Page 160 of The Sapphire Child
‘If you don’t mind, I think I’ll go for an evening walk,’ she said to Esmie.
Every time she tried to imagine what meeting Andrew would be like, she was struck by the thought that if she was nervous, thenEsmie would be doubly so. Stella thought it might be best if Esmie saw Andrew on her own when he first returned.
‘You won’t go far, will you?’ Esmie asked anxiously. ‘And not into the woods. A bear was seen up by the Gujjars’ huts a few days ago.’
Stella smiled at her concern. ‘I promise not to go into the woods. I’ll just circle the golf course and the village. Watch the sunset.’
After wandering aimlessly around the settlement, Stella, still restless, retraced her steps to the high marg. It would only become dangerous after dark and from there she would see the sunset at its best.
Reaching the open meadow, she sank down against a log to regain her breath. The light over the mountains grew mellow; birds called in the surrounding trees. Stella closed her eyes and relaxed. She dozed.
Stella came fully awake. Some noise had disturbed her. In alarm, she looked around. She was in shade and the air was chilly. The sunset was now a fiery orange over the snowy peaks. It must be minutes away from darkness.
She heard it again. Someone calling her name. It sounded like Tom. Stella scrambled to her feet and peered down the slope. In the dusk, a tall figure was making a slow winding progress uphill from the back of the hotel.
He stopped and called out. ‘Stella!’
Her heart knocked in her chest. ‘Andrew?’ she shouted back.
The man waved.
Stella started running downhill, slipping and scrabbling on the dampening grass. Moments later she arrived breathless in frontof Andrew. His forehead and one eye were bandaged. He held out his arms.
‘Oh, Andrew!’ she cried, hugging him tight. He winced and she pulled away. ‘Sorry, does that hurt you?’
‘I can bear it,’ he said with a grimace.
‘How are you?’ Stella couldn’t think of anything to say that would be adequate in the light of what he’d suffered.
‘Getting better,’ he said.
She sensed a reserve in him, neither of them knowing quite what the situation was between them.
‘Your poor eye.’ She reached up and gently touched his bandage. ‘Though you look very piratical in that eye patch.’ As soon as she’d said it, she regretted the remark. It sounded so flippant. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to make light of your injuries.’
He smiled. ‘Don’t be. It’s refreshing after all the earnest faces and comments. People mean well but...’ His breathing was laboured.
‘Oh dear,’ said Stella. ‘I’ve made you come out searching when you should be resting. Let’s get you back.’
‘Stella,’ he said, ‘can we sit somewhere for a minute?’
‘Of course.’
He had suddenly sounded so serious, and as they made their way down the slope to the top of the hotel garden, she felt deeply anxious.
Sitting down on a bench, Andrew sighed. Stella wondered if he too was thinking of the last time they had sat there together – just before taking the fateful trip to Scotland – when he had poured out his troubles to her. Once again, she waited breathlessly for him to tell her what was in his heart. Stella watched the final rays of sun light up his features. He had lost weight. His face was thinner and scored with new lines of pain.
Quietly, she said, ‘I’m so very sorry about the loss of John Grant. He was a fine man.’
He nodded and she saw him swallow hard.
After a moment, he turned to look at her directly. ‘I know from Esmie that you got my letter. It was in John’s attaché case. It shouldn’t have been sent.’
Stella’s insides clenched. ‘I know that, Andrew. And I know it must be awkward for you now. I won’t hold you to any of it. It’s Felicity that you’re—’
‘Stella,’ Andrew interrupted. ‘I don’t regret anything I wrote in that letter. I only regret that you didn’t hear it from me in person – that you had to suffer the anxiety of thinking I was dead.’
Stella said with vehemence, ‘Oh, Andrew, it was far more than anxiety. I thought my world had ended when that letter came. It was such a wonderful letter – I had no idea you felt that strongly – and I was so desolate to think I would never be able to tell you...’
