‘You pretty much heard most of that’ she shrugged, ‘what else is there to say?’
‘You could tell me how you feel.’
‘I think that’s pretty obvious.’
He caught her arm gently as she moved past him and turned her to face him.
‘Livy,’ he replied quietly, ‘I know I’ve had a lot of things on my mind recently but I feel like there is a distance between us now and maybe that’s my fault, but nothing has changed.’
‘Everything’s changed,’ she whispered pulling her arm free, ‘you just don’t want to admit it.’
‘Olivia,’ he began but suddenly froze as a loud chiming began somewhere in the house.
Olivia tensed as the phantom clock continued to chime. ‘Can you hear that?’
‘It’s a bit hard to miss.’
‘Not the clock,’ she frowned, ‘it sounds like running water.’
Turning she moved towards the hallway, warily following the sound of water. Beau whined, and trembling, hid behind Theo’s legs.
‘It’s okay boy,’ he bent down and stroked him soothingly, ‘go to your bed, I have to stay with Olivia.’
Beau licked his hand and trotted off to the corner of the kitchen climbing onto his cushion and curling up to stare at Theo with watchful eyes. Satisfied Beau was okay he followed Olivia out into the hallway.
Water ran like tears between the spindles of the staircase and down the wooden panelling. She rounded the corner and stood facing the stairs; here water trickled down the steps like a tumbling stream over small rocks to pool at her feet. Shivering, she felt the temperature plummet and as she breathed out heavily to calm her racing heart her breath fanned out as a fine mist. Grasping the banister purposefully she raised her foot and placed it on the first tread.
‘Olivia don’t,’ Theo warned as he grasped her wrist to prevent her from going any further.
‘I have to’ she shook her head; ‘she’s trying to tell me something. I’m not going to figure out what it is unless I face her.’
He sighed heavily. ‘Then let me go first.’
Everything in her softened at his genuine concern and she reached out without thinking to stroke his face softly.
‘She’s mine,’ she whispered, ‘I have to do this for her.’
‘All right’ he conceded, ‘but I’ll be right behind you.’
She nodded and turning towards the stairs she began to climb slowly. The higher she went the colder it became. She ignored the numbness in her hands and feet and the fact that the hem of her pyjamas were now soaked. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her ears. Her mouth ran dry and her hands trembled as she reached the top step and turned towards the landing.
There she stood in the corner, much as she had the last time, in a dirty cotton nightgown her long midnight hair tangled and hanging forwards, partially concealing her pale face. She seemed to be swaying, unaware of Olivia’s presence.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose and everything inside Olivia was screaming at her to turn and run but she didn’t. She braced herself and took a hesitant step forward.
‘Charlotte?’ Olivia spoke softly.
The dark haired girl stopped swaying and with an agonising slowness turned towards Olivia, but still she didn’t look up, just stood motionless, waiting.
‘Aunt Charlotte?’ she whispered.
Charlotte’s head suddenly snapped up and her white eyes fixed on Olivia.
Olivia felt her stomach swoop, that sudden jolt as you step down and accidentally miss a step. She tried to fight her way through the layers of fear and draw on her logic. Charlotte recognised her name but only truly responded when Olivia had acknowledged the familial connection between them. So part of her had to be aware, if she could just reach it.
‘Aunt Charlotte?’ she took another small step forward, ‘I know you recognise me. I’m yours, I come from the same blood as you.’
Feeling a little bolder she moved closer. ‘I know you are trying to tell me something important and I’m here, I’m listening. Can you tell me what you want?’
Charlotte suddenly moved with the same jerky movement, disappearing and reappearing directly in front of her. With her heart pounding at the sudden shock, Olivia gasped and took a small involuntary step back.
Charlotte opened her mouth to speak. The noise that came from her throat was a kind of choking sound, a stuttering kind of rasp. Water once again oozed from her lips and she held out her hands imploringly towards Olivia.
It took everything in her to look past her fear, to look past Charlotte’s white eyes, pale face and bruised skin to see the girl underneath. Once she got past her own fear she could see the scared girl trapped beneath, the one who was desperately trying to tell her something but couldn’t force the words out.
