The Girl Who Couldn'T See Rainbows

Chapter eleven-2

“I don’t think so,” I said, trying to sound severe, but I was actually confused and sad.

He turned the wheelchair and preceded me through the open office door. I dropped to my chair in front of him, looking for answers that he would never give me.

“The gate was wide open this morning,” I said, thoughtfully. “Maybe you should talk to Kyle. He’s becoming disrespectful and dangerous.”

“Kyle is just another poor man, helpless in the face of betrayal. A victim of other people’s amoralities.”

He wasn’t referring to Kyle and we both knew it.

“That doesn’t mean that he’s exempt from his duties and responsibilities,” I said aggressively. “Other people don’t cease to exist just because someone has hurt us. They aren’t all enemies.”

“If they stick with the traitor, they are” was his prompt response.

I was about to ask him more explanations when the phone rang. He signalled me to be silent, and answered on the second ring.

“Hello... Oh, it’s you... Of course. No! Darn it...” His tone was plaintive, then harsh. “Time. Artists need time. And before you say it, I know I’ll never win a Nobel Prize for Literature, but I'm still the author of innumerable best sellers, so stop bothering me. I’ll call you.”

He laid down the receiver with a grimace. “My publisher,” he explained. “If I don’t stand up for myself, he expects a book a month from me.”

“I thought you had finished the first draft,” I said apprehensively.

He straightened his shoulders, as if preparing for a battle. “I want to rewrite the last chapter. It doesn’t convince me.”

“You have a deadline,” I reminded him, careful not make him angry.

“Deadlines are made to be ignored, and promises are made to be broken,” he said mockingly.

“That point of view isn’t very respectful of others,” I reproached him haughtily.

He burst out in one of his famous laughs which drove away the dark clouds. My love for him was endless, I decided. Yet he didn’t give me his best. Definitely not. His sudden mood swings were bad for my spirit, and he was often rude and cruel. I didn’t expect a saint, but a normal man. He was a mountain of faults that I had to climb without spears. It was a suicide attempt, because I knew I would only find the tip of the iceberg at the top. His sunshine was sporadic, tempting, unreliable, and I was dazzled by those few, tenacious, persistent rays; I was willing to perish in that challenge, without complaining, and with no regrets. I no longer recognized myself; I had become fearless, or maybe just brazen. Love destroys your painstakingly built foundations, I thought sadly, or perhaps it just creates some more strong ones, provided someone helps with the task. I had no certainty about Sebastian Mc Laine’s real feelings. Was the man I loved a moody and unstable person, or was he that unbearably sweet and romantic man of my dreams?

“I don’t want to be disturbed any more, Melisande. Social calls must be strictly forbidden. Especially from Alan and from people of his kind.”

“You have no respect for your cousin, a priest on top of that? You're really godless,” I said steadily.

He pressed his lips, pretending to be angry when he actually was trying not to laugh.

“You don’t know my cousin, Melisande. Otherwise, you’d run away from him as fast as you could. He’s a clergyman to the marrow.”

“And what's wrong with that?” I asked.

“Clergymen are deeply intolerant, Melisande. Fortunately, most priests aren’t like him. Alan talks about forgiveness, but he’s reluctant to grant it. He’s ambitious, convinced that he’s always right, and that the Sacred Scriptures must be respected literally. He’s not fit to approach God.”

To me he seemed an honest and helpful man,” I said, struggling not to laugh.

“You're always ready to think well of everyone, Melisande. To me my cousin is... A ball and chain, just as he considers me.”

His face was impassive, but I saw the glow of a fire hidden under the dying ashes. Sebastian Mc Laine was an unhappy man, devastated by the pain of old betrayals, and he seemed angry with the whole world. And I was ready, and even happy to take his pain upon me. For him, I was willing to revolutionize my world, strengthened by a love that could fly if he’d let me.

“Why don’t you talk to him? Maybe you can clear the air...” I said slowly. “Misunderstandings rapidly become communication barriers, but if you find the right key...”

