The Whispers of The Sprite (The Whispers series #1) (12 page)

BOOK: The Whispers of The Sprite (The Whispers series #1)
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We decide to brave the Tube, jumping onto the first available train. I haven't been shopping for a while, whereas Gosia is always ahead of me with fashion trends. The familiar Sprite that followed me the other day appears on my left with another handsome, dark-haired fairy. I am trying to keep up with Gosia, who wants to enter every possible shop. The area that we end up in is somewhere in the north of London. The streets are hectic and I notice a lot more Sprites shadowing busy-looking people. Finally, it stops raining and we manage to get a few bargains.

 

‘I need coffee or maybe something stronger,’ says Gosia, winking at me.

 

I have to agree with her; shopping is exhausting. We are just about to walk into the coffee shop at the corner when I notice a familiar face on the other side of the street. It is the older lady from the restaurant that spoke to me on the stairs. She appears to be in a hurry and her silver hair is wet.

 

‘Ania, what are we waiting for?’ asks Gosia, looking annoyed.

 

‘Hold on, I know that woman across the street and I’ve got to ask her something.’ I start walking in her direction, trying not to lose her.

 

‘What woman?’ I hear Gosia say.

 

I know that I have to speak to the older woman and find out what she meant in the restaurant and why she had been following me. After I cross the street, she disappears around the corner and I begin walking faster. Gosia stops asking questions as she struggles to keep up with my fast pace. The woman is walking quite quickly and it takes an effort to keep up, but after almost twenty minutes of intensive walking Gosia stops me abruptly by holding my arm. I manage to spot the woman as she walks into one of the shops.

 

‘What the hell, Ania? I am not going anywhere until you explain what’s going on.’

 

‘I promise I will, but I need to get to that shop across the road,’ I say, giving Gosia an apologetic look.

 

She is not happy. When we cross the street, I finally realise that I have never been in this part of London. This area is definitely not populated by typical Londoners; instead I recognise a lot of people from Eastern Europe, and Romanian
travellers
. I lose sight of the woman and Gosia refuses to move any further. We are in the middle of an unknown street. I hesitate, wondering where I should go next.
 

 

‘We shouldn't be here and you have to explain to me why you are running after someone who you don’t know,’ says Gosia, looking around uncertainly.

 

I ignore her and look at the window of the shop in front of me; I can't see anything inside. Moreover, the sign on the door clearly says that the shop is closed. I bite my lip, hesitating for a long while.

 

I take a deep breath and say, ‘I’m going in.’

 

‘What? Where?’

 

I walk to the door of the shop, ignoring her, and push the door and my intuition is right: the door isn't locked.

 

Gosia doesn't say anything, but I can hear that her breathing quickens as we enter the small shop immersed in darkness. The windows are shaded with dark curtains and the whole place is cluttered. The wall to the right is filled with books and there are many mysterious-looking figures lying on the floor. It is definitely a real shop. The products that I can't name have price tags on them. I have to stop breathing for a moment because various aromas are irritating my nose.
 

 

‘What is wrong with you, Ania? The shop is closed,’ whispers Gosia, trying to push me back toward the street.

 

‘I just want to talk to her,’ I whisper back.

 

Then we hear movement in the back of the store and a short, dark-haired woman appears, staring at us with an angry expression on her face.

 

‘Excuse me,’ I begin, pressing my lips together nervously. ‘I am looking for a woman who came in here a few minutes ago.’
 

 

The woman walks closer, gazing from Gosia to me. She has dark brown eyes and long black hair; her skin is much darker than mine. She is wearing a long,
colourful
skirt and red top. I assume that she is a Romanian
traveller
, but I don't want to say anything right now. She doesn't look happy that we are inside.

 

‘Can’t you read the sign on the door?’ she snaps, coming closer to me. I don't move, but Gosia grabs my arm and begins squeezing it desperately. I smile even though she is showing me that I am not welcome.
 

