‘Yes. For some women it does. But not many.’ Nina was holding Anna’s gaze again like she had during the introduction to the circle session. ‘You’ve had a tough life so far. But not always – you had a good start.’
‘What, you read minds?’ Anna bristled. She hated the thought of perfect Nina being in her head.
‘No. I can just see in your eyes that you started this life with a lot of love around you. But I know, from your situation, that things must have been tough recently.’
‘Oh. Yeah. I guess.’
‘I know you’ve said that tonight felt weird for you. But can I show you something? I’m feeling very called to show you.’
‘Um. Yeah, all right.’
‘Close your eyes again, and imagine opening up your heart, like a bright light is sitting right in the centre of your chest and spreading throughout your body.’ Anna closed her eyes and imagined the light, noticing that her heart rate increased.
‘Good. Now, touch the crystal again. This time with both hands, placing your entire palm around it.’
Anna took a deep breath, reached out, and held the crystal. Everything stopped.
QUARRENDON VILLAGE, BUCKINGHAMSHIRE ENGLAND 1770
Later, Aisleen would not be able to explain how she found the crystal. All she knew was that on this particularly cold morning, as she walked across the field to the milking shed, she felt compelled to change direction and head towards the woodlands that surrounded their small farm. The promise of the rising sun had lightened the sky enough that Aisleen could make her way through the thick forest. She must have dug into the earth, because her hands were filthy when she found herself sitting on a small mound of hay piled into the corner of the damp, dark milking shed. She was shivering, her chattering teeth louder in her ears than the low bellowing of the cows waiting for their udders to be emptied.
As she tried to get to her feet, she noticed the rock in her lap. Despite the thick layer of dirt covering it, it only took a second for Aisleen to realise it was not a rock at all. It was almost like glass, yet from its intricate, patterned surface she knew it was something else. Aisleen shifted slightly so that she could use the ends of her skirts to wipe the dirt from this object. Her stomach danced as a warm light radiated from her lap. A crystal, she somehow knew. Crystal was not a word she’d ever heard before, but she knew that’s what this object was. Its light seeped into Aisleen’s skin, into her blood. Without understanding how, she suddenly knew that she was going to see her sister again. She would see all the women again. This crystal was going to help her.
Later that evening as Aisleen sat with her husband at their small wooden table by the fireplace sipping warm soup from her spoon, she decided it was time to plant the seed. Her husband of six years was exhausted from a long day working on the farm, but he’d enjoyed the warm water she’d prepared for him to freshen up, and his face was content as he finished his hot dinner, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms above his head. Aisleen cleared her throat.
‘Joseph, I was thinking of heading into town tomorrow to pick up some more sewing supplies. I had the most wondrous idea for a dress today and I want to start making it, but I don’t have the right material.’
Joseph cocked his head and glanced over at Aisleen’s sewing box, which was overflowing with materials, tools and thread. She was indeed well stocked, having only travelled into town with Joseph last week for more supplies. She rushed on.
‘I know it sounds silly, but this dress! I can’t get it out of my mind and the materials we bought simply won’t be right for it. I want to create something special to wear for our anniversary. It’s only a few weeks away …’ Aisleen lowered her head, looking up at her husband through her lashes.
‘But it’s almost trading day,’ he said. ‘I’ve got too much work to do to go into town tomorrow. Could we go the day after?’
Aisleen shrugged sadly. ‘I guess so. Although I’d really like to start tomorrow, while the idea is fresh in my mind. I did see quite a few unaccompanied women in town last week. I wouldn’t be breaking any rules.’ There was no rule about a woman going out alone during the day. So long as she didn’t interact with another woman. Joseph sighed and stretched again.
‘Well, that’s true. All right then, but you’ll be careful, won’t you? Go straight to the store and come straight back here? No detours?’ It wasn’t a command. That wasn’t the kind of man Joseph was. He was pleading with her, fearful she might return to being the madwoman she had been when the rules were first declared – running off to try and see her mother and sister, almost getting herself and them killed.
Aisleen forced herself to hold Joseph’s gaze. ‘I promise.’
