The Mind's Eye (28 page)
Authors: K.C. Finn
Tags: #young adult, #historical, #wwii, #historical romance, #ww2, #ya, #europe, #telepathic, #clean teen publishing, #kc finn
“
Who is it you work for then?” I pressed eagerly, “The
government?”
“Whoever needs me. At the moment that’s the War Office.”
“
Why didn’t you ever explain to me? You must have realised I
was getting these powers, surely?”
“
I was hoping you might stay in denial about them a bit
longer, actually,” Mum admitted, reaching out to take my hand, “I
assume you’ve been poking around in Norway, what with Henri and
all. You’re much more advanced that I would have
expected.”
“
Am I?” I found myself smiling at that. “Well I’ve been
working on it very hard, and Idrys had helped.”
fell. “How many people know about this all together?”
“
Three,” I replied.
“
Darling you must keep it that way.” She squeezed my hand
again before taking it back to tap her own knees impatiently. “This
war, this situation… It isn’t a good time to do what you can
do.”
“
But Idrys knew Granddad Arkwright!” I protested. “He helped
in the first war, you’re helping in this one, and-”
“
And nothing,” Mum interrupted, her young face suddenly
stricter than usual, “Your time to help will come when you’re
older, I’m sure, but not now.”
arms at her. “You can’t stop me,” I said plainly, “It’s my
power.”
My mother’s
slim shoulders drooped and she shook her head just the once. “No, I
can’t stop you,” she conceded, “All I can do is ask that you be
sensible.”
She let out a
long, low sigh, reclining on the sofa, pulling away from me.
Leighton stirred a little, huffing out a short breath. She started
to stroke his hair.
“
I’m afraid of the things you might see, Kit.” She spoke
quietly, like every word might explode if its volume was too high.
“This Henri of yours has been trained, but he doesn’t know what’s
really out there, the horrors he’s going to have to face. You
shouldn’t be facing them with him; you should be here where I put
you, where it’s safe.”
that Henri and Bickerstaff had both told me about the prospect of
what was out there too. I hadn’t listened to either of them and
this third warning felt like a record on repeat.
“
But I can help Henri,” I protested, “I helped him before,
when he was still in Norway!”
“
This is going to be very different,” Mum said with a grave,
pale face, “If you do it, there won’t be any going back. You can’t
un-see the places that your mind might take you to. You won’t ever
forget. I know I haven’t.”
older than the last time I had seen her when she waved us off at
the station more than a year ago. She was still my prim and proper
mother with her careful balance of compassion and caution, but as
she looked down at Leighton curled up beside her there was
something so exposed in her face. Raw emotion had bubbled up into
her eyes, striking every nerve, setting her up like a rubber band
stretched to its limit.
“
I understand what you’re saying,” I began cautiously, though
in truth I really didn’t. How did she know that I couldn’t handle
the sight of the war? How did any of them know what I could manage
unless they let me try it? “But I can’t turn my back on this now.
There are people here depending on me.”
“
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
say it in a nasty way; it was more like she just had to get the
words out. Leighton uncurled himself from his cat-like position
near us, rubbing his eyes.
“
Oh no,” he mumbled, “sorry Mum, I just-”
“
It’s all right darling,” she soothed, stroking his hair again
as he sat up and shuffled closer, “I’ve missed watching you
sleep.”
conversation was over and I hadn’t even reached the part about Dad.
Every time I looked at Mum that evening I felt something different,
sometimes anger, sometimes fear. Pity, loss, duty, guilt, I could
hardly process the gambit of emotions running amok inside my head.
I tried my best to push them all away, to just appreciate my mother
for the few hours we had before she was due to set off on the
midnight train back to London, but I was still riled that she had
kept so much from me. She was still keeping things from me and
worse she was telling me not to go looking for the answers myself
either.
By the time
she had gone that night I knew what I wanted to do. It was the
ultimate betrayal, I was sure, but it was time to stop letting
other people dictate my actions. I was going to do it. I was going
to find my father.
attempt to find Dad resulted in blackness, but if experience had
taught me anything it was that black didn’t ever seem to mean dead.
Everything was still; I was in that conundrum where I couldn’t work
out if my heart was beating or his, if those were my limbs
twitching, my lungs expanding slowly. He might have been asleep. I
didn’t dare call out to wake him up, deciding instead that I would
just keep coming back until he was awake. The next morning I
thought about trying him straight away but my energy felt low.
Saving my strength was the best move, especially since I needed to
be in Libya after breakfast.
Blod came to
sit with me in the little sitting room whilst I made the journey,
desperate to ensure that we would not be disturbed. She was visibly
uncomfortable with having to watch me travel, but she did her best
to sit still and not fidget. It took me longer than usual to calm
myself down, every time I closed my eyes all I could think of was
how constantly I was disobeying my mother. My own guilt made me
angrier than her so-called advice; I wished desperately that I was
confident enough to believe that I was doing the right thing by
stepping back into the war.
Africa was a
beautiful place. I got to Henri at the same time for three days
running when he was on patrol, looking out to the empty, sandy
horizon. Though I couldn’t feel the heat that rose in waves from
the golden desert dunes, I felt the sweat pooling at the back of
Henri’s neck, his dusky fatigues sticking to his aching body.
Training had been hard on him, but the journey had apparently been
even worse.
How are your bruises?
I asked when
Henri had walked to the farthest part of his patrol route. He had
to time his replies for the moments when no-one else was in
earshot; turning his face away from the base so no-one saw his lips
move.
