In the Shadows (The Blaisdell Chronicles) (6 page)

Inner voice?

She handed me the paper. “This is my address. Stop by anytime if you decide you want my help.”

“Where are you going? Aren’t you here to meet Jen? She’s back that way.”

Ellen
answered over her shoulder.

“I didn’t come here to see Jen.”

Fed up of waiting, I headed back to the dance-floor, searching for a familiar face in the sea of heads. I spotted Alex paying for a bottle of water at the bar, and I was ready to meet him, when Jen appeared from behind, arms covering him like ivy. She tugged his arm, and led him onto the dance-floor. A hand clenched around my heart. I wasn’t sure if Jen wanted him or if she was just flirting, but it still hurt. I didn’t know why though. I tried to put it down to Alex’s reluctance to ignore her and check on me. But I knew that wasn’t the real reason. They were both single and free to do as they pleased. It’s not as if he was with me, was it? I gathered my poise and was about to make my way to the
ladies, when I saw Jonathan in the crowd again, standing behind the same pole. Or was it a pillar? He met my gaze and stepped out. At that same moment, the modern dance-floor disappeared, and I was back in a ballroom from the past. The dancers were now dressed more elegantly, and were now dancing more gracefully to a quartet. Jonathan cut through the crowd towards me, but his appearance had transformed. He was wearing the best quality buckskin breeches, highly shined Hessian boots, a crisp, white shirt and a smart grey overcoat. Stopping mere inches from me, he extended his hand towards mine. Icy blue eyes pinned me, and his lips curved into a smile.

“May I have the pleasure of a dance, my lady?”

Warmth sifted over my skin, only for the temperature to slowly disappear. It was everything Lucia had dreamed of, but knew couldn’t happen. An earl’s by-blow would never be able to publicly be seen with the daughter of a highly respected gentleman such as her father. As I offered my hand, the images vanished and I was back in the present. I tried finding Jonathan and was certain I saw him walking away. I wasn’t going to let him go so easily. I pushed my way through the bodies, desperate to find him. I ran outside, stopping only to ask the doorman if he’d seen anyone leave, but he shook his head. The winter chill blew harder, causing my long hair to whip my reddening cheeks.

Not long after my alarm clock had sounded, my phone had started to beep. It was a text from Jen, the third since Saturday morning. She wanted to know why I left the nightclub early on Friday. Perhaps I should have answered her by now, but I still had no idea what to say.

Sorry, Jen. I left because I was following a ghost.

I pulled back my curtains. Swollen dark clouds stretched the sky. The air was thick and damp with the threat of rain. I wanted to crawl back into bed and forget about going to work, but Mum’s holler from downstairs prevented that pleasing idea.

As I walked into the kitchen, I caught a whiff of something burning. The smoke alarm sounded, and Mum stood on a chair, limply waving a tea towel. Derek made for the stove.

“Careful, love, or you’ll burn the place down.”

Mum stepped off the chair when the noise stopped, ushering Derek to move. “I didn’t mean to leave it so long. I was just curious about our new neighbours.”

She passed me a stack of toast that was hiding behind the toaster. “Be a pet, and on your way home tonight, go and introduce yourself. Invite whoever’s there to a dinner.”

I nodded through a mouth crammed with toast. As I fetched my bag and coat, Derek stopped me in the hallway.

“You’ve a letter.”

I pushed the envelope into my trousers pocket without checking it. “Thanks.”

He cleared his throat. “Are you coming to the Fireworks Display with us this evening? It would make your mother very happy.”

I looked back to see Mum still craning her neck out the window.

“And me,” he added. “I’d be delighted if you would join us.”

I pressed my lips together. I didn’t hate Derek, although my actions often indicated otherwise. I shifted uncomfortably and looked away. “I’ll see how I feel after work.”

Derek’s shoulders sagged, already interpreting my answer. “Ah well, never mind. Have a good day, then.”

“You’re finally here!” Jen cried when I arrived at work. “I’ve got some
terrible
news. Dad wants us to put up the Christmas decorations.” She pointed at a large, dusty cardboard box, glittery colours peeping through cracks.

“But November’s only just started.”

“I told him that, too.” She threw her hands in the air. “Oh, I wish I’d told him I was sick this morning.”

Worrying about my friendship with Jen, I began to garble. “About Friday night. I’m sorry I left so early. It’s just that I didn’t feel very well—”

Jen dismissed the topic with a flick of her hand, so I decided to change the subject. “How did you get home?”

