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33. Doctor Blythe's confession

Gilbert rode along Orchard Way, the sky turning inky black as his borrowed horse thundered along the path, kicking up clouds of dust.

A storm was burning up the evening sky, thunder promising to shatter through the clouds imminently. The weather of late seemed to match the mood of Gilbert's feelings and the events which seemed to shroud his life. Anne's scarf billowed in the wind as he passed all of the houses Anne had mentioned. He was searching for any visible sign of Anne but he had no luck, until he reached the Mantleyews house. There was a crushed rose bush in the perfectly-preened garden, right by the slightly open window. It was out of place and Gilbert slowed Diana's horse to examine it.

Gilbert could see through the window that there were people moving inside the house and he watched. It was only the Mantleyews family - they were calm and preparing for bed. Anne certainly couldn't be in there but she had definitely been here a while ago.

Gilbert rode on and passed several more houses with no further signs of Anne. He reached the last house on Orchard Way before the red road disappeared into the dark, neglected woodcutter's forest. The last house was perfectly quiet and seemed to be untouched, belonging to the Frailles family. Gilbert sighed, his brow furrowing as he surveyed the area, turning Diana's horse in slow circles around the path. His eyes searched the hedgerows and the surrounding fields for anything... Anne had to be near.

Gilbert looked over the Frailles white fence into their back garden. He scanned the well-kept grass and plants and flowerbeds, struggling to see very well in the dark evening light. He suddenly noticed that the neatly-mown grass was torn up in streaks like somebody had been dragged across it and had dug in their heels... Gilbert followed the marks with his eyes to the back of the garden and saw a piece of torn white fabric caught onto the picket fence. He recognised it from Anne's school apron.

Gilbert's heart dropped.

Anne had gone into the woods behind the Frailles family's house - that or she had been taken... He highly doubted Anne had gone into those woods for any good reason, perhaps she had run in to hide or escape something or somebody. But it looked like there had been a struggle if she had been dragged across the lawn and had torn her skirts on the fence. She hadn't gone of her own free will, he knew it.

Gilbert looked up at the forest, looming dark and full of potential for terrible deeds.

Joseph could have taken Anne deep into the woods and left her, unable to find her way out or to die. Anne was in no state to be left anywhere and if it was Joseph who had done this then Gilbert could be sure he hadn't been gentle... Anne could have torn her stitches open in the struggle, she had come close to doing so many times over the past few days.

Gilbert clenched his jaw, his face paling as he thought of all the terrifying possibilities. He gripped the reins tight and spurred the horse into the woods. The trees grew close together and whipped at Gilbert's face as he rode deeper and deeper, off the beaten track to follow the rough trail which Anne had left. It went on and on and Gilbert couldn't get the image from his head of Anne being dragged through the woods by Joseph.

Losing Anne was more than a possibility now, it seemed to Gilbert a highly-realistic outcome for this entire situation. It shook him how deeply afraid he was to lose her... He couldn't bare it if he lost her and he'd never have told her how he felt. How did he feel? Did he even know? Diana said it was better to give Anne time but what if Joseph and Billy were right and Anne didn't have much time left?

Gilbert resolved to confront whatever confusing and overwhelming feelings he harboured for Anne and confess to the redhead the truth of his heart when he found her.