In the Shadows (The Blaisdell Chronicles) (8 page)

CHAPTER 8

 

I cast my eyes around, seeing the city lights twinkling behind the trees like fallen stars. I could still feel my heart beating wildly under my ribs. Jen and I had just staggered giddily from the Waltzer and onto the more sedate Big Wheel. The biting breeze hit my face, numbing my cheeks enough for me to sink my head lower into the collar of my coat. Below, the air was cold, yet it wasn’t enough to dampen anyone’s spirits. It was far colder up here.

“Lucy, can I talk to you about something?” Jen looked out through the metal bars of the cage. Her hands rubbed her arms over her bomber jacket. “Do you like Alex?”

I glanced over the side of the cage, observing the crowds below. I doubted I could feign ignorance, especially when I was stuck in here with Jen, like a rabbit caught in a snare. Had she planned to corner me like this? But it was Jen I could hear shifting uncomfortably in her seat, making the cage creak. Making her wait for a response wasn’t a good idea, although I wasn’t certain what I should say. I didn’t know the extent of my feelings for Alex, yet it was clear he was interested in me. Hoots of broken laughter and screams of delight urged me to speak.


Yeah, he’s a nice guy. Why do you ask?”

One padded mitten pushed away a stray lock of Jen’s hair. “When I met him the other day whilst getting tickets, he asked after you.”

As the ride was lowering, I looked towards the door, eager to escape. At that moment, my skin prickled, when a dark figure loomed behind the queue. Their head was low, but in my mind, I felt familiar eyes boring into mine. Heat shimmered over my cheeks. I shifted to get a closer look, hoping to confirm my suspicion, but whoever it was had disappeared. Disappointment fell heavy in my heart, and we were being taken up again. Had it been my imagination, or had someone been there? My hands gripped the cold bars, wishing I could break free.

“Lucy?”

Abruptly, I let go, turning to face her. “Was he?” I shrugged. “Perhaps he’s just being friendly.”

Guilt sat uneasily in my stomach, like rancid meat. “I’m sure he likes you.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, you do spend more time together.”

Jen made a non-committal grunt and looked away. “We do. But it doesn’t matter.”

“Why? Don’t you fancy him?”

I hadn’t realised we’d stopped, until the cage door was unlocked and opened by a man, eager to get us off to allow a young couple on. I followed Jen outside, jogging to keep up with her. I wouldn’t let it drop until she answered me.

“Well?”

“Duh, of course I think he’s gorgeous! But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything.”

There was something different about Jen. I tried glancing into her eyes, certain I caught a glimpse of uncertainty there, but she quickly veiled her expression. We strolled further through the crowds
, passing the side-stalls. I decided to try to disperse the tension between us.


Jen, do you fancy trying to win a prize? Come on, it’ll be a laugh.”

Jen paused, her gaze trawling over the toys hanging on hooks behind the stallholders. Relief swept over me when her face brightened. “Look at that panda with the blue bow! He’s so cute!
But I’m rubbish at these sorts of things.”

The stallholder was a
short, stocky man with a bright red nose, the same colour as his shirt. The corner of his mouth lifted, as he adjusted the oversized bow tie around his neck. He exuberantly grabbed the coins from a young lad, whose girlfriend clung eagerly onto his arm.

“Now, then. All you have to do is hit the centre of all three targets.”

He stood aside, revealing the round boards behind him. The first was the nearest, and probably easy enough to get, but the second was further away, and the last was right at the other end of the stall. The red dot indicating the centre wasn’t easy to see.

“All of them?”

The stallholder smirked. “All of them, or no prize.”

The girlfriend did her best to encourage him, including
pressing a kiss to his cheek.  “Come on, Nick! You can do it!”

With renewed confidence, he raised the pistol.

A sudden wave of dizziness came over me. Voices became distorted; their faces jumbled together like a scrambled TV channel. My head thumped, as the pistol fired three times, each shot echoing loudly in my brain.

My hands covered my ears, as I stumbled backwards, only to be caught from behind. I turned, and what I saw robbed me of my breath.