She stood up, pushing the chair back in. “I got a lift from a guy I met at the bar.
Daniel. We rode on his motorbike, and it was so much fun! He was such a badass on that bike!”

“Hadn’t he been drinking?” The question was out before I could stop it.

She frowned. “Of course. We both had. But the best part was when the police started chasing us.”

“Jen! How could you?”

Jen let out a long groan. “Don’t be such a killjoy. I’m still here, aren’t I? Besides, the part about the police wasn’t true. Although, that
would
have been amazing.”

I was only concerned, but Jen didn’t seem bothered about her safety. I should be thankful she was all right.

“I thought all girls wanted to be the one to tame a bad boy. It’s in our nature, after all.”

I let my anger deflate in a long sigh. “Well, I guess we’d better get on with things.”

“I know! Lucy, you can put up the decorations and I’ll serve the customers. You don’t mind, do you?”

Jen didn’t wait for a reply, and headed towards the till. As soon as I turned the ‘Closed’ sign to ‘Open,’ a handful of customers entered the coffee house and began to form a queue. Moving aside, I found the stepladder and opened the box, laying out the tinsel and other decorations on a table. I picked up a foil angel, and remembered the stranger’s warning. Ignoring the sudden fluctuation in my pulse, I grabbed some pins and climbed the ladder. I wasn’t quite tall enough to reach the ceiling, so I stood on my tiptoes, only for the ladder to wobble. I tried steadying myself, but I stumbled and landed in someone’s arms.
Alex
. Once again, the dizzy feeling returned, and I was glad when he set me down.

“That’s twice now you’ve fallen into my arms. Anyone would think it was deliberate.”

“It wasn’t,” I replied, looking away.

He regarded me steadily for a few moments. “You left without saying goodbye on Friday. I was worried.”

“I felt better, but saw you with Jen—”

My hands covered my mouth as soon as I’d given myself away.

Alex came closer. Slowly, I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze.

“Believe me,” he said, “I wanted to get back to you, but she was quite determined to have one dance. As soon as I could escape, I tried to find you.”

“Oh.”

Alex grinned. “Were you jealous?”

“No!” I spoke in a rush. “I mean, it’s just that you’ve known her longer. Three weeks is quite a long time.”

We both knew it wasn’t, but I’d already started my defence, so I might as well continue.

“And she is really attractive, isn’t she?”

Alex didn’t look. His hand brushed an errant lock of hair from my face, the contact making me feel strange again. Before I could understand it, he went to the counter. I never lost awareness of his presence, even after he’d bought his usual Danish pastry and black coffee. I could feel him watching as he sat down, deliberately taking longer over his food, until his coffee must have gotten cold long ago. After he left, something again made me recall the stranger’s warning.

I closed the coffee shop door behind me with a thud. A heavy raindrop splashed on the end of my nose. Wiping it away, I pulled up my hood, waved goodbye to Jen and Mr Whitmore, and ran until I reached the bus. By the time I got to my street, the rain had ceased. Pausing outside my house, I looked over my shoulder at the house opposite. The removal van had gone, and the streetlight revealed a black BMW now parked on the driveway of the sold house. No lights were on inside, and I had the unsettling feeling I was being watched. Quickly, I went in, peeking around the front door as I slowly closed it, hoping nobody had followed me.

Derek stretched like a lion after dinner, and Mum took the empty plates to the dishwasher.

“Are you coming to the Fireworks Display?” she asked. “Come on. We’ll treat you to some candy floss.”

Derek waited for my answer. I had been considering it, but something about that new house had me intrigued.

“I’m really tired. But I’ll stop by the new neighbour’s for you. I know you were curious this morning.”

Derek rose abruptly, keeping his eyes away from mine, as he helped Mum into her suede coat.

“Well, all right. Have a good evening.” She headed for the front door. Derek waited for a moment, as if he had something to say, but Mum called for him and they left together.

As I crossed the street, a familiar, yet unknown, scent lured me nearer. At the side of the house, behind a wrought iron gate, a tall, dark figure was looking up at the sky. He appeared to be brooding; his dark hair and dark clothes matching the mood he was projecting. Since he was ignoring my presence, I decided to speak up.

“Hello.”

He turned round and I nearly gasped. His face was full of hard angles, just like the stranger I’d seen briefly in the alleyway.

