Through His Eyes Are the Rivers of Time by Barbara Bretana

Author:Barbara Bretana [Bretana, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Ghosts, Paranormal, Science Fiction, Time Travel, Wales
ISBN: 9781311984869
Publisher: Barbara Bretana
Published: 2014-10-07T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

My dreams woke me every morning with a churning stomach and uneasiness, that made me pale, quiet; forcing me into a fake cheerfulness that everyone noticed. I tried to deny it, eating and drinking like normal but the minute I left the table, it was to race to the restroom and throw up.

Trouble was I couldn’t remember what the dreams were about, just that it left me gasping for air and in holy terror.

Tom and Cammy badgered me to tell but in truth, I couldn’t. I didn’t know why or what the dreams were about.

Boxing Day came and went. Snow fell on the ground and bathed the city in white making it look like a fairy tale park. Tom took me into the city to enact some business and watch the parade. We Hadn’t seen or heard from those detective inspectors in quite awhile and he’d told me the rumors of the cat burglar had died down, no new thefts. As I was stuck at his flats and hadn’t gone exploring.

I had lost another stone and he wanted me to see his physician. I’d refused and thrown a tantrum, which amazed both of them.

“He’s acting like a bloody teenage brat,” Tom complained and Cammy laughed.

“You mean he’s acting normal,” she teased. “Be grateful he’s not out joyriding, burning down flats or doing drugs.”

“He should be married, with kids of his own and running Cryllwythe Enterprises Ltd,” he grumbled. We saw the Cornish Red Lion and purple rose of the farm’s logo on products everywhere.

I wandered the grocers aisles absurdly pleased that my dad’s enterprises were so successful.

Tom called me, told me he was just nipping into the tobacco shop next door and then the vintners if I wanted to come with but I declined, said I would get something to eat at the fish and chips across the street. He warned me to watch for traffic and I rolled my eyes. He said nothing but watched me with a troubled look as I darted out the door. The bell tinkled behind me.

The chip shop smelled heavenly. There were a few tables inside and all occupied. I ordered a three piece and watched impatiently as they cooked it, dumped it into a paper basket, and handed it to me.

I stood by a table waiting for a seat, picking at the chips one by one when I heard a familiar voice, the blonde DI with the Dutch accent was seated in the corner. “Aidan, right?” he addressed me. I didn’t want to look up. “Come sit with me. I don’t mind sharing.”

I hesitated and he smiled. “I can make it an order,” he said. I walked over and sat down. “You’re thinner than last time,” he commented. “Doesn’t Watson feed you?”

“Yes. I throw up.” I flushed, wished I hadn’t said that.

“Throw up? Why? He doesn’t mess with you, does he?”

“NO! Tom hates pedophiles!”

“Does he?’

“Yes. One did it to him as a kid.”

“Really. Why aren’t you in school?”

I didn’t know what to tell him.

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