Charley Chambers

by Rachel Kennedy

  ‘Yeah,’ Charley answered meekly. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea?’

  ‘He won’t do anything here, not when there are so many people around. To be honest, this is probably our best opportunity to confront him.

  ‘But what if he doesn’t like being confronted? What if we make him mad and he sets nosts on us?’

  Aiden laughed, pulling Charley towards him. ‘You’re adorable, you know that?’

  ‘I’m only being careful.’

  ‘Yes, painstakingly. Don’t worry about Marcus. If he tries anything, I’ll be there to stop him.’ He raised his eyebrows slightly. ‘You’re gonna be there too, you know.’

  ‘So?’ She wasn’t sure what he was getting at.

  ‘So . . . if anything happens, it’s two against one. I know you aren’t that confident yet, but you have more control of your powers than you think.’

  ‘Aiden . . .’

  ‘I’m just saying, don’t discard them completely. You’re talented, Charley Chambers.’

  ‘Full name? Are you feeling all right?’

  He nudged her gently with his elbow and she grabbed on to it, linking her arm through his. They picked up their pace and walked towards the main entrance, both of them growing more anxious as they reached the double doors.

  ‘Ladies first,’ Aiden said, half-smiling as he held the door open.

  ‘No, you go,’ Charley said, hanging back slightly.

  Aiden shrugged his shoulders and walked in through the door, letting it shut as Charley followed close behind.

  They walked along the busy corridor, squeezing through hordes of hungry students, all of them desperate to get to the cafeteria.

  Lunchtime – the time when school turned into a mad house, with children fighting their way to the front of the line, determined to grab a pudding cup or that last slice of pizza.

  ‘Remind me why we chose lunchtime to do this?’ Charley asked, flinching as someone stood on her toe.

  ‘Because none of the teachers will notice that we’ve been gone half the day. Or days, for that matter.’

  Neither of them had been back to school since Abbie’s accident and Aiden’s unfortunate incident with Marcus in the science department, and neither of them had any real desire to return.

  ‘He’s over there.’

  Charley looked to where Aiden was pointing and sure enough, there he was, sitting at a table with Cameron McCreery and Gary Bishop. Aiden felt a twinge of jealousy; not only had Marcus tried to steal his girlfriend, he was now trying to nick his friends as well.

  They walked towards the table, Charley becoming increasingly anxious by the second. One of the ceiling lights burst, and Aiden looked towards Charley to check she was all right.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she said, as if reading his mind.

  ‘Up to your usual tricks?’ He nodded towards the ceiling.

  Right on cue, the light next to it blew, this time attracting Marcus’s attention. His eyes scanned the room, stopping when they found Aiden and Charley amongst a mass of students. His lips turned up into a smile and he leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head.

  ‘No time like the present,’ Aiden sighed, stalking off towards Marcus, Charley’s hand still gripped firmly in his. ‘Can we have a word?’ he asked as they approached the table, unintentionally glaring at his two trusty sidekicks.

  ‘Aiden, where’ve you been?’ Cameron asked.

  Aiden turned away, replying without even looking at him. ‘Not now, Cam, I need to speak to Marcus. Alone.’

  ‘All right,’ Marcus said, slowly getting up from his chair. ‘Just can’t keep away from me, can you?’ He winked at Aiden, grimacing as pain shot through his left temple. The skin around his eye was a mixture of purples, greens and blues, and Aiden took pleasure in knowing that he’d caused Marcus that discomfort.

  The three of them walked over to the side entrance and carried on out into the courtyard.

  ‘What’s this about then?’ Marcus asked, biting down on his bottom lip to stop himself from laughing.

  ‘Is this amusing to you?’ Aiden asked, and Marcus shrugged.

  ‘I guess. Can think of better things to do.’

  ‘We know what you are.’ Charley’s tiny voice came from behind Aiden, and Marcus cocked his head slightly to see her better.

  ‘At last, she speaks. You’re awfully quiet there, Charley. It isn’t like you.’

  ‘Answer the question,’ Charley said through gritted teeth.

