Post by Icon Lady Eva Hikari on Aug 24, 2015 13:05:10 GMT -6
Smoke tainted the early evening air, hanging over everything like an acrid smelling shroud. Despite the heat of the day a cold had descended without mercy. Taking with it all the older folk, the refuge of their fireside armchairs and comfy slippers had been sought and clung to. It was how it always was here. Habits didn’t change, neither did the people if you were honest enough to admit it. Faces were passed down through families along with names. Generations of vaguely familiar people you could exchange a nod and a smile with. You didn’t need to speak to know who they were, or who their mam and dad was. Life revolved around gossip, and here the WI were its keepers. It was traded along with slices of cake and cups of tea at most church socials. It was the heart of it all, along with the pub. So why had she come back here? It was a question Eva had been asking herself for years, a question she had never found the answer to. People knew her, not as the entity she had been or the woman she had become, but as a child. There was some sort of vague comfort in that. Though her house was outside of village life, it still allowed her to be part of it. Still let her have some sort of connection to the world she had lost so long ago. Something screeched overhead, reminding the young woman that it would soon be dark. Bats were taking over from the birds and there wasn’t much light in the church yard.
It didn’t matter too much, she knew her route. She had walked it for years, daily at first, then weeks, months, years. It wasn’t the old church that brought her back, faith was an issue she wasn’t prepared to touch. She could remember the last time she’d set foot in that place. Thinking about it made her shiver. Pushing her hands further into the pockets of her trench coat she exhaled smoke. She didn’t smoke often, or properly. It was a habit created as a comfort device. A throwback to the time when the most pressing issue was getting caught skiving with Will. Her unblinking eyes remained fixed on the slab in front of her. It was one of the most expensive props she’d ever owned. All the faith she had left had gone into that, been shoved and shaped and clung to with enough desperation that she had believed. Childhood had taken most things but it had left her that, she could convince herself of anything if she was scared enough, if she needed it to be real enough. Taking another drag she flicks away ash, watching it settle on the cold stone. Someone had “tagged” it at some point, the traces of red spray paint lingered on the gold lettering even if it had been cleaned. The birds had picked up the sentiment by obscuring the surname with enough shit to justify her choice to place it under a tree.
Smokin’ ‘al kill yer, lass.
Snapped out of her own head with a jolt she actually had to pull herself back into the here and now. The gravel path didn’t offer anyone a silent arrival. Annoyed at herself for jumping as much at the intrusion, she takes a deep breath and a deeper drag of her cigarette. Her usual figure of morbid beauty, most people didn’t bother approaching her here. Who would? Who really wanted to know why the tragic young girl came up here by herself. A cemetery wasn’t high on most people’s lists of sites for social gatherings.
Aye? It’ll have to get in line. These days there’s a queue.
Undeterred by the tone of her voice, or the rather intimidating figure she somehow managed to cut in her metal heeled boots and leather fitted trench coat, the old man shuffled to stand beside her, his shoulder almost brushing hers as he turned his weathered face to look at her. He couldn’t see much with her hair hanging in loose waves around her. A brief glimpse showed her enough of him though. Three day old greying stubble, a nose that had seen its fair share of breaks and a flush to the cheeks that could have been at embarrassment at her smart arsed answer or something else. She didn’t scrutinise him enough to try diagnosing him and her people skills or lack of were fairly legendary. Running a heavy hand through tousled, greying hair he looked to his slippered feet abruptly. Hard to believe he’d come out to the most remote part of the village in his bloody slippers, but it took all sorts, didn’t it? He wasn’t dressed for it to get much colder. His clothes had the comfy lived in look of someone who hadn’t brought anything new in about thirty odd years. His jumper was frayed in places, the stitching giving way as if unravelled. Silence was awkward, enough so that the man decided to try and fill it. Clearing his throat, he must have missed the withering look she briefly aimed at him.
Sorry lass, it were wrong to interrupt yer grief. Never did like seein’ a young ‘un upset….
Had she been upset? She didn’t think so. She’d been thoughtful, maybe even brooding but this place didn’t upset her. She came here to think, to watch the unmoving stone she had placed so much weight onto. Taking a deep breath of the coal tainted air she shook her head.
