‘Did I break it?’ she asked, unwilling to take her eyes off it, just in case.
‘I’m not sure.’ Lieffe sat forward. ‘Usually it only takes a couple of seconds before it—’
‘Shh!’ Evie hushed him suddenly. ‘Can you hear that?’ She pressed her ear to the wall, careful not to disturb the sweet. It was faint, but unmistakably there. ‘He’s playing. Wherever he is, he’s playing.’
Evie felt relief wash over her. He was alive after all, and surely well if he was playing his violin. The sound gradually grew louder, and she wondered how she had lived so long without it. It made every bone in her body resonate and every nerve-ending fizz. It made her feel alive again.
‘He’s good.’ Lieffe smiled.
‘He’s extraordinary.’
Evie laid a palm on the wall, but something behind it clunked, and she snatched her hand away as the orange sweet cracked down the middle. She crouched down to inspect the broken sweet closely, but as she did so, the wall followed suit and cracked down its centre too, so that half of the sweet was on either side, like tiny handles on a very large door.
‘Step back, Evie,’ Lieffe said, knowing the wall’s temperamental nature. He’d seen it do a great deal of things, all of them unusual and unexpected.
Evie heeded his advice and moved to the back of the room, watching as each side of the wall slid apart, revealing a dark gap about the size of …
‘An escalator. That’s the sound of an escalator!’ she exclaimed. ‘Can you hear it?’ The sound of the sliding metal stairs was one Evie had become accustomed to during her year of commuting, and she knew that was what they were hearing now.
Lieffe sniffed the breeze that was flowing into the room. ‘Can you smell burgers?’ he asked, and Evie laughed.
‘Yes, I can!’ She closed her eyes, remembering that night in the station and how perfect and uncomplicated it had been. When she opened them again, she saw something pushing through the darkness, getting closer and closer until the escalator she had heard came into sight. The moving handrails lined up perfectly with the gap in the wall, and there on the bottom steps, its pages getting awfully creased, was a book. Evie rushed to pick it up. It was the exact copy of the book she’d been reading the night she’d first heard Vincent.
‘I think he’s waiting for you,’ Lieffe said.
‘I’ve been waiting for him,’ Evie replied as she stepped on to the stairs and they carried her upwards, towards the sound of Vincent’s playing.
The Wedding
Planning their wedding had been exceptionally easy, as Jim and Evie had left it up to their mothers. The wedding wasn’t really for them, after all. The worst was over, and whatever their wedding day had in store for them, they would face it together, hand in hand.
Evie’s heart had been weighing heavy in her chest since the day Vincent had left, and every day without him was another day her heart had to bear that burden. At first it had seemed bearable, but she’d not counted on her love growing and growing with nowhere to go, so that her heart just got heavier and heavier as the days went by. Now, sat at a dressing table in the Summers’ house, fixing her makeup in the mirror, the idea of Vincent standing at the end of the aisle instead of Jim hit her and made her heart swell near to bursting point. She held on to the edge of the table to steady herself and knocked a pot of brushes to the floor. Eleanor tutted but didn’t make a move to help. Instead, Evie composed herself, leaned down and retrieved the brushes, some of which had rolled under the hem of her wedding dress. Eleanor continued to tut.
‘You’re marrying one of the most handsome men this world has ever seen, your wedding dress has been designed by one of the greats, everything’s been paid for by James’s father and you’re still miserable. What on earth do we have to do to make you happy?’
Evie tolerated Eleanor’s attempts to make her feel ungrateful. It only reminded her of just how grateful she was that things could indeed have been far worse but Evie knew deep down that that didn’t mean she had no reason to be sad.
‘I’m grateful for everything I have, Mother, I truly am, but that’s not to say everything I have is what I desire. You know I’d give everything up if it meant I could have just one more chance at being who I want to be.’ She wasn’t trying to convince her mother; she simply wished Eleanor understood, but when she glimpsed the disgusted look on the older woman’s face, she wasn’t sure why she bothered explaining at all.
