A Blue Sky Existence

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

A Quagmire Effect

     ‘Tea?’

     ‘Yeah, thanks.’

     ‘Do you know what you’re doing about school yet?’ asked Etty, flicking the kettle switch.

     ‘I’ll still be there,’ replied Charlie, fetching mugs. A red one with the white silhouette of a car was kept in the Merciers’ kitchen specially for Charlie’s use. ‘If I took time off I’d only be missing out on work, and it’d make me feel depressed. I’ve had enough of feeling like that.’

     ‘Glad to hear it. I did think for a bit that you were starting to change, and not for the better. I don’t know, I don’t want to rush your healing process, but I’ve got to say, it’s nice to start having the old Charlie back.’

     ‘Hm.’

     Steam poured from the kettle spout. The tea was made; milk was added, fresh from the Heathside dairy.

     ‘There’s one setback though,’ said Charlie, having realised it only that second. ‘Some of my holiday work went up in flames. Not sure what to do about that.’

     ‘Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be fine,’ said Etty, but not in a dismissive way. ‘The teachers will understand. They can hardly punish you for unfinished work because your house burnt down.’

     ‘Suppose not. But thank God my photography journals weren’t damaged.’ Charlie sipped his tea. He was sitting on the kitchen counter, next to the sink, absent-mindedly swinging his legs so that they knocked gently against the cupboard doors.

     ‘Thing is, I’m not worried about the work so much as the people.’

     ‘What do you mean?’ Etty pivoted on her kitchen chair to face him.

     ‘I mean the attention. This is a small village - we both know how fast news travels. I’m gonna get gawked at and whispered about so much when we go back. Don’t know if I’ll be able to take it, to be honest. The funeral was bad enough.’

     ‘Hey, if you ever feel hassled, I’ll put a stop to it.’ She rubbed a hand up and down his arm affectionately. ‘No one gets to bother you except me.’

    Charlie had to smile at that. He took another gulp of tea. Then, trying to steer the conversation down a lighter path, Etty started talking about how her various projects for next year’s art course were progressing. Normally, Charlie would have made the effort to listen attentively. But he couldn’t ignore the feelings of anticipation, even anxiety, at the back of his mind.

    Would she really come back? If so, when? Today? How? Would she somehow ring up ahead of time, or just walk through his bedroom door in the middle of the night? What did she mean when she said she had “more to tell”? The previous day’s encounter was enough to leave him reeling, filled with revelations from a world beyond the one he’d always known.

     He hadn’t given up on the possibility that all the recent events had been some epic, lifelike nightmare, until today. He’d woken up in his bed in the cottage, gone downstairs, and seen the tarpaulin still there, the walls still bare, and the study still locked. Now he had to accept it. He wasn’t dreaming, and he hadn’t gone mad. He was dealing with unavoidable facts.

     ‘Charlie? Charlie.’

     ‘Sorry, what?’

     ‘What am I planning to do with the shoelaces?’