The Truth

Chapter 7

The man led me to a little shed thing nestled peacefully in the trees. Two large windows were situated either side of the door, but blinds prevented me from seeing inside. As we halted, I noticed that he was staring relentlessly at my chest. Uncomfortable, I turned my body and glared at him fiercely.

"Do you mind?" I said angrily when he continued to stare.

"Oh god," He flustered, "I'm sorry. I- you know what? You'll see. Tie your horse up here and come in when you're ready," He said politely, signalling to a fence and handing me a rope, before slipping quietly into the shed. I attached a piece of string from my pocket to the fence, tied the rope to Ash's bridle on one end and to the string on the other, and gave him a mint.

"Good boy," I whispered, rubbing behind his ear where he liked it, "I'll only be a minute. I don't think it's too serious. Let's just hope that he's not a pervert. If he is I'll shout 'carrots' and you break down the door and save me, ok? "

I gave him one final pat on the neck, took a deep breath, and entered the shed.

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The first thing that hit me was how well-lit and modern it was in there. I had to blink several times before my eyes adjusted and I could look around. It was a lot bigger than it had looked from outside; with bright white walls, and a comfy looking leather chair sitting in the corner by the door beside a leafy green plant; a portrait of some old black-and-white band hung above it. Opposite me was a huge window that took up the entire wall, overlooking the beautiful forest. A sheer cliff drop separated us and the trees; I hadn't realised that there was a lower level to the forest before. I made a mental note to explore there with Ash, Bonnie and her pretty palomino pony Kipling one day if we could get the permission. It looked stunning out there.

In front of the window was a huge glass desk and, behind it, a smart looking woman in a dress suit who I recognised to be the former mayor. She had grey hair pulled back into a bit of a loose bun and kind looking brown eyes. She looked up from her laptop when she noticed me and smiled so warmly that I couldn't help but smile back.

"Ebony Coburn!" She exclaimed, getting up and walking over to me, holding her hand out for me to shake. I took it. "My name is Rosalynn Carter, I used to be the mayor before they felt that my job wasn't necessary anymore and could be done themselves." She clenched her jaw as she said the last part and I got the feeling that she was extremely bitter about this fact. I also suppose the fact that they told us that she had resigned of her own accord probably didn't help. She unclenched and continued, "Anyway, I'm so glad that you came! I was worried that we wouldn't be able to find you, or even convince you to come!"

"Um, hi," I said awkwardly, "You're glad that I could come?"

"Yes, yes," She said breezily, bobbing back behind her desk, "My dear, you look very bewildered. I do hope that we didn't startle you. Please, please, take a seat!" She motioned to the chair opposite her and I sat. It was the most comfortable chair that I had ever sat in! It was made of leather, was thickly stuffed and could swivel round. As I sat, the man that had led me here came over from a kitchenette in the corner, placing some biscuits and a steaming mug of hot chocolate before me, with cream and little marshmallows. I had never experienced such luxury. I had no doubt that her stint as mayor had left her very well off.

"Right," She said, closing the lid of her laptop and leaning in to me, "Tell me, dear, how was your grandfather's funeral?"

My stomach flipped. Maybe it was about Frederick after all.

"Ok I guess," I shrugged, looking down at my hands on my lap.

"I bet it was tough," She smiled sympathetically, "He was a great man; I knew him quite well. Shame that I couldn't make it today."

"You knew him?"

"Yeah, he was my piano teacher when I was a little girl and we stayed in touch until I lost my job. Then we drifted apart."

"I never knew he could play piano."

"Oh yes, and quite the maestro he was too! It was fascinating watching his fingers dance over the keys."

"I bet it was."

She smiled sadly at me and looked as if she was going to say something else, but seemed to think better of it. 

"Anyway," She began, "Now to the reason that you're here. Can you tell me about that locket around your neck?"

My hand shot defensively straight over the locket and it suddenly dawned on me that the man had been staring at that and not my breasts. I had been questioned enough times on whether I had the locket registered under my name and was expecting this to be same old same old.

"My grandfather gave it to me on my eighth birthday," I explained for the umpteenth time, "It's a hunting eagle; all real gold. There's a picture of my horse on one side inside and my father, my little sister and I on the other. It belonged to his mother and used to be handed down the female line, but when she had three boys she gave it to her youngest, my grandfather. It is registered with me, you know. I would have thought that you lot would know that by now."

"Oh yes, I know. That's not why you're here. Do you know much else about it?"

"Not really. His mother never really told him much."

"Do you mind me having a look?"

"No; as long as you give me something of yours so I know you'll give it back."

"Fair enough," She smiled and slid her laptop over. I took it onto my lap and removed my locket, placing it carefully into her open palm. She opened it, smiling at the pictures. If there was one thing that I could say for this woman, it was that she certainly made the effort to smile a lot. She closed it again and inspected the outside, furrowing her brow as she ran her fingers over the back.

"You see this?" She asked, pointing to a tiny rod sticking out the back, made to look like a feather.

"Oh yeah," I said, running my finger over it too, "I'd noticed that before but I just figured it clipped onto a bracelet or ring or something,"

"You weren't too far wrong. This," She pointed to the rod again, "Clips onto a jewellery box. Within the box is an object that may hold the key to our freedom."

"What? What are you talking about?"

She leaned in close to me and lowered her voice. "Can I trust you wholeheartedly not to impart this information?" I nodded. "Good. I am a part of an organisation fighting for freedom from the authorities. For democracy. For fairness. And I need this box to do it. Whatever lies within will open up a vital hole in the authorities' power."

"So you want my locket?"

"No. I want you to get the box for me."

I was stunned. Why me?

"Where is it?" I asked, beginning to seriously consider it. This way I could escape for a while and explore without fear of being arrested as I'd have someone in power's consent.

"I can't tell you yet."

"Then how am I meant to get it?"

"This is a top secret operation. If you are captured they will torture you." I shuddered. It was sounding a lot less appealing now. "If you have the information they seek then they will punish you. Instead, you will go to Ambleside in the Lake District, where you will meet one of my associates who will tell you where to find it. It's much safer for you that way." 

"Ok... so I won't actually have official authorisation to leave the village? I'll be crossing the country whilst being hunted?"

"In effect, yes."

"Huh." I ran my fingers through my long dark hair and pressed my eyes into my palms. If I went then there would be a good chance I could be killed. I'd be crossing the country alone and away from my family, away from Bonnie, for potentially months. It would be dangerous. But all of a sudden a fire rose up within me. Why was I scared? The authorities didn't own me; I owned me. How dare they punish me for leaving my village? How dare they kill my family? How dare they torture me? They would pay. And if getting that box would destroy them then I wanted in.

"Ok," I decided, the determination in my eyes seemingly making Rosalynn uncomfortable. I didn't care. "I'll do it."