“
I’m learning to load this huge gun,” he murmured, “Every time
I load a shell it falls back on me. Damn heavy things, my arm is
black.”
the Germans?
Henri shook
his head. “We’re not looking for Germans. It’s the Italians that
are fighting out here, but of course they’re all still the
enemy.”
I bit my lip.
Is that better or
worse than facing the Nazis?
chest deflate. “I suppose when they’re pointing a tank at you it’s
all the same.”
You sound
like-
“
Bickerstaff, I know,” he intercepted sadly, “Unfortunately
the man makes a lot of sense to me now.” Henri gripped his rifle
tightly, scanning the bare sands around him once more. “When you
hear the gunfire at night, it’s hard not to think about the fact
that you’ll be out there in it soon enough.”
Where is Bickerstaff?
I pressed,
trying to steer away from the growing fear in Henri’s
ribcage.
Blod wants to know how he’s
doing.
“
He’s out today with a special group,” Henri said, licking his
chapped lips in the unbearable heat, “They’re scouting to find out
how close the Iti’s are. I’m supposed to watch for them returning.
I’ll have to go back to the other side now.”
meant he couldn’t talk for a while, but he was so sad, so lonely,
that I couldn’t bear to break the link.
I’ll stay and keep you company
, I
offered. He nodded and set off back towards the other
soldiers.
patrolling a section of wire fence that led down to a pair of huge
iron gates where trucks and cars pulled into the base day in, day
out. There were other guards who were permanently stationed at the
gates, ready to open them at the sign of an allied group, but also
sporting rifles to tackle any hint of a threat. The base itself was
all done out in stone, like the British Army had overtaken some
great Libyan mansion and filled it with their troops. Henri and his
brothers in arms blended seamlessly with the sandy stones and dusky
ground, their brown uniforms were already caked with squashed fly
stains and tiny drops of blood that seeped out of their mosquito
bites. I felt the serious set jaw on Henri’s face as he reached the
gate and nodded to the other guards, I ached to be able to take
that jaw in my hands and kiss out his tension.
I love you,
you know.
The thought
had escaped before I had a chance to rein it in. Henri caught his
breath in his throat; the sombre weight in his chest lifting away
like a pressure valve had been removed. He couldn’t reply,
certainly not with the two gate guards standing right next to him,
but I felt his face relax into a smile. His nerves danced in his
arms and shoulder, racing back and forth to his heart as he let out
a few breaths. Then, very slowly, he put his hand up to his mouth
and kissed his own palm silently.
I knew what
it meant.
I was all the
more eager to stay until he’d be able to talk again; I’d been
waiting about ten minutes for him to shift position when a speck in
the dunes caught my eye.
Henri there,
I directed,
coming over that big hill in the middle. What is
it?
the sight a few seconds after me, his eyes focusing hard on the
dark dot as it charged toward the base. He spoke to the other
guards as they all raised their guns, eyeing the approaching
threat. The sight of a uniform the same colour as their own meant
nothing, they kept their rifles trained and the gates firmly locked
until the blurry brown shape was in better view.
One man was
carrying another across his shoulders, trudging through deep sand
with staggered strides, his head down as he raced on towards where
we were watching. The man being carried was in better view; his
sandy uniform was coated in blood. I wanted to be sick, but there
was no way I could look away. Pain and nausea ripped through my
chest as the men came closer and closer, but I stared on,
transfixed by the sight. His face was cut, his trousers ripped, his
jacket sliced open right across the chest where a mighty gash oozed
with red liquid. I had never known that blood could be so
thick.
Once the
guards had realised that the soldiers approaching were indeed their
allies, the gates flew open and more men were alerted to rush out
and help the injured fellow. They rushed him past where Henri stood
watching then they burst out of the gates and raced towards the man
who had been carrying him, who collapsed into the sand the moment
his charge had been lifted. Henri found him and flipped him onto
his back as the fellow heaved. He knelt back, aghast as I too
reeled in shock at the sight of him.
“
Bickerstaff!”
“
Good morning,” he choked, spitting out a mouthful of blood
and sand beside him.
doctor had a huge laceration running down the left side of his
face, now caked with bits of sand and dirt that were soaking up the
deep red ooze all around the wound. His chest hammered visibly
until he had caught his breath, I noticed the fearful tears
streaming from his eyes. Eventually he sat up, thumping his torso
to cough any sign of weakness from his voice.
“
We were set upon,” he breathed, “They killed Carter, took
Briggs away. Cooper was the only one I could help.”
him on the shoulder, his head flooded with pride, relief and an
overwhelming sense of terror.
“
Let’s get your face stitched up.”
arm around Bickerstaff’s middle and hauled the other man up as fast
as he could. I felt the sticky, sickly touch of the doctor’s
bleeding face as it grazed Henri’s ear. I didn’t know which one of
us felt sicker at the sensation. Either way it was becoming too
much, despite my desperation to stay, that old cold shiver in my
spine told me it was time to go. In truth a big part of me was glad
it had come, though I felt so selfish, just melting away to safety
whilst Henri had to go on alone.
***
Blod was
hysterical over Bickerstaff’s injury; she kept making me describe
it until I felt unbearably queasy again, so much so that I actually
hobbled off to the kitchen for fear I’d have to throw up in the
sink. These were the things Mum had warned me of, the things that I
couldn’t un-see. I was scared, trembling all over, but it wouldn’t
stop me going back there at the same time tomorrow, nothing would
stop me from letting Henri know I was always there for him. He was
growing more fearful every day of what fate had in store for him.
But fate had brought us together once, so I was willing to trust it
to do the right thing and I needed him to feel that way too.