Wasn’t grieving, love. The sight of this crap covered rock actually makes me happy.
Shrugging her shoulders she takes a final drag of her cigarette before flicking it at the overpriced slab. It bounces into the gravel before she crushes it under a dangerous heel. It had been years since she’d come here, years since she’d felt the need to seek sanctuary in her own delusions. They didn’t offer her safety anymore.
Bring fond memories of yer old man then, does it?
Slipping her hands into her pockets, her eyes narrowed as she fixed him in her stare and held him there. Hazel eyes burned into his own until he managed to look suitably ashamed of himself. The colour rises in his lined cheeks. His hands told tales of hard work, a hard life and a map of scars and calluses. Pushing them into his pockets he does nothing more than smile. On a different face it could have been considered a spiteful smile. With a better look at his face the young woman could have sworn she’d seen him before. It wasn’t a stretch, it was a small village.
What makes you think he was my dad?
Age, yer look….early 30’s?
Nodding, she lets her attention drop from him. There was something in his voice she didn’t like, she didn’t know what but she found it unsettling. Maybe she was spending too much time around southerners and Americans. Sniffing and instantly wishing she hadn’t, she takes a step away from the man.
Yeah, he spawned me. It’s not really a secret round these parts though. I shed the name as soon as I could, but the legacy……the memory of who he was.
‘e was a good un then?
She actually laughed, the sound cutting through the normal dusk creature back drop. Popping a tic tac in her mouth she shrugged. She’d have to go back to the house soon, smelling like smoke always tipped folk off to her mood.
Not from round here are you, sweetheart? Aye, he was a good one. Good at spreading pain and misery. Not one to be mourned or missed, an you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone round here who doesn’t echo that.
Digesting this with the same unnerving smile he’d worn for the last few minutes his eyes moved constantly between the young woman and the headstone.
Ah, ‘e the one killed ‘is missus then? Smacked around them kiddies a bit…..Dint know ‘e were dead mind. Suppose it’s fer best, likes of ‘im.
She was beginning to sound wary, being civil and nice took too much energy and this was bordering on territory she had no desire to enter. Even Leon didn’t know the truth, not the whole truth. Her voice was low, lacking her usual strength. Barely leaving her rich red lips as a whisper. She didn’t like the way this old biddy was looking at her.
Death is a mercy not everyone deserves. It’s a release when some deserve only suffering………My sister used to come here every week. Sit and talk to the headstone like he was really there. She’d bring flowers….always red roses, and a bottle of brandy. She glorified him, put him on a bloody pedestal.
Licking his lips the old man edged closer still. The smell of stale tobacco and aniseed followed him. Eva didn’t seem to notice, she was restless and she didn’t quite know why.
Don’t see no flowers now….
Attention flickering dangerously to him, she becomes aware just how close he was. It had gotten dark quite quickly, the moon rising above the trees around them. It offered a welcome boost to the otherwise frail light. A single star had joined it, the one a very young and more naïve Eva used to wish on religiously.
No, his one and only fan has gone the way he should’ve. There’ll be no more flowers…..maybe a bit of bird seed.
Holding up his hands in a gesture of submission, the man pulls a tobacco pouch from his pocket and begins rolling a cigarette. The act appears second nature to him, from the colour of his nails it probably was.
Dunno whole story, lass. Wouldn’ wanna either. Them folk let a kiddie give evidence. Not saying I agree or owt, but she were what…..six? Wha’ she saw and what ‘appened, well…..
Letting his sentiment hang in the air and he lights up his soggy cigarette, succeeding against all odds in getting it lit. Taking a couple of quick puffs he blows smoke in the young woman’s direction. The older villagers all knew the story. It was in the papers at the time of course. The most exciting thing to happen here since the vicar’s wife gave half the village food poisoning that year at the fete. Not all of Eva’s scars had been earned in the ring. It was easy enough to explain them away, pretend they were and dismiss them as a risk of the game they all played between the ropes. She’d been reckless in her youth, eager to earn her “stripes” and obscure some of the others. Shivering, not for the first time that evening she huddled deeper into her coat.
You don’t forget the nightmares, no matter what effigy you erect, what deity you pray to, what star you wish upon.
