Fletcher (Dark Powers Rising Book 4) by Rebecca Fernfield

Author:Rebecca Fernfield [Fernfield, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Redbegga
Published: 2017-07-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“This is your room for tonight,” Aileen says as she opens the door to a dark room. “Here,” she says smiling and passes me the armful of folded cloth, “fresh bedding and a nightdress.”

“Thank you.”

“This is one of my favourite rooms,” she continues striding across to the windows and pulling at the heavy drapes. “The light shines bright here in the morning. You’ll sleep well I’m sure.”

“It’s dark,” I return, unable to see much other than the large bed.

“Keep the door open, lovie, whilst I look for a candle. We don’t have electricity up here at night,” she says as she walks to a large cupboard in the corner of the room. The light barely reaches her, but she opens the cupboard door and squats down, leaning forward, searching. A clink of glass and she pulls back.

“Here we are! I knew I’d put some here,” she says turning and striding towards me, glass jar in hand. “It’ll stink mind,” she continues as she walks past me and back out into the hallway.

“Oh?” I question as I watch her walk to the single lamp pushing at the dark of the long walkway and bend to it with the glass jar.”

“Yep. It’s made of tallow,” she explains as the wick catches and light blooms against the dark.

“Tallow?”

“Sheep and pig fat—well any kind of fat we can get our hands on.”

“Ugh!”

“Alright for you to be sniffy about it, but we use everything we can round here. Not good enough for you is it?” she says snippily.

“No! No, I didn’t mean that. I’m just not used to it, that’s all. We just made do with what oil we could find.”

“You must have sat in the dark a lot then,” she says walking back over the bedroom threshold, brushing past me.

“We did,” I agree. “We’d sit in the kitchen with the stove door open, keeping warm and chatting. It was my favourite part of the day.

“Happier times then. And where’s your mother now?”

“She died … on the way up here … I tried-”

An arm suddenly wraps around my shoulder. “There now, lovie,” she soothes and I can’t help the tears flowing. “We escaped from them, and I sent them ahead to be safe so I could go back and help the others, but they … they followed them … and … and we found her grave on the roadside …”

“There, there,” she pulls me to her, pushing my head into her chest. The softness of her large breast comforting. “There’s nothing but hardship in this world. Shh. Aileen’s here. You let it out,” she croons and rocks me as we stand there.

A knock at the door.

“She’s a little upset. We just got talking about her mum,” she says to the visitor as the door swings open. I raise my head to see Pascha standing in the doorway and pull away from Aileen gently.

“I’m okay,” I say, wiping at the tears with the back of my hand. “Thank you, Aileen. I’m sorry for crying.”

“No, no. Don’t you go apologising for loving your mum,” she says gently giving me a final squeeze.

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