The view of the moors from the window was amazing! How nature had managed to squeeze so much breathtaking beauty into one place was unfathomable. Anne breathed in the scene as she snuggled into the window seat and tucked her legs beneath her.
Normally, she would have been taken by the various green depths of the trees and rushed away on the twinkling of the brook as it skipped over the pebbles and reed bed below. On this occasion, it was the ochre burn of the setting sun on the sky-scraping heather hills above that captured her attention.
She cast her gaze for a moment towards the figure lying face downwards on the white cotton sheets of the rumpled bed. A fit of nervous giggles almost possessed her as the broad masculine form shifted and then slumbered on like a furless bear rug.
“What are you thinking?” It was more of an accusation than a question.
Anne focused her mind on composing her answer and smiled with a confidence she did not own. “I was just thinking how lucky I am to be here with you and have you safely back home.”
He reached over and lit himself a cigarette, pinching it to his mouth with his cupped hand as if the world was about to take it from him.
An explosive silence prowled the outskirts of the room and Anne watched as his mind struggled to digest her answer. She prayed inwardly that the old Billy would win. The prayers went unanswered.
“How many men have you been with while I was banged up in that hell hole?”
The menacing calmness with which he asked the question ignited a welcome beacon to the sinister shadows lurking in the dark corners of the bedroom. She considered rising and walking towards him and then decided to remain where she was. The world outside the window was within her reach as long as she held on tightly enough.
“I haven’t been with anyone else, Billy. You know that, don’t you? There’s only ever been you for me and that’s how it always will be.”
She leaned over and patted the paisley patterned cushion beside her. “Please come over here and join me.” All her energies were concentrated in making her request a warm invitation rather than the demand she knew he might perceive it to be.
Eventually, he broke and snuffed both the cigarette and silence out. “Can’t tell you how much I’ve missed that view. I remember me Ma telling me once that you could get lost in time on the moors. When she were a lass, a young ‘un went missing and turned up twenty years later without ageing a day!”
The shadows receding again, Billy arrived on the seat beside her. Anne wrapped her arms around him and kissed him joyfully on the lips.
“I love you, Billy!” she cheerfully announced to the room.
“Aye... I love you an’ all that.”
Anne held him close as she stared over the expanse of his shoulders and into what little future they had left.
***
So much had changed over the past few months that Anne had no idea where or how to start. Christmas had never looked bleaker. There was nowhere to go, nowhere to turn and she knew that they could not stay here forever. It had been kind of her aunt and uncle to take them in but they needed to find a place of their own.
Tears pricked her eyes and to avoid them she turned her attention back to the young priest sipping his tea opposite. She stifled a giggle. The situation was so bloody desperate it was almost laughable. She wanted to scream out, "Oh yes Father – you can help all right! You can start by telling all those sanctimonious swine who call themselves good Catholics to stop blanking us and judging our children! You can tell them to help in finding us somewhere to live rather than refusing to rent us a house! You can tell them to go to hell!”
Instead, aware of the fact that Father Bailey was a good, kind man and a true Christian who did not deserve her bile, she swallowed the words and her bitterness with a mouthful of tea. He was no more responsible for the actions of a few of his parishioners than she was for those of her husband and father.
“So, Anne, the Church and myself are here for you whenever you need us. I will keep my eyes and ears open and let you know if I hear of anyone who has a few rooms spare. I am sure we will be able to sort something out. Now, work for Billy could be a problem but I am sure something will turn up.”
“If not, I should be able to find work,” she managed to say with a smile.
A short while later, a continuous blanket of snow was falling as Anne showed Father Bailey out of the small terraced house and watched him walk away down Market Street. The oldest three of her children were huddled together on a patch of spare ground some distance away from a much larger group of rough looking and sparsely clad children who were building a snowman. Anne assumed that as usual they had not been invited to join in.
Gathering together a handful of snow that had fallen on the window ledge she moulded it into a snowball and threw it in the direction of her children and shouted, “Give me five minutes to get ready and I’ll join you for a snowball fight!” Her heart soared as she listened to their delighted screams; it felt good to learn she still had a heart, no matter how broken and bruised she felt.
“Mrs Lawrence?”
Anne turned to face a lady she assumed to be in her thirties and who was dressed head to toe in grey. She wondered how on earth she had failed to notice her when Father Bailey left.
“Yes?”
The lady extended a gloved hand. “Mabel. I am an associate of Mr Birch, the gentleman who represented your husband at his trial.”
“Oh! Yes...” Anne wiped her damp hand on the fabric of her tweed skirt and reached for the one that had been offered to her.
“Do you mind if I come in for a minute? I won’t keep you long. Only, Mr Birch asked me to call and advise that there is a situation vacant within our organisation which may suit Mr Lawrence. It offers the benefit of living accommodation and he...”
Anne interrupted, “A position with rooms?”
“Yes,” Mabel smiled encouragingly. “Mr Birch wondered if Mr Lawrence might be interested?”
“What kind of a situation?” Anne asked suspiciously.
“General office duties. A few telephone calls, greeting and meeting people – that sort of thing.”
Anne’s heart grew heavier. "I’m afraid Billy has no training in that area. Why would Mr Birch think that he did?”
“Well,” replied Mabel. “There is no training, really, that would ready him for a position with RoYds – none other than life experience that is...”
The Myna Bird Café was a small, overcrowded café on the inside market that served excellent, wholesome food at prices most locals could afford. A talking Myna bird sat in a large cage placed in one of the corners and contributed in his unique way to the eccentric and somewhat avant-garde atmosphere.
The café had always been a special place for Elizabeth to visit. The tea always tasted delicious and the buttered, toasted teacake filled and satisfied an empty place within her that sometimes only food could reach.
