happens."

I replied briefly kissing him. "I might just be walking by the greenhouses in the morning. I have to make sure of my preparation for the Tuesday evening drama group in the afternoon. Take care Tristan."

I don't know why I said that, the take care bit. I had suddenly felt fearful for him.

He looked at me intently.

I think he sensed what I was feeling and then suddenly he put his face next to mine and whispered, "Someone is watching us. Don't look around, but I'm sure of it. They're over there behind the big rhododendron and the edge of the open gate."

Then he kissed me on the cheek and drew back a little looking at me with his eyes wide.

I moved close to his face and to make it look as if that's what was going on I kissed him a little saying, "What should we do? Let's go back inside and watch for them coming out of hiding."

Tristan managed to nod agreement even as he kissed me back. We walked hand in hand back into the house, and I closed the front door.

Then I whispered urgently to Tristan,

"If we go to the front kitchen window we will see them if they move because the front garden lights are still on. They stay on for ten minutes at a time every time the front door is opened at night."

We slipped into the kitchen where we had fortunately turned off the light when we left to go to the cars. Tristan was at the window ahead of me peering out, and then he beckoned for me to hurry and look, sure enough there was someone moving out there. We watched them move from behind the big flowering bush. They were bent over, running as if to hide, and it did hide their face.

I could only see someone in a hooded sweatshirt. It could have been anybody, and the color was not discernible in the yellowy glow of the garden lights. I knew if they got to the patio area of the kitchen the sensor spotlight would light them up in brilliant white light. Suddenly they turned and dashed back away from the house, and running out the driveway slid slightly on the gravel, but regaining balance, they were gone. Tristan and I looked at each other with probably the same look on our faces, alarm and questioning.

"What was that about I wonder?" he said. "They must have been spooked to suddenly run off, maybe they saw us."

I instinctively held his arm. "Tristan, I'm worried now for you."

"I'm worried now for you and your family," he responded.

"Check if everyone is in except your dad, tell your mom, and ask if she thinks you should call the police and report a prowler. I'm going to watch and see if he comes back, presuming he is a 'he'."

I went into mom's study and she was working.

"Mom, is Steven was up in his room?"

"No Chloe, he's staying over at John's place tonight. Why?"

"I was with Tristan and we just saw someone hiding in the shrubbery. They've run off but what if they came back? Mom should we call the police and say we have a prowler?"

She thought for a moment then said, "Let's leave it. If everything is locked, I'll ring dad and say to call me just before he arrives. I'll wait up and let him in with all the lights in the garden on. He may think it's worth calling the police in the morning. Once dad is home we'll just put the alarm on downstairs and if anyone tries to get in that will go off and wake the whole neighborhood." She smiled, "It's probably nothing Chloe."

Naturally, I wasn't convinced, but her plan was sound.

"Okay Mom I'll check all the downstairs windows are locked if you phone dad."

I went first to the kitchen to tell Tristan and he told me there had been no sign of the person returning and came with me. We checked all the French and patio doors and all the windows, which took a fair bit of time, even though Tristan helped by doing one side of each room in the downstairs.

Whilst we worked, we were silent but after I had been in to see mom and find out what dad had said Tristan whispered, "I want to check your room before I go, in fact I want to check the whole of the upstairs."

I frowned at him. "Tristan, don't you think that's a bit over the top? I mean the guy was in the garden, nothing had been open when we checked and the front door was locked when we arrived back from Harry's you saw me use my key."

"Okay, but I want to check your room at least,' he said intently. I smiled at this and saying okay, we went up to my room. There was no one there and I hadn't expected there to be. Tristan stood there looking at me then with this look of worry still on his face.

"I wish that hadn't happened," he murmured, moving close to me and hugging me.

I hugged him back. "I wonder who that was Tristan? It's a bit weird to say the least. I'm watching you get in your car when you leave."

Tristan smiled then said, "Chloe, they can't harm me."

In the end, he let me watch until he was in the car and then I had to close and lock the door and could only watch him drive away from the front kitchen window.

I called in on mom again before I went back up to my room and asked if she would like me to stick around downstairs until dad arrived home. She told me no it would be okay dad wouldn't be home until after midnight.

I went back up to my room, but I felt on edge. I checked my locked bathroom doors, and fixed the chair under the handle again. I checked the window on the corner that Tristan had opened to confuse me that time. I finally took a quick shower and sat up in my bed with my netbook open on my lap. I checked my emails and replied to a couple of friends who were complaining they hardly ever heard from me. I had logged off when a message came on my cell phone. It was Tristan wanting to know if I was okay and saying he was home and was waiting for Liz to get back from work before he went to sleep. I phoned him instead of texting back. He answered, "I knew you would call. I'm glad because I wanted to hear your voice. Is everything okay?"

"Yes everything's okay. I think we may have over reacted Tristan."

He answered that comment with a sound of exasperation and then said,

"I've just become so used to being on the alert, maybe you're right, sorry Chloe."

"No Tristan it was worrying at the time, but I seem to have calmed down now. I appreciated your help with the security, thank you for your concern."

"I care a lot about you Chloe," he told me before we stopped talking and said goodnight.

I decided to read for a while but I fell asleep and woke up around two. I could hear nothing and deciding I had woken because my light was on, I turned it off and tried to go back to sleep. I kept thinking that there would have been some reason that person was watching us, and yet I couldn't think what. Then I started thinking about Tristan and how I felt about him. It was a jumble of intense emotions. I obviously simply fell back to sleep because it was morning when I next woke up.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Tuesday began warm and quite humid. I looked amongst my clothes for a top that was totally sleeveless because I felt warm. I put my hair up and checked in with mom before anything else. Dad said we would leave putting the police to any trouble unless it happened again and that it could even have been some drunk stumbled in the drive whilst walking home. In the warm light of the morning, I felt there might be something to this explanation. I went to get some juice from the fridge and took some to mom. I told her about the drama group meeting that night and she decided to set the garden lights to be on all the time from eight at night to seven in the morning 'just in case' she had laughed.

I told her that right now I was going for a walk before I did the final preparation for the drama group.

I set off for the greenhouses. On the way, my cell phone rang, and it was Oliver.

I was close by a low wall that bordered one side of the path and I sat on this to talk to him. He told me the job was finished and he was off tomorrow to explore the Dearing estate where those photographs he had seen had been taken. I asked him when he would be home, and he said Thursday afternoon and he was hoping I could meet him because he was missing me. I told him to have a good look at that Dearing place and that I would love to see him on Thursday afternoon. I meant it and when he had gone off the phone, I started to think about how much I did want to see him. I was just amazed at myself. Here I was going to see Tristan and yet when I talked with Oliver I could picture his lovely face and I desperately wanted to see him. What was the matter with me?

