Meredith sat at the kitchen table with the Sunday newspaper and her morning coffee in front of her. Her usual ritual. She looked tired; dark shadows were under her eyes and a frown crossed her forehead. I wondered if she was sleeping all right, and hoped I wasn’t the cause of whatever bothered her.
‘Abbie,’ Meredith said, looking up at me, startled, ‘you look different.’
I grinned at my aunt. ‘Thanks,’ I said, although different was hardly a compliment.
Meredith peered at me closely. ‘Are you okay?’
I broadened my grin. ‘Yep. What do you have planned for today?’ Opening the fridge, I took out some orange juice and poured myself a quick glass.
‘Well, I was going to do some housework and meet a friend for coffee later,’ she said lamely, looking a bit befuddled. ‘What about you? Are you working?’
‘Not today. Marcus and I are going to the carnival across town.’
Meredith blinked, coffee cup paused in midair. ‘Marcus?’
‘The boy next door.’
‘I know who he is,’ Meredith replied. ‘I didn’t think you liked him?’
I shrugged, not wanting to give too much away. Not wanting to admit to Meredith how much I liked him. Or to myself. ‘He’s okay, I suppose.’
There was a knock at the door, and soon Marcus stood in the kitchen. He greeted Meredith politely before we left.
‘Glad you didn’t change,’ Marcus said as I climbed into the car next to him.
I blinked. ‘Glad you did change. Not to be rude, but you were a little smelly.’ In a nice kind of way, I added silently.
He laughed. ‘I thought I might be, but you were nice enough not to mention it.’
‘I’m mentioning it now.’
‘Yeah, well, I still think you’re nice.’
‘I’m warning you. I’m never nice.’
He looked at me, his lips twitching and eyes lightening to a soft caramel. ‘I don’t believe you. You don’t fool me, little pixie girl.’
I stared silently out the car window. I felt like saying something mean, something rude and hostile that would make him stop the car and tell me to get out and to stay away from him. But I didn’t. For the simple fact that, strangely, I couldn’t think of anything mean to say.
‘You’re an amazing dancer,’ he said completely out of the blue, his voice husky. ‘I was watching you for a while last night.’
I looked up, surprised, feeling my cheeks darken with the compliment. ‘Um, er, thanks.’
Marcus swung his car into the busy parking lot outside the carnival. It was held on an oval, on the outskirts of town, that was untended now, the grass burnt from the summer heat, the bleachers weathered and rusted. Some of the seats had been ripped by vandals, and there was graffiti everywhere.
Marcus grabbed my hand again as we walked through the gates, and I tingled as the familiar, delicious spark ran up my arm. It didn’t hurt this time. I must be getting used to it. Marcus acknowledged the current too, grinning wickedly at me.
Quite a few people were already at the carnival, mostly families with small children, but there were also some teenagers around. I scanned their faces, hoping I wouldn’t see anyone from school, before realising they were probably still asleep after the dance last night. I’d be safe for a few hours. Hopefully.
We strolled, hand in hand, down the laneways, stopping to watch games and rides, sampling the food and drink. Marcus won a big, fluffy, orange hippopotamus from the sideshow, which he gallantly presented to me. As he did so, bowing slightly at the waist, I had to blink to blur the image of Heath Lockwood in my mind. The similarities between them were dazzling, and once again I found myself wondering how he’d managed to step from 1806 to now. He must be reincarnated like me, except have no memory of his past lives. What an amazing coincidence that we’d met two hundred years later.
Or not. At the back of my mind I felt the tug of information, something I’d read yesterday. About soul mates finding each other in each lifetime. Soul mates. Staring at him, I wondered for the first time if Marcus was my soul mate.
As if sensing my intense scrutiny, he glanced at me, squeezing my hand and smiling warmly.
I blinked. The last thing I needed in my life was a soul mate. Besides, I didn’t even believe in something as corny as soul mates. Wasn’t that stuff reserved for Mills and Boon?
Passing a sign written in flowery script, Marcus stopped. ‘Hey, check this out,’ he nudged me, ‘What do you think?’
I stared at the sign. Fortune Teller. Just like Eliza and Jane Smith.
