My Dearest Catherine,

It is so long since I have heard anything from you and I hope that this letter finds you well.
I have missed your letters, missed hearing about your life, your friends your studies. I expect that you will be sitting examinations soon and going off to that college you told me about. Radcliffe wasn’t it? A few young men and women from my community are hoping that their results will enable them to go there also perhaps you will come to know them, befriend them I am certain that you would be a good friend for them to know.

My dear, something happened here recently where I lost the best friend I ever had. I am ashamed to speak of it, but feel that I must as I know how putting feelings down in writing can comfort and help one to see more clearly the whole picture but still in this instance it does not change the outcome.

I may never send this letter Catherine, for telling you these things is too private. There is so much that you do not know about me, so much I could never tell but know this that I would never intentionally hurt anyone and yet it grieves me that I have.

You’ve heard me speak of Lisa. Lisa my dearest, dearest friend, so beautifully she dances. It was her aspiration to be a great dancer and I am certain that will never change. The world deserves to know her, she moves so gracefully so perfectly…

Oh Catherine, I despise myself for believing that she felt any more for me than a friend, and I am ashamed to admit that I began to have romantic notions about Lisa and I together. How could I of been such a fool! As if someone so beautiful could be with someone like me in that way! Disillusioned though I was I built my castles in the air, surrounded Lisa with love - was there for her always. And I dreamed and I imagined that she felt toward me the same way as I felt toward her, but to Lisa I was no more than a friend. A brother, someone she had grown up with had been with all her life. And I had to ruin it!

Catherine, believe me, I never meant for it to happen, but as I watched Lisa dance just for me, I reached out for her intending to show her how I felt about her, and she fought against me Catherine, pulled away from me, and rather than let her go I held on and I…oh Catherine… I hurt her…these hands…these hands hurt her…and she is gone…

Oh Catherine…Lisa is gone… What am I to do? I love her so much…

It was here, Catherine supposed where Vincent had unleashed a torrent of tears, for it was here where most of the smudging occurred and he had not even signed it, but rather than feel sorry for him, with what she now knew, she grew afraid.

What had he done to Lisa? And more importantly would he have done the same to her? What if having offered herself to him he had done something that had hurt her, and she had asked him to stop? Would he have done so? Could he? Or would that other side of him, the one Peter had shown existed have overruled and he of hurt her as he had so obviously had hurt Lisa. His letter was contradictory though. He’d spoken of the world coming to know Lisa, but had he been speaking in the past tense? Was he so overwrought when he had penned the letter that time and space ceased to exist?

Whatever, reading the letter had done nothing to help Catherine re-find the Vincent she had come to know and trust, in fact had done the complete opposite, for now she knew that she feared him even more and wished she hadn’t of come back to the glen to find him.

It had been a struggle but Vincent had managed to make his way back to the glen within two and a half days and now weary and thirsty he set off straight for the lake to bathe and slake his thirst, before as was his intention to go up to the cabin.

It was still early afternoon, and as no cars had passed down the road on his way up he felt certain that he was safe for another hour at least. Time enough to wash and rest before going to greet his friends who would surely be staying another day or they would have set off earlier to beat the noon day traffic.

So laying his garments at the edge of the lake, he dove into the lake, gasping as the cold water went over his head, coming up feeling refreshed and reminded of the ice cold depths of the mirror pool. The only difference being that here he came up beneath brilliant sunshine and the sound of birds singing in the trees.

Swimming to the shore, he stopped where the water was waist deep and sponged himself with some water weed floating there. It didn’t work very well but at least it wiped away the sweat and grime of two days of travelling and made him feel alive again.

That done he rose from the water, his golden fur sodden, sure that he looked like some half drowned rat, and then stopped dead as he realised he wasn’t alone. Catherine…he could sense that Catherine was nearby…and a sudden gasp highlighted her position.

Staring at one another as if it was the last thing either of them would see at the lake, both bolted, Vincent for his clothes and Catherine for the safety of the nearest tree, shinning up it like a squirrel chased by a dog. But rather than afford her with cover it only gave her a better view of this golden covered man hastily pulling on his clothing over a still wet body. Ordinarily at such a sight, she would have laughed but she found her heart thumping all too painfully to even think it was funny.

At last fully clothed he looked up at her, knowing all along that she was there. He did not speak, focusing instead upon that which her heart revealed to him. She was afraid and it was he that made her react that way.

Ashamed Vincent made to move off through the bushes intent on going anywhere so long as he put as much space between the two of them as he could when suddenly he thought he heard her shout his name. Slowing to walking pace he listened again, and sure enough she was calling to him. He stopped, thought about it and turned going back to the tree where she hung her legs crossed firmly together beneath one branch about twelve feet up from the ground.