I almost turned back home, thinking I would text Tristan and say I wouldn't be passing the greenhouses after all, but part of me was worried for him, and so I continued on the path and found him in the closest one cutting some brilliant pink colored flowers and placing them in a long box. I'd thought there were only roses and orchids in the greenhouses, but here were other excellent, pretty flowers.

He saw me come through the door and smiled lovingly at me, which just made me feel bad after having just talked with Oliver.

I walked to him and told him that I had hardly any time this morning after all and would just spend a few minutes with him. He looked disappointed, but then seemed to accept it, and walking further up the greenhouse he cut a flower and brought it to me. It was a flower I didn't know, a deep brilliant pink flower with a huge head. He gave it to me kissing me on the cheek. I thanked him and because I did care so much for him, I kissed him back telling him I would call him when I could, but it might be late when the drama group finished.

He was worried by this, but I told him what mom had said about the lights and promised to be careful.

I left then holding the flower high up under its head so it wouldn't break off the stalk and I walked back to the house feeling quite miserable.

At home, I went up to my room and did some extra drawings, scanning them up to my computer ready to show the drama group that evening.

The day dragged slightly until finally at six I gathered up my stuff and drove off to the address in the town that Clare had given me as the place they were meeting for discussions. I had Googled this address, and printed a set of directions out for myself and I found it easily. Once there, I set up my computer and drawings. I connected the data projector aiming it at a wall that had no holes or hooks in it, and was painted white, so that we could see what I projected.

It was an interesting experience once everyone had arrived and I had shown them my ideas. They were enthusiastic. They wanted to know if I could start doing the real thing next week. That was when they moved to the rooms at the back of the theatre area of the hall, for preparation and the beginning of rehearsals.

Clare and I talked about when I would start the real thing, and we arranged some times when she was not at the restaurant and would be at the place herself to start with. She also asked me if I would go into the city with her in a few days' time to order the raw materials for the sets. Lots of the drama group would help with the sets. They would be people who were not main characters in the play, but also there was a sort of stage crew of people who were available. It was a team effort Clare said.

I'd noticed the young man Max, in the group. He'd stared at me with quite disconcerting attention as I'd talked and was one of the first to say he would help with some of the set work. I felt a little uncomfortable around him, but couldn't put my finger on why. I forgot him anyway as I was driving home because I was thinking about Oliver. What would he find tomorrow I thought and how will it fit into the whole story of Tristan?

It was dark when I got home but true to her word, my mom had all the garden lights on blazing, so that the whole front area was completely light and anyone lurking about would be completely visible.

In my room I put on some music and booted my netbook, I wanted to make sure I had Clare's schedule of meetings and set design requirements in my calendar. I was humming away to the music and went over to my window to open it a little wider. It had been another warm and quite a humid day, and my room was warm again.

I'm used to air conditioning in California and not being able to turn a dial and have a bit of cooler air in the room was a little annoying. The night air was cool if you could get enough of it in the room, but lots of funny little bugs get in and some bigger insects with long legs were always dancing around the light fittings.

At the window, I looked out into the night. The garden lights all along the patio were on and they lit the area beyond quite well, but further along towards the wood was very dark. I wondered if Tristan was out there and I looked out for the length of two songs before going to my computer in case he was out there, saw me and decided to come down to the house.

I had put all the dates and requirements I already knew about in my calendar when I heard footsteps on the gravel beneath my window, it made a lot of crunching because the stones were larger where it met the patio. I looked down there and it was Tristan.

"Chloe," he said in a sort of loud whisper, which made me laugh.

"I was about to text you to get you to the window, how did you know I was here?"

I laughed again. "I heard you crunching around down there," I told him leaning a little further over the sill. It was a good way down to the ground, but it was still possible to hear things.

"Chloe I found something else in the library, come down here, please?" he requested.

"Right," I said, and went down to the middle drawing room and opening the French windows, I let him in.

"I know it's late, but I just had to tell you. Liz is at the restaurant. Is it okay Chloe?" he said in a rush.

"Yes it's fine. I'm pleased to see you. Would you like a cup of coffee or anything?" I asked.

"Maybe I would, yes please," he said, and we went into the kitchen. I started making the coffee looking at him in his jeans and pale blue T-shirt standing there, he just seemed vulnerable.

"Tristan, do you want to sit down? Tell me what you found." He didn't sit down. He came to be near me at the work counter.

"It's an old book with illuminated writing and drawings of buildings. This is the important bit, it has drawings of the stained glass windows, the abbey, the Norman ruins before they were totally ruined, and three guesses as to what is featured," he said looking at me with his lovely blue eyes wide.

"Tristan just tell me," I said.

"An account of how my father, having lost both his remaining sons, wrote a letter to be read by those monks loyal to the Dearing family if he didn't return from the Holy Land. The story continues with how he hid it in a place only known to him and his lady who resides in another county. She would be the one to bring it to the monks. He asked that after reading the letter pray for him and for forgiveness of his sins. So how does that fit in with the information in the manuscript that there is a letter for my uncle?"

"Wow, but the lady part, I mean what does that mean? I thought your mother was already dead at this point," I exclaimed.

"She was, and I don't know what it means. I know my uncle didn't say anything about the monks ever getting the letter. He didn't ever say anything about a lady, nor that he got a letter, and so I can only assume the letter or letters were never found by the lady or anyone else. So my father never had his prayers said although that order of monks were always loyal and helped me too, as I have already told you." He sighed then as he looked down at the floor.

I went to him and put my arms around him.

"It could be the same letter that the manuscript talked about Tristan. Though it's a mystery, different writers might be referring to the same letter from their point of view. What puzzles me is who wrote this account does the book have an author cited?"

"Not that I saw. I just couldn't believe my eyes when I read it, I mean really there is so much I didn't know and I've been alive all this time."

He sort of slumped a little then as if tired of all the intrigue and strangeness of his circumstances. I had my arms around him. "How did you find this book, where was it?"

"I was searching the shelves for any hidey holes or anything else, because Harry had told us of a letter. I was just opening the old books at random that are stored in the top of the shelves. You need the library stepladder to get to them. I was looking to see if anything was hidden in the front like in Harry's atlas and I found this book. I saw the drawings of the abbey straight away, and then started to look and read the book, and there it was. Chloe, I'm so tired of all this stuff. What can it matter now? My father is dead, long dead, and everyone except the current Dearings are dead. I'm dead if the stained glass windows are ever destroyed, and the Magus never got paid and that's about it."

He turned to me then and put his head on my shoulder, forehead down and I wondered if he was about to cry. He didn't, he sighed again and stepped away from me looking around as if there might be someone else who would see his misery and he didn't want that.