And then I saw his icy blue eyes, piercing the darkness like moonbeams.

Jonathan?

“Yes?” he asked, his tone flat and cold.

“Hi,” I stammered. “I live across the street in number 10. My name is Lucy Blaisdell.”

He shrugged. “
Anything else?”

I blinked. “
Erm, it’s a bit of a coincidence, but we’ve met before.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“I’m sure we have. You gave me that warning in the alleyway. And your eyes...” I trailed off when those same eyes blazed with annoyance.

“You’re mistaken.”

I knew he was lying, but why?

Shaking his head, he turned to leave. I had to stop him. The gate opened easily and I caught up to him, just as he was opening the back door of the house.

“Wait—”

My hand touched his arm, and I was lost to a darker world. 

The waning sun had hid behind the greying clouds, or was it the smoke from the cannons? Rifles fired, soldiers fell to the ground like rain, blood staining the battlefield. I charged forward, ordering my men to attack. I saw one, fired my pistol, killing him in an instant. Another came too close, and was gutted by my sword. I didn’t care how a life ended. I was hungry for blood, my inner rage my strongest weapon. Everyone would suffer along with me.              

I located the youth, barely ten and eight years, struggling to reload his rifle. A Frenchman marched towards him pointing his sword, a cruel smirk under his thick moustache. In his panic, the youth dropped his knife. I tried to reach him, but it was too late. I howled my anger, kicking the surprised Frenchman to the ground, his sword knocked from his hand. He tried to regain it, but I rained heavy punches on his face, revelling in his cries for mercy. Baring my teeth, my hands grabbed his throat. I squeezed, until his lifeline gave out.

I stepped back, my hands on my throat, struggling to breathe. Another bang sounded and I jumped. The cannon! I tried to run away, but my actions were halted when a masculine voice called out my name.

The tone rang with concern, and something about it made me reconsider my actions. Looking around, I realised I wasn’t on the battlefield anymore. I turned back and found myself beginning to calm, as his icy blue eyes met mine. He waved a hand, indicating the pretty colours scattered in the night sky.

“Are you all right?” he repeated. He stood under the glow from the security light above the door and took a step forward, his hand reaching out, but something made him pause.

I opened my mouth but nothing came out. My head was scrambled from the nightmarish images, and I couldn’t make any sense of it in his presence. I had to get away. In my haste, I almost collided with the heavy gate, which had since closed behind me. I tried pulling it open, but found it wouldn’t move. Why couldn’t I leave? A tall shadow appeared from behind, and I looked up to see his hand easily push the gate open. I wasted no more time, and ran towards my home, feeling his strong stare on my back as I pulled the door shut behind me.

I made a hot chocolate, added three marshmallows, and sunk onto the sofa. I considered the images, my body shuddering at the carnage I’d witnessed. I banished those thoughts and recalled Jonathan’s sweetness that day by the river, but it was no good; it had been stained by his brutality. He’d been the one on the battlefield. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to sleep, I switched on the stereo, and lay on the settee, not caring what music was on. It was Derek’s favourite station. Opera music. Something about the words calmed my fears. I closed my eyes and I saw myself in the past. I was the one singing in the soprano voice.

Father stood proud behind Mother, who sat in a chair, her face pale and her belly heavily swollen. She forced a smile for me when the song was over.

“Bravo!” he applauded.

“That was wonderful, my dear,” she said.

“Thank you, Mama.”

“Yes, it was—
ohh!” Mother grabbed her belly, as she collapsed onto the floor.

I heard her screams from outside her room. It seemed to go on for hours. Midwives rushed in and out, but they wouldn’t allow me even a glimpse. Soon, the screams ended. I waited for the baby’s cry, but it never came.

The lunch hour rush was over at the coffee house. Jen had been telling me about her weekend, but my mind was still preoccupied. I remembered Roger’s anger when Mum miscarried a boy. Roger had always wanted a son to play football with, but as Mum tried to cope with her grief, he blamed her for everything. I hated him for lashing out, but I never thought he’d go as far as he did. I pushed my pain aside. There must be a reason for the parallels in my past and present, but I didn’t want to consider it.

“So, did you have a good weekend?” Jen asked.

“Yes, thanks.”

“Really? What did you do? See any fireworks?”

I recalled the cannons and the battlefield images and shuddered in revulsion. “I didn’t see any fireworks. I stayed in.”

