by Aderyn Wood
Dale stopped her daydreaming to focus on the figure that now approached; his athletic form instantly recognisable. She took a deep breath. She was determined not to make a fool of herself this time.
“We meet again.” His smile beamed as it always did.
Dale cleared her throat. Be calm!
“You want some help then? With history?” She rummaged in her bag, grateful for an excuse to disrupt the gaze he held, strong as ever.
“That’s what I’m here for, if you have time.” He sat opposite.
Rhys was the newcomer at St Nino’s, but he seemed to have no anxieties about fitting in – quite the opposite. Dale was a little envious. She’d been here for years and she still felt like an outsider.
She found her history folder and flipped it open. She rubbed her forehead, and glanced across at Rhys. Where to begin? He reclined with one leg resting on the other. His hands curved over a calf muscle. What would those hands feel like on her? Her cheeks flushed and she shook her head.
“This might be difficult. We covered a lot during the year.”
“Why don’t you begin at the beginning?” He smiled again and the flutters erupted in her stomach.
“Don’t you need to take some notes?” He had no books or pens, not even a school bag. He never had anything.
“I’ll remember.” He nodded for her to begin.
She explained how the class had started the previous year with the medieval period, and its focus on feudalism and the Church.
Rhys interrupted. “You didn’t start with an earlier period?”
“If you’re interested in Roman History there is an option to study that in Advanced.”
Rhys shook his head. “No, I mean earlier.”
“What, the Celts?”
“Earlier.”
Dale creased her brow. “You mean Pre-History? I’m afraid you’ll have to wait till university to study that stuff.”
Rhys frowned and looked down to the carpet. Dale wondered again where he had come from. Why would he think that studying the Bronze Age was an option at high school? Of course it appeared briefly, in junior years, but not in any serious way. She thought about asking him about his previous school, but was interrupted.
Prudence Feathertop entered the library.
“Whatchya doing, Rhys?” She stood with a hand on one hip, while the other twirled a strand of bottle-blond hair; her mouth worked a piece of gum. Two of her toadies stood behind her, Natalia and Courtney. Ever loyal.
Rhys turned and gave Queen Muck one of his winning grins. Dale raised her eyebrows and started packing her things.
“Don’t leave on my account, little elf.” Prudence winked at Natalia and Courtney, who sniggered obediently.
“I was leaving anyway,” Dale mumbled.
His hand closed around her wrist. It was warm. She looked up and his dark eyes held her gaze.
“But we only just started.” His voice was husky.
Dale felt confused. She wanted to stay with Rhys but he didn’t understand. Prudence was Queen here. She’d already called her ‘elf’ – not a term of endearment. She glanced at Courtney and remembered the pain of her first year of high school when she thought this girl might have been her first real friend. But Dale had made a grave mistake telling Courtney she believed in elves. It was an innocent, childish thing to say. But her so-called friend had told everyone. Even now, years later, they teased her – bullies never forget. It still hurt.
Courtney grinned, and the anxiety returned, like a fist clutching her heart. Avoiding conflict was much better than confronting it. Fight versus flight. For Dale, flight won every time – well most times – unless she did something stupid, like try to stand up to them. That never ended well.
Rhys seemed to sense her decision and he released her wrist. She continued packing.
“So have you heard about my party this weekend?” Prudence turned back to Rhys. She was always loud when she spoke. To gain more attention? Even in the library she didn’t tone down the volume, or her accent.
Rhys, still looking at Dale, only shook his head. Natalia came around to Dale’s side of the table. She picked up The Hobbit and handed it to Dale. “Don’t forget your little fairy book.” Courtney giggled.
“Well, my folks are having a huge party, ya know, a fundraising kinda thing for the church, and I think you should come! It’ll be fun.” Prudence persisted. She stood close. Any closer she’d be sitting on him.
“I’ll show you my private apartment. I’ve got a Jacuzzi. You should bring your trunks – or not.” Prudence touched his hair, and toyed with a dark lock. “I’ll wear my bikini – or not.”