While Aisleen knew that the town was exactly the same as last week, it felt new and different to her as she walked by herself through the main street for the first time in almost six years. Each shop front seemed shinier; the people she passed unfamiliar. She went swiftly towards the garment store and picked out the first roll of material she found, asking for a standard cutting. The large desk between Aisleen and the sales assistant provided enough of a barrier to conform to the rules. Both being women, they weren’t allowed to speak to each other. Aisleen knew the assistant’s husband wouldn’t be far, likely in the back room. So instead of words, they shared a smile as the young woman handed Aisleen the package. Feeling bold, perhaps working her way up to what she knew she was about to do, Aisleen whispered, ‘Thank you.’ The assistant’s eyes widened and Aisleen winked before leaving the store.
She started walking home, but on the way, instead of turning right to her own farm, Aisleen turned left and jogged down the narrow, dusty road. She stopped every hundred yards or so and hid behind one of the trees that lined the road, leaning on it to catch her breath and taking the chance to look around and make sure no-one was following her. Each time she paused, Aisleen’s knees weakened and her fear threatened to overcome her. But then she’d close her eyes and picture the crystal, burying her fear deep down.
When a small weatherboard house finally came into view, Aisleen’s heart filled. She felt like cartwheeling the rest of the way. The flowerbeds were all in full bloom, and she breathed in the familiar aroma of hyacinths and roses. Aisleen longed to run up the front steps and find her mother and sister, but the harsh reality of whom she would find in her childhood home stopped her.
It had been almost six years since she’d been ripped from her home, forced to marry on her eighteenth birthday. Her birthday fell only months after the Floods and the official enforcement of the new rules, so she was one of the first women married off. Despite the horror of that time, there had been some comfort in the discovery of her chosen husband: a man of the same age, with whom she’d attended school. He was someone she’d considered a friend. She wasn’t scared of him and despite her fury at being torn from her family home, she was grateful her fate hadn’t been far worse. But her mother and younger sister’s screams as she was taken from the house never left her and even now, so many years later, her heart was still as broken as on that day. She had lain awake at night, worrying over which man her widowed mother would be forced to marry. And then two years later, on the day of her sister’s eighteenth birthday, the sleepless nights proved even more torturous, evil men’s faces turning over in her mind, Aisleen dreading each as one her sister may have been paired with.
Aisleen had said too many prayers to count that her sister had married someone as kind and gentle as Joseph. Although Aisleen felt no real attraction to her husband, and nor did he for her as far as she could tell; they were best friends and lived a peaceful life together. She dreamed sometimes of what it would be like to kiss him, to lie with him, or how it would feel for him to desire her, but then she’d push the thoughts from her mind, knowing that their contented marriage was likely best left as it was. She’d witnessed so many other kinds of marriages during their trips to town. It was part of the reason it had taken her so long to sneak here like this; she was too afraid of what she might
find. But the crystal had changed all of that. It had given her the courage to find out.
A voice carried on the gentle breeze from inside the house and Aisleen froze. It was her sister’s voice. Mary. Aisleen ducked behind the rosebushes and waited to hear if she spoke again. Instead, it was a man’s voice that she heard next.
‘I’ll be back to it now, Mary!’ he hollered and appeared in the doorway. He was dressed in sensible farm clothes, similar to Joseph’s. He placed a wide-brimmed hat on his head and jumped from the front step, took hold of a wheelbarrow leaning against the side of the house and manouvered it with ease towards the land behind the house. When Aisleen had lived at home, her family kept only chickens on the property. Aisleen’s father had died when Aisleen and Mary were very young and in her grief, their mother had sold off all the livestock. She made a living through her sewing instead and they used the land closest to the house to grow enough vegetables for themselves and their neighbours, along with keeping chickens for eggs. So who was this man? He was far too young to have been paired with their mother, so he must have been Mary’s husband. But why were they living here? Aisleen took a deep breath and climbed the front step.
Mary was standing behind the kitchen bench when Aisleen appeared in the doorway. When she saw her sister, her eyes widened and the spoon fell from her hands as she covered her mouth, as though stifling a scream.