  ‘You didn’t ask me a question. But in response to your – comment – of course you know what I am. I already told you–’

  ‘A pack of lies,’ Aiden spat. ‘You aren’t a magician.’

  ‘Sure I am.’

  ‘And magicians can now harness the power to summon nosts?’

  Marcus went to speak, but instead raised his eyebrows, smiling to himself. ‘Someone’s been doing their homework.’

  ‘You really think I’d have believed for a second you were like me?’ Aiden barked, his voice harsh. ‘Like us?’

  ‘She’s more like me than you know,’ Marcus smirked, but neither of them replied. ‘I knew it wouldn’t be long until you figured it out.’

  ‘So what do you want? Why lie to Charley? If you involve her in anything, I swear–’

  ‘I don’t want to hurt Charley,’ Marcus sighed, tired of repeating himself.

  ‘What about my gran then? What’s she ever done to you?’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You set a nost on my gran. She’s dying now, all because of your vindictive–’

  ‘Charley, slow down,’ Marcus said, talking to her as if they were still friends. He took a step closer and Aiden’s hand flew up, sending Marcus toppling to the ground.

  ‘Thanks for that,’ he said sarcastically, getting to his feet.

  Marcus looked at Charley, her eyes pleading with him for answers. He wanted nothing more than to pull her close, hold her and never let go . . .

  ‘I never cursed your gran, Charley. I don’t even know her.’

  ‘But she’s sick.’

  ‘And that’s my fault because . . . ?’

  ‘Because she’s sick with no explanation and all the signs are screaming out nost. They’re all pointing towards you,’ Aiden snarled.

  ‘Well, it wasn’t me. I wouldn’t know Charley’s gran if I passed her in the street. If there’s a nost after her, it wasn’t my doing.’

  ‘Stop lying,’ Aiden yelled, but Charley began frantically tapping his shoulder.

  ‘He’s telling the truth.’

  ‘What? How do you know?’

  ‘Because the nost he conjured up when I was with him, that was after my gran got sick. That was the night you and Abbie went to the medical centre. Whoever that nost was for, it wasn’t my gran.’

  Aiden turned slowly back towards Marcus. ‘So who was that one for then?’

  Marcus laughed. ‘Why do you care?’

  ‘Because you’ve just given someone a death sentence.’ Aiden spat the words out like venom, motioning for Charley to stay well behind him.

  Charley tilted her head ever so slightly, trying as best as she could to concentrate despite the situation, and a gust of wind rushed towards Marcus, enfolding itself around him like a tiny hurricane.

  ‘Nice try, little witch,’ Marcus smiled, throwing his arms up and shattering the hurricane like glass. ‘You’ll need to do better than that though.’

  ‘I am not a witch,’ she said angrily, and he stumbled, his back slamming into the large metal bins that sat at the edge of the courtyard. He let his hands rest on his knees for a second and then straightened, looking directly at Charley.

  ‘My apologies,’ he said sarcastically, bowing in a mocking fashion. ‘It’s just that Aiden seems to use the term ‘magician’
very lightly. From what I’ve heard, you have the capability to be one of the most powerful sorceresses there is.’

  ‘And where have you heard that?’

  Marcus shrugged. ‘Around.’

  ‘This is useless,’ Aiden said, just as a group of kids appeared around the corner. ‘He isn’t going to tell us anything.’

  Charley sighed, realising he was right. She felt defeated. A part of her had hoped that Marcus was responsible for the nost that had attached itself to her gran; at least that way she might have been able to reason with him, somehow convince him to undo the spell.

  ‘I guess we’re done then,’ Charley said sadly.

  ‘I guess we are,’ Marcus agreed, moving into a crouching position to ease the pain in his back.

  ‘You really aren’t going to tell us?’ Charley asked. ‘Who the nost was for?’

  ‘What’s the point? You’ve already made up your mind about me.’

  ‘You’re right, I have.’ She turned and began walking away, back towards the school. Aiden didn’t follow, instead choosing to walk the other way towards where Marcus sat, hunched over on the ground.