In that one moment Olivia’s heart broke for her and she would have done anything to help her. Without realising it she reached out towards the girl and stepped forward. Everything else faded away and all she saw was Charlotte, all she felt was her pain and desperation. If she could just reach her. Her heartbeat slowed, her breath was expelled as a slow even roll. It was as if they were trapped in a single moment of time. Her fingertips were mere inches from Charlotte’s and all she had to do was stretch a little further and they would meet.
Suddenly she felt warm arms wrap around her and yank her back. At that moment everything roared back into clarity, too loud, too bright. She fell backwards as both she and Theo tumbled to the floor.
Charlotte’s shriek of frustration echoed through the whole house like a banshee, shaking door frames and rattling windows. She collapsed to the floor in a violent wave of churning water and swept through the hallway slamming open the bathroom door. The surge of water reared up with a final echoing wail and plunged into the sink, cracking the basin and disappearing down the drain.
Olivia lay on top of Theo with his arms still wrapped around her protectively.
‘Why did you do that?’ she breathed heavily.
‘You couldn’t see yourself,’ he answered as she rolled off him. ‘You were turning blue.’
He climbed to his feet and help her up. ‘I was afraid of what would happen if you touched her.’
Olivia took a deep breath as her heart rate settled.
‘Thank you,’ she shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. ‘I don’t know why I reached for her. It was like a compulsion; I couldn’t seem to stop myself.’
Theo nodded and tucked an errant strand of hair behind her ear. They both turned towards the bathroom and stared at the huge crack in the porcelain.
‘Where does the water come from?’ Theo asked suddenly.
‘The town’s water supply all comes from the lake.’
‘The lake where Charlotte drowned,’ he replied.
‘Yeah,’ Olivia muttered quietly.
‘What is it?’
‘I just,’ she shrugged helplessly, ‘for a moment, I thought I got through to her and I saw…’
‘What did you see?’
‘She was just a girl Theo, she’s trapped and she’s afraid. She’s desperately trying to break free.’
‘You feel sorry for her.’
‘Yes I do,’ she replied slowly, ‘does that make me crazy?’
‘No,’ he ran his hands down her arms comfortingly, ‘it makes you human.’
‘I feel helpless.’
‘You said they recovered her body?’ he asked after a moment.
‘That’s what the newspaper announcement said,’ she nodded. ‘As far as I know she’s interred at Mercy Cemetery.’
‘Why don’t we go and find her.’
‘What?’
‘Why don’t we go and find her grave,’ he stroked her neck gently, ‘we could take her some flowers and pay our respects. It might make you feel better.’
‘Really?’
‘Yes,’ he nodded smiling slowly.
‘I’d like that.’
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‘Then go get dressed,’ he dropped a slow soft kiss on her lips, ‘we’ll skip breakfast, it’s nearly lunch anyway. I’ll feed Beau and make us a sandwich then we can go grave hunting.’
‘That sounds so much cooler than it actually is.’
‘Regardless,’ he laughed lightly, ‘go get dressed.’
Nodding in agreement she disappeared into the bedroom and Theo trotted down the stairs to check on Beau.
Despite the cold and the snow, it was a bright clear crisp day and as they were going to go trudging through a snow covered graveyard for the most part of the afternoon they decided to take Beau with them, a prospect which delighted the enthusiastic pup. After a brief stop at the coffee shop and the florist for provisions they headed out to the cemetery which was located on the outskirts of town.
They parked up outside the cemetery and climbed out. The place had a decidedly Victorian feel to it with its imposing black wrought iron gates. They passed underneath the archway which read Mercy Cemetery in ornate lettering and stepped into the cemetery itself.
‘Wow,’ Theo muttered.
It was huge, way bigger than Olivia had been expecting. It was going to take them forever to find the right grave, especially as everything was covered in layers of snow. But despite that, everything looked so peaceful and undisturbed. Obviously not a lot of people visited in the winter.
