12.9.1798 

"Dear Laurence, 

Times are bad, I know. But one day it will get better. It must get better one day. One day we will be happy together and nothing can separate us. One day there will only be happiness. I only wish that it will be soon. 

I am sorry that your Father is dead. I know you didn't like him and he didn't like me at all, but I always wished that you two could tolerate each other. This ending is terrible. Why can't you forgive him? Why could you never love him? Why did you hate him so much that you didn't even care about his life, only what it meant for your business? I don't know what else to say about this. Personally, I'm sad for both your parents, no matter how they behaved when they were alive. And I would be glad to know that you don't only have such terrible thoughts when you think about your Father. He may not have been a really good person, but at least he was a human being. It's really not good to hate dead people. Forgive them. Dead people can no longer do any harm. 

As for the Edevan Estate, you were right. I don't know if I should really tell you in a letter what happened, but since there is no other way, I have to. Edevan Estate no longer exists. I mean, the land is still there, but no house, no fields, no trees - nothing. The workers have burnt everything down, even some of their own cabins. It looks awful - I hope you will never see it as it is now - and every time I remember it, it feels like they are putting a knife in my heart. The riots took place the evening after you left. In the late afternoon they broke into your family's house and searched for you unsuccessfully, so they just burnt down your room. I was there that night, I saw everything. I remember them standing in your room with a candle and throwing it on your desk a few minutes after they arrived. I remember how the flames engulfed the room, the house and eventually everything around it. They ran faster than I have ever seen anyone run. They probably didn't want to burn everything down, at least that's how it seemed to me as I watched them try to save their cabins in the middle of a tornado of flames. But it's still horrible to remember all the anger and hatred on their faces. 

Being thoughtless is much worse than being reckless, I think. And they were thoughtless and had to pay for it. I saw everything. I saw the four dead bodies - if you can even call them dead bodies when there are only bones left - lying among the ashes. I stayed outside all night until every cloud of smoke had cleared and the last spark of the fire had gone out. The grave had also burnt down, but I didn't dare go near it, so I don't know if the coffin is still there or what else might have happened. I found two people in the ashes of the labourers' huts - which were far away from the well - and I still don't know if they were dead before the fire or died in the flames. To be honest, I don't even want to know, because it's horrible enough to imagine what might have happened. The last body I found was your Father's. I couldn't recognise him from the remains, but I found the bones on the stairs to the storeroom, and I think that was where you hid him, so I think I can be certain it's him. He doesn't have his gold watch anymore, that's all I can say about him. They even dared to steal from a corpse. You were right, they are the worst people in the world. I thought everyone had a good side, but they are not humans when they do things like that. I looked for your usual hiding place, but all I found was a little necklace of your Mother that they probably just didn't see in the ashes. I searched until morning, but there was nothing left. After that, I looked for the workers, but they have all either left or died - except for the Dalorys. The Dalorys are probably the only humans, because they tried to rebuild everything, even though it was impossible. They aren't bad people, though, they can't work at all, but at least they don't complain and seem to really want to help, even if they can't. 

Some of the workers who survived are on their way to Shadowtown, so be careful if you cross their path. Even though you didn't tell me this was the place you wanted to go, I think it is the only possible one. Where else could you go by foot alone? Here, somewhere in the middle of nowhere, Shadowtown is the only town in England you can get to in a week or less. And even though my family suspects you might have gone to Scotland, I know you would never do such a thing. And - luckily for you - it would have been much worse than going to Shadowtown, because even though you can get to many small towns there, most of your workers will also arrive there in a few days. Only ten or twenty - I suppose less than twenty, but I don't know for sure - are on their way south right now, so sooner or later your paths will cross in Shadowtown. I'm glad they didn't all take that route and still fear you will meet them before my letter arrives, though it will probably happen. They won't wait too long, and Shadowtown is not as big as it seemed when we were kids. It is quite impossible that your path will not cross that of the workers - and of course they are not alone - when they come looking for you. I wish nothing could happen. 

I know you think that nothing on earth can ever hurt you, but that would be even less possible than not meeting the workers. I don't know why I am writing all this, but I simply want to tell you everything in person. We have always shared all the bad things, as well as all the good things. Now I am sitting here in my room and I can't know what is going on with you. But since I can't change anything, I guess it's unnecessary to bring any worries with me. You're right. You have to be right. There's no way you're going to die there. I mean, I can't even imagine it and I don't want it because it can't happen. In a few years, we will probably laugh about the sorrow I have for you in these few minutes. It's childish to think that you could ever lose to such horrible creatures. Don't you think it is funny to imagine that? I think it is. Nothing can happen, and my thoughts were just foolish, so better forget them right away. I will probably forget them too as soon as I finish this page. You know I think too much about things that can't happen. They can't happen, right? Of course they can't. Oh, I just wish you were here right now to give me that answer with the same haughty look on your face that you always answer these things with. I can even hear your voice right now, as if you were there. Do you sometimes hear my voice when you think of me? I never came to ask that question because we were never apart for more than a week, so I never had a chance to miss you so much that I wanted to hear your voice. I mean, you can be really annoying sometimes, and I don't think anyone else could enjoy hearing you all day as much as I do - if you can annoy me, then you have to believe how annoying you are - so there was never anything I missed about your voice. But now the moment has come when I miss something about you that I never missed before. Isn't that strange? I think it is. 