Dale’s anxiety about being picked on by these supreme bullies was suddenly overridden. Words formed and entered the atmosphere before she could think through their consequences.
“Why don’t you just come right out and ask him for a fuck? That way we don’t have to put up with your dumb flirting. I just want to chuck right now.” Dale’s cheeks flushed, but not from embarrassment. She swung her bag onto her shoulders and looked Prudence square in the face. “You’re such a cliché.” She walked out, head held high.
“Fuck off, Beethead.” She heard Courtney yell after her.
By the time she got off the bus, Dale realised what she’d done. As she walked toward the old hospital she thought about her outburst. What would Prudence do about it? She’d have to do something. The incident in the library would be around the whole school by now and Prudence had a reputation to maintain. Last year Fat Dan Burgess had thrown an egg at Prudence’s perfect blond head in a cooking class, after she had commented on his weight. The following day someone flushed his head in a toilet.
At the fence that surrounded the broken down hospital, she noticed an old wine bottle glinting in the afternoon sun. She picked it up and threw it at the wall. Red wine streaked the limestone facade. She watched it with a scowl. I should have walked away – quietly. I should have kept my mouth shut. She moved on. Perhaps she should mention it to Gareth.
She walked into the familiar courtyard and the aroma of frying onions and wood smoke filled the space. Old Joan crouched next to a fire. A heavy pot was suspended above the flames. Joan stirred the onions with a large stick. On her right were two buckets – one with diced vegetables, the other with fish. A bunch of herbs lay on a towel – bay and sage.
“Hi, Joan.”
Joan smiled and pointed the stick toward Gareth’s door. He must have told Joan he wanted to see her immediately. Nodding, she walked past Joan’s garden, heavy with beans, peas and tomatoes. There were plenty of carrots and potatoes almost ready for harvesting, and many other plants she couldn’t recognise.
She knocked on Gareth’s door, wondering momentarily why it was shut. Mostly it was wide open, even in winter.
“Come in, lass.” She opened the door.
Gareth had a visitor – a woman – an old woman with silver hair that flowed down to her waist. She wore a blue dress and a friendly smile.
“This is her,” Gareth said.
“Aye, I see what you mean.” The woman nodded. She had a rich voice. Was she a singer? She looked very old, but she had an exuberance about her. Her blue eyes, healthy and clear, looked squarely at Dale.
Dale shuffled her feet as the two elders examined her.
“You were expecting me?” she said to Gareth.
“Oh, aye.” Gareth smiled and stood. “Tea?”
“Yes, please.” She took a seat. Gareth’s crystal sat in the centre of the table, and it seemed even more vibrant in the afternoon sun. Cat came over and rubbed his head on her leg. “Hello, Cat.” She gave his chin a tickle. He purred loudly then moved onto his pillow and began kneading it.
Dale glanced at the woman. She wore a large blue pendant round her neck, a crystal or a sapphire. It caught the sunlight that glinted through the large window. Many layers and shapes lived within it. Dale suddenly thought of the sea.
The woman looked at Dale. Or not at Dale, but rathe
r around her, as though observing her aura. Wait, she is, Dale thought. I’m sure she is! She decided to return the favour and opened her sight the way she’d always done. Pure shining silver enveloped the woman. The light almost filled the entire wing of the hospital. Dale gasped, and lost the vision. She had never seen such an aura before.
The woman laughed, deep and husky. “Touché.” She smiled.
Dale creased a brow. Who is this person?
Gareth chuckled and returned to the table with two steaming cups.
“Dale, this is my friend, Ness. I’ve told her all about you and our coming trip up the ol’ Clyde.”
Dale stared. She was sure the woman had been using her second sight. Just the way I do! Could it be true? Gareth put the tea down. Dale took a sip. Hot and strong.
“It’s nice to be finally meeting with you, lass.” Ness smiled, and her eyes sparkled.
“How do you know Gareth?” Dale asked.