“Walls can be climbed, Melisande,” he conceded, with a small smile. “Provided they aren’t topped by barbed wire... And in this case they are. Alan wants to mould me, transform me into his creature and turn me into what he wants me to be. Love is acceptance. A total, absolute and self-sacrificing emotion.”

My eyes ran to the window behind him. The sun was sluggish that morning, and it sent a lazy light into the room. What a dream to be able to see it in its magnificence. Yellow, orange, and red at dawn and sunset, sometimes scattered with gold and purple, until it disappeared into the night.

I met Sebastian's eyes and it almost seemed as though he could read my mind, and understand the nature of my thoughts. I was almost embarrassed, as if he had stripped me.

It was a guilty joy that led me to revel in the new intimacy between us. He didn’t want to see anyone.

Except me.

“You've been generous with me,” I said impetuously. “Let me repay you. You can trust me. I won’t judge you. Never. What makes you believe that you don’t need anyone in the world? We all need someone.” “Not everyone, actually,” he denied, kindly. “Hermits are fine on their own. However, I have no ghosts to vanquish. I dissolved them in acid a long time ago. Not even my worst memories can stand me, I'm afraid.”

“So you’re fine on your own,” I summarized, in a silence full of embarrassment and discomfort. He broke the silence.

“Let's say I'm not alone at the moment. You aren’t thinking of abandoning me, are you, Melisande Bruno?” He winked at me, almost in a conniving manner. I laughed, in spite of myself.

“I'm strongly connected to you, sir. You know my deepest secrets, with which you can blackmail me forever,” I observed in a light tone.

“But you stay because you want to, not because you're in debt with me,” he said furiously.

Again, the sky thickened with dark clouds, swollen with rain, black as dark sins.

There was the sun I loved so much. His smile sprang up through the clouds, slow and timid at first, then it widened to fill the entire sky, radiant and glowing. Without Borders. Whatever happened I would stay by him, for as long as he wanted me to. I would let myself be warmed up by those rays until I got enough sun to prepare for the hard and cold winter of his absence. I wasn’t stupid, I was aware of my insecure position in that house. I wasn’t Coralie, endowed with a legendary and undeniable beauty. Nor did I have her appeal, so typically French and exotic. I was an insecure and tired girl, who had fallen from the sky into a land that I had fallen in love with instantly, as barren and surprising as the owner of Midnight Rose. Thanks to him, I had experienced the first dreams of my life. Thanks to him, I had almost glimpsed the colours. Thanks to him, there was a promise of colour in my life.

“Mrs Mc Millian?”

“Yes, my dear?”

We had just finished dinner and after clearing the table, we had stopped to watch the sunset. Mrs Mc Millian seemed stunned by that magnificent view; I, limited by my handicap, could only pretend to share her wild excitement.

“Why doesn’t Mr Mc Laine speak to his cousin, Father Alan?” I longed to ask her that question all afternoon, hoping she wouldn’t think I was being too indiscreet. There was no other way to ask her, so after discarding my various options I chose to ask her a direct question, without beating around the bush.

She was silent, and I instantly regretted the question. I stepped back, still standing in front of the French window, like a blind person. After all, I was.

“I’m sorry... I shouldn’t have...”

She stopped me, raising her hand, in a gesture of slight dissent. “It’s an old story, not a secret. Had you been to town, you would have already heard it. Go for a walk in town, one of these days. You always spend your days off here... It's a shame for such a young creature...” She glanced at me, before staring into the night that was falling rapidly upon us. “Mr Mc Laine is a complicated man with a contorted mind; he’s intelligent and self-destructive. He shouldn’t exclude Father Alan from his life. His cousin is really fond of him. For years, since I've been working here, he’s been coming to see him, trying to find a connection, and a way to make up with him.” She exhaled, and then breathed in slowly. “He wants to save him and won’t let his rejection stop him.”

“Save him from what?” My voice was just a murmur.