“I hope you don’t want me to catch you?” He asked thinking it was best to speak of something light.

He was surprised when Catherine grinned but the action was soon replaced by her face set grim with anxiety and she did not reply.

“Thank you for coming back for me.” Vincent told her.

“It was Peter’s idea.”

“Peter is here? I thought your father had brought you.”

“No. He’s still in hospital.”

“Oh. How is he?”

“Getting better. He was unconscious a long time. The psycho is dead do you know?”

Vincent shook his head, “No, though I did wonder though when I heard the screams. How did he die?”

“Bears killed him.”

“It’s a wonder you didn’t think it was me.” Vincent retorted sharply as something in her tone told him that in the beginning she had thought just that.

“It crossed my mind, but then the post mortem revealed it had been bears, possible two large adults. The blood had drawn them.”

“One of the reasons why you should not be out here right now…” His voice trailed away. He hadn’t meant to say that but was concerned for her safety.

“What do you mean…” Catherine cried sharply.

“I’m sorry forgive me, I shouldn’t have been so presumptuous. It’s just that there are things that I sense…and I know it is dangerous for you out here right now with such wild animals about.”

“As I see it Vincent, you are the only wild animal that I should worry about!”

Vincent flinched. He’d deserved that, but it didn’t make him feel any better. He turned to walk away tears gathering in his eyes. He didn’t want her to know how distressed that comment had made him.

“I’m sorry Catherine.” He told her as he walked away.

“Wait! Don’t go. Vincent wait!”

Had she of called sorry he might have lingered, but since she seemed hell bent on twisting the knife some more Vincent walked on. He could feel her emotions, knew that she was intent on hurting him as she felt he had hurt her. And in her condition, her hormones would be making her say things intended to cause pain, and probably make her feel guilty and remorseful later when she had had time to think about what she had said.

She was only hitting out he knew that but right now after the experience he had had these past three weeks he didn’t need it. He just wanted to go up to the cabin, greet Peter set off in the car and go home. And he’d never leave home again…not for anyone ever!

He’d gone about thirty yards when something prickled at the back of his neck and Catherine’s emotions that he had tried unsuccessfully to block off altered from one of anger to one of fear. Vincent slowed and listened. All was quiet and that in itself, sent the alarm bells in his head into a frenzy. Something was wrong. And then he heard the low distinguished moan of a bear nearby.

Catherine!

Running back as near as he dared, he saw the tree with Catherine now climbing higher and her fear clutched around his own heart with steely fingers in a tight grip. One black bear was climbing the tree behind her and another anticipating her falling waited directly below, altering course as she changed position up in the branches.

Vincent!

He heard her call, though she never uttered a sound. And he felt it when she acknowledged that because of what he was, he could save her. That acceptance washed him clean. As in the face of danger such as this, he was to her the only one that could possibly save her life. And as the only gun was with Peter who back the cabin was oblivious to what was happening, Vincent knew that any rescue attempt was down to him.

He’d never been faced with such a situation before. The only time he had ever tried to kill someone he hadn’t completed the mission, and he wasn’t certain that after almost two weeks of living on small fry, nuts and berries that he would be strong enough to carry it through. But it was obvious that Catherine could do nothing and so it was down to him.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have to kill the bears. Perhaps in all probability, he could scare them off. Or maybe they would see him as a challenge to prey and fight back. That rather depended on whom he charged in there as, and summoning all his courage around him he stepped closer to the tree and as close to the bear on the ground as he deemed necessary.

At first it did not see him and when it did it looked back twice before recognition dawned. Hovering between a standing on two legs position and that of four the bear danced and growled low in its throat signalling to the other up in the tree that danger was present. The bear above stopped climbing and looked back down, saw the man and sniffed the air. The scent of Catherine’s blood assailed his nostrils and he growled, but he did not sense anything that should worry him about the man and so continued climbing up after Catherine.

His actions calmed the other bear and likewise he chose not to worry about the appearance of the man. People didn’t bother them, and so long as they did not seem to present a threat the bear would leave him alone.

That being so Vincent was able to move in closer and cautiously until he was almost at arm’s length by the bear on the ground and then he challenged him. Emitting a long low growl of his own the bear swung round to face Vincent surprise evident with every hair raised upon its back.

At the sound of an unfamiliar growl the other bear above stopped stalking Catherine and looking down growled menacingly now that his source of food was challenged, but this creature was strange, such as he had never encountered before and cowardice took over. He watched from his vantage point above as the bear on the ground and the strange creature paced around each other.

Looking into those golden eyes of his opponent Vincent’s gaze never left that of the bear, and with the low warning rumble that signalled a fight would erupt if the bear did not back down Vincent stepped closer ready to strike out if the need be.