"Tristan, I understand what you're saying, and maybe you're right, remember all this has basically happened because I recognized you in the stained glass. It's all been stirred up because of my inability to leave well alone. I'm sorry really I am."

I moved back closer to him and tried to put my arms around him again, but he caught hold of my hands and put them against his heart.

"I can't be sorry you came and recognized me. I love you, you know that don't you?" he whispered.

I looked at him, his eyes such a lovely blue, his beautiful face so serious, it was enough to melt the strongest heart. I couldn't speak for a few seconds, and then instead of speaking I kissed him. What else could I do? I did love him, but I couldn't let myself voice it.

He kissed me back and then we just held onto each other for a minute before he said, "Chloe, I'd better leave, it's late, and I wanted to make sure Liz was safely inside when she comes back from work. I have the book in my room and I think I'll take it to Harry."

We said goodnight at the French doors. I went up to my room thinking about what Tristan had said, and about him telling me he loved me.

I didn't sleep very well. I tossed, and turned most of the night. About dawn, I dropped off to sleep for a couple of hours. I just couldn't help thinking things were getting weird.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The next day I went out to see Clare and we ran through the backdrop drawings I had done, that very afternoon we were going to start painting them. The crew that showed up included the strange Max. I gave him an area of gray, outside palace wall to paint and put a girl about his age next to him painting in the sky on the horizon. The details were going on when the initial backgrounds were dry. I was thinking all the time about Tristan. Clare was there too and she was painting a chunk of the garden scenery we would have. I was brushing in woodland on the alpine scenery on the same canvas sheet stretched flat against the wall.

She called to me, "Chloe, let's go and get something to eat I'm starving, do you want to?"

I told her that I'd like to and we finished up what we were doing to go into a smaller room where a table of refreshments had been set up. She took some sandwiches putting them on a plate from a stack.

"James is starting the dig tomorrow on the Dearing estate so I'll not see that much of him for the first few days. He gets immersed in his work." She smiled, her lovely eyes sparkling. "I know it's probably nothing to do with me Chloe, but the other night at my party it seemed as if you and Tristan had become very friendly. Is it over between you and Oliver? Tell me to mind my own business if you want to."

I sighed and smiled at her.

"I don't mind Clare, Tristan and I have become close, but no Oliver and I are not over, it's a mess, I don't mind telling you. I feel really bad about it all."

I ended up telling her about the sorry mess, how I was in love with both of them and didn't know what to do about it. How Tristan had told me he loved me and I couldn't say it back. How I knew Oliver felt a lot for me and was ringing me from Somerset telling me he missed me and I missed him desperately too. I felt completely awful about it all. "Tell me I'm just the worst person you have ever known," I said to her in the end.

"I don't think that Chloe, but I do think it's a bit unconventional," and she laughed at her own choice of words. "I think eventually one of them will come to mean more to you than the other, and it will be then that it is a mess, because someone will get hurt, it's kind of inevitable. Do they know about each other?" she asked.

I told her they sort of did and weirdly each one had said almost the same thing to me about remembering they cared about me when I was with the other. I sighed.

Clare was kind, but I could see she was puzzled too, and she said, "Chloe, are you sure it's not just affectionate friendship you feel for one or the other, or even both?"

I thought about this.

"Maybe that's it Clare, maybe it's not you know that all-consuming romantic love, maybe its love but friendship. I do feel protective towards Tristan as if I want to help him and make sure he is happy. Then again my heart kind of flips a bit when I see him."

"What happens when you see Oliver?" she asked.

"Well the same really," I told her, and looked at her like a goofball. She laughed then.

"You know Chloe," she said, "it's up to them isn't it? You've more or less told Tristan you feel for Oliver what you feel for him and he just wanted you to tell that to Oliver too. I think do that, and see what happens. If you need to talk about it afterwards, I'm there for you."

We finished eating our sandwiches, which had been left uneaten as I talked about my dilemma. The painting of the backgrounds for the sets went well, and they were looking great. It was early afternoon and we let everyone else go for a break asking them if they could, to return about six for a couple of hours. We went into the city, which was about a forty-five minute drive. The traffic was quite bad because school was finishing and students were travelling home.

Once parked we got the set design stuff we needed quite easily, some of it we were getting delivered and we took some with us. Clare was telling me how she and James were so happy together. She felt that James was the real thing for her and he said that to her too. I told her I thought he was a lovely person and that he had helped Tristan a little in the past before I realized what I had said.

"Really," she said, "he is lovely. I didn't know he knew Tristan that well, no one does, but then again he did introduce me to Tristan as a friend."

I asked her had she known of Tristan growing up. She was stopped at a traffic light and looked my way, shaking her head she told me she hadn't really met him or Liz, or James, until she started working for my father.

"We do move in completely different circles," she explained, "especially since I followed the arts path at college."

I told her that her sister knew Tristan that he dropped by the Kool Kafé when he had finished delivering flowers. She was surprised at this.

"I've tried to make a friend of Liz," she told me. "Did you know she and James used to be together? I like her and she has been friendly, but she's very serious and doesn't join in much. Maybe that will change a bit now she and Will have started seeing each other," she finished.

"Isn't that great? I saw Will at your party and he seemed to be singing just for her. He's nice too and such a good musician." Clare agreed with me.

When we were back at the drama group premises, we made some tea.

Clare and I were unpacking some of the materials we had bought when the people who were able to come back to do a bit more painting started to arrive. Soon we were working away and the time flew by, it was ten before we knew it, but we had achieved a lot and no one was expected to give time the next day.

I walked with Clare to her car that was parked just outside, and my Wrangler was just opposite in the car park of the pub. I'd parked under some trees at the far end of the car park for the shade, because it was very sunny when I got in that morning and I knew my car would stand there all day.

Clare was driving away and I started to walk up past the side entrance of the pub to my car. It was dark there and the trees helped with the overall darkness of the place. I suddenly knew someone was behind me. It seemed like they were trying to keep their footsteps quiet on the paved area, which was strewn with leaves and blossom from some of the trees.

I reached an area where the car park widened out. There was lots of shadow, and darkness at the back of the pub, where a few of the outbuildings were not lit up at all. I looked behind me, and it was the person in the hooded sweatshirt not far behind. Whoever it was, looked down at the ground hiding their face.

It was hardly any distance to my car and I started to walk quickly straight up to the back of it. I turned my head to look if the person was close and held my bag ready to whack them with it. They were gone, and yet the only place they could have gone was around one of the outbuildings, which meant if they were running they would get to my car faster than I would.