‘Then why did you agree to all of this? You could be out there now, living in your own filth with that hooligan, without any money, trying to fulfil those silly dreams of yours. Tell me, why ever did you give it up if it was all so glorious?’
‘Firstly, you didn’t give me much of a choice. Secondly …’ Evie glanced out of the window. Eddie was laughing with Jim over champagne on the lawn, while the other guests milled about in their fur coats and finery under the holly-clad marquee. Eddie looked excited. He was on the brink of a huge change in his life, and Evie couldn’t have been happier that she was able to give him that chance. ‘Actually, there is no secondly. You never gave me a choice.’ She looked her mother in the eye.
‘You had a year.’ Eleanor brushed down her lilac dress, not impressed with where this conversation was headed. ‘Be grateful for that.’
‘Yes. I had a year. A whole wonderful year to see the life I’d been missing out on and the life I could have had.’ Evie stood up. Eleanor had told her that if she wasn’t so plump she might have looked beautiful, but looking sweet would have to do. The cut of the dress made her bust look phenomenal, and a jewelled band cinched in her waist so that the Cinderellaesque skirt appeared even fuller. She reached behind her head and pulled the veil over her face, but her stare didn’t falter when she said, ‘If only I’d had a mother and not a jailer.’
A few minutes before the wedding, just after Eleanor had stormed out of the Summers’ living room, which Jane Summer had kindly dubbed ‘the bridal suite’ for the day, Eddie came to check on his sister.
‘Oh Evie,’ he gasped. ‘You look … incredible.’ He rushed to take her hands, but dared not hug her in case he crumpled the fabric or stood on the hem.
‘Eddie, just the person I need,’ Evie said, wincing as her heart gained yet more weight and swayed in her chest.
‘What is it?’ he asked, sensing that all was not right.
‘I need you to tell Jim just to wait another …’ she checked the clock on the wall, ‘fifteen minutes before getting everyone seated.’
‘Of course. But why?’
Evie was already gathering up her huge dress and attempting to run towards the door in her stupid white heels with her stupid heavy heart. ‘Jim will understand.’ And with an apologetic look, she was gone.
Evie ran out through the front door, astoundingly undetected. As the minutes had tick-tocked closer to the pivotal point of the day, the guests had filtered through the house to the garden, where white seats had been placed in neat rows, an archway of roses stood at the end of a perfectly straight aisle, and champagne and canapés were seemingly unlimited. It was far too cold for an outdoor wedding, but Eleanor, who wanted to ensure Evie didn’t have enough time to change her mind, had insisted that it happen as soon as possible, and the short notice meant the venue had to be the Summers’ house, since all the churches had been booked up months in advance.
She ran to her own house, which was only a short distance away through a small wood that separated the Snow acres from the Summer acres. She was a pure white cloud against the iced green and she moved with great speed and determination, despite her heels sinking into the ground every few steps and her heart thudding up and down with all its weight. When she reached the house, though, she realised with horror that she had no key. It was then, through the frosted window, that she saw a flash of red. Evie wondered if their house had been broken into but then remembered there had recently been a new addition to the Snows’ staff.
‘Clementine? Clementine!’ She could see her breath in front of her
, reaching out to the floating red ball that grew gradually larger as Clementine Frost rushed to the door.
‘Whatever is the matter?’ the girl asked underneath the safety chain stretched across the gap. Her voice was singsong and sweet, her face round and unspeakably kind. Evie could see why Eddie had taken a shine to her.
‘I’m Evie Snow, Eleanor and Edward’s daughter. I’m getting married today and I’m afraid I’ve … er … left something here that I desperately need. Can I come in?’
Clementine was already closing the door to unlatch the chain and she welcomed Evie in immediately. ‘How did you escape unseen?’ she asked, leaning out of the door to check that no one had followed.
‘Escape?’ Evie laughed hysterically, her heart still racing from the run to the house. ‘Whatever do you—’
‘I’ve worked here long enough to know what your mother is like. If she knew you weren’t in that house doing everything she said, she’d most likely have your head on a spike.’
‘You’re wrong,’ Evie said. ‘She’d definitely have my head on a spike!’ They laughed, and their laughter partially warmed the icy air of the house.
