A Torch in His Heart (The Wanderer Book 1) by Anna Belfrage

Author:Anna Belfrage [Belfrage, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Timelight Press
Published: 2018-08-30T22:00:00+00:00

She had expected him to come back. She had at least expected him to call, but as the evening progressed, she came to the conclusion that this was him punishing her. She sent him a text. OK? An hour later, he replied with a Yes. Nothing more. Helle threw the phone aside. If he was hoping she would call, well then he could damned well keep on waiting—she wasn’t the one who’d stormed out, was she?

So she made herself some hot chocolate with marshmallows, did some channel browsing before ending up watching Love Actually—very apt, a mere three weeks before Christmas. Her mind wandered. On the screen, Colin Firth was swimming about in some dank pond, salvaging sodden papers. On the sofa, Helle was having unwelcome flashbacks. Most of them were hazy and unformed, all but those of the young man leaning against a wall, his arms folded over his chest. His dark mahogany hair was tied back off his face, and his golden gaze followed her, a soft smile on his face. She smiled at this very young Jason, so unformed as a man, still a boy, but tall and well-built, his body a collection of taut muscles—as it was now.

She saw small, squat houses, each windowless except for a series of square holes just below the roof, a verdant hillside that rose steeply from a glittering sea. She could feel how her breath came in shallow gasps after having run all the way to the top, laughing at Jason when he sulked because she’d beaten him again.

“Tarokyie,” she said out loud. Her first home, a little place that breathed heat and peace. “Shit,” she muttered. Imaginations, she told herself, the random product of a brain titillated by the concept of former lives, further stimulated by Jason’s references to a shared past. Deep down, she knew they weren’t. The old woman who regarded her with so much love, wrinkled hands wiping at her cheeks—she was real. She was Nana, and the man with hair as riotous as Helle’s own, he was her father. “Kantor,” she said, sounding out his name before deciding she needed something stronger than hot chocolate.

She was still awake when Alison came home.

“Where’s Jason?” Alison asked the moment she came in, taking in the bottle of whisky, the empty Ben & Jerry ice-cream carton.

“He left.” Helle gave the whisky a considering look. Should she have a third? “We had a fight, and he just upped and left. I guess one could almost say we broke up.” No, she wasn’t going to cry. Helle pinched herself hard, blinking back the tears.

“So what happened?” Alison handed her a tissue. Those damn tears were running silently down Helle’s face.

“I told him I was sick and tired of all these references to a previous life,” Helle said, and there was a twinge of shame as she recalled just how devastated he’d looked. “Seriously, Alison, I just—” She bit off.

“...don’t know if you believe it,” Alison filled in.

Helle nodded, eyes on the tissue she was tearing apart.

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