‘Shall we have a go?’ he suggested. His eyes flashed amber and he grinned wickedly, daring me.
I shook my head, my instincts telling me to flee.
‘Aw, c’mon. It’ll be fun!’ Before I could answer, he pulled me inside the tent. It was dark, hot and stuffy, while a table covered in silk handkerchiefs and a crystal ball sat in the middle of the small space.
‘Ah, my first customers of the day.’ A middle-aged woman, dressed like an Arabian, appeared in front of us. ‘They’re always the luckiest.’
Pulling out three foldaway chairs, the woman positioned them around the table, gesturing for us to sit. I wanted to run away from this clichéd woman, but instead I found myself being pulled down onto a seat beside Marcus. I stared dumbly at the ridiculously garbed woman opposite me. Compared to her, Eliza and Jane Smith suddenly seemed legitimate.
‘Shall we do separate readings?’ the lady asked, ‘Or together?’
‘Together,’ Marcus replied before I could open my mouth.
The woman’s eyes flickered between us before she nodded. Waving her hands over the crystal ball, she closed her eyes, tilting her head back as she started to chant.
Marcus grinned at me. I tried to smile back, but my face wasn’t working properly and I felt hot and sweaty, as if a slow fire were smouldering in my stomach. It was very, very hot inside the small, cramped tent.
The woman flung open her eyes and stared at Marcus, her pupils changing in size as they adapted to the dim light. ‘Ah, I see you, my son,’ she said in flowery speech that reminded me of the writing on the sign outside. ‘You are both blessed and cursed at the same time. An old soul, you’ve been here before.’
Marcus grinned, but he said nothing. Perspiration beaded on the back of my neck. With every inhalation, the air seemed to grow thicker and more oppressive. Didn’t anyone else notice how hot it was in here?
‘You’ve lost something,’ the woman continued. ‘Lost something many, many times, but you’ve found it now.’ She glanced at me. I felt sweat starting to spot my forehead. I ran a hand across my face.
‘But it can be lost again,’ she went on. ‘You must be careful. Very, very careful of whom you trust.’
Marcus laughed, oblivious to me sitting still and very hot beside him.
‘And you, dear, are very complex.’ The woman turned her dark, almost black eyes on me. ‘You have an unsettled soul. You too have been here before. Your soul is ancient and troubled. You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?’
I nodded, my throat dry. I’d agree to anything to get out of there.
God, I could barely breathe it was so hot. Why didn’t anyone else seem to be suffering? Marcus didn’t look like he was about to spontaneously combust.
‘But it’s over now,’ she said suddenly, her voice lightening. ‘You’re at the end of your journey. I think the lesson has been learned. Or it will be soon.’
A sentence suddenly flashed in my mind. People keep reincarnating until a life lesson is learned. How strange that I’d read that yesterday and the gypsy woman repeated it verbatim, more or less, today. Or not so strange. I trembled, wondering if Marcus had brought me here by chance, or if it had all been carefully contrived.
I glanced at him, my lips parched and dry. He squeezed my hand once more.
‘Your mask is gone,’ she continued, peering closer at me. ‘You were hiding before, but now you no longer need to hide. But you sti
ll need to be careful—you may be at the end, but you aren’t released yet. There is still one more obstacle to pass.’
Marcus and I stared at the woman, waiting for her to continue, but she waved her hands. ‘You two are very good for one another. Are you a long time together? I see you are kindred souls.’
‘What’s the obstacle?’ I whispered, dismissing the woman’s reference to me and Marcus; it was probably what she told all the teenagers.
But the gypsy shook her head. ‘It is not for me to say. You will encounter it soon enough. Now, are there any questions?’
Marcus asked a few questions, the kind most people had: Am I going to be rich? What college will I go to? But I wasn’t listening.
Gran had taken me to see a fortune teller once, when I was younger, at a fair just like this one. Meredith had gone inside the tent, and Gran had suggested I go too. I’d become almost hysterical at the thought, so distressed that Gran took me home. I’d forgotten the incident. Forgotten how frightened I’d been by the idea of someone looking into my life, my mind, and my soul.
