Blackout

by Katy Mitchell

  Cecily watched Acantha waddle off. She was a portly lady of middle-age with short, curly, blond hair and round blue eyes. She reminded Cecily of a cherub angel. She always dressed in smart suits and she spoke with a bogus upper class accent. Most of the time, she behaved as if she were a member of the aristocracy, which was quite comical to watch, especially when she was in the presence of the Brambles, who actually were the aristocracy. But for all her affectations, she was benevolent and she had been good to Cecily. After all, she should have been fired many times over. Cecily took a deep breath and went into the staff room to stash her bag.

  “Here we go again,” she murmured, as she lowered her pinny over her head.

  Once out on the floor, Cecily executed a quick survey of how many customers were seated. She was quite surprised to see that it was fairly busy, with half of the tables already full. It then dawned on her that this was the first week of the Easter holidays. How could she have forgotten? Cecily groaned. She knew from experience that it would be heaving all day, not only with the regulars, but also with families taking their bored children out for the day.

  “Cecily!” She turned around at the sound of her name and came face to face with a very red-faced Joan, who was her supervisor. “You’re late! Take section A today.”

  “But I was on section A all last week, Joan!” Cecily pointed out irritably.

  “Well if you were on time once in a while, you would have a say in the matter!” retorted Joan. “Now get to work! There are three new tables in!”

  Quite frankly, Cecily felt like crying. She did not want section A, this week especially, because it was the biggest. It was only ten past nine and this Monday was already shaping up to be a terrible day.

  It took Cecily a few minutes to get her bearings and think about what had to be done. As she looked around, she realised that the college students who usually worked at the weekends were in, all dashing about, balancing plates of food with cups of beverages. Through the kitchen hatch, she noticed that John, the chef, was not alone today, as he usually was during the week, but that he was accompanied by Millicent Poole. Millie was in charge of the kitchen on the busy weekends and she filled in for John when he took his holidays. As Cecily did not work weekends, she rarely had the pleasure of the weekend staff. It was the Easter holidays and personalities would clash; the weekday staff versus the weekend staff. Great! And with that less than harmonious thought in her head, she grabbed an armful of menus and went to serve her customers, smile intact in the hope of large tips.

  Cecily worked at the legendary Lancashire manor house, Bramble Hall. Bramble Hall was a magnificent Tudor house, still independently owned by the Bramble family, which is more than could be said for other manor houses throughout the county. The Bramble family used to own much of the land surrounding the manor, including the village of Bramblegate (hence its name); however, over the years, the Brambles sold off their land in order to pay for the upkeep of their ancestral home. Nowadays, the house was open daily to the general public for tours. The Brambles had always been survivors.

  The house sat in twenty-six acres of gardens and ancient woodland. It took a team of six gardeners to tend the grounds of Bramble Hall, which included ponds and rockeries, lawns, gardens and the capacious Bramble Lake. The gardens were stunning and they encompassed the most beautiful flowers and plants all year round. The gatehouse to Bramble Hall stood at the far end of Bramblegate High Street. From there, the approach to the house was a gravel driveway that wound on for three quarters of a mile, up a slight incline and through the dense woodland. The woodland then opened up to reveal the magnificent manor house, accessible through the avenue of aged and sturdy oak trees, which towered over the remaining driveway like protective giants.

  Both the family and the house certainly had a chequered history. In their time, the aristocratic Brambles had been landowning gentry, collectors of taxes, advisors at court, artists, poets and writers. They had been involved in the slave trade, they had been members of Parliament and also patrons of leisure pursuits. The Brambles were infamous throughout the ages. This only added to the mystery and intrigue surrounding Bramble Hall, making it popular with the tourists and a very successful business indeed.

  Cecily worked in the Dairy, one of the outbuildings at Bramble Hall. This had been transformed into a tea room when the house first began to admit visitors nineteen years ago. During the last five years, the Dairy had been renovated to give it a more pleasant, sophisticated atmosphere as opposed to one that smelt like it still housed the cows. Cecily had been working at the Bramble Hall Tea Room for three years, since her last year at high school. It was just after her father had died and her mother had desperately needed some extra money. After she left school, her mother had still needed the extra money as ‘writing is an unstable business’ and so Cecily began to work at the tea room full-time and here she was still.