  ‘Do we really need to do this again?’ Marcus asked, easing himself up and stretching his arms out to the sides. ‘Go on then, have another pop. Really, I like being punched in the face, it’s exhilarating.’

  ‘Did she really hurt you that badly?’

  ‘What?’

  Aiden nodded towards the bins. ‘Chambers.’

  ‘She’s stronger than you think,’ Marcus said quietly, conscious of the stares that were coming their way.

  ‘I know how strong she is,’ Aiden said defensively.

  ‘See, that’s where you’re wrong. You have no idea. Charley might be a good little witch, Aiden, convincing herself that she’s all lily-white, but she has a dark side. She might not have found it yet, but it’s in there.’

  ‘And why should I believe a word you say?’

  ‘You don’t have to believe me, I couldn’t care less. But I’m not lying; Charley Chambers is a lot more powerful – and dangerous – than you know.’

  ‘And how do you know?’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘How powerful Chambers is? How come you’re suddenly so clued up on her?’

  ‘A magician never gives away his secrets,’ Marcus jeered. Aiden scowled, the thought of knocking Marcus’s teeth out seeming more appealing by the second. ‘Oh, sorry, that’s you. A demon quite often gives away secrets.’

  ‘Stop with the games, Marcus.’

  ‘I still think the term demon seems a little . . . barbaric, doesn’t it? Makes me sound like an ugly brute, when really–’

  Aiden gave up trying to be nice. He swung his right fist out and hit Marcus’s jaw, sending him once again into the bins.

  ‘Seems more than appropriate,’ Aiden said, and turned to follow in Charley’s footsteps, past the gawking students at the bench.

  Marcus closed his eyes and leaned back against one of the bins, clutching his forehead as it began to throb, the pulses in his temples vibrating furiously.

  He sighed just as the heavens opened, large droplets of rain pelting down from the sky, soaking everything in sight.

  The kids at the bench darted for the doors, jackets pulled over their heads to protect them from the sudden downpour.

  ‘Really, Aiden, a monsoon? That’s the best you could do?’

  Marcus stumbled to his feet – soaked to the skin and less than impressed – and trudged towards the doors just as the bell rang. He gripped one of the handles and tugged, cursing when the door didn’t budge.

  ‘Oh, come on!’ he yelled. ‘Really?’ He punched the glass, the impact turning his knuckles red, and spun around, letting his back slide down the length of the door. He looked up at the sky, rain still cascading from it, and began laughing manically.

  Dorcas took the kettle from the stove, her hand shaking as she carried it across to where her teacup sat. She poured the boiling water out slowly, using her other hand to guard her mouth as she began coughing, her palm becoming wet as warm blood made contact with her skin. She pulled her hand away and gasped, her fingers coated with sticky, black blood. She dropped the kettle carelessly on the table and hurried to the sink, turning the taps on and shrieking as the water began to run, thick and red from the taps. She spun around and once again gasped as she looked upon the liquid spilling from the kettle’s spout: blood. Dark blood spilling across her yellow cotton tablecloth. Dorcas ran from the kitchen, struggling for breath as she slammed the door, edging back from it slowly.

  She heard a floorboard creak behind her and cautiously looked over her shoulder, crying out as she saw the familiar figure standing there.

  ‘Hello, Dorcas.’

  The wind was picking up as Charley rounded the corner, her gran’s house now only a few yards away.

  She’d had enough – enough games, enough waiting, enough Marcus. Something had to be done.

  She knew Aiden meant well, but she wasn’t going to let him fight all of her battles for her. He couldn’t protect her from everything . . . from everyone.

  She knocked on the door several times before trying the handle, but it was locked; unusual for Dorcas, she just about never locked her door.

  ‘Gran? Are you there?’ she called, moving towards the window and peering inside, using her hand to shield her eyes from the sun’s harsh glare. ‘Oh my God, Gran!’

  Dorcas was lying on the floor, unconscious from what Charley could see, next to the kitchen door. Charley ran round the back, panicking when she found that door locked as well.