Jen’s fist met her hip. “God, Lucy. You really do need to get out more. How about coming to the funfair with me? It’s only in town for a couple of nights.”

Realising how I sounded, I gave her a nod. We made arrangements to go the next evening and Jen said she’d pick up tickets on her lunch break.

By three o’clock, the coffee house was empty and Jen still hadn’t returned. Fed up with waiting, I tried looking for something to do, but everything was already clean. I tried learning how to play the spoons, but only ended up dropping them. I moved the tables and chairs around to see if I could make more room, but realised they were fine the way they were. I slumped in a booth, my head resting on my fist. The constant ticking and tock-ing of the wall clock grew so loud and repetitive it almost shattered my brain. Unable to stand anymore, I moved to the counter, and it was there I saw the dusty radio peeking out from behind the grill. Blowing off the dust, I switched it on; happy it still worked and found a suitable station. Remembering my happiness at the nightclub, I began to sing along and move my body to the beat.

A nudge on my shoulder made me squeak in surprise. I spun around, surprised to see the person I found standing in front of me, offering a slow, teasing smile. Shaking free of his beautiful gaze, I switched off the radio and returned with my eyes lowered, recalling what had happened last night.

“You have a good singing voice. Beautiful, in fact.”

“Not really,” I mumbled, moving behind the counter, in a vain effort to hide my embarrassment. Perhaps he wouldn’t mention what happened. He might have put it down to my surprise from the fireworks. I could work with that. I tried to appear relaxed.

“Can I get you something? A sandwich or a Panini perhaps?”

He took a step closer, shaking his head. Awareness prickled my skin. How could he have such an effect on me?

I gestured to the glass counter. “We have muffins. Fresh today. We have blueberry, chocolate chip or cherry. Or perhaps you might like a cupcake? I can personally vouch for their yumminess.”

He shook his head.
He didn’t seem like the cupcake type anyway.

“A pastry then? Danish or apple cinnamon swirl?”

“No. Thank you.”

I swallowed hard. “Then, what do you want?”

He regarded me for a few moments and sighed. “The way I spoke to you was wrong. I was rude and didn’t behave in a gentleman-like manner. I’m sorry.”

I nodded once, folding my arms. He hadn’t mentioned me making an idiot of myself. Perhaps it was best not to say anything either. I remembered my question from yesterday; that he’d refused to acknowledge our first meeting. Would he lie again?

“Do you admit we’ve met before?”

His mouth opened to protest, but I cut him off.

“Please, don’t take me for a fool.”

Walking around the counter and edging closer made him step back a little, enough to heighten my curiosity. That familiar scent filled my nostrils again and I had the urge to see under his fingertips.

“Why did you lie?”

“I have my reasons,” he replied, silent amusement in his expression.

Still wanted to keep a reticence between us. My brow furrowed. As if he had sensed my trail of thoughts, he pivoted on his foot.

“Thank you for accepting my apology. Now I must take my leave.” He smiled warmly over his shoulder.

I had to stop him. “Wait. I still don’t know your name.”

He paused and looked back. “Forgive me. Nathan Harlow.”

Nathan. I closed my eyes, imagining his warm hand on my cheek again. My eyes opened, and I realised he was standing right in front of me, so close. If I didn’t move…

His voice lowered. “I
’m afraid wasn’t completely honest just now.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Oh?”

“I came here for another reason. I was worried about you.”

“You were?”

His face came closer, his head dipping. I tilted my head to the side slightly, hoping he’d notice my silent invitation. He blinked and inhaled sharply. “Lucy, I—”

There was a clatter as Jen pushed open the door, laughing as Alex followed her in.

“Hey, Lucy, look who I bumped into.” She turned to Alex. “I’ll just get your pastry and coffee.”

Alex came over, stopping in the same spot Nathan had occupied just a moment ago. “All right, Lucy?” He stared at Nathan, whose body had frozen and jaw was clenching. Alex flashed his brightest smile.

“Nathan, isn’t it? My father told me all about you. I’m Alex.”

Alex offered his hand, but Nathan just blinked at it, his muscles tensing.

As moments passed by, Alex chuckled in embarrassment. “Won’t you say anything?”

“Nathan?” I said softly. My hand was reaching for him, but instead he stomped past us, slamming the door shut. I frowned at Alex, but as he moved to speak, Jen pushed her way between us.

“Here you go, Alex.”

