Page 67 of Love Thief

“I love them, thank you. I still do artistic things, but mainly sculptures here on the estate. I’ll show you some today. And these are perfect. I can take them on the road.” He hugs her to him and I can feel the relief coming off Evie.

“You’re not crying again, are you?” I ask her.

Xan looks at her face, wiping her tears from under her eyes. “Don’t cry, I don’t like it when you do,” he tells her gently. “I love them, Kitten.”

He stands and pulls her into him, and I see him look at his Dad, who smiles at him.

“I might get some new drawings now you have some materials,” Tarron says. “Evie come, I’ll show you some Xan did a few years ago.” He pulls her towards the library, leaving Xan and I alone in the hall.

“You okay?” I ask him as he’s now looking up at the ceiling.

“You’re right, Marcus. She’s gonna fucking kill us, man.”

I slap him on the back and we follow them to look at the paintings.

We spend our time exploring, in Evie's case, and rediscovering in mine. Xan shows us his sculptures in willow that are scattered around the estate. They've become landmarks and people apparently pay to come see them. He tells Evie about the estate, how he helps support it so they don’t have to open it year round to the public. However, the locals have access 24/7, 365 days a year. It is after all, as he says, a community home, and he and his Dad see themselves as custodians rather than owners.

The party for the summer solstice is presided over by Himself, but run by the village council. It’s open to the public, and they line the route from the centre of the village to the house. A fire is lit at the house and all the locals carry lanterns, songs are sung, and a local folk band is set up on the front drive.

The long tree-lined driveway is packed with bars and food stands. It’s a free, help yourself affair, everyone welcome, as long as you get involved in the singing or dancing. The real event, however, will be later, after all have gone home and the elders of the village row out to the island on the loch where a ceremony will take place. Xan goes, but I am never allowed.

Evie and I sit on the banks of the loch and watch them row out.

“I feel like we should not watch this.” She moves closer to me. “I think we should turn away, and not watch it all.”

“Are you getting superstitious?” I mock her.

“I’m a country girl, we are all superstitious at heart. And you’re a country boy, even though you pretend otherwise. You’ve been out on Beltane. I saw you with your dad one year.”

“Sneak, you should not have been watching that.”

She laughs at that. “I couldn’t miss you all making a racket at the top of Broad Ridge.”

“It was the middle of the night. You should have been at home in bed, not wandering around the fields. Were you on your own?”

She nods at me and looks away.

I take her hand, pull it to my lips and kiss it, playing with her fingers, wrapped in mine.

Kellen aged 15

“Who's there?” Xander and I jump up from the old settee we’ve commandeered for Bowman’s lodge. We have beer and some food, and it’s so fucking late, but I’m feeling a bit buzzed as I neck the next bottle.

“It’s no one. It’s 3:30 a.m., who the fuck would be out at this time of night?” he says, slurring his words. It’s too early for the farmers to start work, but also too late for them to be out partying. They fall asleep by tea at this time of year.

I’ve been called home for a few days, a weird ritual always at the beginning of May. My dad, as the estate owner and general Lord about Yorkshire—eye roll at that one—insists I attend and take part, so I have been since age twelve. Xan comes home with me now as he doesn’t want to stay at school if he can get away.

The tractors stopped hours ago, my mother has loads of family at the house and we can’t drink if they’re there, so we sneak out, stay up and drink. And Bowman’s Lodge is far enough away for no one to hear or look for us, but not too far that we can’t get back in a hurry if we need to.

Xander needs this. His mother died recently and he has to blow out, get drunk, rant, beat the shit out of something. He can’t do that at home, or school. His Dad would be called up from London and he’d be taken back up to Scotland, and he needs to be here.

I wrap my fleece tighter around myself. It's dropping really cold now.

“Did you see Jonno Greystone near the quarry today?” he asks me. “I’m sure he was bugging the old guy on the gate on purpose.”

I shake my head. “No, what for?”

“God knows. He wasn’t making any sense. Got him to come look at his motorbike. He fixed it, but kept him there a while talking, then drove off smiling. Always suspicious when he smiles.” He sits back and ponders. “I think he was a distraction. Did you see Evie around? She’s bound to have been in cahoots with him.”

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