  ***

  Cecily had not stopped since she had arrived at the Dairy (as it was still often referred) that morning. She glanced at the clock. It was nearly eleven o’clock. She had not had a chance to speak to her regulars who usually tipped well as she had been so busy and now she had a headache from all the caterwauling children. She also felt faint and dizzy, owing to the fact that she had not had time for breakfast. Therefore, she was not in the mood when someone quite pointedly tapped her on the shoulder. Cecily inhaled deeply in order to keep her short fuse intact, when a voice said, “All right love, come here often?” Cecily spat out the breath she had just respired in a hysterical giggle, for she knew before she even turned around, that the voice which uttered this line delivered for her amusement, meant that the rest of this Monday at work would be bearable. For that voice belonged to her best friend in the whole world, Kaden.

  Chapter Four

  Cecily and Kaden had grown up together. Their mothers had become acquainted after the Stalk family moved into one of the three cottages in the dell, just below the village. The ladies were pregnant at the same time and so had a lot in common. You could not exactly call them friends though as Cecily’s mother was a difficult person to get along with at the best of times. Kaden and Cecily became firm friends over the years, always looking out for each other. Kaden arrived in this world precisely two days before Cecily and as the oldest of the duo, he always had the final say. Cecily was by no means a pushover and she could certainly take care of herself, it just seemed that Kaden had all the answers and he was usually right. Cecily felt blessed to have such a good friend. She would not have made it through the rough times without him.

  However, Kaden had experienced his own fair share of hardship. Kaden’s mother had died eight years ago. She had been battling breast cancer on and off for a couple of years when it finally took her. Kaden was devastated by the loss of his mother, but he remained stoic. He was ever the perfect son, even in the face of such adversity. Cecily truly did not feel worthy in his presence. She admired him for the way he composed himself, but at the same time, she could not wholly understand his calm and almost controlled behaviour.

  Kaden’s mother also left behind a husband, Kaden’s stepfather. They did not get on or see eye to eye on any subject. The truth was that Kaden’s stepfather drank a lot. He was retired early from his job as a factory worker after sustaining a back injury and he could no longer work for a living. Coupled with his wife’s death, the man was a shadow of his former self and he did not really seem to care if he lived or died. This attitude annoyed Kaden, but out of respect for his mother’s wishes, his stepfather remained at their home, although Kaden and he barely spoke.

  Even through all his struggles, Kaden was still there for Cecily. He was angelic. She often felt like she did not match up in the friend stakes. After her father’s death and the discovery of his body, she went to pieces. But that was all in the past now. Even if Cecily felt like she could never live up to Kaden, their bond was stronger than ever. They had both lost parents they adored; a tragic fact, but something they had in common nonetheless.<
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  “You didn’t tell me you were working today,” said Cecily in an accusatory tone.

  “I didn’t know I was,” drawled Kaden, looking over Cecily’s shoulder at the ever-increasing crowd of tourists seeking a table. “Acantha called me forty-five minutes ago and told me you were short-handed in here. And there was me thinking I’d get the first day of the holidays in bed! Not to worry, I could do with the cash anyway!” he added cheerily.

  Kaden had been studying for his A levels at the local college for the past two years while Cecily had been working at the Dairy. He worked part-time at the Dairy for a few hours on a Saturday and Sunday and he sometimes filled in at the gift shop. Cecily and Kaden rarely had the opportunity of working together, only during the holidays. However, this did not stop them spending the rest of their time together.

  “Has it been busy then?” enquired Kaden.

  “Horrendous!” replied Cecily. “And I was late again. Joan put me on section A. I haven’t stopped yet. Has she given you a section? You can cover for me if you like. I’m so tired. And hungry. I didn’t have time for breakfast this morning…”

  Cecily was so desperate for a break and something to eat that the words powered out of her mouth like a high-speed train. Kaden and Cecily looked at each other for a moment and then burst into laughter. In turn, this eruption earned Cecily the dirtiest of looks from both Dawn and Cherry, two girls who were at college with Kaden and who were also weekend staff at the Dairy. However, Cecily was used to receiving less than complimentary comments from jealous girls when she was in Kaden’s company. To say he was handsome was an understatement.