All childish notions she had spread her faith over and poured so much hope into. You live and learn though, and one thing she had learned fairly early on was that there was no place for childhood fantasy in the cold hard reality of life. It would take anything you didn’t cling to, and pervert the things you did. Shrugging away her thought the old man had soundlessly shuffled closer still. His shoulder brushed the raven haired young woman’s. His heavy lidded brown eyes searching as if looking through her. He wasn’t undressing her with his eyes he was taking her apart. Licking his lips, he wiped his mouth on the back of a hand. His roll up held between his thumb and middle finger as he squinted in the gloom.
Two kids wan’ it? Lil one were too small to be part of it all if I remember right. What ‘appened to ‘er?
It was an odd question delivered in the same curiously mocking tone this strange old creature had used from the start. He wasn’t the little old codger he appeared, a crazy house escapee maybe? Eva could feel his breath on her neck. Even to a normal person he was uncomfortably close. For someone who flinched when touched by strange older men, someone who wasn’t fond of physical contact from anyone not inside her inner circle of contacts it caused her stomach to constrict. Biting back the bile she turned away eager to get on the path away from here and him. He followed, a few seconds after her feet hit gravel. The crunch followed her footsteps, his scratching as he shuffled.
Hayden? For a bloody busy body you don’t keep up with the gossip much, do you?
Av been away for years…..
Sighing heavily and catching herself before she put more thought into bludgeoning the old fool she rolled her eyes. Years ago there’d been hundreds like him. Seeking information so they can tut and despair over someone else’s pain. They made the press seem civilised.
Hayden is dead.
He actually seemed disturbed by her abrupt tone, in a better mood she would have allowed herself a smug grin. His stunned silence didn’t last for long though. Choking smoke as he struggled to catch her up he opened his mouth to speak revealing a perfect set of false teeth.
Ev-lyn….
The way he pronounced her name made her blood freeze in her veins. Eyes widening she suddenly felt the need to be away from old slippers and away from here.
Muuuuuuuuuuummy!
He actually walked into her, given how quickly she stopped. Why the bloody hell her baby was in a cemetery in the dark she couldn’t guess. She did know however that she didn’t like it. He wasn’t hard to spot with his light up trainers, and the figure trailing behind for the same daft reason he always had, made her feel safe. With his flat cap, tweed jacket and stick, William looked every inch the country gent. Scooping up her little boy and clinging to him, she tried to shoot a nasty look at the old bloke. Tried, but she couldn’t see him. Shadows grew without outdoor electric lights and either he moved more quickly than he’d been letting on, or she had acquired her first ninja stalker.
Mum, I saw a vampire! It was flapping it’s wings and eatin’ bugs.
He means a bat….he saw a bat and decided it was Dracula. He’s named every one he’s seen so far tonight. Can you guess how many have been called Count?
Ruffling his nephew’s hair, the sometimes lawyer ran a critical eye over his sister. She was pale for some reason, and he didn’t like the way she kept looking around her. There was nothing out here but them, the wildlife, and if the rustling bushes in the far corner were to be believed a very large angry badger.
You alright petal? You look like you’re going to be sick.
Slipping his arm around her waist, he shoots one last critical stare around him before doing his best to lead her away from the church. This place always gave him the creeps. He didn’t like her coming here and certainly didn’t like her being here alone. He was on high alert, no doubt caused by his sister’s mood. They’d always had that sometimes irritating ability. They knew each other too well, and the fact that he’d had to physically steer her out of the field of death didn’t bode well. Lucan didn’t see that, but he sure as hell picked up on something. Planting kisses on her cheek, he buried his head in her neck, clinging to her. Sometimes being held made everything okay.
I think the press are stalking again……..There was the strangest old bloke asking questions in there.
You sure, Ev’s? I didn’t see anyone but you, and old people aren’t known for jumping into bushes…… Incidentally, if that bloody badger, fox thing starts tailing us, I’m tripping you and making a run for it.
Making light of the situation would have been his usual method of dealing with it, this however was just Will being freaked out by the British wildlife. The reaction the man had to a hedgehog was no better. Despite the uneasiness still lingering the young woman offered a small smile. Lucan had relaxed enough to be drifting off, a bad habit shouting back to the days where she would carry him around for hours, marvelling at this small part of Leon staring back at her.
