Within Darkness

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Within Darkness Page 10

by C J M Naylor


  I brushed aside the thoughts and moved the letter to the side, but there was no pocket watch. There were a couple of things that had belonged to my mother and a few things from my father, but nothing else. Where was the pocket watch? I had put it in here; there was no doubt about it. I remembered when I packed everything before we left London. It had been in here. And now it wasn’t.

  My attention was suddenly drawn to my open door, to the door to Ian’s room, directly across the hall from mine. Surely not. I took a deep breath and stood up, slowly making my way out of my room and to Ian’s door, placing my hand on the doorknob. When I attempted to turn it however, the knob barely turned. It was locked. Why would he lock his bedroom door? I jiggled the handle again, as if it would suddenly come unlocked, but there was no success.

  I sighed and went back to my room to get dressed for my date with Thomas, trying to convince myself I was overreacting. Why would Ian take the pocket watch that Bessie had given me? How would he even know about it? I had never said anything about it to him, at least not to my knowledge. The only way he would know about it was if he knew Bessie.

  “No,” I said out loud. “Stop this. You’re overreacting.” But was I?

  Regardless of whether I was overreaching or not, I walked to my door and immediately shut it, turning the lock so it was just me inside the room, even though there was no one in the apartment with me. I began to get dressed, deciding to wear the same dress that I had worn the night I had first met Thomas. But as I did so, I no longer felt safe within my own apartment.

  The Balboa Cafe wasn’t anything over-the-top, but it was a great place to sit down and have a hamburger. As we waited for our food to arrive, Thomas and I mulled over the events of the day and I asked him his thoughts about Councilor Headrick.

  “I’m with you on the idea that there is something there,” Thomas responded. “However, we need to be careful. We don’t want to tip her off on anything, and we also do not want her to be our enemy. I’m not saying she is working with anyone in particular, but whether she is or not, she is still heading up the Council and could do a lot of damage if that is what she wanted.”

  I nodded in response to this and then moved the subject of the conversation to Ian. “I tried to go into his room before I left tonight. The door was locked. It’s something I’ve never noticed before, but it definitely struck me as odd. The only reason I could come up with for locking a door in your own home would be if you were intent on hiding something.”

  Thomas considered this. “Why were you snooping anyway?”

  “My mother’s pocket watch,” I responded. “I went to get it and it wasn’t where I left it, and I know I left it there. I’m sure of it. I got suspicious and decided to try Ian’s room, but like I said, the door was locked.”

  Our food arrived and the smell of freshly-cooked hamburgers and french fries momentarily distracted me from the conversation at hand. I dug into my food, slicing the hamburger in half, and then taking a big bite. As I savored the hamburger, I looked up to see that Thomas wasn’t eating. He was staring at me, or at least he was looking at me, but it looked more like he was lost in his own thoughts. Finally, he spoke.

  “We have to find out what this prophecy is about. Without it, we are just running around blind and we have no idea what the plan is, nor who is involved.”

  I swallowed my food and then responded. “You’re right, but let’s forget about it for a bit. It’s best not to let yourself be consumed by these thoughts. Try your burger, I bet it’s as delicious as mine.”

  He smirked at me. “Since when did you become such a wise one?” He picked up his burger and took a bite. I knew he enjoyed it as soon as he sat back and closed his eyes, swallowing his food.

  “I’ve always been wise,” I responded. “Now, shut up and keep eating.”

  He did as he was asked.

  When we finally left the Balboa Cafe, night had fallen upon the city. I looked to Thomas to say our goodbyes, but his expression told me the night was just beginning for him.

  “Surely you aren’t leaving yet?” he asked me.

  “I was going to,” I responded. “Unless there is something else you had in mind?”

  “Can I take you somewhere?”

  I hesitated before responding. The fact that I had pushed myself to come on this date, and that we had made it through dinner without any interruptions from my subconscious, or my sister as I still hadn’t completely determined who was responsible for what when it came to the thoughts in my head, was quite remarkable. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to chance anything more, but at the same time I wasn’t ready to go home just yet. When I got home, Ian would be there and I didn’t know if I could deal with him at the moment.

  “Where did you have in mind?” I finally asked.

  “It’s a surprise.” He held out his hand. “Do you trust me?”

  There was that word again. In the last year, I had put my trust into so many people and been betrayed that it was a very scary thought to do it again. But I did and I wondered if I always would. Everyone has at least one weakness. I took Thomas’ hand and he smiled, pulling me along behind him to a motorbike parked alongside the road.

  I looked at him in surprise. “Is this yours?”

  “It sure is.” He handed me a helmet and I took it. Considering I’d almost fallen off the Tower Bridge, I probably shouldn’t fear a motorbike. Thomas put on a helmet as well and swung his right leg over and onto the other side of the bike. “Get on behind me.”

  I did as he asked. We sat there for a few moments before he finally said, “You need to put your arms around my waist if you don’t want to go flying off.”

  I moved my arms and as I began to place them on his waist, I hesitated. I hadn’t touched another man this intimately since Phillip. I immediately withdrew my hands.