From high in the tree Catherine froze with terror. What was more she could see the cabin and Peter leaving to come looking for her. He would walk right into the ambush if he wasn’t warned, but Catherine didn’t know if she should cry out to him or not. Looking down she called to Vincent instead, “Peter’s coming should I shout him?”

Never taking his eyes from those of the bear Vincent replied, “Yes, tell him to stay away, keep in the cabin or the car.”

At the sound of his voice the bear hesitated unsure now, where only moments ago he had summoned enough courage to whack this strange creature he held back and growled. But to Vincent this growl was not the challenge he had uttered only moments earlier but rather one that told him that he did not want to fight was unsure of what he was fighting and thus uncertain of his victory. Dropping to all fours the bear ambled quickly away, just as Catherine shouted for Peter to go back for the gun.

Watching his mate take off through the trees the other bear pursuing Catherine slid back through the branches and down the trunk of the tree as desire to flee took hold. Whatever this creature was he didn’t want to know. That he could sound like a cougar and speak like a man terrified the bear and he ran full pelt after the one that had gone ahead and was soon out of sight.

Vincent stunned and unable to believe that the pair had given up so easily stood staring after the way they had gone before asking Catherine if she was all right.

“Yes, but can you help me down. I can usually climb trees no problem but I’m still shaking.” She confessed.

“Catherine! Catherine!” Peter’s voice surprised them both, and a second later he came crashing through the trees, “What’s wrong honey…” He stopped dead, “Vincent!” Overjoyed he flew his arms around the younger man and hugged him tightly. “Oh its so good to see you.” He told him so obviously delighted, “But what’s the problem…” He took in the sight around him, Catherine half way up a tree, Vincent preparing to climb it, Catherine screaming for the gun…“What’s going on?” He asked warily.

“There were some bears.” Catherine called down, “And I could see that you were going to walk right into them. Vincent told me to tell you to go back, but then I remembered the gun…”

Relieved Peter’s whole body relaxed, “Oh thank God, I thought….”

Suddenly Catherine understood, “Oh you thought I wanted you to shoot Vincent?” She laughed albeit shakily so, “No, Peter…” Then, “Oh my God just imagine if that’s what you had thought and didn’t see the bear that was chasing me first you might have killed Vincent.” Catherine was horrified.

Peter shook his head, “My dear, under no circumstances whatsoever would I kill Vincent, not even for you.” He spoke gravely with sorrow in his eyes, but she could hear the sincerity behind his words.

“Then it’s just as well you feel that way.” Vincent responded with a grin, “Now Catherine if you could let yourself drop from there, I’m sure I could catch you.”

She climbed down instead, unable to let go and fall in the hope of being caught before she hit the ground, but when she was some six feet from the bottom she felt Vincent’s arms go around her waist helping her down to her feet.

“Thank God you were here then Vincent. Have the bears gone?” Peter glanced all around him unsure.

“They might be back and its best Catherine stays at the cabin for the rest of her stay here. They were interested in her scent.”

“What did I tell you, young lady!” Peter snapped. “I couldn’t believe it when I found that you had left the cabin. Listen to me next time okay?”

“I’m sorry.” Catherine told him genuinely so.

He patted her hand, “Just so long as you are alright.” Then he hugged her close, “If anything had happened to you…” And shuddered.

“I think we should all return to the cabin, I for one am starving…did you bring any food with you?” Vincent asked hopefully.

“Oh Lord yes, you must be, how have you survived out here boy? It’s a pity there were no picnic baskets…” the two of them followed Catherine and despite the horrible experience she had just undergone, another to chalk up in this place, Catherine found it delightful listening to the easy banter between the two old friends as they all made their way toward the cabin by the lake.

Even so things were not yet smooth between Vincent and Catherine as when evening came and Vincent was stuffed and well rested they sat in silence in the living room when Peter had retired into the back room for the night. Vincent had assigned himself to the couch knowing that Peter needed his rest with the long drive planned for home the following day.

“Something bothers you, Catherine?” Vincent asked gently after they had sat in silence for too long.

“Yes.”

“If you regret what took place between us, I will understand. I will not expect anything more from you, if that is what bothers you.” Vincent could think of nothing else.

For a moment, he didn’t think she would reply, then taking a deep breath she surprised him by saying; “No that’s not the problem, although you’re right I’m not certain that I want to…well you know its just…” She paused uncertain of how to tell him or even if she should, but she had to know, needed to know the answers. Despite everything that had happened, he still meant a great deal to her.

“What is it Catherine, you know you can tell me anything?”

“Vincent I found your letter.” She whispered hardly daring to look at him and mystified he did not understand for the moment.

“My letter, what letter?”

“The one that you wanted back, you know the one with the tear stains on?” She looked up then needing to see his expression even though it made her flinch when it came.

