A Spell for an Eye by Sarah A. Clewer

Author:Sarah A. Clewer [Clewer, Sarah A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780648407065
Publisher: Aurora House
Published: 2019-05-06T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty Eight

After a few minutes, Celeste moved back from Bruce’s embrace slightly, and, drying and re-folding his coat lapels, started speaking. Her voice was so soft Bruce had to lean forward to hear her.

“I don’t like coming here. Seeing all those people, crying over loved ones, it makes me feel so sad. I used to come here, when I was ten, and I’d see all the families standing together. I used to get so angry at them for having parents and siblings, and... and I had none. Since then, I haven’t wanted to come here; I never want to see those other families again.”

Bruce thought Celeste looked like a small girl again, remembering the time he saw her at the hospital the day his parents died. He smiled at her and stroked her hair, brushing some strands away from her mask. “Come on, Celeste. Let’s go home.”

Celeste looked up at Bruce and smiled. He hadn’t meant to upset her, but he needed to know why she never came here. Together the couple stood up and headed to the gates of the cemetery, Celeste huddled against Bruce, his arms around her to keep her warm.

In Melbourne, Miranda and Vanessa were sitting at the kitchen table, drinking cups of tea. Miranda had a plate of Anzac biscuits beside her as she wrote in her diary. Vanessa was perching on one of the stools, cup of tea to her left, her tablet with information on the screen to her right. A plate of Monte Carlo biscuits were in front of her and a small notebook in front of that. Both girls were silent, working on their own.

A few days prior, Miranda and Vanessa had told each other about their pasts.

Miranda was writing about her worries regarding Celeste, how she was spending more time with Bruce. Every now and then, Miranda would stop writing, put her pen down, pick up a biscuit, dunk it in her tea, take a bite, then go back to writing. She made no noise except for the scratching of her pen against paper and the crunching of her biscuit. The sound of the pen helped to keep her concentration and calmed her down when stressed.

Vanessa was researching Venus and its meteor shower from sixteen years ago. Since she’d gotten her powers, Vanessa had been doing tireless research whenever she had time; each time she made more discoveries. She would type a bit, read something, write it down, take a bite of her Monte Carlo biscuit, drink some tea then go back to typing.

At lunchtime, Miranda got up, closed her diary and put the pen away. She placed the Anzac biscuits in a container and drained her tea. “Vanessa, if you’ve finished your research, I was wondering if we could go for a walk?”

Vanessa looked up, put the cap on her pen, turned off her tablet and packed her things. Glancing at the Monte Carlos on the table, she tilted her head.

“Pas plus,” she muttered, getting up. She stretched, put her things in her handbag and put on a beret.

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