  Standing at six feet and one inch, Kaden resembled a Greek god. He was of medium build, he was toned and muscular and he had a slight tan no matter the time of year. Kaden had bright blue eyes and a strong jaw which was set with two dimples, one either side of a mouth full of white teeth. A mop of floppy, blond hair only added to his appeal. But Kaden’s most attractive features were his charisma and presence. He radiated warmth. He was also a genuinely nice guy. Cecily often felt like she had been robbed when she was with him. How could so many good qualities belong to one person? It did not seem fair.

  “You go and ask old Joan if you can have a break then. I’ll cover your section,” said Kaden.

  He must have noticed Cecily looking over at Dawn and Cherry.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Oh nothing!” sighed Cecily. “Just the usual.”

  “Ignore them,” smiled Kaden, taking her by the shoulders and rocking her gently back and forth.

  “Oh, don’t worry, I will!” replied Cecily. “Right, I’ll go and find Joan. What kind of name is Cherry anyway?” Cecily commented as she loped away. “It’s a fruit, not a name.”

  She heard Kaden laughing at her perception of the matter.

  ***

  Five minutes later, Cecily was sitting at the back of the tea room in the quietest corner, away from her customers. She was perusing the menu, trying to decide what she wanted for her lunch. However, no matter how hungry she felt, she just could not focus on the menu. Now she had time to think, her feelings from earlier that morning were beginning to manifest themselves again. Deep down, Cecily knew these dreams were a problem. As she played the images out in her head, she realised how vivid they were becoming. She wondered how long it would be before she could piece the images together in order to form a story. This thought worried her. Surely her imagination was not that good. What concerned her the most though was the idea that she was, in fact, crazy. Just like everyone thought. Just like her mother thought.

  Cecily was so deeply lost in the corners of her mind, she did not realise that Kaden was stood in front of her.

  “Woo hoo, Cecily… Earth to Cecily… are you receiving me?” Kaden was waving his hand up and down furiously in front of her face.

  “Oh sorry,” said Cecily in a monotone voice. “I didn’t see you there. I was daydreaming.”

  “Or worrying about something,” muttered Kaden under his breath. “Why were you late again this morning, Cec? It’s not like we had a late one last night.”

  “I didn’t sleep very well so I just couldn’t get up with my alarm clock when it went off.”

  She felt Kaden eyeing her suspiciously, probably searching for any hint that would give her away.

  “It’s the dreams, isn’t it? Cecily, if they are bothering you, go and see that doctor again. You can’t carry on like this. You’re practically a zombie!”

  “I’m not going back to that doctor, Kaden!” snapped Cecily. “I’m not crazy!”

  “I didn’t say you were! He could help you! Christ, I could help but you won’t talk to me! I don’t know what to do!”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Well, what happened last night to keep you awake? The dreams, are they getting worse?” The cautious manner of Kaden’s question was evident in his tone of voice. In turn, Cecily averted her eyes from Kaden’s prying ones.

  Every time she drifted off to sleep, she could hear the cries of war. She could smell the sweat and blood and she could feel the harsh resistance of the sword as she plunged it into the broken body beneath her. But it was the shadows. She just could not fathom the shadows. When she first started to have the dreams, the shadows were present, but they seemed to be in some far off place, like she could only see them out of the corner of her eye. Now when she awoke, it was as if the shadows crossed the boundaries of dreamland into her reality and into her room. She felt them everywhere. Cecily was frightened. Yet should she be scared of the shadows because they were real, or should she be scared because they were not? The latter meant she was clinically insane.

  The mental showdown played itself out in her head.

  “In the red corner, we have rational thinking and in the blue corner, we have preposterous thought!”