Nathan.

The young lad was rushing after his girlfriend, who clearly wasn’t happy she didn’t get the prize.
Spying a new punter, the stallholder beckoned, offering the fake pistol, indicating the three targets behind with his thumb. Nathan waited a few moments, until he dug into his pocket. The stallholder greedily took the coins, eyeing them in his hands. He stepped aside, chuckling to himself.

Pistol in hand, Nathan raised the pistol in his right hand, cupping it with his left.

I tried focusing on the pistol in Nathan’s hand, trying to keep the present with me. A mistake.

His finger pulled on the trigger, the gun glittering menacingly, and
time slowed. I shielded my eyes, feeling the tremor from the bullet ricocheting me backwards. When I opened my eyes, everything had changed. The bright colours from the funfair changed into waves of red and blue, as cavalries charged from each side. The pleasure seekers’ screams of delight changed into screams of agony, as the once green field became a mass of bloodied bodies.

Steel against steel, swords clashed together. I tried to run, but fell over a corpse; the young man’s eyes still wide open. I tried screaming, but the noise was muffled by another pistol being fired. I was drawn to the back of a soldier dressed in red, charging towards two oncoming Frenchmen, one closer than the other. The familiar pistol returned, and the loud bangs hit each target, right in the middle of their hearts.

A loud screeching brought me back to reality. Jen pulled excitedly on my arm.

“Oh, my God, he did it!” she squealed. I frowned at her, and then chanced a look at the pistol, once again a plastic toy. I held my breath, as Nathan slowly handed it back to the stallholder. Before I could say another word, Jen was rushing over to congratulate Nathan. I had to stop her.

“Nobody’s ever managed to hit all of the targets,” the stallholder grumbled, unhooking the large panda that had caught Jen’s eye.

“Wow, you were amazing!” Jen
breathed, her eyes alight with amusement.

The stallholder reappeared with the giant panda, which was almost the same size as he was.

“The girls,” said Nathan flatly. “Give it to them. I have no need for a child’s toy.”

Jen eagerly grabbed the panda. “Oh, thank you! I’m Jen. I saw you in the coffee house the other day, but—”

She stopped abruptly. I moved around the panda, but realised Nathan had gone.

“What’s his problem?” Jen frowned.

             

I open my window and greet the morning sun, now shining brightly behind the thinning clouds. Beyond the Briggstow Estate, along the dirt road, herds graze in the lush green fields, sheep faintly bleating. I catch a glimpse of the small chapel at the top of the hill, the location at which my father wishes my wedding to be held. Deliberately, I turn my attention elsewhere. Houses in the nearby village peer from behind the trees, the smoke from chimneys filling the sky like grey plumes. The images fill my mind with dreams, just like when my dear mother used to take me for walks, so we could find something new to paint. A smile stretches my cheeks at the memory of last night’s encounter with Jonathan. After receiving a paucity of unwelcome kisses and poorly recited poetry from other suitors, I had begun to believe no gentleman could tempt me to marry.

I go to find Jonathan after dark at our agreed point at the abandoned woodcutter’s cottage
in the woods. The chorus from an owl in the trees shakes me slightly, but I bravely wait, scanning the looming shadows, looking for any sign of him. Somebody emerges from behind a tree, and I don’t need to see his face to know it’s him. Two warms hands reach for mine.

“You came, my lady. I cannot begin to express my joy.”

I feel his lips press over the back of each hand, sending a rush of excitement through my blood. I willingly go into his arms, wrapping my hands around his neck. When our lips meet, I feel like a butterfly has landed on my mouth, the tickling sensation sending quivers of pleasure throughout my body. Slowly, he ends the kiss, releasing me.

“I have something for you.”

He briefly leaves me, only to return a moment later. The scent of flowers hits me, as he pushes some into my hands. I hold them up to my nose.

“I’m afraid they aren’t as beautiful as the hothouse blossoms
. They’re from a nearby field.”

“They’re wonderful, Jonathan. Thank you.”