Love you too, you oaf. I’m thinking…….Maybe I should take the stone down?
Rustling from the nearby trees causes the young man’s head to snap in the direction of the sound. His 4 x 4 was waiting to take them back to safety, and he knew Leon was already anxious. Snapping Eva out of this train of thought was best for everyone involved. She was lost somewhere, back in her mind. He could tell by the look in her eyes. The one she would smile about and dismiss when asked about.
Sure, if it’s drawing unsavoury types then why not? Let the ghosts rest….
A humourless smile met a hopeless look and made his stomach sink.
They aren’t resting, Will.
It didn’t matter too much, she knew her route. She had walked it for years, daily at first, then weeks, months, years. It wasn’t the old church that brought her back, faith was an issue she wasn’t prepared to touch. She could remember the last time she’d set foot in that place. Thinking about it made her shiver. Pushing her hands further into the pockets of her trench coat she exhaled smoke. She didn’t smoke often, or properly. It was a habit created as a comfort device. A throwback to the time when the most pressing issue was getting caught skiving with Will. Her unblinking eyes remained fixed on the slab in front of her. It was one of the most expensive props she’d ever owned. All the faith she had left had gone into that, been shoved and shaped and clung to with enough desperation that she had believed. Childhood had taken most things but it had left her that, she could convince herself of anything if she was scared enough, if she needed it to be real enough. Taking another drag she flicks away ash, watching it settle on the cold stone. Someone had “tagged” it at some point, the traces of red spray paint lingered on the gold lettering even if it had been cleaned. The birds had picked up the sentiment by obscuring the surname with enough shit to justify her choice to place it under a tree.
Smokin’ ‘al kill yer, lass.
Snapped out of her own head with a jolt she actually had to pull herself back into the here and now. The gravel path didn’t offer anyone a silent arrival. Annoyed at herself for jumping as much at the intrusion, she takes a deep breath and a deeper drag of her cigarette. Her usual figure of morbid beauty, most people didn’t bother approaching her here. Who would? Who really wanted to know why the tragic young girl came up here by herself. A cemetery wasn’t high on most people’s lists of sites for social gatherings.
Aye? It’ll have to get in line. These days there’s a queue.
Undeterred by the tone of her voice, or the rather intimidating figure she somehow managed to cut in her metal heeled boots and leather fitted trench coat, the old man shuffled to stand beside her, his shoulder almost brushing hers as he turned his weathered face to look at her. He couldn’t see much with her hair hanging in loose waves around her. A brief glimpse showed her enough of him though. Three day old greying stubble, a nose that had seen its fair share of breaks and a flush to the cheeks that could have been at embarrassment at her smart arsed answer or something else. She didn’t scrutinise him enough to try diagnosing him and her people skills or lack of were fairly legendary. Running a heavy hand through tousled, greying hair he looked to his slippered feet abruptly. Hard to believe he’d come out to the most remote part of the village in his bloody slippers, but it took all sorts, didn’t it? He wasn’t dressed for it to get much colder. His clothes had the comfy lived in look of someone who hadn’t brought anything new in about thirty odd years. His jumper was frayed in places, the stitching giving way as if unravelled. Silence was awkward, enough so that the man decided to try and fill it. Clearing his throat, he must have missed the withering look she briefly aimed at him.
Sorry lass, it were wrong to interrupt yer grief. Never did like seein’ a young ‘un upset….
Had she been upset? She didn’t think so. She’d been thoughtful, maybe even brooding but this place didn’t upset her. She came here to think, to watch the unmoving stone she had placed so much weight onto. Taking a deep breath of the coal tainted air she shook her head.
Wasn’t grieving, love. The sight of this crap covered rock actually makes me happy.
Shrugging her shoulders she takes a final drag of her cigarette before flicking it at the overpriced slab. It bounces into the gravel before she crushes it under a dangerous heel. It had been years since she’d come here, years since she’d felt the need to seek sanctuary in her own delusions. They didn’t offer her safety anymore.
Bring fond memories of yer old man then, does it?
