Athenia's Choice (ON HOLD)

Athenia's Choice: Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

Hot, bubbling anger. It was a new kind of feeling full of regret, sorrow, bitterness, fury, and a horrible ache.

“Mary-Jane,” Charles snapped, pulling me back. The man I had slapped eyed me suspiciously. Sweat crept around the sleeves and neck of my dress, and I was shaking so badly, with balled fists. Charles enveloped me in a hug.

“It’s my fault I didn’t keep an eye on her,” I whispered.

“No, both of ours,” Charles murmured, burying his pale face into my bushy bedraggled mane. His warmth enclosed around me, but all I needed was Cordelia.

Ida did not take the news well, beginning a screaming fit when the word ‘decapitation’ was spoken.

“Probably eaten by a fox or another wild animal,” Lord Laytoff declared, puffing out his chest. Ida said there was no point in a funeral until all of Cordelia’s body was found.

A cloud of doom started to hover over us all. The minutes crawled into hours. The hours slithered meaninglessly into days- days that I slaved away at the Laytoff’s, doting on their spoilt, brattish children. I hated the stupid disguise name ‘Mary-Jane’. I had thought running away would give me a sense of excitement- but a month away from Bodiam Castle seemed a 1000 years ago, a different world ago.

Cordelia’s death brought me and Charles closer together, as we both had this terrible pain like a constant knife stabbing at our hearts. He held me in his arms, half-smiling, although a sadness tinged his eyes and lips, a forever lingering reminder that we thought it was our faults. His warmth and softness made goose-pimples appear on my arms.

“If you could visit anywhere in this world, where would you choose?” Charles asked me one day. I was sat cross-legged in the grass, him on his stomach, enjoying a weak spot of sunshine. It didn’t brighten us up though, or the surroundings around us, which were dull and brown and bleak as usual. I pondered:

“Australia, for it rumoured there are exotic animals you can splendour there.” Charles chuckled.

“It is a hard place to live in, as is The Americas. Why, it was only 200 years ago Red Indians were ruling there.”

“But 200 hundred years ago is so long ago,” I responded scornfully, thinking how long my trivial life seemed, and then, guiltily, Cordelia’s.

“Not when the Earth has been around for simply millions of years,” Charles laughed, twisting a strand of my hair about his finger. I pulled away, teasingly, and his finger suddenly became caught on Mariettia’s necklace. I reached for it protectively; it was the one thing that gave me a sense of recognition to where I had come from.

The next day, the whole town was busy talking about a poster in the butcher’s and baker’s proclaiming ‘Taverner’s Funfair in Town!’ One of the well-to-do ladies, as I liked to call them, almost fainted when she was told of some of the amusements up for speculation there.

The other staff at the Laytoff’s, were also discussing this topic when I walked into the kitchen. Tallulah and Mrs Brown were both arguing about it, while Mark’s eyes were shining with astonishment.

“Oh do hush your voices, I only just got Susanna to sleep,” I whined at the squabbling pair.

“Righty-ho, Miss Mary-Jane,” Mrs Brown replied sarcastically, rolling her eyes. No wonder Tallulah was picking fights with her!

When I got back upstairs, with a glass of water for James and Annie, they both told me they required fresh air. Susanna awoke from her nap because of their clamouring, although I doubt she was ever asleep at all.

“Fine, Fine, I’ll ask Lady Laytoff,” I sighed.

With her permission secured, I grabbed a parasol from the doorway and cried out for the children to follow me as they arranged their expensive gloves and hats. It was unusually warm, so I was glad Ida had kindly lent me and old dress of her to wear, made from lighter and more practical material.

To stop the children moaning relentlessly, I promised them sweet buns from the baker at the end of our walk. I wondered secretly if their buns were as good as the ones I baked in Pembury. We wondered around the town gardens, and I gazed at the pleasant views like one member of society. The crickets were clicking, the birds were singing, and there was new life in the grass that suddenly sprung up, and the flowers were shaded intricately with all different colours.

The children, as I now called them, as James, Annie and Susanna is to exhausting to repeat over and over, were jumping around care-freely, brushing the tops of trees with their gloved hands, but I felt too weary to tell them off, as usual nowadays. Anyway, children shouldn’t be deprived of enjoyment, unlike my beastly Father did to me.

It was fatal retreating to the baker’s. Annie saw the ‘Taverner’s Funfair!’ posters and her hazelnut eyes immediately began glittering.

“Miss Mary-Jane, I beg you to take us,” she said passionately, as I ordered some of the sweet buns.

“Ask your mother,” I sighed.

“But she doesn’t approve of them, she says you get ‘allsorts’ there,” Annie whined, which was perfectly true. My mother, who shared the same opinion, brought me up to believe they were rough, shady, wicked places. The children’s faces swarmed with longing. Why should I take them? They had been so awfully naughty and petulant, so they hardly deserved a treat, did they? But there was this tiny spark of rebellion and wildness still left in me, wanting to lash out because of Cordelia’s death.

I made the simple choice of saying ‘yes’ or ‘no’.

“Yes, go on then, meet me by the Ale and Windbank tavern later on tonight.” They all squealed with delighted, and when collecting the sweet buns,I wondered if I had done the right thing.

“Your face is showing a dreadfully suspicious expression,” Charles told me, when I had returned back to his house. I looked around, tempted to tell him.

“What makes you think that?” I tried to sound innocent, and then excused myself to the privy. Of course I was not going to the privy, but the tavern, where I would meet the Laytoff children. They were a quarter of an hour late, which annoyed me greatly.

“Where have you been?” I hissed, grabbing an assortment of hands, and chivvying them along.

“Our Mama was near the door,” Susanna replied. I nodded. We hurried ourselves to the green.  The place was ablaze with glowing lanterns, the people’s wonder, music and the smells of delicious treats.  Dark fir trees leaned inwards, enclosing the crush of people and amusements together. The funfair was in full swing, but my nerves were swinging with fear.