I veered to the left and wide of the end of the outbuilding and ran for my car. They came out then running too, towards the Wrangler and me, hoping I guessed to cut me off. They ran to the right, but I got to my driver side door and pressing my key unlock dived in there locking the doors again. I looked around me as I got the key in the ignition and started the engine. They had gone to the right side to try and cut me off not knowing my Wrangler, shipped in from the States, was left hand drive.

I reversed with my headlights on full beam, too bad if the sucker was behind me. They weren't, they were running along the way they had launched out at me back behind the outbuilding. I drove off feeling shaky. Who was this and what did they want? It had to be the same person. They knew where I lived and they knew I was at the drama group. Had they waited all night for me to appear? If so someone might have seen them, one of the crew might have seen someone hanging around.

Driving home, I had a favorite CD on and tried to be calm. I thought. What did I see of this person? I think they were wearing jeans, which could have been black. The hooded sweatshirt really gave them anonymity, but I thought it was dark green or blue as the last streetlight before the pub car park area had lit them up slightly at the back and the point of the hood could have been green or blue. Their shoes had made a sound on the paving so I figured they were hard shoes or boots and not sneakers.

At home, I looked around the front area before I got out of my jeep. The garden lights were all on. I think mom had decided they could stay on forever now and I managed to smile at this thought. There was no one around. I got in and went straight to the kitchen where I could hear voices. Steven and mom were in there and said hi as I walked in. Mom knew instantly that I was upset and saying I looked like I had seen a ghost what was the matter, set about getting me tea.

I told them about the experience in the car park and that I thought it was the same guy as had been lurking in our front garden. Mom said she thought maybe it was serious enough to report it to the police and we should ring them tomorrow. I had some tea and some toasted raisin bread and sat down with Steven. We started to talk about music, and what he and the band were up to, and mom listened for a while. She asked how I was feeling, and I could honestly say I was fine.

We all went up to bed soon after that. I was showered and in bed before I thought that it had been today Oliver was going to explore the ruins he had discovered and I hadn't heard from him.

Right that minute I would have loved to see his lovely happy face.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The morning brought a slight chill and the sky was overcast. I was at my window looking out at the sky wondering if it was going to rain when my cell rang. I very nearly ran to the desk where I had left it hoping it was Oliver.

It was Oliver. He had heaps to tell me. Could I meet him or could he come around as soon as possible, because it was weird stuff he'd found at that 'supposed Dearing property'? I told him to come around as soon as you want to, thinking 'supposed Dearing property' this was a new development.

I was in and out of the shower quickly. I put my hair up. I only use eye pencil and a smudge of color on my lips ordinarily. I can look washed out without it since my skin is so pale. I was in my jeans and a shirt when Steven came knocking on my bedroom door saying Oliver was here. I went downstairs to where mom and Oliver were talking about computers and Oliver had already been given coffee.

"Hello Oliver," I said. The sight of him was so comforting. He looked if possible lovelier than ever, his blonde hair spiked a bit at the front, the few top buttons of his denim shirt open.

He smiled a big smile. "Hello Chloe, I was just telling your mom about the job I've just finished in Farslea." His words were ordinary, but the look he gave me made my heart flip and I thought of what I'd told Clare.

Mom said she needed to get to her work, and went off down the hall. Steven had already picked up an apple, two croissants and a small carton of orange juice, made a face at me, and was heading out to meet with John.

I sat down near to Oliver, but not exactly at his side. He angled his chair so that he more or less faced me.

"It's good to see you. It feels like a long time since we were together," he began.

I smiled at him. "It's good to see you too Oliver. Tell me about your trip, firstly did the work go well?"

"It did and I made a fair bit of money to plough back into my business and I think forged a good reputation. I'll provide support for them as they get used to the new systems. What I really want to tell you about is the mostly ruined place I went to yesterday. It's just over into Somerset and quite hidden by hills and woodland. The whole site is a set of ruined buildings. Even the bridge over a small river seems in a bad way, but for the sake of tourists and conservation, the National Trust has shored it up and restored it a little on the underside. The manor house thing is only half standing. Grass grows all around and in it, but it's obviously mowed by the trust. There's a mound where a castle used to be, but nothing of that remains except a few carved stones artfully arranged around the garden there, and a bit of staircase that goes nowhere. The church has half of its nave completely gone. The cloisters are all ruined, but there are these great arched underground crypt things where the statues are on tombs. The Dearing shield is on the front of a woman's tomb along with others. My amazing news is this, one of the carved figures lying on top of the tomb and under the arches near the woman's, looks exactly like Tristan, only a bit older, and it's the tomb with only the Dearing shield on it."

He looked at me to check my reaction. I didn't say anything. I just nodded, but was surprised and intrigued.

He went on. "Seriously it looks like what you might expect Tristan to look like as a slightly older person, and the clincher is, on his robe thing above his heart where he has his hands clasped in prayer, but on top of a sword, is the Dearing crest again.

The inscription is in Latin and apparently says, "Forever in my heart" according to the booklet I got from the Trust visitor center there. There's a legend that no one is actually in the tomb but that the lady of the time had it made because she was heartbroken about some lost love. The next thing that's just the most bizarre thing is the woman whose tomb is nearby. She's named Eleanor Tarrant."

He stopped again and took a deep breath, "Eleanor Tarrant, and on the rectangular part of her tomb is a Dearing coat of arms as well as another, which I got a photo of and am going to look up."

His news was surprising and I was waiting to hear more before I commented, but he seemed to have stopped so I said, "Go on Oliver," pulling my chair closer to his.

He took another deep breath.

"Then there was a final tomb. It was busted up and the statue was busted up a lot too. It seemed to have been a much younger man, dressed like a knight and his inscription was just 'Richard.'"

Oliver stopped talking, leaned towards me, and taking my hand, he said quietly, "What if they are my ancestors? This was a Tarrant estate not a Dearing estate after all."

I wanted to be supportive but not raise his hopes.

"Oliver, there must be hundreds of people called Tarrant. The people who lived on this estate might be nothing to do with your family, and it's so long ago now that they lived you might never find out anyway. Did you see any dates on the tombs or in the tourist information?" I asked, but even as I said it, I felt a ripple of excitement. This was something important and Oliver could be a descendant of these Tarrants.

"I don't know," he began. "I felt something when I was there, sort of déjà vu, like I'd been there before, but I know I haven't. Maybe it was just fanciful stuff. The place was very ruined and there were empty stone coffin things around too, some were next to stones laid into the grass. They were equally old and had sort of carved crosses and things that had been virtually worn away. It was quiet there except you could hear the bubble of the river and not many people were there. It was sort of spooky but I think only because I saw Tristan so clearly in the face of the guy on the tomb. I'm going to ask my dad if he knows anything about any ancestors," he finished talking and smiled at me.