“Oh. we go back a century or two.” She winked and took a sip of tea.
Gareth got his own cup of tea and added some whisky. Dale sniffed. She wished he didn’t drink so much. He grabbed a chair by his mattress and sat with them at the table.
“Ness here lives out on the Hebrides.”
Dale’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Really,” Ness laughed. “You should visit on your trip. I live right by the sea.” Her deep blue eyes shimmered and matched the pendant at her neck. “Now, tell me more about this journey on the Clyde.”
Dale wanted to ask Ness about auras. She was sure the old woman had just seen hers. But maybe she hadn’t. And if she asked she’d probably sound stupid, or crazy, and Gareth would have second thoughts about sailing away with her.
Instead, she pulled out her maps and itineraries and put them on the table. She explained how she had planned three different versions, according to various weather conditions.
“Wish we could predict the weather!” she said. Ness raised an eyebrow.
Dale told them all about her plans for the coming trip – the places they would stop to camp and buy food, the tourist attractions she wanted to see. Even her dream of camping in Loch Striven. She spoke quickly, hand gestures flying. Ness encouraged her. Gareth looked proud. “You’ve done well, lass.”
When Gareth’s quarters darkened they joined Old Joan around her fire. The stew was ready and smelt delicious. Dale was hungry.
Gareth filled two bowls with stew and gave one each to Dale and Ness. Then he served his portion on a plate. Joan ate hers from a large mug.
The bay and sage were strong, and some other herbs too. Delightful. She downed the last mouthful and sat back to look up at the sky. The first star had just poked through.
She remembered Prudence and her head hurt.
“What’s wrong, lass?” Ness’s eyes were full of concern. How could she know there’s anything wrong?
“Some kids at school.” Dale sighed. “They make things – difficult.”
Ness stood and walked over to Dale. The old woman put a hand on her forehead. It felt cool, like a sea breeze. Ness closed her eyes. She seemed to stand there for a long time, with one hand on Dale’s forehead. Dale was beginning to think it was getting weird when Ness released her hold and opened her eyes.
“Aye,” she said. “I see.” Her eyes showed concern. “But you’ll be at my place soon. By the sea. You’ll be safe.” Ness smiled. “And the Borderlands will be close.”
Dale wasn’t really listening, but she breathed easily, Prudence forgotten.
5
“For Heaven’s sake put a smile on, Dale,” Victoria complained through a fake smile of her own.
Dale took a deep breath. This is torture, pure torture.
The Feathertop’s party was in full swing. Their house sat on a large piece of real estate in the wealthy suburb of Giffnock, and had everything from a tennis court to a cinema. The party weaved through the property like a fat snake, pulsating with lights and music. There were three main sections – one for children, one for teens and one for adults. The lights of the city twinkled in the distance.
Laura Feathertop approached and Dale watched as Victoria did more air kissing.
“So glad you could make it, honey.” Mrs Feathertop’s voice was just as loud and grating as her daughter’s. Her hair was blond, too, although she wore hers in a large bouffant that reminded Dale of Marge Simpson.
“Oh, Laura, you have a magnificent house.” Dale noticed her mother was saying ‘magnificent’ a lot lately.
“Are these your gorgeous children? What honeys!” Mrs Feathertop crooned over Nina and Mina, as though they were a couple of dolls in a cabinet. “What beauties they are. Are they twins?”
Is she serious? Dale thought. Sometimes we can’t tell them apart. Little doubt where Prudence gets her brains from.
Mrs Feathertop told them where the children’s pavilion could be found and the twins ran off to play in the jumping castle.
“You can take Benny there too,” she said to Dale’s stepfather. “We have a few nannies employed tonight. They’re all fully qualified.”
Dale gave Benny a kiss before her stepfather took him to the children’s pavilion as instructed. Benny waved one little chubby hand. She smiled and waved back.