I probably talk - I mean, write - too much, so I better tell you something else. You will come back to me, I know that. I mean, it would be absolutely impossible for you to break a promise. But don't think I want to live in a castle. I know you like these things, but if you come back with as much money as you took with you, that's no problem either. We will build a small cabin with fields around it, and it will be like we lived for many years. We won't need hundreds of workers around us to do everything. And our children will be happy, no matter what anyone else tells them. Why do you still have such a hatred for all the things someone told you when you were so little? I think you remember ten times more words than I do. You should worry so much about things like that. It is completely unnecessary. Nothing has to be perfect to be great. You can be happy without being rich, without having hundreds of workers or children who are beloved by everyone. Can't you accept that there are bad times and good times? Can't you believe that life is great even when there are problems? Can't you stop thinking that there must always be something to reach for? It's too sad that you haven't changed in all these years. All that hate in your heart is still there and I can feel it even when I am so far away from you. 

I hope you receive my letter very soon and I receive your letters too. There are so many things I want to tell you, but I don't think it's the right time. It's autumn, so you'd better return before the snow falls, and you can't come back until spring. What will happen? What will might be? I better don't think about it and you shouldn't dare tell me what you think about it. 

I forgot, I gave my mother your letter too. She still wonders how you came up with the idea of animals, but because she trusts your intelligence - not your character - we will follow your suggestion. We have only met a few people in the last few months, so I don't think it will be a problem. Hopefully it will all be over soon so I don't have to think about the bad things so much. I don't like all this pain around me, it's so tiring listening to all the worries people have. I know I share some of these thoughts, but if I can let them go, others can too. Even though I can't tell them how embarrassing they are when worrying about almost everything, I can't stop thinking that. Maybe we're both guilty of misbehaving, but if so, at least I'm not the only one who's misbehaving. 

So, now I have to put the letter away, otherwise it will be too long. The hollow tree, you said, right? So, I hope you get to it in the next few weeks. 

With love 

Yours 

Cathleen Lorington, soon to be Cathleen Edevan" 

She put the quill aside and stared out of the window. A thousand thoughts went through her head and she didn't even know what to think about and what not to think about. She still had worries, but she didn't want to accept them, as she had always done since she was a small child. She just sat there and pretended that nothing could ever happen to her or any of her beloved ones. She didn't want to believe that she could change anything around her, not even the little things. She never tried to do so, and because accepting that worrying about something meant wanting to change it, she just put all her worries away. It was her own perfect way of living and she adored it. She hated people who wanted change. She hated things that weren't always the same. She hated anything unexpected and uncontrollable, and yet she loved the one who carried it all. Maybe it was a moment of confusion when she met him and decided to like him while everyone around her thought badly of him. Maybe it was also a moment of realising more than the small part of the world she called her own. Who truly knew? Who will ever know? 

Her adorable expression as she glanced up at the cloudy sky would seem as expressive as it was meaningful to any observer, and described her personality more accurately than any other expression in the whole world. She was still like the little girl who fell in love with Laurence Edevan and started to think she was better than all the girls around her. She still seemed as naive and credulous as she must have been years ago. But the pretence was wrong; she wasn't staring at the clouds because she thought there was nothing more beautiful in the world, but because she knew there were too many terrible things in the world. It was the same result that so many other young women from respectable families came to when they sat alone in a room with nothing to do - but it was different. This was Cathleen's way of life, simple but nevertheless understanding. If she had ever been shown that someone like her could change anything, she would have changed everything she thought was wrong. But who was there for her as an example? She didn't talk to women her own age - without exception - because she didn't think they were intelligent enough. She didn't talk to men her own age - except Laurence - because that was someone a lady would never do, and even though she loved little cabins with little fields around them, she wanted to be a proper lady. She didn't talk to younger people - except some of her sisters - because they weren't even worth enough to spend time with, and maybe a little because they didn't want to talk to her because of her arrogance and childish behaviour. She didn't talk to older people - except some of her sisters and her parents - because she had no right to treat them like children, and it was the only way she knew how to treat people. If she could leave her opinion unspoken, she would not speak to anyone, but as she could not bear to be ignored, she had found some people who accepted her as she was - less than ten, so as not to leave this important fact unspoken - whose opinion she also used to accept if she liked it. She never did anything she thought might be wrong, so she usually did nothing. 

Her glance wandered back to the letter, which she folded up neatly, perfect as she was. She had banished all her thoughts. Her little world was as perfect again as it had always been.

It's a decision that everyone has to make: To change things for the better or to accept that a lot of things will probably always remain wrong---