deer doubles back on its own tracks and runs through a stream as it tries to hide its scent. We come upon it and the dogs surround it. ’Tis a magnificent hart, with beautiful antlers; the animal heaves in exhaustion. I wish that it could be saved, yet I know ’tis impossible.
Signor Lodovico dismounts and approaches the beast, raising his sword. I can’t look. The horns blow the morte in celebration. My lady directs one of the huntsmen to cut the deer apart and divide the meat. The crows in the trees by the stream start cawing for the carrion.
I’m surprised to find that I am crying. Why is this? I’ve never cried before at the death of a hart. Hunting is a part of my life at the court. I love galloping across a field, Pegaso and I together.
The scene around me takes on a strange aspect. ’Tis as if I’m gazing at a painting and not part of this reality anymore. I have felt this before and don’t like it. I blink as if it might dispel my unease, except it makes things worse and now my vision is blurred as sorrow for the deer fills my eyes.
Fern wiped her tears and stared at the field beyond the garden. There was a stream shaded by willows. Could it be the same stream where that magnificent animal had been hacked apart? She could still smell the blood. Footsteps echoed on the flagstones. Luca arrived, carrying a tray with a bottle and three glasses.
‘Has it happened again?’ he asked, concern in his voice. ‘You’ve gone as white as a sheet.’
She hugged her arms. ‘I’m not mad, you know, although some of what I’m experiencing could be attributed to trauma, I suppose. There’s usually a smell, or a sound that triggers it. Your mother thinks Cecilia might have been in the fire that destroyed the Barco. But I’m not re-experiencing that, thank God. I’m re-living Cecilia’s life. I really don’t think I’m making her up – she’s too real.’
‘And you’re scared by her?’
‘Well, wouldn’t you be?’
He held up his hands. ‘Absolutely.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I do find her fascinating,’ she said more calmly. ‘I’m torn between wanting to know what happens to her and not liking the way she takes over my mind.’
‘So it’s not the girl who scares you. It’s the fact that you can’t control when you’re having these flash-backs.’
‘Sounds as if you believe me.’
‘Fern, I never doubted you for one minute.’ He reached for the wine. ‘However, whether Cecilia is a figment of your imagination or not is something I still need to get my head around.’
‘Oh.’ Fern felt her eyes drawn to the area across the field where she was sure she’d seen the deer killed. Where Cecilia had seen the deer killed . She had to find a way of separating herself from the other woman. So difficult, though, when her thoughts had meshed with Cecilia’s. ‘Maybe I should leave Italy.’
Luca gave her a searching look, then pulled the cork from the bottle. ‘Wouldn’t that be running away?’ He filled the three glasses.
‘You’re right, of course. Besides, I love it here and I’m not due back at work until the end of the month. It’s just that I can’t keep on like this, you know. It’s dangerous. I mean, I could be driving along a road then suddenly find myself back in the past.’
‘Funnily enough, I had the same thought myself. You need to find a way to control these visions. As far as I can gather, they seem to happen when you’re alone.’
‘That’s true. So far. Are you suggesting I should never be by myself? That would be hard, particularly as I enjoy my own company and, in fact, thrive on it usually. Especially when I’m painting.’ She lifted her glass and took a sip of Prosecco, savouring the sparkling fruitiness.
Vanessa came down the steps to the garden with a tall dark-haired girl, dressed in jodhpurs and a white shirt. Luca stood and pulled out two chairs. ‘This is my sister, Chiara. She’s been looking forward to
Signor Lodovico dismounts and approaches the beast, raising his sword. I can’t look. The horns blow the morte in celebration. My lady directs one of the huntsmen to cut the deer apart and divide the meat. The crows in the trees by the stream start cawing for the carrion.
I’m surprised to find that I am crying. Why is this? I’ve never cried before at the death of a hart. Hunting is a part of my life at the court. I love galloping across a field, Pegaso and I together.
The scene around me takes on a strange aspect. ’Tis as if I’m gazing at a painting and not part of this reality anymore. I have felt this before and don’t like it. I blink as if it might dispel my unease, except it makes things worse and now my vision is blurred as sorrow for the deer fills my eyes.
Fern wiped her tears and stared at the field beyond the garden. There was a stream shaded by willows. Could it be the same stream where that magnificent animal had been hacked apart? She could still smell the blood. Footsteps echoed on the flagstones. Luca arrived, carrying a tray with a bottle and three glasses.
‘Has it happened again?’ he asked, concern in his voice. ‘You’ve gone as white as a sheet.’
She hugged her arms. ‘I’m not mad, you know, although some of what I’m experiencing could be attributed to trauma, I suppose. There’s usually a smell, or a sound that triggers it. Your mother thinks Cecilia might have been in the fire that destroyed the Barco. But I’m not re-experiencing that, thank God. I’m re-living Cecilia’s life. I really don’t think I’m making her up – she’s too real.’
‘And you’re scared by her?’
‘Well, wouldn’t you be?’
He held up his hands. ‘Absolutely.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I do find her fascinating,’ she said more calmly. ‘I’m torn between wanting to know what happens to her and not liking the way she takes over my mind.’
‘So it’s not the girl who scares you. It’s the fact that you can’t control when you’re having these flash-backs.’
‘Sounds as if you believe me.’
‘Fern, I never doubted you for one minute.’ He reached for the wine. ‘However, whether Cecilia is a figment of your imagination or not is something I still need to get my head around.’
‘Oh.’ Fern felt her eyes drawn to the area across the field where she was sure she’d seen the deer killed. Where Cecilia had seen the deer killed . She had to find a way of separating herself from the other woman. So difficult, though, when her thoughts had meshed with Cecilia’s. ‘Maybe I should leave Italy.’
Luca gave her a searching look, then pulled the cork from the bottle. ‘Wouldn’t that be running away?’ He filled the three glasses.
‘You’re right, of course. Besides, I love it here and I’m not due back at work until the end of the month. It’s just that I can’t keep on like this, you know. It’s dangerous. I mean, I could be driving along a road then suddenly find myself back in the past.’
‘Funnily enough, I had the same thought myself. You need to find a way to control these visions. As far as I can gather, they seem to happen when you’re alone.’
‘That’s true. So far. Are you suggesting I should never be by myself? That would be hard, particularly as I enjoy my own company and, in fact, thrive on it usually. Especially when I’m painting.’ She lifted her glass and took a sip of Prosecco, savouring the sparkling fruitiness.
Vanessa came down the steps to the garden with a tall dark-haired girl, dressed in jodhpurs and a white shirt. Luca stood and pulled out two chairs. ‘This is my sister, Chiara. She’s been looking forward to
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