A Closed Heart by Oster, Camille (guided reading books TXT) 📗

“I’m surprised he came at all,” Octavia said as she approached, holding the hand of one child, and another sitting in the perambulator. The children were very excited, as was Atticus, who had a list of animals he wanted to see. Admittingly, this was a little exciting, even for Julius. There were animals he hadn’t seen here, even as he’d seen the main categories, such as elephants, tigers and monkeys.

At the small booth, he bought the tickets for the whole group and they passed through the turnstile into the zoo itself.

“Oh, there’s camels,” Atticus said excitedly. “One day, I’ll ride a camel through a desert.”

These ambitions were something Julius was entirely unaware of. Likely, Atticus wouldn’t, but then perhaps being an adventurer was something he’d have his heart set on when he grew to age. As it was, all young boys wanted to be adventurers, most growing up to more mundane existences in their adult lives. Then again, Caius had crossed deserts and fought in battles. However, the reality wasn’t as exciting or pleasant as young boys expected.

“Julius wants to know if you’ve heard from Jane Brightly,” Octavia said to Eliza, drawing him out of his reverie.

What? No, he wanted to say, but the truth was that he would hold onto any information he could glean about her.

“Oh?” Eliza said with surprise. It seemed Octavia hadn’t passed on the development in the relationship between him and Jane, but she wasn’t exactly subtle right now either. “I’m sorry. I haven’t heard from her.”

Now he didn’t know how to react or what he should say. “I expect she’s busy being back in her own town,” he said. It sounded as if he was making excuses for Jane not being in touch with Eliza, as if Eliza had been the one posing the question.

Octavia gave him a pointed look and he held himself back from returning it—and to convey how he would rather walk around the zoo like this with Jane. He could imagine her excitement in the way she seemed to embrace everything.

The truth was that she existed like a ghost in his life. There all the time, as if haunting him.

The moments melded together and before long, their visit to the zoo was over. Atticus had enjoyed it very much and had at one time held his hand. It had felt odd, but he let it be. Now that he really looked at him, Julius could see how eager for attention the boy was. This outing had made him very happy.

“Why doesn’t Atticus come back to my house for a while?” Octavia suggested.

“Very well,” Julius said, feeling like some peace would do him good after an outing full of children. It could give him some time to look over the parliamentarian papers he’d actually come to London for.

Atticus was bundled into Octavia’s carriage, flush with the day’s activities. Eliza left as well, making him promise he’d come for supper one night.

While he agreed, the truth was that he didn’t feel like seeing Caius at the moment. Not that he knew why. He just didn’t. Then again, there was nothing he particularly wanted to do, he considered as he stood there, his carriage patiently waiting for him. No, he wanted to go home and sit in silence for a while. Actually, he was very tired. The children must have worn him out.

*

The streets of London were always noisy. There was no way to escape it. It forced its way into his bedroom as he lay staring at the ceiling. The house was utterly silent, but London intruded.

As he’d returned from the outing, he’d gone to his room to rest for a moment, and as he’d laid there, the shadows had moved down the wall and now it was dusk. The documents were waiting for him downstairs, but he couldn’t be bothered. He felt equally ambivalent about going down for supper. He didn’t want to go see anyone, nor go out anywhere.

Normally, he did much when he was in London—visited his club, dined with friends, even caught a concert, but nothing called to him. HIs attention was further south, in Brighton. He recalled everything he knew about it, and wondered why she liked living there so much. Her free lifestyle, apparently.

It twisted his gut to know that she would get another lover at some point. It was distressing to think she might have one now. He would fade from her mind—just a commission she’d taken and had then left behind her.

That was what he felt: left behind. At times it also angered him that she hadn’t even considered what he’d offered her. Not even for a moment, as if he was worth so very little to her. There was ache with that thought. He wasn’t worthless.

Analytically, he knew she didn’t think that of him, but the part that longed for her didn’t see it that way. Like a child who only saw the simple impact on itself. It wanted, and it was denied, and then it wailed. This was everything he hadn’t wanted, the concern he’d had when she’d entered his life in the first place. Exactly as he’d feared, it had happened. Now he pined for her, and he had nothing to offer her. He was the opposite of what she wanted.

Turning over, he stared at the wall for a while as the light faded and the night came. Hunger didn’t intrude, and he couldn’t be bothered going down for a drink. There was nothing he wanted to do right then other than lie there.

Chapter 29

THE GRATING VOICE OF HIS sister pierced through the silent house and Julius roused from his nap. He was sitting in the chair, looking out the window. The birds in the trees of the square across the street had been noisy, and