Aisleen took in Mary’s swollen belly, the healthy colour in her face. Relief flooded her as she realised her sister was fine. She looked more than fine.
Mary ran the few steps between them and threw her arms around Aisleen. Aisleen gripped Mary’s body tightly, laughing at the bizarre feeling of her sister’s belly protruding into her own flat stomach. She pulled away and held Mary’s shoulders as she looked at her. She appeared so different, no longer the small, childish teenager Aisleen had left behind. She was well and truly a woman. Her clear skin glowed with good health and happiness. Her hair was clean and smelled of soap. But there was something different in her eyes. A sadness. Aisleen was sure that her own eyes were the same.
‘I’ve missed you so much,’ Aisleen whispered, hugging Mary closely again.
‘Not more than I’ve missed you.’ They hugged for a long time, before eventually sitting down.
‘What are you doing here?’ Mary asked. ‘How did you manage it?’ Mary looked around as though only just now worried that somebody might have followed Aisleen.
‘I went into town for material.’ Aisleen held up the package. ‘Joseph is kind; he’s a good friend and trusts me. Although I suppose he shouldn’t, really, because here I am.’ Aisleen laughed, but it sounded more like a cry. She held on to both of Mary’s hands tightly. ‘Please, Mary, tell me. Where is Mother?’ Tears clouded Mary’s deep brown eyes. Aisleen shook her head. She didn’t want to know, but she knew she needed the truth. ‘Please …’ she begged.
Mary bit her lip and swallowed hard. She spoke in a shaky but firm voice, ‘Only months after you were … taken. She came down with a fever and couldn’t move. I looked after her the best I could, but it wasn’t enough. She passed away only a day after falling ill. Our neighbour, remember Mr Axleward? He came to help me, um, well … she’s buried out there in the back, by her favourite rosebush.’ Without a word, she stood and reached for Aisleen’s hand, leading her outside to the spot where their mother was buried. Aisleen never would have known except for the wooden heart attached to a stake that marked the spot. Delicate roses had been engraved around the border of the heart. Aisleen dropped to her knees and placed her hands on the cool, wet grass, trying to feel something.
‘I’m sorry, Mother. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to say goodbye.’ No tears fell from her eyes, but a piece of her already broken heart crumbled completely. She didn’t know how long she had been kneeling there, whispering to her mother, when she felt Mary’s hand on her shoulder. Mary sat down beside her and Aisleen shifted, facing her sister.
‘I’m so sorry you went through all of this on your own. I should have …’ Aisleen knew, of course, there was nothing she could have done. If their mother had passed away only months after Aisleen had been taken, then Aisleen would have been sitting in a jail cell when Mother died. She’d spent six months in there, at the beginning, when she refused to stop trying to return home.
‘How did you survive it, Mary?’
Mary sighed, looking up at the sky. Then she looked back at Aisleen and rubbed her belly gently, as though unconscious of the habit. ‘I don’t know. I just did. I had no other choice. I knew, we knew, where you were and I’d accepted you weren’t coming back. To be honest … I think Mother maybe died of a broken heart.’ Mary wiped the tears from her cheeks and Aisleen clenched her jaw to stop herself from crying. ‘The first few weeks were the hardest. It was so quiet. And the money was running out fast. But then Mr Axleward came to visit and told me he had a nephew who was nearly eighteen and would make a good husband. I’d just turned seventeen but, well, you’ve heard about the exceptions, right?’ Aisleen closed her eyes and nodded. She and Joseph had heard there were girls as young as fifteen deemed ready for marriage and taken from their families. ‘Well, he said that if I’d like to meet his nephew, Matthew, then I could decide if I’d like him to seek an exception on my behalf. And … I met him.’ Mary smiled and her eyes lit up. She loved him, this Matthew, the farmer Aisleen had seen leaving. ‘We married a week later and even though I still missed you and Mother, well, things became easier.’ Mary’s eyebrows knitted together and she seemed apologetic. ‘I’m sorry. I hope I’m not upsetting you by going on about this. Have you been all right? You’re much thinner than I remember!’
