It was seven o’clock in the morning. The sound of bubbling water resounded throughout many homes in the United Kingdom as kettles were brought to a boil and coffee machines hummed away.
Like many people in England Cora Spence enjoyed a cup of tea first thing in the morning - it helped to wake her up and ready her for the day.
Standing in the large, stone-tiled kitchen of the blue cottage, directly under Robert Clarke’s bedroom, the elderly woman with fiery red hair drank a cup of hot, herbal tea.
Cora put the bright green mug to her lips and sipped on the watery mixture of lemon and ginger. She nibbled on a slice of toast and looked out onto the back garden, watching a tiny wren hop along the garden path.
Cora Spence was a remarkably striking woman. She had wild red hair that she fixed high upon her head. She wore thick red lipstick and bright blue eye shadow to match her bright blue eyes. She often wore clothes that were, to be polite, a bit snug and her body resembled that of a bullfrog - skinny arms and legs with a large bloated torso.
She was generally a happy person, however, on this particular morning Cora Spence felt unusually sombre. She had just received some very bad news from a man she did not like all that much.
‘So how long does he have?’ Cora asked and turned to face the man with the red eye sitting on the other side of the kitchen table.
‘From what I can tell four years, give or take.'
‘Give or take?’
‘A few weeks.’
‘How is this possible?’ Cora asked and turned her back on the man. ‘What will be the cause of my grandson’s death?’ her voice choked slightly as she spoke.
‘I do not know...’
‘When will you know?’ she asked and set the mug she held between her hands down on the windowsill a little harder then she had intended.
‘I fear, before it is too late,’ the man sighed, ‘But I do know this – the star he is destined for will find him and pull him in, it is how it has been planned and nothing can change that.’
Cora picked up the mug, stirred her tea with a small silver spoon, clanging the spoon against the sides of the mug and took another sip.
The old clock on the wall chimed, telling all who could hear it that it was eight o’clock in the morning. Cora Spence immediately thought of her grandson, upstairs and fast asleep.
Over the nine years they had lived together, Cora loved Robert like he was her own son. He was the most precious thing in her life. Even though she rarely said it, she loved him greatly and news of her grandson’s foretold death hurt her more than she thought she was capable of feeling. Her heart felt heavy and tears sprung to the corners of her eyes.
She turned back to face the man with the red eye.
‘You should go’ she said and with that the red eyed man stood up to leave.
‘Just one last thing,’ the man said as he stood in the doorway of the cottage, ‘Am I missed? Am I ever thought of?’
Cora Spence looked down at the ground, unsure of how to answer. Her eyes wondered across the floor past to the man’s feet, which she then stared at, making sure to avoid looking at his eyes.
‘I don’t know’ she decided to answer truthfully.
An awkward silence of unspoken truths and buried memories now filled the air.
‘I’ve left a book on the table.’
Cora nodded, just a little and she looked distantly past the man.
‘It’s Timaeus’ book,’ the red eyed man said meeting the elderly woman’s gaze. ‘You know what to say and how much you can reveal?’
‘I don’t know any more than what you’ve told me’ she shrugged.
‘Give the book to Robert when the time is right and don’t tell the others.’ He stressed the last bit and paused to look at Cora. The man then opened the front door and swiftly left the cottage.
‘How will I know when the time is right...ah,’ Cora grunted as she now stood alone in the kitchen. ‘He always does that...’ she whispered.
Cora Spence looked up at the ceiling and thought of her grandson. She put the book the red eyed man had left on the kitchen table into her handbag and locked the front door. She forced a smile upon her face, dabbed the tears from her eyes and cast away any feelings of sadness. She was now fun-loving, carefree Nana Spence...
YOU ARE READING
The Bearded Man and The Ghost Girl
Teen Fiction'Robert first saw the ghost girl standing in the churchyard. Her hair was long, her skin was pale and her body glowed, bathing the nearby graves in a cool white light. She was unlike any girl Robert had seen. Her face was unconventionally beautiful...