“Thanks. I just realised I’m late for something. See you around.” He took the bag and polystyrene cup and left the coffee shop, in the opposite direction Nathan had taken. Jen came to stand beside me at the glass window.

“Who was
that
you were talking to?”

“Nathan,” I answered truthfully.

“Nathan. Hmm.”

“He’s just my neighbour.” I played down that part. There was a lot more to Nathan than I knew.

Jen stared for a moment, before thankfully, she didn’t prod me anymore, and continued to tell me some jokes Alex had told her, but her voice soon became indistinct. I pressed a hand against the windowpane just as the rain started.

Jen howled with laughter. “And so the blind man said, ‘Sorry, I was just looking around!’ Isn’t that so funny?”

I turned round briefly, only just remembering she was still there. “Y-yeah, it’s great.”

What had happened just now? I was irritated at not knowing the answers. I’d have to find out.

“Lucy? I asked you a question.”

“Hmm?”

“I was asking you about your Dad. Have you heard any more from him?”

“No, I—” I broke off, remembering the letter in my pocket that Derek had handed me yesterday. “Wait a minute. I forgot I had this until you mentioned it.”

Nathan’s presence had made me forget.

“Is it from your father?”

“I don’t know,” I replied, although I had the unsettling feeling it wasn’t just a bank statement. Doubting she’d let it lie, I put my hand in my pocket. Taking it out, I instantly recognised the writing.

Lucy,

How could you do this to me? Haven’t I suffered enough after being in prison for nearly four years? I know your mother wouldn’t give our marriage another go, and she’s lost to me forever, but you were always the more sensible one. Why couldn’t you just give me one more chance? If you were still unhappy afterwards, I would have left you alone. But you couldn’t even grant me one small wish, could you? No matter. I won’t feel guilty anymore. Everything is on your conscience.

Roger

I closed my eyes in an attempt to calm my nerves and tensed my body, letting the letter fall to the floor. I was aware of Jen reading it as I paced the room. She caught me before I collapsed, and led me to a chair.  

“Wait there,” she whispered, and I watched as she busied herself making both of us a hot chocolate
.

Jen brought
over the tray with the steaming chocolate in the cups, the jar of marshmallows and the whipped cream can. She sat opposite, reassuring me with a smile. She indicated for me to take the marshmallows and cream, but I shook my head. Jen quickly grabbed the cream, spraying it on the drink, until it was teetering like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. She caught with her finger before it collapsed, licked it off, and dropped a couple of marshmallows on top. As I sipped the warm liquid, soothing as it lined my dry throat, I remembered Ellen’s details on the back of the paper.

“How did
Ellen help you?” I asked.

Jen considered the question,
using a spoon to scoop up the cream. “I always thought Mum would return one day. Even Dad thought so. But as time went on, it became more apparent that she’d forgotten about us altogether. I got angry and started stealing. It was just the odd lipstick or bar of chocolate. Nothing big. Dad had no idea. Too busy wallowing in self-pity. Seemed to forget I even existed. So I kept doing it and believed I could get away with anything. I started hanging around with a bad crowd, who wanted me to steal a car. The night before I had to do it, Ellen found me. I’d been alone in a park, wondering what to do. She said she’d heard my thoughts, and knew she had to reach out to me. She said everything that people do has a consequence, and knew there would be much pain for myself and those I care about, if I carried on down this path. She even showed me what would happen.”

She abruptly rose, and was about to leave, when she inclined her head over her shoulder.

“I can’t help but be envious of you. Even though you want to forget your Dad, at least he made the effort. As for my absent parent, well…”

She walked away, cup in hand. I stared after her,
wondering if her mother would ever get in touch.

I didn’t expect to see a silver glazed Mazda parked outside my house that evening. Still mulling over the identity of the owner, I walked into the kitchen, and was surprised to see Alex sat at the table with Derek, looking over some papers together, whilst Mum poured them some tea.

“Hello, petal,” said Mum. “Would you like some tea?”

I shook my head.

“Hi, Lucy. Did you have a good day?” Derek asked, removing his steel-rimmed spectacles.

“Yes, thanks.”

“Oh, Lucy, this is Mr Alex Craven. Mr Craven, this is my stepdaughter—”

“Lucy, yes I know. We’ve already met.”

Mum fanned her oversized eyelash extensions, which resembled butterflies sitting on her eyelids. “How so?”