"Did you get photos of this tomb effigy Oliver?"

"Yes I did and they're on my phone. I can Bluetooth them to your laptop if you want, right now." He smiled again letting go of my hand.

I smiled back. "Okay let's do it."

Just then, the doorbell rang. I went to check who it was and it was two police officers, a man, and a woman. Mom must have called them about last night, something about which I hadn't yet told Oliver.

I let them in and asked them down to the first drawing room where there was a table and chairs at one end. I had to make a statement and I asked Oliver if he minded just waiting in the kitchen, and to make more coffee if he wanted.

I told them as simply as I could what happened, the woman checked my story with questions and wrote it down, and then I signed it. They said I needed to watch out and if I was ever followed like that again to immediately ring the police. They gave me business cards with reference numbers on one of them, and with the name of a counselor, should I find myself to be traumatized by the event in the next week or so. I guess it all took about half an hour and I apologized to Oliver when they had gone. He wanted to know what 'that was all about,' referring to the police and I told him.

"My god Chloe," he said. "You should have rung the police when you got into your jeep, anything could have happened to you," and the look on his face was enough to tell me he was horrified.

"I'll be careful Oliver, I really will. I need to tell you a couple of other things, but let's do the photos first, and then I'll tell you everything that's happened since you went away."

He looked at me as if to say what more horror and he raised his eyebrows slightly. It made me laugh and because he was so caring, I leaned and kissed him quickly. He put his hands up and caught me there, kissing me back, which was lovely.

We went up to my room where all my computer stuff was, transferred the photos to my computer, and then sat together looking at them on my monitor.

The pictures of the effigy that looked like Tristan according to Oliver showed the whole figure, and then there were a few close ups of the face and the coat of arms.

"You're right Oliver," I said to him after we had both stared at the screen for about a minute. I had enlarged the eye area a couple of times and then, the whole face. "It's him if he was about forty, I'd say, allowing for the 'olde-worlde' dress and the way the hair is." I looked at Oliver and he looked at me, we both gave each other a look that said 'what's going on'.

"It's an ancestor no doubt, but uncanny all the same don't you think?" Oliver asked. I nodded, thinking it might even be him especially if there really is no one inside the tomb as the legend says, but I didn't say this yet.

"Let's see Eleanor Tarrant," I said.

We looked at her. I enlarged the area of her eyes, and something about them was kindly even though she was made of stone.

"I don't think I know her," Oliver said thoughtfully.

I laughed.

"Neither do I, except she looks like someone I might have liked to know, if we were alive at the same time." I thought that it was weird to have said this when there was Tristan alive for eight hundred years.

"We should Google the Tarrant name Oliver," I said, even though I had done this a few weeks ago. I hadn't really read anything except that it was a very old name.

"Yes we should," Oliver said. "Go ahead let's do it now, just in case something comes up and we can compare it with these photos."

We Googled his surname, and the hits were the same as I'd found before, but also we discovered it was most prevalent in Dorset originally because of a river. There was a coat of arms on one site, which we both agreed might not be the correct one as it was a very commercial site. Then we discovered another coat of arms, which was first used at the time of Richard the Lionheart, and the details appeared to describe the coat of arms next to the Dearing crest on Eleanor's tomb. We checked again, it was correct.

"Well, that's that then Oliver. Eleanor seems to have been both a Dearing and a Tarrant, if the coats of arms on her tomb are anything to go by," I concluded.

"I think now maybe the Tristan thing is probably more interesting than my name appearing," Oliver finished saying when we clicked to a site that told us the name Tarrant was not very common and maybe even relatively rare, if the numbers on this site were to be believed.

"Could it be that they are ancestors after all Oliver?" I said, as we both read the same page at the same time and looked at each other.

"I think I'll definitely ask dad if he has any information about the Tarrant family ancestors, but right now what are all the things you were going to tell me Chloe?"

I swallowed. There was so much to say and some of it worrying.

Oliver moved closer to me.

"Somehow," he said putting his arm around me. "I get the feeling some of it may not be so good to hear, and it may be better if I hold on tight to you, just in case you're about to disappear."

I thought how very perceptive he was and took hold of his other hand. I told him that the first thing I wanted him to know was that I felt deeply for him, that I wanted to be with him and thought about him when he was not around

He said then at the end of this speech, "But?"

I replied, "It's not but, it's also," and I launched into it.

"I've become very close to Tristan, because of all the things that have been happening, and I feel the same about him as I do about you. I've told him that too, because he asked. Tristan said I needed to tell you, and I already knew that, but I can't go on with the other stories until I know how you feel about the fact that I care for him and for you."

Oliver looked a little pained saying, "I don't really want to share you Chloe, but at the same time I don't want to lose you, I mean how close have you got to Tristan?" His voice was a little shaky.

I realized what he meant.

"No, no, nothing like that, the same as us, friendship, affection, caring..." and I tailed off because I didn't know what else to say.

My heart was thumping quickly. I thought he might see it move my T-shirt it was thumping so hard. What was going to happen? Was he going to say that he was out of the picture?

He smiled slightly.

"In that case, I think I still have a chance then. I don't want to stop seeing you. Sooner or later you'll know which one of us you do love and which one of us is a good friend, isn't that the way it usually works? The thing is Chloe it's in my nature to hold out for what I love. I'll try to win you, but please promise me this. If you find it's Tristan in a little while, tell me, I won't stand in the way. I can continue to be a friend because I care about you, but I know it will hurt like hell."

I said to him I would tell him and all the time I was thinking I can't believe I love two guys, because right now I do love Oliver, he's a complete sweetheart. I never expected this.

Pulling myself together, I realized I needed to tell Oliver all the things that had happened.

I started with the hooded figure having been in the garden before the pub car park. I told Oliver about Tristan and me seeing this figure and immediately Oliver asked if Tristan knew about the car park incident. When I told him not yet he thought maybe I needed to tell Tristan because what if this person went after Tristan. Then I started to tell Oliver the story of Tristan right from the beginning when I first saw him at the waterfall. As I told Oliver about the significance of him being able to recognize Tristan in the stained glass, he sort of raised his eyebrows and said wow in low voice. I could see a range of emotions go across his face as I told him everything so far that had happened, what we found out, how James had got us a meeting with Harry, the new dig, everything.

He looked incredulous, and then he said, "There has to be something strange about me just finding this ruined place in Somerset. There must be a connection somehow, a link, because this Eleanor Tarrant had a connection to the Dearings. The fact I found it can't just be coincidence. Have you told Tristan about that?"