‘Who’s that?’ Theo asked suddenly as his gaze fell on a hunched figure in the distance, shovelling snow from the path.
‘He’s probably the custodian,’ Olivia’s eyes narrowed. ‘Let’s go talk to him, with any luck he might be able to point us in the right direction.’
Beau wove back and forth, happily ploughing through the snowdrifts towards the figure in the distance, pulling impatiently on his leash at the prospect of a new friend.
The figure looked up as Beau barked happily. He raised his hand in acknowledgment and started up the path towards them.
‘Hi,’ Olivia said breathlessly as Beau dragged her nearer.
‘Afternoon,’ he nodded. ‘Don’t get many visitors this time of year.’
He hunkered down to pet Beau who collapsed to the ground and rolled over in sheer delight.
‘I’m Olivia West, this is Theodore Beckett.’
The old guy stood and offered his gloved hand to each of them. ‘Jed,’ he nodded in response, ‘I take care of this place.’
‘It’s nice to meet you Jed,’ Olivia smiled, ‘I was hoping you could help us. We’re looking for a specific grave, an ancestor of mine. She would have been buried sometime late summer 1924.’
‘West eh?’ he scratched his stubbled chin. ‘I do have records of all the plots if you can’t find it. But the truth is the West family being one of the oldest in Mercy have a huge plot all to themselves, over in the North East corner.’
He pointed them in the right direction.
‘What’s the name of the one you’re looking for?’
‘Charlotte West.’
‘Oh that one,’ he replied.
‘Why do you say that?’
‘No reason,’ he shook his head, ‘you go on now and head out that way, you shouldn’t have any trouble finding her. If you need anything else I have my own little cabin just down there a ways. I’ll be putting the kettle on after I’ve finished clearing the path, so feel free to stop by.’
‘Okay,’ she replied a little suspiciously, ‘we might just take you up on that.’
With a nod of thanks they set off up the steep incline towards the section Jed had indicated.
‘What was all that about I wonder?’ she muttered once they were out of earshot.
‘What?’ Theo replied.
‘I don’t know,’ she frowned, ‘I just get the feeling he knows more than he’s letting on.’
They climbed higher towards the North East corner and soon were passing by small mausoleums and ornate graves. Some of them had only small stone headstones whereas some had huge columns and angels standing over them.
‘A little ostentatious,’ Olivia murmured.
‘These are all graves?’ Theo asked absently as he took in his surroundings. ‘Why are their markers so elaborate?’
‘I forget you’re not used to things like this,’ she mused thoughtfully, ‘there are various reasons. Sometimes it was just the fashion; back in the 1800’s Mausoleums were all the rage.’
‘Mausoleum?’ he frowned.
‘See those little square buildings scattered throughout the cemetery?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well each one would belong to a family; inside you will find the remains of up to five or six family members. The parents usually and due to infant mortality back then quite often some of their children. Those who grew into adulthood may have had plots of their own.’
‘I see.’
‘As for the graves, well sometimes it was a demonstration of the deceased’s wealth and position or sometimes just because their loved ones wanted to honour them the best way they could.’
Theo nodded in understanding as they came to the first Mausoleum marked West 1819-1842.
‘That won’t be it, the timescales wrong,’ Olivia dismissed it and moved on.
It was hard to see the gravestones clearly as they were mostly covered in a fine dusting of snow. They moved further along and Olivia leaned down and dusted the snow off the stone with her glove and froze.
‘Evelyn Patricia West Born 31st January 1934 Died 29th July 2015,’ Theo read aloud. ‘Your Aunt Evie?’
She nodded as she dusted the stone next to it.
‘Alice Louise West Born 31st January 1934 Died 29th August 1994. ‘My Nana,’ Olivia murmured.
She turned to face the stone next to them. Although she couldn’t read the writing she was fairly certain she knew whose grave this was, just as she also knew it was empty. The headstone had been split right down the centre and sat forlornly, cleaved in two, covered with snow.
Kneeling down Olivia brushed the stone clean and stared at the inscription.