Slipping her hands into her pockets, her eyes narrowed as she fixed him in her stare and held him there. Hazel eyes burned into his own until he managed to look suitably ashamed of himself. The colour rises in his lined cheeks. His hands told tales of hard work, a hard life and a map of scars and calluses. Pushing them into his pockets he does nothing more than smile. On a different face it could have been considered a spiteful smile. With a better look at his face the young woman could have sworn she’d seen him before. It wasn’t a stretch, it was a small village.
What makes you think he was my dad?
Age, yer look….early 30’s?
Nodding, she lets her attention drop from him. There was something in his voice she didn’t like, she didn’t know what but she found it unsettling. Maybe she was spending too much time around southerners and Americans. Sniffing and instantly wishing she hadn’t, she takes a step away from the man.
Yeah, he spawned me. It’s not really a secret round these parts though. I shed the name as soon as I could, but the legacy……the memory of who he was.
‘e was a good un then?
She actually laughed, the sound cutting through the normal dusk creature back drop. Popping a tic tac in her mouth she shrugged. She’d have to go back to the house soon, smelling like smoke always tipped folk off to her mood.
Not from round here are you, sweetheart? Aye, he was a good one. Good at spreading pain and misery. Not one to be mourned or missed, an you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone round here who doesn’t echo that.
Digesting this with the same unnerving smile he’d worn for the last few minutes his eyes moved constantly between the young woman and the headstone.
Ah, ‘e the one killed ‘is missus then? Smacked around them kiddies a bit…..Dint know ‘e were dead mind. Suppose it’s fer best, likes of ‘im.
She was beginning to sound wary, being civil and nice took too much energy and this was bordering on territory she had no desire to enter. Even Leon didn’t know the truth, not the whole truth. Her voice was low, lacking her usual strength. Barely leaving her rich red lips as a whisper. She didn’t like the way this old biddy was looking at her.
Death is a mercy not everyone deserves. It’s a release when some deserve only suffering………My sister used to come here every week. Sit and talk to the headstone like he was really there. She’d bring flowers….always red roses, and a bottle of brandy. She glorified him, put him on a bloody pedestal.
Licking his lips the old man edged closer still. The smell of stale tobacco and aniseed followed him. Eva didn’t seem to notice, she was restless and she didn’t quite know why.
Don’t see no flowers now….
Attention flickering dangerously to him, she becomes aware just how close he was. It had gotten dark quite quickly, the moon rising above the trees around them. It offered a welcome boost to the otherwise frail light. A single star had joined it, the one a very young and more naïve Eva used to wish on religiously.
No, his one and only fan has gone the way he should’ve. There’ll be no more flowers…..maybe a bit of bird seed.
Holding up his hands in a gesture of submission, the man pulls a tobacco pouch from his pocket and begins rolling a cigarette. The act appears second nature to him, from the colour of his nails it probably was.
Dunno whole story, lass. Wouldn’ wanna either. Them folk let a kiddie give evidence. Not saying I agree or owt, but she were what…..six? Wha’ she saw and what ‘appened, well…..
Letting his sentiment hang in the air and he lights up his soggy cigarette, succeeding against all odds in getting it lit. Taking a couple of quick puffs he blows smoke in the young woman’s direction. The older villagers all knew the story. It was in the papers at the time of course. The most exciting thing to happen here since the vicar’s wife gave half the village food poisoning that year at the fete. Not all of Eva’s scars had been earned in the ring. It was easy enough to explain them away, pretend they were and dismiss them as a risk of the game they all played between the ropes. She’d been reckless in her youth, eager to earn her “stripes” and obscure some of the others. Shivering, not for the first time that evening she huddled deeper into her coat.
You don’t forget the nightmares, no matter what effigy you erect, what deity you pray to, what star you wish upon.
All childish notions she had spread her faith over and poured so much hope into. You live and learn though, and one thing she had learned fairly early on was that there was no place for childhood fantasy in the cold hard reality of life. It would take anything you didn’t cling to, and pervert the things you did. Shrugging away her thought the old man had soundlessly shuffled closer still. His shoulder brushed the raven haired young woman’s. His heavy lidded brown eyes searching as if looking through her. He wasn’t undressing her with his eyes he was taking her apart. Licking his lips, he wiped his mouth on the back of a hand. His roll up held between his thumb and middle finger as he squinted in the gloom.
Two kids wan’ it? Lil one were too small to be part of it all if I remember right. What ‘appened to ‘er?