  “Are you alright?” Thomas asked. “We don’t have to do this if you’re uncomfortable.”

  I shook my head. “No, sorry. I mean, I’m fine. It’s fine.”

  I took a deep breath and placed my arms around his waist, leaning into him. He started up the engine and before I could say or do anything more, we were pulling out into the road and racing down the streets of San Francisco. Even though I was wearing a helmet, my hair fell out the back and was blowing around my face. The breeze felt cool and refreshing against my cheeks. I felt exhilarated. Thomas drove for a while, taking us to the edge of the city towards the Golden Gate Bridge. He finally stopped the bike and parked just outside Fort Point, which was almost directly under the bridge.

  We got off and walked down a ways until we were at the edge of the water. Thomas plopped himself down and laid on his back, looking up at the bridge and the stars. I hesitated again, briefly, and then lay down beside him, leaving enough distance between the two of us, of course.

  “It’s beautiful,” Thomas said. “I love coming here and allowing my thoughts to come and go. It’s a great place to come and reflect. I suppose you have places like that in London?”

  I considered that for a moment. “I suppose yes. Towards the end of my time there I went up to Big Ben for a little bit and looked out at the city. But in the end, I only saw a war zone. Being here, in America, I feel like I can escape it all. Yes, I know there is a war going on, but I’m not constantly reminded of it. I’m not spending the majority of my nights, when I should be sleeping, in a bunker hoping my house will still be there the next morning.”

  Thomas leaned on his side to look at me and I did the same. He stared at me for a moment longer before saying, “I’m sorry about everything that has happened to you. I know what it’s like to lose a mother, but like I said, for me it was slow and gradual. I can’t even imagine losing so many people, and all at once. I wish I could take it away for you.”

  “I thought you said you didn’t know your mother.”

  He smiled. “I should’ve been more specific. I didn’t know my birth mother. After she left, my father remarried and the woman he married raised me as her own. A f
ew years ago, she got sick and her life ended rather quickly.”

  “I guess we are kind of similar,” I responded. “Both of us never knew our birth mother.”

  I wanted to say something more, but I had nothing. I only attempted a half-smile as a tear rolled down my cheek at the same time. Thomas extended his arm and wiped the tear away with his finger.

  “Abby,” he finally said, “there’s something about you that makes me want to be a better person. I’ve always had careless, meaningless relationships with other girls, but with you I want something more. I used to go out with a different girl almost every night, and lot of the time I felt like I was using them, even though they always knew how I felt, and usually felt the same. Ever since I met you at that club, though, I haven’t been out with another girl.”

  Thomas and I had known each other a couple months now, and he was now telling me he hadn’t been out with anyone, except for me? This man was falling for me, and I knew I was falling for him. But there was a part of me resisting as well. That part that didn’t want to let Phillip go. But then again, I wasn’t sure if I ever wanted to let Phillip go completely. He had been an important part of my life. The things we’d done together, seen together, and laughed about together had all contributed to the person I was today. And I didn’t want to change that.

  I leaned into Thomas because I wanted to be with him. His lips were mere centimeters from mine. My eyes were closing. My breath was becoming ragged.

  What are you doing? What about Phillip?

  It was her voice again. Melanie. She was taunting me. It had to be her. She wanted me to feel guilty for being with Thomas, but why? What had I done to her? Why did she want me to feel this way? I crawled away from Thomas and stood up, bringing my hands to cover my face as I cried out.

  “Abby!” It was Thomas’ voice. His arms were around me, holding me to him. “Are you okay?”

  I immediately pushed him away and took a step back. “I’m sorry, Thomas. I can’t do this. I just can’t. Will you take me home? Please?”

  He looked hurt. He thought it was him, but it wasn’t. I knew that I could probably explain what had just happened, but even though it was something I had told him about before, it stay made me feel vulnerable. I just needed to be taken away from here, away from him, for the time being. He nodded and we went back to the bike. I put on the helmet he had given me earlier and climbed on behind him. I didn’t want to, but I placed my arms around his waist, but not as tight this time. The engine of the bike came to life and we sped off again into the night, neither of us speaking a word.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Thomas dropped me off at the doorstep of the Chambord Building. I muttered a quick goodbye, not even looking at him, and then quickly made my way up to my apartment. I felt embarrassed, upset, and confused. I thought I had gotten over these thoughts. Phillip wanted me to move on with my life. He had said so in the letter he had left for me. Why was I still letting myself think he would want anything less of me? The worst part of it all was that I still didn’t know whether or not these feelings were my own or if they had some sort of connection to my sister that I knew was out there somewhere.

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  I didn’t mean to ask it aloud, but I did. I said it to the empty space of the hallway as I made my way toward the door to my apartment. And for the first time in a long time, I got a response that sounded just like me. Although I knew who it really was this time.

  I’m not doing anything. Those feelings are your own. I simply want for us to meet, now that you know about my existence.

  I reached into my pocket, trying to find my keys. As I did, I carefully considered what I should say next and I knew there was no need to say it out loud. I didn’t need anyone else seeing me do that. It would be even more proof for Ian to bring back Dr. Aldridge.