‘Isabel Katherine West Born 4th September 1968 Died 29th August 1994. Beloved Wife and Mother,’ she whispered.
The words beloved wife and mother sat like lead in her stomach and she wanted to lash out and break the stone herself, to erase the words of hypocrisy and smash it to pieces. She wondered idly if her father had broken the stone, feeling the same helpless rage at her mother’s betrayal or if it had been her mother who had done it, trying to symbolically sever herself from the West family. It didn’t matter either way, it changed nothing. It didn’t heal her broken heart or lessen the sting of betrayal.
Beau crunched through the snow at her side and sniffed the stone before promptly lifting his leg. She couldn’t help the ridiculous laugh that bubbled out of her mouth. She stood and stepped back from the grave and stroked Beau lovingly.
‘Do you want a moment?’ Theo asked gently.
‘No,’ she breathed.
She pulled two red roses from the bouquet Theo was holding and laid one each on her grandmother’s and great aunt’s graves. Kissing her fingers lightly and touching each of the headstones she turned back to Theo.
‘There’s nothing to say,’ she told him quietly, ‘wherever they are I’m sure they know how I feel.’
He nodded and took her hand, gently pulling her away from the graves. They moved further back and suddenly something caught her eye. A flash of bright red amongst the pure whiteness of the snow. Tugging Theo’s hand to get him to change direction they headed towards the pinprick of vibrant colour. As they got closer she could see random splashes of colour and realised it was another grave.
Letting go of Theo’s hand she knelt down next to the headstone. It was made of white marble and covered with some sort of vine. Tapping the plant carefully she watched as the snow shook loose revealing a deep green vine with hundreds of small bright red flowers in full bloom. Frowning to herself Olivia brushed huge handfuls of snow from the g
rave to reveal more of the flowers; it seemed to cover the entire grave, releasing a sweet aromatic scent. Dusting off the headstone she realised the writing itself was in gold and in a strange lettering.
‘Charlotte Lilly West Born 20th May 1905 Died 18th July 1924 Agapiméne échase , vreíte to drómo sas píso se ména.’
‘This is very odd,’ Olivia frowned.
‘Those flowers shouldn’t be blooming this time of year,’ Theo commented.
‘You’re right, but it’s not just that. These are poppies, not only are they growing out of season but I’ve never seen them grow on vines before and yet the whole of her grave is covered in them. Also, look at her headstone and the inscription.’
‘What about them?’
‘They’re completely out of character, I mean look at the other graves. No one else from the early twentieth century has a white marble headstone with gold lettering and the grave itself is 91 years old but it looks brand new, there’s not so much as a chip or a scratch on it.’
‘Someone is caring for the stone?’
‘Possibly,’ Olivia murmured as she pulled one of the delicate blood red flowers from the vine and twirled the stem absently between her fingers.
‘What is that inscription?’
‘Agapiméne échase, vreíte to drómo sas píso se ména,’ Olivia read aloud.
‘Is that Latin?’
‘No,’ she shook her head pulling her phone from her pocket and taking a picture of it. ‘It’s not Latin, I’m not sure what it is.’
‘Beau, No!’ Theo scolded him and tugged his leash.
Olivia looked down to the edge of the grave where the puppy had begun to dig furiously. As Theo scooped Beau up and held him firmly, a flash of metal caught her eye. Scooping some more of the snow out of the way she dug her fingertips into the frozen soil and pulled out a chunk of mud with something sticking out of it. Peeling away the excess soil she found she had a tiny metal disc. It was badly tarnished and very dirty so she couldn’t make out the markings on it but it looked like an old coin.
‘What is it?’ Theo leaned down to get a closer look.
‘I’m not sure yet, we’ll have to clean it up once we get back home, I mean get back to the house,’ she corrected herself. She tucked it into her pocket and stood up, not noticing Theo’s frown at her choice of words. She absently rolled the flower stem between her fingers, ‘I think it’s time we had a little chat with Jed.’
The Ferryman (The Guardians Series 1 Book 2) Page 6