It was an odd question delivered in the same curiously mocking tone this strange old creature had used from the start. He wasn’t the little old codger he appeared, a crazy house escapee maybe? Eva could feel his breath on her neck. Even to a normal person he was uncomfortably close. For someone who flinched when touched by strange older men, someone who wasn’t fond of physical contact from anyone not inside her inner circle of contacts it caused her stomach to constrict. Biting back the bile she turned away eager to get on the path away from here and him. He followed, a few seconds after her feet hit gravel. The crunch followed her footsteps, his scratching as he shuffled.
Hayden? For a bloody busy body you don’t keep up with the gossip much, do you?
Av been away for years…..
Sighing heavily and catching herself before she put more thought into bludgeoning the old fool she rolled her eyes. Years ago there’d been hundreds like him. Seeking information so they can tut and despair over someone else’s pain. They made the press seem civilised.
Hayden is dead.
He actually seemed disturbed by her abrupt tone, in a better mood she would have allowed herself a smug grin. His stunned silence didn’t last for long though. Choking smoke as he struggled to catch her up he opened his mouth to speak revealing a perfect set of false teeth.
Ev-lyn….
The way he pronounced her name made her blood freeze in her veins. Eyes widening she suddenly felt the need to be away from old slippers and away from here.
Muuuuuuuuuuummy!
He actually walked into her, given how quickly she stopped. Why the bloody hell her baby was in a cemetery in the dark she couldn’t guess. She did know however that she didn’t like it. He wasn’t hard to spot with his light up trainers, and the figure trailing behind for the same daft reason he always had, made her feel safe. With his flat cap, tweed jacket and stick, William looked every inch the country gent. Scooping up her little boy and clinging to him, she tried to shoot a nasty look at the old bloke. Tried, but she couldn’t see him. Shadows grew without outdoor electric lights and either he moved more quickly than he’d been letting on, or she had acquired her first ninja stalker.
Mum, I saw a vampire! It was flapping it’s wings and eatin’ bugs.
He means a bat….he saw a bat and decided it was Dracula. He’s named every one he’s seen so far tonight. Can you guess how many have been called Count?
Ruffling his nephew’s hair, the sometimes lawyer ran a critical eye over his sister. She was pale for some reason, and he didn’t like the way she kept looking around her. There was nothing out here but them, the wildlife, and if the rustling bushes in the far corner were to be believed a very large angry badger.
You alright petal? You look like you’re going to be sick.
Slipping his arm around her waist, he shoots one last critical stare around him before doing his best to lead her away from the church. This place always gave him the creeps. He didn’t like her coming here and certainly didn’t like her being here alone. He was on high alert, no doubt caused by his sister’s mood. They’d always had that sometimes irritating ability. They knew each other too well, and the fact that he’d had to physically steer her out of the field of death didn’t bode well. Lucan didn’t see that, but he sure as hell picked up on something. Planting kisses on her cheek, he buried his head in her neck, clinging to her. Sometimes being held made everything okay.
I think the press are stalking again……..There was the strangest old bloke asking questions in there.
You sure, Ev’s? I didn’t see anyone but you, and old people aren’t known for jumping into bushes…… Incidentally, if that bloody badger, fox thing starts tailing us, I’m tripping you and making a run for it.
Making light of the situation would have been his usual method of dealing with it, this however was just Will being freaked out by the British wildlife. The reaction the man had to a hedgehog was no better. Despite the uneasiness still lingering the young woman offered a small smile. Lucan had relaxed enough to be drifting off, a bad habit shouting back to the days where she would carry him around for hours, marvelling at this small part of Leon staring back at her.
Love you too, you oaf. I’m thinking…….Maybe I should take the stone down?
Rustling from the nearby trees causes the young man’s head to snap in the direction of the sound. His 4 x 4 was waiting to take them back to safety, and he knew Leon was already anxious. Snapping Eva out of this train of thought was best for everyone involved. She was lost somewhere, back in her mind. He could tell by the look in her eyes. The one she would smile about and dismiss when asked about.
Sure, if it’s drawing unsavoury types then why not? Let the ghosts rest….
A humourless smile met a hopeless look and made his stomach sink.
They aren’t resting, Will.