‘I’m Clementine.’ She held out a dainty hand for Evie to shake, but instead Evie gently embraced her, careful not to suffocate her with reams of white fabric.
‘I know. Eddie’s told me all about you.’
Clementine grinned. ‘Eddie’s told me all about you too. Do you want a cup of tea? Some water? Anything to eat?’ She was already in the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards, searching for something to offer.
‘No, no, honestly, I’m fine. I won’t be more than five minutes. If I’m gone any longer, I won’t be able to get married because my mother will have murdered me.’ Evie squeezed her dress through the kitchen, not taking any care to make sure it didn’t snag, and opened the back door. ‘Oh, and Clementine.’ She looked back over her shoulder, unable to turn around completely because of her full skirt. ‘If I get caught, I’ll tell Mother I snuck in through the back without you seeing. OK?’
Clementine sighed in relief. ‘You’ve done this before.’ It was a statement, not a question. She gave Evie an amused raise of her eyebrow and folded her arms, impressed.
‘With a mother like Eleanor? Of course I have!’
Clementine unhooked a piece of fabric from a kitchen drawer and said, ‘Thank you.’
‘Oh don’t be silly. Unfortunately, lying to my mother has become terribly necessary if I ever want to be some kind of happy,’ Evie admitted.
‘I’m sure! But actually,’ Clementine found Evie’s hand and squeezed it, ‘I meant for not being like her.’
Evie hobbled through the back door, down the steps of the porch and to the end of the garden. Nothing ever grew there. Her mother thought flowers were frivolous, and trees blocked out the sunlight, so the large garden was simply surrounded by one long, plain, boring hedge. She knelt down halfway along the hedge at the very foot of the garden, careful to lift her dress so that only her white tights got dirty. No one would see them. She snapped off a twig from the hedge and started to dig through the soil, creating a hole about the size of a bowling ball. Her hands shook as she set the twig down, and she took a few deep, cold breaths to steady herself. Then carefully she pressed her hands to her ribcage and gave a sharp push. Something clicked within her, and as she pulled her hands away, her chest opened up like a cabinet. Her ribcage parted like two doors, revealing a large, glowing heart that radiated so much warmth that the frost started to melt on the leaves in front of her and Evie’s nose and cheeks turned rosy.
Evie had never seen her heart before. It was red and shimmering, flecked with dots of black from every time she’d lied, cheated or been knowingly bad. But there were flecks of gold, too, from each time she’d been there for someone in need, when she’d done something selfless or tried her hardest to be the best version of herself. The colours of her heart represented the deeds she’d done, both good and bad, but the faint smell of treacle told her that overall, she had a sweet heart.
Gently she reached into her chest with one hand and wrapped her fingers around her heart as best she could, but her palm was too small to encompass it. She sucked in a breath, watching her lungs expand, then gave a twist and a tug. It came out in one go, and she held it in her cupped hands. It glowed harder in protest, and its colours swirled worriedly.
‘Shh,’ she hushed. ‘Everything’s going to be OK.’
The heart thumped louder, and one of Evie’s tears splashed on to its red surface. ‘I can’t give you to the man I love and yet I can’t give you to the man I’m marrying either. I won’t give you to someone just because I’m told to. You deserve more than that.’ She stroked the almost-glassy surface with her thumbs in smooth circles. ‘So I won’t give you to anyone at all. You deserve to have the chance I will never have. The chance to be anything you want to be.’
As she placed her still-beating heart in the hole she’d dug, there on its surface another golden fleck swirled into existence. It was then that she knew she was doing the right thing. Keeping her own heart when she’d already decided who it belonged to felt wrong, as if she was holding stolen possessions. No. Her heart was no longer hers, couldn’t be Vincent’s, and sadly, was never to be Jim’s. So quickly, she pulled the mounds of soil she’d dug out back into the hole on top of her still-beating heart. When she ran a hand over the dirt to smooth it and make it look undisturbed, she could feel a warm patch where her heart lay. She hoped no one would notice that and go digging.
