Epilogue

Clare Baker:

I’m doing pretty well. Geoff and Clare Sanders are very good to me. Geoff is gentle, supportive, an encouraging Dad, and Clare, well, she’s Mum, and Nurse, and, everything I need, I suppose. She’s supervised my meds. Honestly, I’ve had no physical craving, so we’ve tapered the meds off quite fast. The Doctor was uncomfortable, but trusted Clare to keep an eye on things. My head, well, I do go off track from time to time, but Clare’s taught me ways of derailing the negative tracks. Then there’s the cafe. Friendly, cheerful, supportive people. Someone has an ‘off’ day? No trouble.

So here, I’m going along, earning a bit of money, helping out in the house. Every so often Geoff’s daughter, Penny, comes with her husband David. David’s interesting. It’s like he can read your mind, sometimes. Both he and Penny are slim. They come for supper sometimes. Kat’s another visitor, too, sometimes with her husband, Harry, who’s a lot older than her, often with one or other or both of her children. Aibhilin is eight or so, red headed like her mother, and very pretty. Diamuid is nearly one, and toddling unsteadily. I’m told they have gifts like their mother. I’m not sure I understand what Kat says about them ‘walking in Overworld’, but I’ve got to admit; between the three of them, I’m getting better all the time.

When I have the chance, I visit the Woods. Padley Gorge is just outside the city limits, and is the home of some – I was going to say, strange, but unusual is better – people.

Anyway, I think that’s brought things up to date. One day, Kat came in the cafe.

“Hey, Clare! Can you get the weekend off?”

“Dunno. Just a sec.” Terry wasn’t in at that moment, but one of the other girls was in charge. “Tina, can I get the weekend off? Kat asked.”

“Sure! No problem. I’ll find someone to take your spot, or I’ll work myself.”

“Okay!” I turned back to Kat, “Yes, I’m off. What’s happening?”

“There’s been an upset in the Woods, but it’s okay now, and the Princess has arranged for a special celebration Saturday night.”

“Upset?”

“Don’t want to talk about it now. Everything’s settled anyway, but all the Friends of the Wood are invited. You know Padraig’s working there as a Ranger now?”

“I heard something, but I haven’t seen him for ages. Are you sure I’m invited? I mean...”

“Of course you’re invited. You’re a Friend.”

So there it was. I’d been to parties in the Wood, and it was worth swapping shifts at the cafe to go to one. Kat took us, late on Friday. We’d be there all weekend, she said. There was a little party Friday night. I said ‘hello’ to people I recognised, and was introduced to some new faces. Chloe and Burt – the druids, I was informed. I knew nothing about druids.

“We are in touch with plant life, and we can often influence or heal. Plants have souls, you know.”

Well, okay. They obviously fit in here in some way. It seems I do, too, in a different way. Anyway, the party space is a clearing, usually occupied by hamadryads. When they change, the space opens up. The music started. I don’t know about music, really, and this is not something you’ll hear in a big store in town. Pipes, you know, like a whistle, something a bit like a violin, maybe, drums, that sort of thing. But a recognisable rhythm. I was dragged, reluctantly, into the fray. Soon, though, I found it was easy to follow the steps, weaving through the other dancers, and I was enjoying myself. It was a mixture. Humans, certainly, a few. Tree spirits, most of whom I recognised. Elves? Yes, I was sure there were elves there – tall, slim, those pointed ears. They had weapons. Swords, a couple had axes like something out of a video game, double headed. And I was sure there were male and female elves, both armed. There was the Princess and her Consort. And Padraig. Something stirred in me when I saw him. But surely he wouldn’t be interested in me, would he?

I went to get some food, and a cup – well, a gourd of some sort – of wine, and sat to enjoy it. I finished the food and was sipping at the wine when someone sat beside me. I recognised her, of course. Phoebe, with that spiky, electric blue hair.

“You’re wearing clothes,” she said.

“I know,” I smiled. I looked around. I wasn’t the only one dressed, but nearly everyone else was naked, including the Princess. Even the warriors had on only a weapon belt or baldric to carry their weapon. “Okay.” I stood and stripped, carefully folding my things and placing them neatly out of the way.

“Don’t go,” Phoebe told me. “I’d like a chat if I may?”

I sat. I suppose I slumped, actually. “You’re going to warn me off Padraig?” I asked, “I can’t think he’d be interested in me, anyway.”

“Oh, not at all! I came to tell you, if you like him, you’ll have to make the approach. He knows I don’t mind him enjoying other girls. But he can’t quite get over his upbringing.”

“I don’t know...”

“Look, I can’t bond with him. He needs a human mate. I want him to have a human mate, one who won’t mind sharing him. At least dance with him.”

“Okay.” I sat with Phoebe, sipping my wine. I like Phoebe. I finished the wine, and the dance was ending.

“Go on. Ask him.” I looked at Phoebe, who was smiling, nodding, and pointing.

Padraig:

There were several people there I didn’t know well, more than usual for a Friday night. I’d caught a glimpse of a girl I thought I recognised, but didn’t follow up. I was in demand. That’s not a boast, by the way, human Friends of the Wood are usually in demand by the nymphs. The dance came to an end, one of those where you change partners. In the brief hiatus afterward, a hand touched my arm.

“Padraig,” I looked round and saw Clare, who looked nervous. “Will you dance with me?” she asked.

“Certainly!” I offered her my arm, which she took, and we took a place as the music started again. It was the Woodland version of a waltz, and she flowed into my arms. Now – though previously I’ve not been a great dancer – I’ve danced with Phoebe, I’ve danced with dryads and hamadryads, other humans and even elves, and it’s been great fun. Dancing with Phoebe has been special, as you’ll have gathered, but somehow, dancing with Clare was special too. If not an identical feeling to that with Phoebe, none the less, she fitted in my arms.

The dance ended, we parted and exchanged the formal courtesy. “Padraig,” Clare spoke tentatively, “can we talk?”

“Surely. Let’s get another drink, and go and sit somewhere quiet.”

We did that, finding a fallen tree-trunk. The wine was rich and red. I’m not sure what it’s made from – berries perhaps – but it’s pretty strong, and lacks the bitter aftertaste of some cheap reds.

“Okay – what’s on your mind, Clare? We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Thank you.” She was silent for some time, gathering her thoughts. “You know I came here originally to die?”

“I wasn’t sure, whether it was that or an accidental overdose.”

“Before that, my life, well, it wasn’t a life, really. I don’t know how many men had me, either by force or by payment. Taking drugs, that was a way of escaping my home life. When I woke up in hospital, I was angry. Angry that I was still alive, that I had to go back to hell. And I hurt. Physically, and mentally. Spiritually, too, I suppose. But thanks to Kat, Penny, the other Clare, everyone here, it’s like being reborn.”

“You’re a different person, now, Clare.”

She nodded. “That’s true. But ... this is home. Here, and with everyone here. There’s something missing, though.”