The Foretelling (Charlotte Bloom #1) (10 page)

I quickly changed into my leggings and threw on my flats, a clean t-shirt, and my new, navy blue, oversized cashmere sweater. My hair was dry already, although I quickly realized I hadn’t blow-dried it. I had been blessed with both frizzy and curly hair (all at once), so letting it dry naturally was pretty much out of the question. I’d splurged on my blow dryer at home and thanked my former self from twenty-four hours ago for thinking to pick up a cheap travel-sized one for the trip. Unfortunately, right now I didn’t really have the time to dry it, so I threw it into a bun and pretended it didn’t look as bad as I knew it did. I quickly gargled some mouthwash, grabbed my room key, and headed downstairs.

I heard voices coming from the dining room and hoped not too many people would notice my late arrival. As I crept up to the door, I heard Helen say she was serving the main courses. I wasn’t
that
late after all. Maybe it wasn’t a formal affair. I hoped. I opened the door slowly, but the rungs were rusty and a loud creak escaped. Everyone got silent and watched me as I closed the door slowly behind me, which only seemed to make the squeaking noise louder.

As I turned to face the crowd, I noticed a few familiar faces. Tommy, my cab driver, waved at me as I found a seat at the end of the table. Next to him was George, who was seated next to Helen, who stood serving the main course from a big pot. On the other side of Helen were the young, brunette couple, and then the family of four who had been reading earlier, and then the older couple next to them. A few more faces I didn’t recognize looked at me with both surprise and annoyance, depending on the face, so when I sat down, I explained.

"I’m sorry I’m late. I fell asleep."

The kids from the family snickered, and I felt my face get hot. Being embarrassed and also very pale meant that my cheeks would turn tomato red any time something like this happened. I put my hands to my cheeks like I was rubbing my face, hoping to disguise any sort of red hue that I knew would be taking over.

"No worries, dear. We know you had a long trip from Los Angeles. I made a little extra for you, just in case, so I hope you’re fine with Welsh rarebit, which is like our version of grilled cheese. We also have a salad, potatoes, and vegetarian sausages that we call Glamorgan. Ben and Julia are vegetarian, so we decided to make a special meal for their last night." Helen gestured to the older couple, who were now smiling at me politely.

Helen finished serving everyone, and as she sat down, I noticed a man at the other end of the table staring at me. He had dark brown hair, dark eyes, and a scruffy beard. He was handsome; really handsome, but he probably didn’t even know it. Even his hair, which I noticed was unkempt, looked artfully messy and ironically put together considering he was a little disheveled and dirty. He was wearing a crème sweater that accentuated his olive skin. I gave him a small smile, but he just stared back at me, shook his head, and looked down.

"How’s the place treatin’ you?" Tommy leaned across the table while he ate, and I had to yell to get him to hear me.

"Great! It was so relaxing to take a bath and freshen up."

He smiled, and I was sure he hadn’t heard me that time either. Helen was now sitting next to George, having served the main dish to everyone. I looked down at the meal. I’d never had Welsh rarebit, but I’d try anything once. I took a bite, and my mouth was immediately filled with saliva because the rarebit was delicious. It was like a creamy, cheesy dream.

"Ermagod," I said, with my mouth still half full. "This is incredible." I quickly took another bite.

"I’m glad you like it. It’s just cheese on toast. I wish it were more posh than that, but everyone loves cheese on toast. The Americans call it a grilled cheese, and the French call it a croque monsieur. Its origins come from the First World War, when meat was rationed. We had to come up with a meatless meal, which, for Wales – or all of Britain for that matter – was quite difficult. But I think this dish was a success."

I nodded in agreement.

"Charlotte, have you met everyone yet?" George was chewing his meal loudly and quickly. Helen smacked his wrist and he closed his mouth.

"No, I haven’t."