"No because I wanted to wait until you came back, to find out exactly exactly you'd found, and because seriously Oliver, you Tristan, and I, need to get together and talk about everything that's going on. We are linked somehow. At first Tristan thought your link could be through me because of how you and I feel about each other, but now we think there is more to it, and I'm certain of that since your trip to the Somerset ruins."

Oliver smiled at the part where I said, 'how you and I feel about each other' then he asked, "When is the dig starting and do you know what they hope to find, because from the story you've just told me I think they could be looking for Sir Edmund Dearing's letter."

"Maybe, it's what they're looking for, but there's been a lot hidden even from Tristan and there may be something we don't know about."

"What are you doing today Chloe? Maybe we could go and look for Tristan and tell him about Somerset, and about the guy in the car park last night, even though you say Tristan can't be hurt what about Liz or Jack?"

"I'm sure Tristan is looking out for them. We could walk up to the greenhouses and look for Tristan there first. He was going to take that book to Harry, but I don't know when he intended to do that." I stood up and got my phone out of my pocket, "Maybe we should just ring him."

Tristan answered his phone, and I told him Oliver and I would really like to meet with him soon, was he able to, or was he too busy? It turned out he'd seen Harry the night before. Now Harry had the book of illuminated drawings and within it the story of Tristan's father's letter to the monks, and he was hiding it for Tristan.

I told Tristan that the lurker was back, only this time in the car park of the pub opposite Kool Kafé, and he was as horrified as Oliver had been.

"Tristan, we have more to tell you."

Tristan thought we might all meet at Kool Kafé that afternoon. I checked with Oliver to find out if it was okay with him, it was, and so we arranged to meet at four.

"Look out for the hooded one," I ended the conversation, and both Oliver in person, and Tristan over the phone said 'very funny' simultaneously. Now that was spooky.

Chapter Thirty

Oliver and I decided to go for a walk. I almost showed him the church where the new stained glass windows were, but Tristan wanted to show me inside so I thought we should wait. We ended up walking around the lake a couple of times just talking and holding hands. Oliver asked questions about the Magi and the blood payment we discovered they wanted and never got.

"I knew there was something about Tristan Dearing that was out of the ordinary. Didn't I say something of the sort to you Chloe?" Oliver stopped, and looked at some ducklings on the lake. "I can't believe he's more than eight hundred years old, I mean to say, that's fantastic, but to find out he's immortal as well, that's incredible. I'm in awe of how he must have lived Chloe."

Oliver turned to me and with a look of wonder on his face continued, "Think about it, all those years, you could learn so much and do so much. So many chances to be anything you wanted, well maybe it wouldn't be quite that easy, but the time would be there to try."

I had to admit he had a point.

We watched the ducklings, which were cute, and Oliver put his arm around my shoulders. We were back to our close and comforting way of being around each other, and it was so natural to us, and so very good to be with Oliver I actually sighed with relief.

I thought that maybe Oliver would like to go off somewhere, since he'd been away and may need to catch up on things before we had to meet with Tristan, but he said not. We went to the drama group premises to check out the scenery. Clare had said the place would be unlocked for a script reading that afternoon. She had to work in the evening at the restaurant.

We parked my jeep in the same place, the pub car park. Oliver hoping the lurker, as I had dubbed him, would show so that he could 'give him a scare in the same way he scared me,' Oliver's words. It occurred to me that we had just assumed it was a 'he'.

The scenery we had painted the day before looked good, and I was impressed because the colors had dried just the way I'd hoped. We were looking at the nighttime sky and palace scenery when the young man I'd danced with at Clare's party arrived. He seemed surprised I was with Oliver.

He greeted me.

"Hello Chloe, how are you?"

Then he saw Oliver, who'd been just a few paces inside the room and closer to the scenery, though I would have thought, still very visible. I think that maybe Max simply thought Oliver was someone in the drama group and when Oliver turned and came to me, it somehow surprised him.

"Hello Max," I replied, and as Oliver approached I continued, "Oliver, this is Max he's in the drama group. I met him at Clare's birthday party. Max this is my good friend Oliver," I said, thinking 'good friend' isn't that a cliché?

Oliver nodded, and said hello, while Max seemed slightly flustered, and then said hello too. I made some small talk about the scenery, and Max who clearly wanted to say other things originally, answered in a clipped manner. It made me wonder what was going on with this Max because he seemed a little bizarre. I hoped that he wasn't interested in me since we danced at the party. I thought not, but you never know.

I asked him what part he was playing in the play and it turned out he was 'a minor but necessary courtier in the palace' of the modern day Cinderella. I asked him how the script read through was going. He said fine and that he'd wanted to see how the scenery he helped paint, had turned out.

With that, I excused us. Oliver in rather an obvious fashion took my hand as we exited the room and the building.

Once outside Oliver commented, "How strained was that conversation? What's his story?" I laughed at this replying that I had no real idea.

We walked over to Kool Kafé at the other end of the village. It was nearing four and we didn't want to get there late since we had so much to talk about with Tristan.

Tristan was already there sitting at a table. He was staring down at the little stream flowing by. My heart started to beat more quickly at the sight of him and Oliver let go of my hand, which he had held since we left the drama group. I looked at him as he did this, and he shrugged his shoulders and smiled a sad little smile.

This was interesting and I thought it might be because Oliver knew about Tristan's feelings now and was being courteous.

We approached the table and though I think Tristan knew we were, he didn't look up until we stood in front of him.

"Tristan hi, how are you?" I asked, and I knew I was looking at him with care and affection written all over my face.

This must have cheered him because he smiled and replied, "Hello Chloe, hello Oliver. Oliver I haven't met you formally, pleased to meet you," and he held out his hand to Oliver. They shook hands and then Tristan added, "Tell me the details of this car park encounter, I mean who is this person?" He had a look of questioning and disbelief on his lovely face.

I told him details about my nighttime car park experience. He breathed in closing his eyes and shaking his head then looked straight at Oliver.

What do you make of this Oliver? I'm guessing Chloe told you about what seems to be the same person in her garden a couple of nights ago?"

"I think it's grim. It had to be the same person from the description Chloe gave. Have you any guesses as to who it might be at all? No disgruntled estate employees or anything like that?" Oliver asked.

Tristan smiled at this shaking his head and saying that he couldn't think of anybody, especially estate employees. We looked at each other then, the three of us at the same table. I could almost see Oliver sizing up Tristan and vice versa, but there was an atmosphere of friendliness and acceptance.

"Tristan, I've told Oliver more or less everything that we've discovered and about how I met you, because it's all become so necessary to know about each other. Oliver has a story for you and it's a little odd."

I was eager for Tristan to know, but just then Clare's sister came out and we ordered.