  ‘Hold on, Gran, I’m coming.’

  She grabbed one of Dorcas’s terracotta flowerpots and, struggling, managed to launch it through the kitchen window. She swept away the excess glass and climbed in. Running quickly to the door, she eased her way through the small gap, crouching down to see if Dorcas was all right.

  ‘Gran? Can you hear me?’

  Dorcas groaned, and Charley pulled her up, cradling her head. ‘Charley?’

  ‘I’m here.’

  ‘Oh, Charley.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I . . .’ Dorcas faltered. ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘Did you fall?’

  ‘I don’t think so. I was . . . the last thing I was doing was . . . oh, gosh.’

  ‘Slow down,’ Charley said, ‘take your time.’

  Dorcas tried to push herself up and, with Charley’s help, found her way to the couch.

  ‘I was making some tea. Yes, that’s right. I was making myself a drink and then . . . I don’t know. Everything’s a blank after that.’

  ‘Did you feel dizzy? Maybe you blacked out . . .’

  ‘I don’t remember leaving the kitchen,’ Dorcas said, her voice wavering.

  ‘I’m phoning an ambulance.’

  ‘No! No, sweetheart, that’s really not necessary.’

  ‘But, Gran–’

  ‘Charlotte, I’m fine. I just got a bit of a fright, that’s all.’

  ‘Very well. Stay here,’ Charley said, squeezing her gran’s hand. ‘I’ll go get you that tea.’

  Charley made her way to the kitchen, grimacing when she saw the shattered glass and shards of broken flower pot strewn across the floor. Her gran was going to freak.

  She picked up a few pieces of broken glass and began tidying the mess that had already been there before she arrived. The kettle was upside down on the floor, a puddle of water surrounding it. The table cloth was also drenched, the damp material still warm.

  The taps were running, splashing the thin net curtains that hung from the curtain rail above the shattered window. One curtain was ripped from when Charley had leapt in, grabbing a hold of it to help pull herself inside.

  ‘Your kitchen might need a bit of a clean,’ Charley said g
ingerly, filling the kettle and placing it on the stove to heat. ‘Or remodelled . . . the window’s kind of . . . not there any more.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Dorcas replied, laughing slightly. ‘I’d expect nothing less from you, dear.’

  Charley let out a long sigh. She was relieved. Hearing her gran laugh after seeing her so helpless only moments before was somewhat comforting.

  ‘You want a cake or something?’ Charley asked, opening the biscuit tin and finding a large selection of biscuits, bars and some tiny blueberry muffins – she could always count on her gran to have a stack of sweet things tucked away in the cupboard.

  ‘No thanks, darling.’

  ‘You sure? Sugar might help with the shock.’

  ‘What shock?’ Charley’s head whipped up at the sound of a second voice; a very familiar voice.

  ‘Hello, poppet,’ Dorcas said softly.

  ‘Jess? What are you doing here?’ Charley asked, walking through from the kitchen and raising an eyebrow as she laid eyes on her sister. ‘And what are you wearing?’

  Jess was dressed from head to toe in leather, her lips scarlet and her nails black. She had her hair tied up in a high ponytail, making her normally pretty features appear harsh and severe. Her eyelids were nearly as dark as her nails; a combination of liquid eyeliner and charcoal eye shadow.

  ‘Clothes,’ Jess replied bluntly.

  ‘I can see that. But why those ones? You look like a punk with ‘I hate the world’ issues.’

  ‘Thanks for your opinion, Charley. Not that anyone asked for it.’

  ‘And when did the panda look become fashionable again?’ Charley said, swirling her finger towards Jess’s made-up eyes. ‘I thought that went out in the seventies.’

  ‘Screw you, Charley.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You heard me. Drop dead.’

  ‘Stop being a brat. I was only joking. What’s wrong with you today?’

  ‘Go to hell.’

  ‘Jessica, that’s enough,’ Dorcas scolded her, but Jess just smiled.

  ‘What are you doing here, Jess?’ Charley asked again.