I’d never made the mistake of allowing it to happen again. Until today.
Suddenly the woman reached out and grabbed my arm. Gasping, I looked up to meet her intense, dark eyes as I tried to jerk my arm away. But she held strong, her fingernails cutting into my skin. ‘What are you?’ she hissed, but when I blinked, the woman’s face changed and her voice softened slightly. ‘There’s a story…’
I stared at her, wondering if I’d imagined her hissing. Marcus watched our exchange silently, and when I met his eyes, a muscle flexed in his cheek. Pulling my arm away from her, I pushed my way out of the tent, the woman’s words ringing in my head. A story…
Once gratefully outside, I hesitated. I wanted to go home, run up to the attic, and hide under Gran’s blanket, but instead Marcus took hold of my hand and led me the other way.
Straight into Lilly.
‘Are you okay?’ Marcus was whispering in my ear, oblivious to Lilly’s presence. ‘That old lady was intense. But it’s all a bit of fun.’
‘I’m fine,’ I said, my voice tight as my eyes locked onto Lilly’s hostile face. I tried to turn away, but the sound of Lilly’s voice glued me to the spot.
‘Abbie!’ she cried too loudly, drawing an audience. ‘Why, I hardly even recognised you without the oil slick on your face.’
I barely registered what she meant.
‘Well, what do you have to say for yourself, Abbie?’ Lilly jeered. ‘Are you pretending to be normal now? Don’t be fooled by her Marcus—this girl is crazy!’ She made circles around her ears as she spoke and the crowd around her laughed.
‘Leave off, Lilly,’ Marcus said, his voice tense. ‘Abbie hasn’t done anything to you.’
Lilly stared at him, her nostrils flaring. I trembled, and all of a sudden I felt frightened, my usual sense of self-preservation gone. Why was I being such a coward?
Then I remembered what I wore.
Glancing down, I saw a vintage dress covered in faded roses. I had on my customary black boots and an armful of bangles. I remembered that I wore my nose ring, but my ears were bare of the usual array of studs. And I’d forgotten my makeup entirely; I was completely barefaced. I thought back to this morning and how surprised Marcus had been when he’d seen me, and when Meredith had. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d left the house without makeup. My room, even. It must have been years.
That was why I felt so happy and so free. That was why now, faced with Lilly, I felt so defenceless. I’d forgotten my armour.
It’s Marcus’ fault, I thought angrily. He’d completely thrown me. He’d made me forget who I was, what I was. For a brief span of time, I’d behaved not like me but like Penelope.
I wanted to hate him, wanted to spit and rail at him to leave me alone. I’d been perfectly able to stand up for myself before his arrival. He was making things worse.
But, instead, I found myself shrinking beside him, turning my face to his shoulder as I mumbled, ‘I want to go home.’ Without my makeup, I was weak and pathetic.
Marcus looped an arm around my shoulders and led me back the way we’d come, shooting a hostile glance over his shoulder at Lilly.
‘We’ll go this way, but we are not going home,’ he said, his voice firm. ‘What’s her problem, anyhow? You know, she’s as sweet as anything to me, but with you…’
I kept my mouth shut. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to think of a plausible explanation for Marcus.
He turned to face me, forcing me to meet his eyes. ‘Look, Abbie, I like you, okay? I know you find that hard to believe, but I do. I know it freaks you out, but there it is. And, I also know you like me.’
I blushed. Strange, I thought, without my heavy foundation, and black lips and eyes, I feel and act so bizarrely. And I blushed so easily, too, just like Penelope, the colour an almost permanent fixture to my face.
‘Look, forget about Lilly,’ Marcus said, glancing around. ‘Do you fancy a scary ride?’
He gestured to the carnival ride spinning next to us, twisting and turning frantically before suspending its screaming participants upside down in midair. It had to be about forty feet high.
I grinned, my anxiety beginning to dissolve. ‘I’m game if you are?’