When Samantha left us, Oliver told Tristan about the ruined place he had visited, about the tombs, the coats of arms, Eleanor Tarrant, and the story in the visitor center booklet about the legend that no one was in the tomb. He finished with, "That effigy Tristan, it was as if you had been the model for it."

Tristan was sitting, intent on the story Oliver told him. Once or twice, he seemed to be going to ask a question, but just got further onto the edge of his seat. Then when Oliver seemed to have finished telling the story he asked, "Did you see a name on the tomb that was all busted up, the one of the younger man?"

It wasn't the question I expected to be asked.

Oliver leaned forward and said, "No, not Dearing or Tarrant on any of the tombs. Only the shields are there as identification. The tomb was all broken away was almost like someone had taken a hammer to it on purpose, whereas the others were weather worn, and age worn since they were still in the undercroft and had been for ages I guess."

Tristan by way of explanation said, "Just wondering and so you know, I wasn't the model for that effigy that looks like me. If it's an empty tomb it's not because I'm not in it. I don't know Eleanor Tarrant, but Oliver if I'm not mistaken that's your family name isn't it?"

He smiled at Oliver, and a look passed between them, something like a look of co-conspirators and I was pleased to see this. They were getting along so well and that was important to me. Tristan looked at me, "Chloe, what do you think of all this?"

I had to admit I had no idea what all this meant, but felt it was important, and that it proved we were all linked together in a way I still didn't understand.

Tristan suddenly said, "I'd like to go there, to the Somerset estate."

Oliver nodded, and after taking a drink of water commented thoughtfully.

"The thing that is really missing is your father's letter, but I'm thinking there may be more than one, we know the documents have alluded to that. I know you think they may be talking about the same letter but I don't know. It's just a hunch. I hope you don't mind me saying so."

"Why do you think that Oliver?" I was intrigued by this.

Tristan nodded at Oliver.

"Go on Oliver."

"It seems as if the documents found already, the two manuscripts, the illuminated book, they repeat the same things, and yet this was supposed to be secret. The glazers swore secrecy about the image of Tristan, so did your uncle, but it was after they thought you were dead, when your father was going back to the Holy Land broken hearted. It seems they were swearing to keep secret that your father had used the Magi to save you. It was the magic they were most interested in hiding and understandably, since it was punishable by death in those days wasn't it Tristan? Then your father had another secret, which seemed to weigh heavy on his heart and he wanted forgiveness if he died in the Holy Land. All the while a monk is writing the illuminated book, don't you find it odd?"

Tristan considered this.

"In those times the documents would have been written to make sure the information was read by at least one person who needed to be in on the secret. When I came out of the river, went to my uncles, and was not dead, my uncle Tristan took me within days to Cornwall. I didn't ever know my father had written any letters. I didn't know the manuscripts existed. It seems however, that my uncle made sure the stained glass windows would stay intact by telling the monks how important they were. Later it was these monks that helped me protect the windows, but there is such a lot of information that isn't fitting into place. I mean I don't know how they ended up in the hidden room, which was found twenty years ago. I was just always told they were safe by one family member or another.

For a few years even though my uncle and I knew I healed, and didn't get sick, we assumed I hadn't died in the frozen river. We didn't realize I would just continue to live on. It gradually occurred to us that I never seemed to get any older.

I think my uncle thought I'd come back to life because of the spell since my father had confessed his use of the Magus spell, and that's why he hid me originally."

He suddenly stopped, looked around, and satisfied no one was in hearing distance he went on, "Jack is looking for something that's for sure. Maybe it's the letter from my father or maybe there's something else, who knows? I don't, and I've been around all this time and mostly the manuscripts concern me." Then he shrugged. "I've had to do so much hiding, moving and changing my identity. I supposedly own property and have a share of any Dearing property, but I don't know this Somerset place you've described, Oliver."

Oliver was looking at Tristan as if considering everything and he asked, "Could this effigy be an uncle? Your father had other brothers didn't he?"

Tristan thought for minute. "Maybe. My uncle would go off places when I was in Cornwall and then when I was travelling to tournaments, when I started to joust."

Oliver and I looked at each other.

"Started to joust," he said, "Wow, what was that like?"

Tristan said simply, "Very dangerous," then seemed to relent about supplying such a short answer and continued, "I knew I couldn't be hurt. It was a way of earning a living and a place in society, because remember, at the beginning I couldn't claim any of my Dearing inheritance. I didn't want to use up my uncle's hospitality, with no effort to help pay my way. I did try not to hurt others too much because it seemed unfair. I met my best friend at a tournament."

He stopped talking again this time looking hurt. I think Oliver noticed too because he looked quickly at me with concern and he didn't press Tristan further only saying we could get down to the Somerset place quite quickly, do the trip and back easily in a day just to check it out, but that we had photographs if he wanted to see them.

Tristan did want to.

"Why don't you come over tonight and look at them, Tristan."

"I'd like to if that's okay, because this discovery is something we needed to factor into my whole story."

Right then Clare and James came along hand in hand and walked up to us smiling.

Clare said hello to Oliver and asked when he would be back at the restaurant. She was working that night and was about to go there.

James told Tristan the dig would definitely start Friday. In that sentence, James communicated something to Tristan, because Tristan said, "Did Harry catch you up with things? I told him he could."

James looked conspiratorial. "He did, and I'll be keeping my eyes open at the dig for anything of interest."

It was a bit of a code but I understood it. At this time Clare didn't know anything, so I think James stopped talking as she and Oliver had finished talking. They didn't stay around long and we decided to leave too. Tristan went off toward the churchyard path. He shook Oliver's hand again as he left and gave me a loaded look saying, "Take care."

We hadn't really arranged for him to see the photos, but Oliver and I were already walking in the other direction back to the pub car park.

"That was remarkably civilized, considering we're rivals for your affection Chloe," Oliver commented about halfway down the street.

I was a little alarmed.

"No don't say that Oliver, not rivals. I want you to be friends somehow. I feel as much affection for each of you so..." I couldn't continue because it sounded ridiculous.

Oliver just took my hand then and we continued walking without saying anything more.

Chapter Thirty-One

Oliver wanted to call in on my dad so when we got back to my place he left saying, "I'll call you tomorrow, please don't go wandering about in the dark, that person may still be out there." He kissed me and held me close for a few seconds.

I went up to my room to look at the photographs again.

It was definitely a strange find and even stranger that Tristan didn't know anything about the Somerset place and yet he'd said that he'd travelled from one Dearing relative to another appearing as someone new every fifty years or so. That seemed to me to suggest that this estate was perhaps nothing to do with the Dearings at all, despite Eleanor Tarrant having the Dearing coat of arms on her tomb as well as the Tarrant shield. It was her I was interested in really, especially the bit about having the empty tomb next to her of her lost love. I'd half expected that to be Tristan, he must have loved someone in all that time, and someone must have loved him.

