Beneath The Waves

(16) Luck and Chaos

Chapter 16

On Friday night, instead of her usual dream of falling from the boat and being dragged underwater, Frankie dreamt of a house. Or rather, some kind of shed; an old, dilapidated thing, made of uneven wooden slats that seemed half rotted through, weathered by wind and rain. It creaked dully against a backdrop of steely grey sky and feathers of snow, and just looking at it, Frankie felt a deep surge of dread.

She woke early on Saturday morning, and pulled back the curtains to glance outside. It had been snowing on and off since Thursday, just as she’d predicted – thin, papery snow that mostly melted the second it touched the ground. This morning, though, everything had frozen solid, including the thin layer of crackly snow on the grass, and the icicles of frost on leaves and puddles.

Tennyson’s tail churned so fast it looked as though he had several of them, and Frankie couldn’t resist his eagerness. She slipped outside before she’d even eaten breakfast, her breath smoking in silvery clouds out her lips. The air was frigidly cold and silent.

Tennyson loved the snow. He gambled about over the grass, sending up fluffy white sprays, and despite Frankie’s misgivings about snow, she couldn’t help smiling. It was beautiful, she had to admit, the way it crystallised on the grass as though someone had sprayed diamonds everywhere. The trees were shrouded in white, and the houses looked like gingerbread cottages, dusted with icing sugar.

Something about them reminded Frankie of her dream, and she shivered, clutching her coat tighter around her. She couldn’t explain the surge of foreboding that had flooded through her at the sight of the old, rickety shed, but she knew, somehow, that something bad would happen there. Something that would upset her, or scare her, or hurt her.

Her phone buzzed from the pocket of her woollen coat, and she dug it out. It was a text from Ryan. Still on to see Peters at three?

Sure. I love visiting crazy old guys. Frankie had a wry smile on her face as she sent the text. The truth was, she really did want to see Peters; not knowing stuff, especially important stuff, drove her crazy, and she was pretty sure this Siren business would lump her in an asylum if she kept up with no answers.

She had little to do that day, and both Moira and Ed were out, so she had the house to herself, something she secretly liked. As she was digging through her book collection for something different to read, she found an old cookbook. Flipping through the pages, she found a recipe that was splodged with stains and dusted with flour from all the times it had been used. A nostalgic smile curled up on her face. Chocolate chip cookies. Her old favourite.

Tennyson seemed beside himself with excitement as Frankie started to gather ingredients. He trotted around the kitchen after her, lying next to her feet and nearly tripping her up whenever she didn’t notice him.

“Can you stop being so clingy for five minutes?” Frankie said with a grin, stirring the thick, doughy batter as Tennyson plonked himself down next to her, his paw squashing her foot, and stared imploringly up at her with melting chocolate eyes.

She added a spoonful of flour, then lifted it and blew softly, causing a cascade of white to patter down around Tennyson. He jumped up and skittered away, shaking his fur. Frankie laughed at his bewilderment, though in retrospect, dusting flour all over Moira’s kitchen floor probably wasn’t her brightest idea.

Ryan must’ve arrived some time while the cookies were in the oven, but she didn’t realise until she heard the bell ring, just as she was pulling a tray out the oven.

Tennyson went mad, just like he always did when the bell went, and Frankie held his collar as she opened the door. “Hey, Ryan.”

“Let me in, I’m freezing!” Ryan stepped inside, his shoulders hunched inside a black hoodie that didn’t seem to be keeping the warmth in, and Frankie shut the door, closing out the cold air. He let out a sigh of relief as Tennyson pawed at his ankles. “Hi.”