Aisleen laughed at this role reversal – her younger sister looking out for her, worrying for her. She placed her hand on Mary’s knee. ‘I’m all right, Mary. Especially now that I know you’re happy and I know that Mother is at peace.’ Aisleen realised that was true. Her mother passing away from a fever in her own home while cared for by Mary was a far better scenario than the possibilities she’d had storming through her mind.
Aisleen felt a sense of calm settle over her and that’s when she remembered the crystal and the whole purpose of this meeting. She took Mary’s hands in her own.
‘Mary, I’m going to ask you to do something for me. I know you’re very happy and I don’t want to jeopardise that or put you in any danger. But I believe there’s a way for us to see each other again and to connect with other women in town.’
Mary leaned towards Aisleen, gripping her hands. ‘What do you mean? Aisleen, you’re not going to break the rules again, are you? I mean, you already are now, but you’re not going to do anything silly?’
‘Define silly.’ Aisleen grinned.
CHAPTER SIX
‘SO, THESE ARE the meal-combo buttons. And under those are the individual items. You just press in the order.’ Brayden had decided that Anna had done so well in her first week of frying fries that she could handle taking orders from now on. ‘Now, this button is in case you need to add in any extra instructions, like no pickles or no bun.’
‘No bun for a burger?’ Anna raised her eyebrows.
‘You’ll be surprised by the requests we get. Wait till you’re asked for a cheeseburger without cheese!’ Brayden’s cheeks flushed red as he laughed. Anna was surprised that she laughed along, noticing that his green eyes stood out even more when he blushed. Once Brayden had recovered from his own joke, he finished showing Anna how the register worked and stayed by her side while she took her first few orders. He nodded after a few minutes and told her he’d check on her later.
Anna didn’t mind working the register. The day flew by and before she knew it, her shift was almost over. She didn’t have as much time for her thoughts on the register either, which was helpful. Over the weekend, her mind had been jumping all over the place with thoughts of the Women’s Circle and the weird stuff she’d seen when she’d touched the crystal. It had reminded her of being high in the early days when it was still fun. S
he’d jumped away from Nina and the crystal.
‘It’s all right, just breathe. You’re here and now,’ Nina had soothed.
‘What was that?’ Anna had cried, rubbing her hands on her legs, trying to get the tingling to stop. The image of a woman she’d never seen before had been as clear as if she was in the same room.
‘That was the origin of the crystal. I know it’s a lot to take in. And I don’t think I should explain any further tonight. Just know that it’s all light. There’s nothing scary about this, I promise you.’
Anna had nodded, oddly feeling calmed.
‘Let’s talk again after circle next week? That way you’ll have had time to digest what you’ve seen and will be ready to absorb more information. If I tell you too much now, it will bounce straight off you.’
Nina’s warm smile had had Anna agreeing. She’d left, having no idea what had happened. Where had the images of that strange woman digging up the ground come from?
But as she’d made her way home, Anna had felt fine. Good, even. An odd peace had settled over her. But peace had faded over the weekend, replaced by mile-a-minute questions that plagued her. Had Nina somehow drugged her? Was it witchcraft? Anna wasn’t religious, but every South American knew you had to stay away from witchcraft. In Tita’s neighbourhood, there was a young widow known as a bruha – a witch – and although people seemed happy to pay her money to tell them their futures, they would also cross themselves as they left. Tita would shake her head and tell Anna they would have to pray for the fools who visited the witch. Getting caught up in witchcraft is worse than death, Tita would say. Even Anna’s mama, who despised going to church, would make the sign of the cross as she walked past the witch’s house. But Anna was sure the Women’s Circle was different. There was no talk of predicting futures, no spells. And while Anna had no idea how she’d seen what she had seen when she touched the crystal, she was sure Nina was definitely not a witch. Her smile had been warm, and the light Anna had seen in Nina’s eyes had felt safe, not scary. Throughout the weekend, Anna had managed to keep her fear under control, but she was looking forward to getting some answers at the next Women’s Circle on Friday night.
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