I looked again at her and at the one of the Tristan look-alike tomb. The thing was he was represented as older, so it couldn't be Tristan, just someone who looked like him. It had to be a relative I thought.

It was then my phone beeped to signify a message delivered.

It was Tristan, of course. I knew he would call that night.

The message was asking if he could see me down by the French doors in ten minutes. I texted back that it would be okay.

I went to my window and hung out of it, looking at the woods to see when Tristan came through them. It was nearly ten o'clock and still very light. The overcast day had blown away to give sun in the late evening just when you would have expected the opposite.

I saw him appear at the edge of the woods and I went down to the middle drawing room and out of the French doors. As he got close I went to meet him smiling, my first thought being to hug him, but I stopped myself. I thought maybe I should wait and find out how he felt after meeting with Oliver.

Tristan came close and I knew he wanted to touch me. It was in his eyes. I went forward and hugged him. He smiled and seemed a little happier.

As we walked, he said, "Chloe, I just want you to know that I could see how much Oliver cares for you. It's obvious when he looks at you. If, now he's back, I mean, if you realize you just want to be with Oliver, I'm willing to stand aside. My feelings for you haven't changed, but I'm not normal, I can't expect you to want to be with someone like me."

I stopped walking and stopped this talk by kissing him.

"That's not happening Tristan. I want to be with you." I kissed him again.

He kissed me back and then sighed.

"I don't know what to make of this Somerset stuff Chloe. Maybe the effigy is of my uncle. He lost his wife very early. They had two sons in quick succession, but she died in the childbirth of a girl. The two sons also perished and I think that's why he took such care of me, because I was like a son to him, one who couldn't to be taken away by life. Besides him, there were two other brothers, who seemed to have much more luck with their children. They had five sons between them and two daughters. It could have been uncle Tristan who was this lady's lost love. I do want to go down there. Let's ask Oliver if he can make it on Friday just down and back. It's not that far. Message Oliver and see what he says?"

I messaged Oliver and he could make Friday, it would be great.

Tristan sighed.

"I'd really like to see the photographs, but is it too late or an imposition to see them now?"

I told him it was totally okay to let him see them. We didn't sneak up to my room, but we went quietly up there because who needs questions? This stuff was complex enough.

Tristan looked intently at the photographs. He said there was something slightly familiar about Eleanor Tarrant but he couldn't be sure. He looked bemused by the effigy on the tomb beside her.

"I see what you mean. It does have a look of me, but it's not me, it can't be. It could be uncle Tristan. We did look a little alike. He had the same color eyes as me. At the same time, Chloe, it could be my father. I remember him thinner in the face but let's face it stone can't look exactly like the person can it?" He turned to me looking for affirmation of his opinions.

I was sitting close to him because we were both staring at the photographs on my screen. It was hard not to feel a surge of love for him, as I looked straight into his lovely blue eyes. He had to see it in my eyes I thought, but he looked back at the screen quickly and scrolled to the photograph of the two coats of arms.

"No mistake," he said. "That's the Dearing crest, and if you say that's the Tarrant one, I believe you. Let's see the photo of the broken up tomb."

I put it up on the screen and Tristan leaned forward to see the face better.

"Hang on I will magnify it, Tristan," I said.

"I can't be sure. I really can't because what a mess this effigy is. Oliver is right someone did this. I've seen this kind of thing in the dissolution, statues and such, just unnecessarily destroyed. I think that's what's happened here. The other two tombs must have had a lucky escape. At the same time it might have been in the Civil war." He shrugged.

I put all the pictures on the screen next to each other and Tristan looked through them again.

"Fascinating. I still want to go and I want to see the broken up tomb in person for sure. There is something about that effigy that seems familiar, but since his nose is almost gone I don't know, I wouldn't like to say for sure..." he tailed off, looking at me again.

I smiled at him. "We'll go on Friday Tristan," I said.

We were looking at each other for a few seconds and finally Tristan kissed me on the cheek. Then taking my hand he asked, "How did Oliver feel about seeing me and about you having some feelings for me?"

I knew he would ask for details at some point.

In answer I shook my head, then forcing myself to speak I said, "Oliver said he felt too much for me just to let go. I didn't know what I expected, maybe that he would say forget it, you have to choose one of us, as in you or himself, but he didn't. I was relieved because I couldn't choose. I care for you both so much. It's a bizarre thing, and I have asked myself if it's moral. I don't want to lose either of you. What does that say about me? He did say that if I suddenly realized I would choose you, to please tell him because even though it would hurt like hell he needed to know right away."

Tristan looked thoughtful.

"We are all three linked. Time will tell how, and since we all care about each other, and our affection is shown in a good way maybe we needn't think too deeply about it unless that becomes necessary. Does that sound okay to you? I have honorable intentions towards you. I will back away if I believe that it's necessary to do that."

I was both cheered and saddened by this speech, and the sadness was because I thought that ultimately Tristan would do this, he would back away as he put it, because he would see his immortality as a barrier to letting me love him completely. Little did he know I already did, and the problem was that I loved Oliver too.

My mother would have things to say if she knew because to the best of my knowledge, she fell for my dad, and he for her, and that's been it, inseparable.

My silence communicated my sadness to Tristan. He took my other hand in his and holding both, he leaned across and kissed me lingeringly this time, just about melting away any sadness I felt about anything at all. I kissed him with all the love I felt for him hoping he would somehow know.

Tristan spoke softly.

"I've never actually allowed myself to love anyone, not in a hundred years, not romantically I mean. How could I? Yet when I saw you down by the waterfall, something just happened to me. I seemed to lose that resolve. It's hard to know about Oliver but he sounds very much like someone I would like to be a friend, unfortunately." He laughed then saying, "If he wasn't, then perhaps you wouldn't love him as well as me."

When Tristan left I told him to be careful, there had been no sign of that lurker, but you never knew when he might show up again. Tristan said I'd better look out too, and after hugging me goodbye went striding off.

I had the weirdest dream that night. I dreamed Oliver was a figure in the stained glass window of the church on the Dearing Estate.

Also free, Volume Two and Three of 'A Spell Cast' are now available.

Mistaken identity, deeper secrets, danger, and surprises.

The three friends go off to see the ruins Oliver has found, where a shock is waiting for Tristan. Danger is on the horizon but it's not directed at Tristan, yet. Who faces it? Laura Dearing comes home from France and all hell breaks loose. Don't miss the continuation of this story that lays the foundations of the rest.

Magic, time travel, love and friendship. Two gorgeous guys and one girl, friends, lovers, inseparable.

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