I loved carnival rides. The scarier they were, the better. I didn’t suffer any motion sickness, and I loved the rush of adrenaline that made my pulse quicken. Gran used to take me to amusement parks, but neither she nor Meredith would ever go on the rides, so I would go alone. Even Beth and Laura, both of whom I went with when I got older, tended to stay away from the crazier rides, preferring the bumper cars or the tamer roller-coasters.
Strapping myself in beside Marcus, my skin tingled. I hoped he had a strong constitution, but guessed—no, somehow, knew—that he did. That even though Marcus was a typical teenage boy with no weird hang-ups—unlike me—he had the fortitude of someone older and wiser.
Because, like me, he’d been here before.
The ride started to move slowly, and Marcus squeezed my hand. I smiled back at him before glancing at the crowd disappearing below.
My heart stilled as my eyes locked with grey eyes. Eyes that shined an unnatural silver in the bright sunlight, a tear-shaped pupil dominating them.
Jerking back in my seat, I blinked, my heart leaping to my throat. The ride picked up pace and the crowd blurred into a kaleidoscope of colours. But I was sure it had been him.
It’s not possible, I thought. He’s a figment of my imagination; he exists only in my dreams.
The cool air whipped against my face as my body was flung in different directions by the insane ride. Gripping my harness tightly, I suddenly felt very, very afraid. And my fear had nothing to do with the ride. I was sure it had been him I’d seen looking up at me. Staring at me with those cold eyes. I would know them anywhere.
But it’s not possible for him to step out of my dreams.
I glanced at Marcus, dread creeping inside me, settling in my bones. Hadn’t Marcus crossed over from dreams to life? Didn’t he exist only in my imagination, in my night-time world? So it made perfect sense that he, who was larger than life, could cross over too. Nothing was impossible for him.
‘Wow, that was awesome!’ Marcus cried as the ride came to a halt. He pulled off his harness and turned to me, his face glowing and his hair gorgeously messed.
I managed a small smile but didn’t meet his eyes. Desperately, I scanned the crowd.
He was gone.
‘Abbie? You okay? You look a bit ill,’ Marcus said as I climbed off. He had to steady me as I made my way down the stairs. ‘You aren’t going to be sick are you?’
I took one last sweeping look around the crowd but saw no trace of him. I must have imagined it, I told myself. My mind is so preoccupied knowing he’s coming for Penelope that I imagined I saw him here. It was a plausible explanation, but I still didn’t feel eased.
And it didn’t explain the page torn from my j
ournal.
Swallowing hard against the bile curdling in my stomach, I forced myself to grin up at Marcus. ‘Sick? Are you crazy? That was awesome! I could eat ten chili dogs right now and still not feel sick.’
‘Really? Hungry?’
‘Starved.’
He grabbed my hand. ‘C’mon then, little pixie girl, let’s eat.’
Chapter Nineteen
1806
Things could not have gone better, Penelope decided once it was all said and done.
Heath had approached her father the very next morning asking for her hand in marriage. After a brief deliberation, in which Gerald Broadhurst sought to confirm his daughter’s feelings were reciprocated, he gave his consent. News was sent to the occupants of Broadhurst Manor informing them of the impending nuptials.
Penelope led Heath up to the attic of the parsonage, anxious to show him her art. She only wished she had something better and more profound than the general landscapes depicting Broadhurst. But Heath took his time perusing each one, his words overflowing with praise.
‘You love Broadhurst very much,’ he commented.
‘Yes,’ Penelope acknowledged. ‘I feel at one with the land around here.’ Blushing, she looked down at her fingers knotted together. ‘That must sound silly. But I’ve never known anywhere else. I’ve never even been to London.’
‘Really?’ he asked, surprised. ‘You have never ventured from Broadhurst?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I’ve never had any need. Georgina has visited London many times. She often talks about the grand social life, and the concerts, plays, balls and gatherings she’s been lucky enough to attend. I expect she will marry one day and move there.’
Heath watched her carefully. ‘Will it pain you overly much to leave it?’
‘Oh,’ Penelope gasped, blinking at him. She’d never given the possibility any thought, but it made sense, of course. Heath was a student at Cambridge, and they would be expected to reside there once they wed. Can I leave Broadhurst? she wondered for the first time. Can I leave my father?
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