“May I sit down?”
Before the words had been spoken she had known that they were coming. Without looking up, she stirred the tea and wiped her fingers upon a paper napkin.
“Keep bleeding, keep keep bleeding love...” sang the happy Myna bird, hopping along to the song playing on the radio.
“Of course.” She had already planned what she would say when this moment came.
RoYds veteran and one of Whituth’s longest residents, Lady Mabel Theawicke, pulled the chair to one side. Elizabeth asked the approaching waitress for another tea cup and giving into temptation ordered a second toasted teacake.
“I’m living dangerously today,” she remarked sarcastically to the grey lady who was now sitting facing her.
Lady Mabel chuckled. “Why? What's so different about today?”
The waitress arrived with the extra cup and Elizabeth poured tea for Lady Mabel before speaking, “I hadn’t realised...” she said hesitantly, having been thrown slightly by her discovery.
“Realised what?” asked Lady Mabel.
“That you can’t read me the way I can you.”
Lady Mabel was slightly annoyed with the young woman’s superior attitude. “At times, you are more like your grandfather, Billy Lawrence, than you realise! I may be unable to read you but I like to think that I understand you a little more than perhaps you give me credit for.”
The toasted teacake arrived and Elizabeth cut it into quarters. “If you don’t mind, I would like to eat this while it's still warm. Is there something you wanted to say?” Elizabeth bit into the delicious buttery bread.
“Should I waste my breath -– if I had any?” Lady Mabel asked sharply.
Elizabeth put the teacake down and took a sip of tea. “All right, I will make it easy for both of us, shall I? I’m staying. Today, tomorrow and possibly for -– ever.”
“Ever is such a long time, you may not always feel so adamant. Time has a way of making you see things differently,” Lady Mabel stated matter-of-factly.
“You cut me open...” sang the Myna bird, climbing the bars of his cage.
Lady Mabel stood up and, lowering her face to meet Elizabeth's, she whispered icily, “Even death is no escape for some of us.”
Elizabeth shivered and the Myna bird screeched wildly as it frantically threw itself against the bars of the cage.
***
Elizabeth looked out of the side window of the café and studied the dark clouds forming in the sky above. Perhaps she had just enough time to make it to RoYds before the rain came? She decided to risk it. Grabbing her black leather handbag she ran over to the corner and retrieved her precious red coat from the coat stand. Hurriedly, fastening the belt of the coat, she furtively glanced over to take yet another look at the weather and caught her reflection in the window glass. The deep cherry colour of the wool really suited her.
Just as Elizabeth crossed Cotton Row and turned the corner into Market Street, the rain began coming down in buckets. She ran past the overcrowded doorway of the Whituth Co-op and scooted into the nearest available doorway on the opposite side of the road a few shops down. Damn! The last thing she wanted was to get wet! One of the lapels had already begun to curl upwards and she smoothed it down in exasperation.
“Hey, lady!”
Elizabeth watched as a young American serviceman darted across the road to join her.
“Excuse me, Ma’am. You wouldn’t happen to know what movie is playing at the Regal tonight, would you?”
She shook her head. “No idea, sorry.”
“Don’t you like movies?”
“Yes, sometimes.” She couldn’t help smiling. The young officer had movie star looks and a pleasant way about him.
“But you don’t get to go out much, right? How about going with me to watch one right this minute?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t.” She concentrated on flatting the rebellious lapel. The young man removed his hat and bent down towards her. She caught the scent of cologne as he grinned cheekily up at her.
“OK. Dancing! How about dancing? You like dancing, right?”
He wasn’t much younger than her. In fact, he could have been about the same age or even older. His jet black hair and copper-hued skin gave him an exotic look. She smiled back at him sheepishly.
“Look -– I'm very flattered, but I’m not going to the movies or dancing with you or anyone else. Not tonight or any other night for that matter.”
He looked hurt at her answer and standing straight hung his head slightly to one side adopting an exaggeratedly sad expression.
“Aww... There’s no need to be like that lady... I was only looking for a bit of company before I fly out tomorrow, that’s all.”
Elizabeth laughed, rolled her eyes playfully and said, “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be short. Look, why don’t you call in at the Halfway House, the pub across the road? I’m sure you will find some company there.”
The officer shook his head and then stared at her with solemn black eyes. “Lady, I thought you would understand... I kinda got the feeling that you... Oh, never mind. I must have been mistaken! Sorry I troubled you, Ma’am.”
He made to step out of the doorway and Elizabeth spontaneously reached out and touched his arm. “Just one moment please. What do you think you misunderstood? What did you mean when you said that?"
He looked sideways at her before re-entering the shelter of the doorway and half-smiled.
“You’re going to laugh at me, lady... But... I know I’m going to die tomorrow. I woke up this morning and death let me know he was going to pay me a visit. I've always known things before they happen... It's something that’s been with me all my life.”
Tears pricked Elizabeth’s eyes as she closed them for a split second and saw a vision of him trapped inside a burning aircraft. Opening them again, she nodded and smiled softly at him.
“And you thought I would understand?”
“Yeah, lady. You know he’s coming for me too, don’t you? I saw it in your eyes...”
“What’s your name?” Elizabeth enquired gently.
“Sivanesan. Most of my friends call me Siva. You can call me Siva if you like,” he grinned broadly.
“Well, Siva, all that happened a long time ago now...”
In a story spanning many lifetimes, we follow Elizabeth Whyte's journey as she investigates the supernatural and seeks information about her own past, all while trying to keep a balance between the light and the
darkness in her work for an agency known as the Refuge of Delayed Souls.