"Everyone, this is Charlotte. She joins us from Los Angeles." He said this loud and clear; to make sure everyone at the table could hear. A few people muttered "Hey, Charlotte", but for the most part, everyone continued eating. I supposed my late arrival had seemed rude to some. Especially to the guy at the end of the table, who was now glaring at me between bites, like it was a game.

"Well, you know Helen and Tommy, or Thomas, my uncle. Next to him are Lucy and Ted, who are joining us from Tennessee. Next to them are the Braines." He leaned over and whispered to me. "That’s really their name, and they’re very smart, as if to rub it in our faces."

I laughed. They were eating with perfect table manners. They must not be American. They all looked perfectly put together and polite. I couldn’t help but notice that all four of them were wearing glasses.

"The Braine’s are from London. Next to them are Ben and Julia, from Australia. Unfortunately, it’s their last night."

I looked at the couples; Lucy and Ted from Tennessee, Ben and Julia from Australia.
Couples.
I was the odd one out. I hoped no one asked me why I was here.

"Finally, near the end of the table, we have the maid and cook, Katie, the night manager, Henry, and the groom, Alec." He gestured to the tall, dark, creepy man at the end of the table.

"The groom?" I felt stupid for asking, but I didn’t know what that was.

"I tend to the horses." Alec had spoken up, and his voice was deep and husky. He had a lilt to his voice, pronouncing horses as "harses", and I suspected he wasn’t Welsh. But my understanding of different regional British accents wasn’t great, so I really had no idea.

"Oh. Got it." I smiled at him, but he just looked at me like I was an idiot and continued eating.

I sat there eating in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the cheese on toast and helping myself to seconds of the Glamorgan, which were surprisingly good for vegetarian sausages. The wine was flowing, and pretty soon I was full and a little bit tipsy. I felt a bit dizzy, but chalked it up to jet lag and too much wine.

Soon after I finished, the Braine family went to the common room, probably to read. Ben and Julia went to their rooms to pack for their long flight in the morning, wishing me well as they left. Lucy and Ted followed them, waving goodbye. Katie got up to do the dishes, and George left with Tommy, saying they were going out back to smoke a pipe. Helen was talking to Henry, and pretty soon they were gone, too. As I slowly sipped the rest of my wine, I noticed that Alec was still seated. He was swirling his wine around in his glass, and he was looking down at his hands.

"Are you from the area?" I quipped, hoping to break the awkward silence that had fallen over the table in the last few minutes of dinner, and continued still.

"No." He didn’t look up as he said this. I waited for him to continue, but he didn’t.

"Oh. Where are you from?" He stayed silent, and continued swirling his wine.

"Northern Ireland."

I guessed I wasn’t going to get much out of this guy. I got up to leave. He was still staring at his wine glass. I wondered if he was a jerk to everyone, or just people who were late for dinner.

"Well, I’m heading up. Good night," I said awkwardly. I doubted he cared. Alec didn’t glance up or move. "Helen mentioned briefly that you do horse trekking?"

"Yep."

"Where can I sign up?"

"With Helen."

"Great." I waited. He didn’t say anything else. "OK, night."

I walked away, wishing I hadn’t stayed to talk to Alec. Clearly, he didn’t want to talk to me. I brushed it off and walked to my room. It had been a long day. I was ready for a good night’s sleep. I wanted to wash everything away and wake up feeling like a new person.

***

I woke up multiple times during the night, with visions of Amara in her wedding dress. At 6 a.m., I rose out of bed unrested, but unable to fall back asleep. The window was frosty, and even though it was June, the grass outside was covered in ice and my breath came out in small puffs of white steam. I turned the heater up and sat in the chair next to the window, staring outside. It was already light out, but the misty fog indicated the early hour.

I was startled to see Alec up so early. He made his way down the driveway, and into the stables, which I had a clear view of right from my window. I watched him as he unfastened one of the horses, petting it gently. I smiled when I realized his lips were moving. He was talking to the horse. He stroked the mane and zipped up his jacket. He jumped up onto the horse and rode away.

