The Aberrant Sword by Rebecca Ripley

Author:Rebecca Ripley [Ripley, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-11-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

The bus journey took ages. We had to wait half an hour in the cold before the big red double decker showed up. We had hardly said a word to each other.

Kathy had failed to rub the blood off her hands and was hiding them as well as she could in the pockets of her thick black coat. I felt stupid for setting off to London with nothing more than a leather jacket in the middle of winter. Typically me.

It wasn’t until a ray of sunlight hit me straight in the face that I woke up from my horrible nightmare. The images of the house, the kids, the wounded… they had left a deep impression. It took me a while to fall asleep last night and I am sure Kathy had been crying on the sofa on the other side of the room.

I’m a great friend if I say so myself, but I am not that good with comforting people – or giving great advice, so I decided to ignore it for now and see how she was in the morning.

The smell of fresh coffee entered my nose and just as I throw off the heavy blankets the rasping sound of the broken mechanical doorbell rings through the house.

Danny, who had appeared in the door, froze. She looks at me. Eyes big. I can read the panic in them. The absolute fear.

Who would ring the bell at 9 am? Why would someone ring a bell here? She beckons someone on the other side of the hall and an unshaven, unwashed Gustav comes into sight. He was wearing a plaid bath robe and ditto slippers. I can hear the rattling of keys, a little mumble, a thank you and then a thump when Gustav closes the door again.

Both Danny and Gustav enter the room, eyes on me. In his hands, Gustav holds a large and seemingly heavy brown package. “Are you crazy?” Danny starts at me.

I have no idea what she is talking about. “Ordering stuff to this address?” She wipes her forehead. “I don’t care you are her grandchild. You are a goddamn moron. That’s what you are. I should never have…” She sighed. “Here.” Danny pulls the package out of Gustav’s hands and throws it onto the little air mattress I had bought at Mr Singh’s yesterday.

The brown paper ruffles in my hands as I pick up the heavy parcel. ‘Isabelle Whitelock’ it says in beautiful black curly handwriting.

Wait a minute… my heart starts to beat faster and I feel blood rushing to my head. This is…

“Guys! My grandmother sent us this!” I call out. Danny stops dead in her tracks on her way out of the room. “What do you mean?” She asks, pushing some of her wild curls behind her ears.

I hold up the heavy parcel and point out the handwriting on the front. “This is her handwriting!” I tear into the parcel. The brown paper makes room for a marvellous read leather. A book.

Gustav falls on his knees in front of the tome.

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