She closed the doors of her empty chest, and while she felt hollow, she also felt complete. Her heart had rattled around its cage for too long, yearning to be with the man it belonged to. Now it had a permanent home where it would be safe and well looked after, without any danger of falling into the wrong hands.
Evie walked down the aisle towards Jim, arm in arm with her father. Edward Snow had barely looked at her since she was a toddler, and he didn’t make a special effort for her wedding day either, nor did Evie expect him to. She smiled, said her vows, they exchanged rings, and when the vicar gave the order, Evie kissed Jim for the first time, sealing their fate for good. Jim let her kiss him for as long as she felt necessary and made no sudden movements, unsure of how she was feeling. The last thing he wanted was to cause even more unnecessary hurt on her wedding day. As they walked back down the aisle, Jim squeezed her hand all the way, but it was only once they had their first dance as husband and wife that they had the chance to talk.
‘You didn’t kiss me back,’ Evie said, a little wounded.
‘No. I wasn’t sure how you were feeling. I … I’m worried about you.’ He held her closer to him as they slowly twirled around the floor of the warmly lit marquee with their family and friends watching.
‘Does it seem like you need to be?’ Evie looked up at him, the weight in her chest, now buried, leaving her feeling lighter.
Jim moved her away from him, taking her by the hand and spinning her under his arm, just the once. ‘You do seem surprisingly OK.’ He held her close again, careful not to push the boundaries.
‘We still have a life to lead. Either I lust after the life I want, knowing full well I can’t have it, or I get on with the one I have and make the most of it.’ Evie shrugged and rested her head on Jim’s shoulder. ‘It doesn’t mean it will always be easy. There will be times when it gets hard for both of us because of what’s happened, but we’re very lucky we’ve got each other.’
‘I feel lucky,’ he squeezed her, ‘but I also feel bad.’
Evie lifted her head to look at him. ‘None of what has happened is your fault, Jim. Just because you married the girl you love and got your way in some shape or form does not make you the bad guy. It just means you got away with fewer cuts and bruises than the rest of us, but you still got your fair share of hurt.’ She stroked his cheek, wishing she could take that worry out of his eyes and bury it along with her heart for good.
‘I feel bad for all of us. Especially ??
?’ Jim dared not say his name, but Evie knew who he meant.
‘He understood why this had to happen. He’ll manage. We all will.’
Jim let Evie’s eyes calm his thoughts, then he nodded.
‘Now, how about that kiss?’ Evie asked. ‘We are husband and wife after all. Our friends might start getting suspicious.’ She smiled, and Jim’s stomach flipped as he wondered how many times he’d imagined her asking him to kiss her. Gently he moved a fluffy caramel curl of hair that had caught in her eyelashes, then he tilted her chin upwards with his finger and kissed her with all the love he had.
Evie and Jim didn’t have a honeymoon. They didn’t feel it was necessary or appropriate. Instead, they found a house near the sea, as far away from their parents as possible, and packed their bags, ready to move in on New Year’s Day. The house had four bedrooms. One for them, one for guests, one for any potential children and one for a certain someone who they had promised not to leave behind.
‘Do you want me to come in with you?’ Evie and her brother stood outside the door to the living room in their parents’ house. As Evie squeezed Eddie’s hand, she could feel his heartbeat in the ends of his fingertips. ‘Eddie, you’re shaking. Don’t do this alone.’
‘No. No, I can’t tell you how ready I am for this. I’m not scared. I know things will be OK no matter what they say. Thanks to you.’ Eddie hugged his big sister for the millionth time since the wedding. Evie didn’t think he knew the extent of what she had given up for him, but he wasn’t stupid, and even just the inkling he had that Evie agreeing to marry Jim had something to do with him made him thank her every moment he could. Suddenly the boy who had once shied away from affection now embraced his beloved sister numerous times each day.
‘And now I can start the new year as who I want to be. Here goes!’ Eddie grinned.
‘I’ll be waiting right here.’ Evie pointed at her feet and stood very still, assuring him that she wouldn’t move from that spot until she saw him again.