Mrs Mc Millian looked at me. “From himself, of course.” She moved away from the French window, and began to move around the kitchen, arranging dishes and cutlery. “Mr Mc Millian has to change his course. The one he has been following for years has forced him to suffer immobility. It's a backward journey that doesn’t bring him anywhere; it’s just a constant reminder of the accident.”

“But why does he talk about a betrayal?” I inquired carefully. The woman's loyalty towards Sebastian was undeniable, and I didn’t want to make her criticize or judge him. I was looking for a reason and perhaps there were none, apart from the injured spirit of a man condemned to depend upon others for the rest of his life.

The woman looked in my eyes, as if she wanted to understand my most intimate secrets, my real motives. Something in my upset gaze must have convinced her, because I could see that she was moved.

“Miss Bruno... Mr Mc Laine has just one weakness. He can’t forget Coralie Reed, that’s all.”

That answer was the last one I expected and it was like a blow to my head.

“Even after such a long time...” I dared, avoiding her wise look.

“There are loves that go beyond time and reason. Even beyond ourselves, our future, and our own happiness. It's as if the world, our world, has frozen in a certain moment, preventing us from moving onward.”

“But what does all this have to do with Father Alan?” I inquired.

“He is a deeply religious man of God who has invited his cousin to forgive. But Mr Mc Laine is just a man,” she replied, with a quiet reasoning.

“So Alan's only fault is that he suggested that his cousin try to forget Coralie, and forgive her for choosing another man,” I synthesized aloud.

Mrs Mc Millian helped me clear up as she started talking again. “Coralie Reed is dull and shallow. She didn’t love Mr Mc Laine. She loved the most sought after bachelor of the county,” she said bitterly, almost with a poisonous anger. In her voice I could hear the boundless affection for her boss, like a mother for the son she never had. She left him the day after the accident, although many claim he was the one who left her because he was devastated by his infirmity.”

“Maybe that’s so. He’s so complicated... Maybe he was just testing her...”

“No, Miss Bruno,” the woman exclaimed, resentfully. “I doubt it. And if it was really a test, she failed it by a long run. In two months’ time she was married to young Davenport, The Master’s best friend.”

“Two months?”

Mrs Mc Millian assumed a philosophical air, though she was brooding with anger at the thought of the insult suffered by her employer.

“Exactly. Two months. Definitely not the behaviour of a woman in love.”

I thought about Davenport junior, whom I had met briefly along with his wife. He was so... dull. He couldn’t compete with Sebastian. In no way. Even relegated to a wheelchair, he moved the world, barking orders, piercing everyone with a simple glance, dazzling everyone with his immense vitality. No one could compete with him.

“Poor Sebastian,” I said with a sigh.

Mrs Mc Millian didn’t seem upset by my familiarity, more so she seemed comforted by it. “Miss Bruno... he needs someone to trust... again. Kyle has become a shell of a man. And he stays here just because there is no way to replace him. He doesn’t trust his cousin... He just has us two. He must trust us, do you understand me? You don’t intend to leave, do you?”

“I would never do that, ma'am,” I said, almost offended

“But you’re young, my dear. And pretty. Very much so,” she added with a knowing air. “And when it happens...”

“Mrs Mc Millian, I’ve no wedding plans. Not in the immediate future, at least. So you shouldn’t doubt my loyalty towards Mr Mc Laine. It’s equal to yours.” Indeed, more, I added silently.

She brightened. “Wonderful! That’s great news, Miss... I knew I could count on you... I had some doubts, but... now they’re gone.”

“You're priceless, Mrs Mc Millian,” I remarked, smiling at her cheerfulness. She acted like a lioness with her cub, I thought. She was fiercely attached to him, ready to give her life to defend him, and she was also overflowing with life, cheer, and enthusiasm.

In bed, later, I closed my eyes tight hoping, with all the passion of my daring wishes, to dream of Sebastian. It didn’t happen. I dropped into a deep sleep, as dark as my frustrated hopes.