Over the following weeks, Bertram and Mellissa began to settle into their life together. They spent their days in the walled garden of Clayhill planting flowers, pulling up weeds and cutting back bushes. Their evenings were spent discussing books they had read in the library over dinner and a glass of wine. Some days, Mellissa was so exhausted by her new role that she slept for hours on end. On these days, Bertram would pace up and down outside her room wondering whether he should enter and check if she was ok, but never quite having the courage to do so. Mellissa protected her privacy fiercely, and he didn’t want to spoil the blossoming relationship between them. So, he remained outside her room worrying and smoking cigarettes until he heard her move inside, then he would slope off to his own room exhausted but relieved. He never told her what he did.

Slowly, the warm September days crept into Autumn and like the turning of the leaves a change occurred that would bring new possibilities that neither could have foreseen.

“Mellissa, Mellissa,” Bertram shouted as he pounded up the stairs towards the library. “Mellissa, are you in here?” he said throwing open the library door. He didn’t know why he asked really, if she wasn’t gardening, she was in the library reading books.

“What is it Bertram?” Mellissa said, getting up from her spot by the fire.

“There’s a door, in the garden. A door, just standing there.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I was just clearing some shrubs from behind the walled garden and I got this strange feeling that something was behind me. I thought someone had finally found their way into Clayhill but when I turned, well, there was this wooden door standing upright as though it had been there forever.”

“Are you sure Bertram, maybe you banged your head or something? You should sit for a while.”

“I’ve not banged my head Mellissa. Just come, come with me,” Bertram said, pulling at her arm. “It might disappear if we stand here discussing whether I’m concussed or not.”

Mellissa looked at him with a bemused expression on her face. “OK, OK. I’m coming.”

In his excitement, Bertram forgot himself and grabbed hold of Mellissa’s hand, pulling her behind him. He avoided physical contact with her as much as possible most days, not able to cope with the emotional rollercoaster of her touch. This time, for the first time, he didn’t need to take a seat after their contact. He kept her hand firmly in his grasp and they ran back downstairs and out into the garden to the spot where the door had appeared.

“Look, there it is,” Bertram said, pointing to the door. His eyes were wide with excitement and wonder.

“Where? I don’t see anything,” Mellissa said, looking between the spot Bertram was pointing to and back again.

“There, it’s right there,” Bertram insisted.

“I’m sorry, Bertram, but I see nothing but grass and the forest behind. Perhaps we should go back inside.”

Bertram dropped Mellissa’s hand and approached the door, rapping on it with his knuckles. “It’s definitely here, I can feel it. I’m not going mad, Mellissa. I swear to you, it’s right here.”

“Bertram, do you know how crazy this sounds? I don’t see anything.”

Bertram turned to Mellissa, noticing how her gaze fell beyond the door as if it wasn’t there at all. He bit at his fingernail, perhaps he had bumped his head? He turned back to the door, half expecting it to have disappeared, but it was still there as bold as a peacock displaying its feathers in mating season.

“I don’t know what to say. Maybe there’s a reason why you can’t see it, Mellissa. Maybe I’m the only one who can?”

Mellissa looked at Bertram thoughtfully. “Where are the keys I gave you Bertram?” she asked after a moment.

“Here,” Bertram said striding over to the fork and spade he’d placed against the wall. He bent down to pick them up. “I dropped them on the floor when I ran to get you.”

“Those keys were given to me to pass on to you. When I arrived at Clayhill, I assumed that they were to open doors within the manor. Perhaps there’s more to it than that?”

Bertram blew out a breath. It hadn’t even occurred to him that one of the keys on the bunch Mellissa had given him, all those months ago, would open this door. Though, thinking about it, it was the only logical explanation.

“So, what are you saying?” sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“I’m saying, that those keys were meant for you. If you can see a door there, maybe you should see if one of those keys will open it.”

“But which one?”

“I’ve no idea, just start with one and work your way through the bunch.”

“OK.” Bertram looked at the assortment of keys in his hands, wondering which one he should choose first. Then, just as he was about to randomly select one, he saw a faint golden glow encircle a silver Yale key. As he peered closer at it, the light surrounding it seemed to pulse as though it had its own heartbeat. Without contemplating any of the others, Bertram pulled it free and approached the door. “I think this is it,” Bertram said.

“How do you know that?” Mellissa asked, giving him the strangest look.

“Just a feeling.” He was uncertain now that the light had winked out.

Mellissa remained quiet beside him. He realised how utterly insane he must sound. But then again, what wasn’t completely nuts about the last few months? If he could accept what Mellissa had told him, accept her in his home without so much as batting an eyelid, then he figured she owed him this moment of madness.

The nearer he got to the door, the surer he was that he’d chosen the correct key. With the key pinched between his finger and thumb, he lay his palm on the warm wood. It was the strangest feeling. He felt a physical reaction, an almost euphoric feeling. Like a person gets when they’re in the first flush of love, or have won a race at school. It was as though he could conquer the world suddenly. He knew it was the right choice.

He hesitated momentarily, glancing back at Mellissa who was still looking at him strangely.

“Go on, Bertram. Let’s see what happens,” she urged him.

Nodding, he turned back to the door and quickly, before he lost the nerve, placed the key in the lock and turned. He heard a click, then an almost human sigh. He stepped back afraid of what would happen next.

“Did it work?” Mellissa said, peering over Bertram’s shoulder.

Bertram loosened a breath. “Yes,” he whispered. He saw the key dangling from the lock and wondered whether Mellissa could see it too.

“The key, it’s floating in mid-air!”

A flood of relief coursed through Bertram, she must believe him now. How could she not?

“Of course, I believe you,” Mellissa said, before pursing her lips.

Bertram, too pre-occupied by the fact that it had worked, didn’t notice that she’d somehow managed to read his thoughts.

“What should I do now?” Fear of the unknown was like an ugly growth on his back. It held him back. He’d never been very brave, curious certainly. Brave? No. He recalled the time, when as a child, he got stuck up the willow tree that grew by the brook at his grandfather’s cottage. He’d been curious enough to climb up it. Enjoying the exhilaration that he felt when he reached the top. He’d stayed up there for some time, imagining what life would be like as a monkey, or squirrel, or some other creature who spent its time living amongst the branches and leaves of the trees around the world.

But his curiosity didn’t last long. When the wind caused the branch he was standing on to sway a bit too much, he found himself rigid with fear. Then the tears came, hot and fast, and he cursed his eight-year-old self for ever climbing up the tree. For an hour he was stuck, unable to peel himself away from the trunk. It took his ageing grandfather a great deal of coaxing, bribery, and finally, when none of that worked, the threat of leaving him out all night, to give him the incentive to climb back down. He would never forget what Sidney said to him when his feet finally landed on solid ground… “Bertram, there will be times when you will need to make a choice. You can choose to be brave or be a prisoner to your own fears. Today, you chose to be brave. Remember that feeling, it will do you good in the future.”

With his grandfather’s voice echoing inside his head, he didn’t wait for Mellissa to answer. Bertram made a choice and pushed open the door.

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