"I'm sorry."
"For what? For leaving so suddenly, or not saying a thing when you got back?"
"For whatever it is I'm supposed to be apologising about this time." It hadn't been the wisest thing he'd ever said.
"How about for giving Adele the run of our bedroom?" Mary had said, hands on hips.
"What?"
"You heard me."
Robert wracked his brains. Had he done that? He didn't remember it… maybe something about borrowing anything if she needed it, but he just assumed she'd ask first. Robert shook his head. This wasn't really about privacy, no more than it had been the other day. This was about him and Mary. About how strong they were together or, right now, the opposite.
"You've got to stop this, Mary. Adele is-"
"I know exactly what she is — and what she's after," Mary stated emphatically. "What I don't know is, if she's being encouraged."
"It's been another long day, I've just been wrestling with a maniac and almost seen one of my friends die right in front of me. I haven't got time for this nonsense."
"I understand," she'd told him; he could feel the chill in her words.
Robert followed Tate's lead, leaving Mary alone in the room. He hadn't seen her again until that night, when he'd felt her climb into bed. Part of him just wanted to reach out and put an arm around her, snuggle up tight and forget everything else. But his stubborn pride got in the way: wait and see if she does it first. She didn't. In fact she edged as far away from him as possible.
It was as he was lying there awake again that he'd thought of a solution. Of what he must do. Of a way of figuring out a direction. Things were falling apart rapidly, not only in his personal life, but in every other department. He didn't know how to fight monsters like the one who'd broken free at The Britannia — it was so far removed from his experience. He knew his men were being spread too thinly, both on patrol and looking after the prisoners they'd captured. Robert not only needed to get away from the chaos and confusion for a while, to rediscover who exactly he was, he needed some kind of guidance.
He needed to be back in his one, true home.
So yes, Mark had been an excuse if he was honest — but Robert saw no harm in that. If the youth was one day to take all this over, which was Robert's hope, then he needed to begin where Robert had. Needed to experience what he'd experienced out in the wilderness, or at least start his journey there.
It hadn't gone down well. Mary believed it was just another excuse to get away (from her, though she only implied the last bit). "Go then. It's obviously where you'd prefer to be right now," she'd sniped.
Meanwhile Jack was worried because of the new threat they were facing. "I thought you were too, Robbie. The kid's training's going okay on the castle grounds."
"There are things I can show him at Sherwood that no-one can show him here. Things I never taught any of the troops when we were living there."
Jack had accepted it, but didn't like it.
Tate, on the other hand, never said a word. It was almost like he knew why Robert was making this pilgrimage, and why he wasn't going alone. He'd merely blessed him and said he would pray for his speedy return. "Bring wisdom back with you," Tate had said.
"I'll try, Reverend."
Mark had been all for it initially. But now, on their way to the forest on horseback, he asked Robert if he knew what he was doing. "I don't want to take you away from important things at the castle," he said, riding at a trot alongside.
"This is important, Mark. What we're doing here. But you're not the only reason we're heading back to Sherwood."
"I'm not?"
Robert leaned across and clapped him on the shoulder. "No. This trip's for me as well. I need to reconnect with something I've lost."
"Oh, okay… Talking of which," broached Mark. "You and Mary."
"Not you as well!" Robert gave him a stern look. It was the face he'd pulled when Mark had first followed him into the forest, first begun pestering him to help them against De Falaise. He'd eventually accepted his other role as well, his relationship with the boy growing, each of them replacing something — someone — they'd lost during the virus. But that didn't mean he could be as cheeky as he liked. "There's nothing to discuss, Mark. Drop it."
"But you need to reconnect with something back there as well, don't you see?"
"Since when did you become the fount of all knowledge?"
Mark laughed. "I always have been, didn't you notice? You two are good together."
"You think I don't know that?"
"I do, and that's the pity. You've lost your way a bit, that's all. What is it you say to me, face your fear?"
"And how about you and Sophie? How's it going there, bigshot?" Robert knew it wasn't really fair to turn this around on Mark, but the boy had asked for it. God, teenagers thought they knew it all, didn't they? But Robert had to stop and remind himself that this kid wasn't any ordinary teen, not like those he used to see on street corners with their mates during his time on the beat. Mark had already seen more than he should have of life's horrors, and perhaps that afforded him some leeway. Only not to discuss Robert's private life, and not this frankly.
Mark reacted as if slapped. "There is no me and Sophie. That's the trouble. If we had what you and Mary had… still have, then…"
Robert held up his hand. "I told you, let that drop." But then he couldn't help digging himself deeper. "Jack told me about the fight, you know. You're a brave guy taking on Dale. He's one of the best fighters I've got."
Mark grunted. "He's not so tough."
"Heard you gave him a bloody nose." Robert smiled. "That makes you pretty good too in my book." Mark joined him in the smile. "Mind if I ask what he did to deserve it? Jack told me about the song. He was just pulling your leg, the men do it all the time with each other."
"The men," said Mark, hinting at the problem.
"Ah, I see. You're fed up of being treated like a younger brother or something."
"Brother?" Mark let out a long, mournful breath. "Yeah, I guess that's how Sophie sees me."
"I meant Dale and the blokes. But now I see what's at the bottom of all this. She doesn't treat him like a brother, does she? Dale, I mean?"
Mark shook his head.
"Women, eh?" said Robert, then waited for the smile to broaden; and for it to become another laugh. "They operate on a whole other level, Mark. Out here it's simple. Even in a fight, it's simple. But relationships…"
The horses made their way up one final road. Robert saw the faded brown signs saying 'Sherwood Forest National Nature Reserve', and indicated they should turn in there. Normally, he would have entered the less obvious way, but he wanted to show Mark something before they got to all the survival stuff.
"Come on," he said to the boy, urging his horse to speed up a little and taking them through the first and biggest of the car parks. He looked around, admiring the way the forest had taken back what belonged to it, punching through the concrete in many places, overrunning the dividing posts and benches where families would have had their picnics in summer months. Where he'd once brought Stevie and Joanna to do the same.
Swinging down from their steeds, the pair walked them down an overgrown trail, marked out by fences, and left them with plenty of hay inside the abandoned and rundown 'Forest Table' — once a thriving eating place for visitors to Sherwood. They walked on into the middle of the Visitor's Centre, with its focal point: the peeling statue of two legendary figures battling it out with staffs. "Reminds me of the night we met Jack, remember?" said Mark.