Harlots - Isabella & Nancy
It is a quaint thing to mourn Charlotte Wells. Ever before, Isabella would have thought that grief, if it could touch her, would freeze her heart, leaving her cold as stone. But Charlotte blew into her life like a reckless spring wind, and even now, Isabella feels the warmth of that generous breeze, her thaw a lingering gift of pain and hope as well.
She cannot go back to who she was before. Those walls are shattered, those monsters slain for good. Charlotte did that. It would be a poor thing to repay that gift by closing herself off again.
*
She talks about Charlotte, haltingly, on walks with Nancy Birch. It takes a while for them to find a pace that suits them both; Nancy strides everywhere as if she’s challenging monsters in the dark. Perhaps she is.
Isabella can tell she need fear no indiscretion from Nancy, who mostly listens, offering the occasional dry-witted remark that somehow bespeaks a great depth of feeling. Knowing that this strange, harsh woman knew and loved Charlotte too, in all her brazen joy and mischief, is a balm to Isabella’s bruised heart.
It feels so natural to reach out and take Nancy’s hand.