It is then I realise I have spoken his first name. A comfortable silence spreads between us, his arms reaching around me. We listen to the river rushing past behind the cottage, to the gentle sway of the breeze through the trees.

“Is it strange knowing I find myself missing you when we are apart? I see you in my dreams, but when I wake, I am crushed knowing you’re not with me.”

I smile, although I’m unsure if he can see it.

“Perhaps, you will grant me one request?”

Anything, my mind whispers.

“Allow me to sketch you. I have tried without you present, but I fear I’m not doing you justice. I would like to be able to see you when we aren’t together.”

My heart lifts high into the clouds. It’s too cold in the cottage, and it’s beginning to get dark. We decide to sneak back to the Briggstow estate, passing the servant’s quarters, and enter my bedchamber. The fire in the hearth continues to glow, although not as bright when I left. I turn when I hear him bolt the door shut. Finding paper and charcoal in my cupboard, I hand them to him, his hand brushing against mine, the contact making me tremble.

“Take a seat by the window,” he says, quietly.

Pulling a curtain back, I realise he can now see my features, for the moon is shining brightly into my room. I meet his gaze, and it’s then I can see his small smile, his eyes full of longing.

“Look out the window. Please.”

I’m aware of the chapel at the top of the hill on the horizon. I imagine Jonathan and I being wed there, running down the hill afterwards, hand in hand. When we reach the bottom, he pulls me into his arms and kisses me with abandon.

Feeling the heat spreading over my face, I concentrate on the moon, observing its craters and lines. I suppress the quickening of my pulse when I hear the paper crinkle and the charcoal moving.

 

“He really is the best guy on this planet!”

 

Jen had spent most of the morning telling me about her latest boyfriend. Her chores had taken second place, and instead I’d been left to do her work as well as my own. She’d been too wrapped up in droning on about this guy, she’d not noticed my prompts for her to move off the counter so I could clean, or serve the customer his coffee, despite her being right next to the pot. I pushed aside my annoyance. It wasn’t her fault I had no love life.

“Are you talking about Daniel?”

“Hmm, what?”

Jen’s eyes betrayed her. Confusion swam through my head.

“You told me you were seeing
Daniel. Aren’t you together anymore?”

Jen screwed up her nose. “
Him?
Oh no. I thought he was a badass, but he isn’t. He refused to take me out on his bike anymore, unless he was sober. Do you know how boring being on a bike is, without taking any risks? He said he only did it the first time because I had no money left for a cab home. He didn’t want to hurt me in an accident. Can you believe that?”

I was beginning to warm to the guy, but it didn’t matter what I’d say to Jen. She had told me she got bored easily.

“OK, so if it’s not Daniel, then where did you meet this new guy?”

Jen looked away.

“Was it at the Halloween party?”


He was there,” she answered quickly
.
To
o
quickly.

My voice lowered an octave. “What are you hiding, Jen? Is something going on with you and Alex?”

The coffee machine whistled, steam rising. She moved to stop it.

“Nothing
is going on with Alex!”

“Then Nathan.”

I didn’t know why I asked that. Something inside told me Nathan wouldn’t date Jen, but I had to hear the words.

“The guy from the fair? Oh, please. He was rude! Besides, I only wanted the panda!”

My eyes probed her, and she shifted uncomfortably. “Jeez, what’s wrong with you? There’s no need to be weird. Perhaps you really
should
see Ellen.”             

 

Perhaps I should have ignored her, but during my lunch break, I found myself heading to Ellen’s house. I’d had enough of the questions in my life, and was determined to get some answers, no matter what I learned. She lived about ten minutes from the coffee house in a ground floor flat, so I knew I wouldn’t have much time to grab something to eat if I took too long. I ignored the shady looking characters loitering outside and knocked on the door. It was black, though the paint had chipped in many places. Her name was printed in gothic type outside on the wall, surrounded by a picture of the pentagram. I hesitated, and was ready to turn, but the door opened and Ellen stood before me. She wore a long flowing gown in deep purple, bringing out the violet in her eyes. Her long red hair was still in a plait over her shoulder. Her gaze fell down, and it was then I realised she was frowning at my neck.

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