  And what if I don’t want to meet you? I asked her in my head. Our mother clearly didn’t want us to be together.

  And how do you know that?

  The answer was I didn’t know. A jingle. Finally, I had found my keys. I took them out and placed the key to the apartment in the deadbolt, turning it, all the while continuing to think about my answer.

  If she had wanted us to be together, she wouldn’t have separated us.

  Again, how do you know that she separated us?

  Logically, I guess that made sense. I knew Bessie had been my mother’s mid-wife and there had been some sort of struggle on the night of my birth. Perhaps, in an effort to save us, my mother had only been able to grab me? What had she done with my sister? Had she even been able to get us both out of there? Had my aunt, before meeting her untimely death on the Tower Bridge, been able to hide my sister away somewhere?

  I don’t know if she did that. I just know she didn’t want me to be a part of this world. She didn’t want me to find out about any of this. If you aren’t the one sending me these terrible thoughts I’ve been thinking and seeing, then where do they come from?

  It all has to do with you. I’m just the voice of reason here.

  She wasn’t making any sense. Why didn’t you say something more before? Why didn’t you say something like, “Hello, Abigail. This is your twin sister?”

  It wasn’t time for you to know. I’ll lead you to me when it’s time. Goodbye.

  And before I could say anything more, I knew she was gone. It was like she left the room, even though there was no room to leave. Maybe she went to sleep? I had no idea, and it was then I realized I was still standing at the door to my apartment, one hand on the knob, and the other still on the key having just turned the deadbolt. I quickly turned the knob and entered the apartment, closing the door behind me.

  I found Bridget awake, reading a book on the couch in our living area. She looked up at me over her reading glasses and smiled.

  “You were out late? Date night?”

  I nodded as I shrugged off my coat and hung it on the coatrack. Looking back at Bridget, I saw a look of surprise on her face as she turned back to her book. She had been joking when asking the question.

  “I just went out to dinner with Thomas,” I added hastily, trying to make it sound as if it wasn’t anything special. I didn’t know why I felt like I needed to justify it. It was as if I thought she too would make me feel guilty about going on a date with someone, even though it was what Phillip would have wanted.

  “I’m happy for you,” she finally replied, flicking her gaze up from her book and then back down again.

  The thing was, she didn’t look happy. I walked over to her and sat down next to her. When she didn’t put the book down, I cleared my throat rather noticeably and she finally sighed and put the book to the side, looking up at me as she did.

  “Are you okay?” I asked her. “We haven’t really talked lately. I know I’ve been out and about, getting reacquainted I guess, but I feel as if you are distancing yourself from me. Remember when we had lunch? You mentioned that there was something you wanted to tell me.”

  Bridget bit her lip and looked away, taking off her reading glasses as she did. She immediately stood up, placed the glasses on the table, and walked into the kitchen. I heard the clank and clatter of the dishes as she began to wash them in the kitchen sink. I sighed, wondering if I should let this go, but decided against it, stood up, and walked into the kitchen.

  “Bridget, please,” I said. “Please, tell me what it is. Is there something going on with Ian I should know about?”

  Bridget let out a long sigh as she placed the plate she was washing back into the sink and turned around, leaning against the counter, her hands covered in suds. She looked at me for a second, shook her head, and then turned around, grabbing a towel as she did and drying off her hands.

  “I can’t talk about this right now, Abigail.”

  Abigail. Very rarely had Bridget ever called me Abigail, even when she was mad at me. I realized I should probably let this issue rest and retire for the night, but I wanted her to know I was there for her.


  “Remember, you can talk to me. I’m here for you. Okay?”

  A stifled sob and then she said, “I know.”

  I wanted to walk to her and comfort her, but I knew there was some kind of internal battle she was trying to sort out for herself right now, and I needed to let her do that. And so I did.

  The next day, I did my best to avoid Thomas. It wasn’t difficult as he never came by the office. I simply sat in silence and worked on balancing the library’s budget as well as making sure all necessary bills were taken care of. It was around noon, when I was planning to leave for lunch, that there was a knock at the office door and before I had to time process whether or not it might be Thomas, the door opened and a man stepped in. Thankfully, the man wasn’t Thomas. He was of a similar height, and they looked to be about the same age, but his vibrant, fiery hair, as well as the freckles that dotted his face, set him apart from Thomas quite a bit.

  As soon as he was in the room, he looked at me, and then he looked around the room in confusion, before looking back at me.

  “My apologies,” he finally said. “I was looking for Thomas Jane.”

  “He isn’t here today,” I finally said, and then stood up, remembering my manners, and held out my hand. “I’m Abigail Jordan. He hired me a few months ago to be his assistant.”

  The man laughed at this and held out his hand, taking mine. We shook briefly before he pulled away.

  “Leave it up to Thomas to need an assistant,” the man said. “I’m Oliver. Oliver Caldwell. Thomas and I are old friends.” He then looked at his watch in confusion and looked back at me. “He’s usually here this time of day, but I guess since he has an assistant now, that isn’t the case. My only guess is he is dealing with the family business.”

 

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