  It felt like a psychological boxing match and she could even imagine the commentator, complete with tuxedo and microphone. Once the bell rang, Cecily’s two lines of thought would meet in the middle and thrash it out to see who would be the winner in all of this madness. And that is what it was, utter madness. Cecily’s rationality told her that shadows only existed when an object or person blocked the light. They did not have a life of their own and they were certainly nothing to be afraid of. But then her fantastical thoughts and feelings, the ones that kept her company in the dark, dead of night, urged her to fear them. She could feel it in her gut. There was no such thing as reason in the dark, dead of night. And so, the battle between rationality and the nonsensical, reality and the fantastical, raged on in her head on a daily basis. One thing was for sure, if she did not find a resolution soon, she would be donning a straitjacket and travelling on a one-way ticket to crazytown.

  This thought made her head hurt.

  “I’m fine, Kaden, really.” Cecily’s retort made it clear to Kaden that she did not want to discuss the matter any further. But this fact did not discourage Kaden from his course. Although Cecily’s eyes were fixed on the menu, she could detect that he was hovering. After a couple of minutes’ silence, he tried tentatively to strike up their conversation again, only she was ready for him.

  “Cecily…”

  “I don’t want to talk about!” she snapped.

  “Listen, I was just going to ask you if you wanted to get some fish and chips tonight. Then maybe meet up with the others for a couple of hours? It would take your mind off things.”

  “I don’t know, Kaden. I really should try and get some sleep.”

  “Please, Cec! I’m worried about you.” Kaden’s pleading made it very difficult for Cecily to say no. That and the fact that the last thing she wanted to do was sleep. Plus, there was no food in the house anyway.

  “OK,’ she agreed. “Call round for me at six.”

  Cecily stalked over to the counter to order her lunch. It seemed today that even Kaden could not improve her mood.

  ***

  Cecily barely saw Kaden for the rest of the aft
ernoon, the lunchtime rush saw to that. But every time they passed each other, in the kitchen or on the floor, she was aware of the worry lines furrowing Kaden’s brow. Should she talk to him and reveal her craziness? He was her best friend, maybe he could help. But to say it out loud would be to make it real.

  Around quarter past four, the crowds had depleted and this gave the staff in the Dairy an opportunity to clean up and get ready for the next day. As the tea room closed at five, the part-time workers had been sent home an hour before. Cecily was performing the tedious task of refilling the salt and pepper pots when she heard Acantha’s navy-blue court shoes trotting towards her.

  “Cecily!” shrilled Acantha. “Joan said we are out of serviettes. Be a dear, run along to the store and fetch a box, would you?”

  “No problem,” she sighed.

  Cecily put down her funnel and walked over to the door of the Dairy. She bounded out into the fresh spring air for the first time since arriving at work that morning. The store was in the main kitchen of Bramble Hall. Cecily ambled round to the back of the house, enjoying the warm sunshine on her face as she went and made her way down the stone steps of the basement entrance of the kitchen. She looked around the deserted kitchen for signs of life, although she knew that no one would be there. All of the preparation for the evening meal was done and the day shift had gone home. In an hour or so, the night shift would arrive to cook the Brambles their evening meal. The usually bustling kitchen was as silent as a graveyard at midnight.

  Cecily passed the large butcher’s block in the middle of the main area as she headed towards the door of the store at the back of the kitchen. As she rounded the corner, she suddenly yelped out in pain. “Ouch!” Someone had left a mop bucket in the middle of the floor and she had kicked it. Hopping on one leg whilst nursing the other injured one, she noticed that she had spilt dirty mop water all over the floor. Fantastic, she thought to herself. As Cecily bent down to pick up the mop, which was now strewn across the floor, she had a feeling that she was not alone. It was a fleeting moment. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as she shuddered. Cecily got up quickly and looked around. She was always freaked out by Bramble Hall, especially when she was in some part of it by herself. It was all the legends and ghost stories she had been told a million times over playing tricks with her mind. She reprimanded herself for being so silly, after all, she had never seen one ghost in the three years she had worked at the house. She resumed her task of mopping up the smelly water, when without warning, there it was again. She felt invisible eyes boring into the back of her head. She hastily finished cleaning up and removed the mop and bucket so no one else would fall over it.