The Music Box: Chapter Nineteen

Percival returned to the inn, creeping up to his room. He knew his father would be furious enough in the morning that he had not returned as he said he would - how would they take the news that he had gone altogether? But such thoughts could not live long in his mind, crowded as it was with the disbelief at what was happening, a certain disconnection with reality such that he felt he was merely caught in its wake. As though in a dream - somebody else’s at that - he put on some fresh clothes and gathered something warm for Isabelle, for she had fled the woods with nothing but the light clothing that she wore.

Quietly closing his door, Percival crept down to the kitchen. He collected an end of bread and a little wedge of cheese and placed these in a small pouch he slung over a shoulder, wincing as it rubbed against his clawed back. The pain was starting to creep up on him as the shock wore off, so he went to the bar and threw down a mouthful of rum to numb it as best he could.

Waiting for him by the well as promised, Isabelle had a sudden urge to run. She thought it the kindest thing to do, but a selfish part of her wanted to wait, for Percival to be back by her side. She realised too that the urge to flee was driven by a fear of rejection, that she had thought with a dull pain in her belly that he was not coming after all, that he had come to his senses and was this very minute sound asleep in his warm bed, wrapped in a heavy blanket and dreaming of the simple life that could be his.

But here he was, quietly walking along the cobbled lane towards her. Her finely attuned eyes, which could now see as well at night as by day, saw that he was trying to make her out, looking for the tell-tale silhouette where he had left her. She wondered what he must be thinking, what emotions he would be going through at the thought that he was turning his back on all he knew, and for what? For Isabelle Bottomsley, a simple girl he hardly knew.

But pushing this thought aside, Isabelle gave a low whistle, dimples appearing in her cheeks as she saw him hasten along the way.

“I brought some food,” Percival said, “and something warm.”

“Hold onto the food for now, we will no doubt need it later,” Isabelle advised. “Now, are you sure about this?”

“Just try and stop me!”

Isabelle slipped off the edge of the well and stepped up to Percival. They were both overcome with shyness now, the urgency of the situation before had allowed them both to be quite honest and open, but now they were back to being more like their usual quiet selves.

“Okay Pervical Button,” she began, and again he gave her a funny look.

“How do you know my name Isabelle?”

“Um, you must have told me,” she blushed.

“I told you it was Percival, but I never mentioned the Button.”

“Look, I’ll tell you everything in time. But we really must be going, What I was to say was that you must trust me, I will be leading the way and if you are to come, well you don’t try and turn all bossy or anything, I shan’t have it!”

“That’s fine with me,” he grinned. “I wasn’t going to argue with you there in the forest and I sure don’t see why I would now. I don’t know what’s going on, but I do know I trust you and I do know I plan on sticking by you - I do I do!”

Sneaking one last glance at each other - thinking the other wouldn’t notice - they both turned crimson. With ears burning, heat just about steaming off her in the cool night, Isabelle spun around and began to lead the way across a field that wrapped around behind the village. They didn’t have all that long before dawn was to come creeping from the east and she knew they had to get as far away as they could before the village – particularly the Buttons – began to stir.