Since I couldn’t sleep, and since breakfast wouldn’t be served for another two hours, I put on my sweater and my jacket, brushed my teeth, and slipped on my flats, hoping to go for a foggy morning walk. No one was around when I left, and the fire crackled in the fireplace, untended. It was so cozy here. I walked down the driveway and glanced over at the stables. Alec was nowhere to be seen. I made my way down the dirt driveway to the main road and followed it for a few miles. It felt good to move. The flats I was wearing weren’t meant for walking long distances, so I knew it would be a relatively short walk. Pretty soon, the balls of my feet started to ache. It was starting to warm up. The sun had broken through the fog, and I decided it was time to make my way back down the road towards the Parc. I removed my sweater. I'd started to sweat from the sun beating down on me.

It was beautiful here. I was still in awe that I was on the other side of the world. Harry had left me just yesterday. That thought was so weird. I already felt like a different person here. I might’ve been a tad disappointed when I found out that Wales would be my destination, but in my mind it had to have been fate. I smiled and waved at the people I passed on my walk. They were all so nice and friendly. This would be the perfect setting for me to figure my life out. I felt like I was in a Jane Austen novel.

Just as I crossed the street towards the driveway that led up to the Parc, I heard galloping behind me. I jumped out of the way just in time. Alec flew by on a horse, not even noticing me.

"Hey! Watch out!" I yelled after him, angrily.

He stopped snappishly, turning around and walking the horse towards me. He stopped two feet away, looking down. He looked so statuesque sitting atop a horse like that. I had to fight the urge to smile.

"Don’t worry. I saw you." His tone was innocent but the sparkle in his eyes said otherwise. His face was flushed from riding, and he was out of breath. He ran a hand through his hair and smiled at me. I felt my stomach flutter.

"Sorry. I guess I’m not used to having galloping horses almost trample me. You don’t see many horses in LA."

"I know what I’m doing."

"Just be careful, OK?" I began to walk back to the house, slightly embarrassed for overreacting. I felt my cheeks getting red. I heard Alec following me on his horse. I didn’t look back at him.

"Want a ride back?"

"No, thank you." I clenched my fists into balls and began to walk more quickly, trying to lose him. I heard the
putputput
of the horse’s hooves on the dirt road behind me.

"Well, I’ll see you around." He slapped the back of his horse and they jolted forward, leaving me in a cloud of dust.

My stomach rumbled. I needed food.

***

The next week passed in a similar fashion. I couldn’t muster up enough courage to call Harry or Amara. I was afraid both of them would be mad at me for what I had done. Especially Harry. I was jet lagged, and I spent a good amount of time in my room just staring out of the window. I realized I was probably still in shock. I had to process everything in my own time. I needed this. My life in L.A. was so go, go, go… and I’d spent all of my extra energy over the last five months trying to get pregnant. I hadn't had any time to think. I had been a body with only one purpose. It was so calm here. Helen and George had been nothing but nice to me, and I'd had very few run-ins with the other staff at Parc-Le-Bouveret or the other guests. I felt myself get accustomed to the slow-paced life around here. I felt more and more relaxed with each passing day.

Life wouldn’t always work out the way you wanted it to. Harry and I were supposed to be together forever, and but now I was here, alone, mourning the vaporization of my marriage. The fog had lifted, and I was finally starting to feel like myself again. I was starting to feel like a whole person, rather than one half of a duo. I’d even stopped drinking coffee. I needed this. It was like rehab for the soul: a place to clear my head and find my happiness again.

A week into being in Wales, I found myself laughing with Lucy and Ted, the ridiculously Southern couple from Tennessee. Even though I was sure we didn’t have anything in common, it was still nice to hear an American accent. They were discussing something political that I wanted nothing to do with, but couldn’t help but debate them on. Lucy turned to face me, changing the subject.

"We’re going horseback riding tomorrow if you want to join us. I think Alec is taking a group up at 9:30 a.m." She smiled. She really was sweet. She reminded me of a coifed 50s housewife.