A Man For All Seasons by Jenny Brigalow

people, Chad was not overly thrilled. The beer had begun to have its effect, and his bed called out to him.
    By the time they'd worked around the room, his concentration had plummeted. He gave the last half a dozen pictures a cursory glance. But when Nanny's light fell upon the last, biggest picture, he stopped. Even in the dim light, the soft complexion and classical lines of Seraphim's face shone out like moonlight upon a lake. He felt she could almost have stepped out of the painting and walked with him, out of the house and into the night. He wished she could.
    It took him a moment to realise that Nanny M was whispering to him. He bent down closer.
    “… so you see dearie,” she was saying, “when they say that great-great-grandma was the toast of India, they weren't exaggerating.” The old woman began to laugh softly then.
    Chad hadn't a clue what she was babbling on about. He nodded politely but felt sure she was a bit muddled. Not surprising really, under the circumstances.
    “Are you hungry dear? I'm a bit peckish myself.”
    Lost for words, Chad shook his head.
    “Well, I'll leave you to it then. You just remember what I've told you.” She patted him on the arm gently. “Up the stairs, turn left. You're room is the third door on the left.” And then she set off, leaving Chad staring after her foolishly. What the hell was that all about?
    The light bobbed along the floor for a while and then stopped. Nanny M's voice carried with startling clarity across the room. “Shelley says the best herbal cigarettes come from Australia. Apparently the plants grow like weeds. You never know, I might come over one day and make a bit of a holiday of it.”
    He chuckled softly to himself as he made his way carefully up the stairs. Luckily it was another clear night, and moonlight flooded through the huge windows above the stairwell. He paused and looked out at the night sky. The moon was familiar, big and round. But the sky seemed strangely empty of stars. Those that were visible were unfamiliar; a poignant reminder of how far from home he really was.
    He turned the corner into the dark and bumped solidly into someone coming the other way. Did no one sleep in this house?
    “Sorry,” he said.
    “It's all right. I'm fine. You just gave me a scare.”
    It was Seraphim.
    For a long, pregnant moment they were both silent. Chad wondered what she was doing. Then it occurred to him that she may be of a like mind. Possibly she may think he'd been out tomcatting with Shelley. Panic filled him.
    “I've just been down to the kitchen, for a drink. Your Nanny was down there,” he said, his words tumbling over each other in his haste to explain.
    She laughed softly. “Well, there's a coincidence, that's where I'm headed too, to get some...”
    Chad waited for her to continue but after a half minute he realised she'd stopped. “Get some?” he prompted.
    “You'll think I'm foolish,” she muttered.
    He grinned in the darkness. “Try me.”
    There was another silence but the atmosphere felt lighter.
    “I'm going to get some carrots, and say goodbye to the horses.”
    Somehow it was the last thing he'd expected. For the first time it occurred to him that she held a genuine passion for the equine residents in the large, well run yard. He realised he'd dismissed her as a hobby rider. That he'd classified her as a very nice, thoroughly spoilt, rich young girl, playing at ponies, all because he held no value for her sport.
    Suddenly he felt bad. Although he'd have rather died a hundred deaths than admit it, Chad loved his horses too. Indeed, during his rather disreputable youth, the only level of love he'd expressed had been toward his four-legged acquaintances. For the first time since he'd met her, he felt a sense of fellowship, rather than the familiar sense of careful, but distant adoration that he'd been experiencing.
    “I'll come with you,” he said, almost before the thoughts had formed in his head.
    A soft, tentative hand