“And this must be your eldest girl.” Mrs Feathertop turned her attention to Dale and sniffed. “The teen section’s through there, honey.” She pointed one pink manicured nail toward the tennis court. “Prudence will make you welcome. Go on.” She gave Dale a little nudge before putting her clawed hand on her mother’s shoulder. ”Now, how bout a cocktail?”
Dale walked toward the teen section.
Behind the tennis court a low building came into view; Prudence’s apartment. She moved toward it. Rhianna flowed from the speakers. A pool and spa shimmered nearby, and a number of ‘teens’ were swimming. The Feathertops must be millionaires. Few houses in Glasgow had heated pools. The whole property looked like something out of Beverly Hills, not Scotland.
Dale recognised some kids from school. Nick Travis dived into the pool and water splattered on her top. She kept walking. Natalia and Courtney giggled in the spa. No doubt Prudence wasn’t far from them.
Dale walked through to the other side of the party. Everyone seemed to be having fun. Everyone seemed to belong.
She bit her lip. What do I do now?
A table, by the apartment, held some food and drinks. If she poured herself a drink at least she’d appear occupied. A big bowl of punch sat in the middle. She tried a little, it was spiked and tasted like rocket fuel, but she filled a cup anyway. Then she walked over to the garden and sat on a bench.
She was used to feeling uncomfortable, but this was excruciating. There must be at least fifty people there, all having fun. Some were beginning to dance. A game of water polo started in the pool. Maybe she could just go for a walk. No one would notice her missing.
“Evening!” Dale jolted as Rhys sat beside her on the bench. He grabbed the cup out of her hand and sniffed it. “You like that?”
She didn’t like it at all, but when he handed it back she took a big swallow anyway and vaguely nodded as she watched his eyes over the rim of the cup. Their legs touched. She could feel his warmth through her jeans.
Rhys smiled and looked away at the others in the pool. “Want to go for a swim?”
“Ah, no thank you, I didn’t bring my swimsuit.” Dale took another gulp of punch. The alcohol made her mouth dry and she stifled a cough.
“Well, how about a walk?” He looked her in the eyes and she felt the familiar flip-flopping of her stomach.
“Okay,” she said finally, but downed the rest of the punch before she stood.
Rhys walked on ahead onto a paved path that wound through the garden. As she followed, the sound of the music and laughter faded. Her heart raced and she felt giddy. What was she doing following him in the middle of some strange garden?
“It smells nice here.” Rhys broke the silence. She could just see
his grey pullover. They had moved away from the lights.
“You mean at this house?”
Rhys laughed. “I mean this garden. Can you smell the roses?”
Dale sniffed, but she couldn’t smell anything.
“They are old roses,” Rhys said, and he bounded off.
Dale raised her eyebrows. Old roses? She smiled, and picked up her pace. She turned a corner. Rhys stood in a small clearing. A lamp cast a warm light revealing a stone bench in the centre. Roses surrounded them. She bent to smell one. It had a sweet fragrance.
“So, you like roses?” She smiled.
Rhys nodded. “I do.”
“That’s unusual for a guy.”
“It’s my deep dark secret. Don’t tell anyone.” His smile was so mesmerising.
“Okay, I won’t.” She sat down on the bench. Rhys joined her and sat close again. Her heart almost leapt from her chest.
“Your turn,” he said.
“Pardon?” Dale asked, eyes wide.
He nudged her with his shoulder. “Your turn. You tell me one of your deepest secrets.”
The burning sensation started. She felt it working its way up her neck.
“Why do you want to hear my secrets?” She stood, suddenly feeling anxious. Dale didn’t share secrets with anyone. Not even Old Man Gareth. She walked over to a red rose and touched its delicate petals.
“It’s alright; you don’t have to tell me.” She heard him step behind her.
“See the stars?” he said.
Dale could see the stars all around them. They burned bright despite the city lights.
“There’s so much people don’t know.” He stepped beside her and his hand brushed hers. “People live their little lives. They don’t know.” His eyes darted all over the sky, his mouth slightly open.