“Did you read it?”

“Yes.”

Vincent sucked in a breath. He felt betrayed, “You promised that you wouldn’t.”

“No I didn’t. I promised that you could have it back. I said I hadn’t read it, but I didn’t promise not to if I found it.”

“But surely knowing that I regretted sending it to you should have told you that I didn’t want you to know of its contents.”

Catherine refused to get into that one, “What happened to Lisa?”

Gasping Vincent stared at her wide-eyed before rising to his feet and begin the notorious pacing she would come to know him for. “Lisa has gone.” He told her at length.

“I know that! I mean what happened to her…did you kill her?”

Swinging around Vincent’s mouth dropped open in stunned surprise, “Kill her! Kill Lisa…how could I ever kill…Catherine! Is that what you think? Is that why you have been so afraid of me?”

“Not exactly but it didn’t help. You mean you didn’t kill her?” Despite how each word made him feel Catherine’s heart began to race. He hadn’t hurt Lisa in that way after all.

“Of course I didn’t kill her…I love her!” He shouted then hoped that he hadn’t woken Peter. He listened only intending to continue when he was certain Peter wasn’t coming to see what was going on except Catherine beat him to it.

“You love her?” Catherine felt her heart sink. Vincent felt it too.

“No…I loved her…past tense. Lisa meant everything to me…but since she left the tunnels…”

“She’s gone! Left the tunnels?” Catherine was flabbergasted, that hadn’t even crossed her mind.

“Yes, Father sent her away.”

“Oh Vincent…I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, “It doesn’t matter now. It was probably for the best. I think Lisa would have gone anyway and that would have made me feel far worse knowing she had chosen to go.”

“And you don’t love her anymore? Are you sure about that? What if she suddenly turned up and begged your forgiveness…say what did you do to her anyway?”

“I scratched her. Tore her dress, I wanted to kiss her, she didn’t want me to…” Catherine could see that the memory pained him still and she longed to wipe it all away, but she had to know. “So would you welcome her back…if she returned?”

“Yes I’d welcome her back…she was a favoured member of our community…and…what? Sorry what did you say?”

“I said, I didn’t mean it in that way. I meant would you welcome her back. That is, would you hope she had returned for you?”

“I doubt that will happen.”

“But would you wish it were so?” Catherine’s heart hammered madly. She needed to know how he felt about this girl so much.

Sighing deeply Vincent answered her truthfully. “Six months ago I would have wished for nothing more, but then I met you, and in you I realised that what I had felt for Lisa was just infatuation. What you and I had was so much more solid… I would rather wish that…”

“What we have.” Catherine was smiling up at him, tears gathering on her lashes and he didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry?”

“You said what we had, but its not that at all, it’s what we have. There is no past tense. Vincent I still love you.”

He gasped, this he did not expect, and his heart began to beat erratically as she continued to gaze up at him the love she spoke of now filling her eyes.

“You still love me! But Catherine…you have seen what I am…what I am capable of…”

Catherine smiled, “I’ve seen some of what you are capable of…however that which is most important I have yet to see.”

“You can’t mean…” He shook his head a halo of a golden hue scattering about his face, looking exceedingly appealing to Catherine right at that moment.

In reply she stood, held out her hand, “Its getting awfully late Vincent, and you can’t possibly sleep on that couch, its way too small for you, why don’t you share my bed?”

Unable to reply he nervously reached for her hand and allowed her to lead him through the living room blowing out the candles as she passed and into the golden glow of her bedroom beyond.

“Now then my love, I think we have some unfinished business to attend to, don’t you think?”

Vincent couldn’t think, but he reacted in the only way that she had hoped, by pressing his lips against hers and reminding her of the glorious way that he could kiss…

Peter stirred, and rolled over to sleep. He hadn’t caught all of the conversation between the two young people, but he had listened just in case something awful happened between them. Now he was sure they had made up their differences and all would be well again. He smiled, pumping up the pillow, drawing it beneath his ear to the comfortable position he favoured and sighed. He could go to sleep at last.
Catherine safe in her room was probably blowing out the candles even now, and Vincent…Peter chuckled…how he would sleep on that little couch he’d never know…probably have to curl his legs up into the foetal position…or perhaps he should change places with him after all…

Reluctance to do the gentlemanly thing in the face of the cosy bed that he was in, delayed Peter long enough to not do it at all for soon he was fast asleep.
Sometime in the night he would wake and remember and intend to go and relieve Vincent from the couch, but since he had not been woken by the younger man falling off the couch and onto the floor, he decided that he shouldn’t wake Vincent after all and rolled over and went back to sleep. And so Peter stayed inside the back room oblivious to anything happening in the cabin around him and never knowing that he would have had a fit if he knew…