 

‘Yes, I did. I’m sorry, a woman that I know came in here a few minutes ago,’ I continue, slowly losing confidence. Her dark eyes are
hypnotising
.

 

‘There isn't anyone here apart from me.’

 

‘Okay, I made a mistake. I’m sorry,’ I reply, defeated, and I am just about to move back and leave. My heart is beating like crazy and I realise I’m not sure that that what I saw actually happened.
 

 

‘I can read your fortune from the cards,’ she adds unexpectedly, and I freeze once again. Gosia is almost by the door. Her eyes are screaming 'no,' but I am curious; no one has ever offered me a tarot reading. I expect that it wouldn't cost me a significant amount of money. Anyway, I just barged into this woman’s shop knowing that it was closed.
   

 

‘Yes, why not?’ I say slowly.

 

‘Ania, I think we should go back,’ snaps Gosia, but I ignore her.

 

My mind is blank while I walk toward the back of the shop. Gosia follows as we get to a thick, dark curtain that separates the entrance from the other part of the shop.
 

 

‘Your friend has to stay here. You follow me.’

 

She shoots Gosia an odd look. I try to give my best friend an apologetic glance before vanishing under the curtain. Gosia looks stunned.
   

 

‘My name is Herne. Sit down so we can start the reading,’ she says, showing me a small chair in the corner.

 

In front of me, there is a table and another chair. I am feeling dizzy and nervous. I am not sure what to expect. Herne sits down opposite me. She lights a candle and closes her eyes, shuffling the cards. I swallow hard, trying to think positive thoughts and at the same time wondering why I agreed to do this.
 

 

‘The cards will reveal the truth about your worry.’

 

Herne continues to shuffle the cards. After a few more seconds, she places the cards on the table and begins turning them over one by one. My throat is dry and I am unable to speak. My heart hammers in my chest. Her wide, dark eyes narrow while she is staring at the cards.
 

 

‘What can you see?’ I ask, finally able to find my words.

 

‘Death is close,’ she says and lifts her eyes to look at me. ‘I can see her in the cards. You escaped, but she is watching and waiting for another opportunity.’

 

I am trying to
analyse
everything she is saying, but nothing makes much sense. ‘Who is watching?’

 

‘Death is still with you, but there is someone else that also wants your power. Someone that is bound to your desire wants to possess your power. You will be travelling very soon.’
 

 

I am confused. I am not sure what ‘power’ she means.

 

‘I don't understand,’ I say, feeling that I might have made a mistake coming here and agreeing to this reading.
 

 

‘The man that you love is weak. He is unable to decide if his feelings are real,’ she continues.

 

I freeze, knowing who she is talking about. I hold my breath, waiting to hear more.

 

‘The situation will change. You will lose what you value the most.’

 

‘So does he love me?’ I ask, hoping that she can tell me more about Gabriel.

 

‘He is torn between two souls. The feelings he has for you are new for him. He doesn't understand them,’ she says, touching my hand.

 

My eyes feel heavy and an unfamiliar pain spreads around my chest. My mind is not coping well with everything that she has said. I desperately want to leave. I feel like I am going to vomit.

 

‘I’m sorry, but I’ve got to go,’ I snap, getting up. She grabs my hand.

 

‘He is afraid of those feelings, but you will lose what you value the most. Remember this.’
 

 

She frees my hand and I leave the room with my heart thumping. Gosia is still waiting for me in the shop, looking at her watch. She looks angry when she notices me.

 

‘Ania, what's wrong?’

 

‘I need to get some fresh air,’ I say and we leave the shop as quickly as we came.

 

I am not sure what just happened with that woman. Once outside, I bend over and violently throw up. After few minutes, I take a deep breath, trying to keep my balance. Gosia is panicking while holding my hair.
   

 

‘What did she do to you?’ she keeps asking.

 

‘It's the smell in the shop,’ I explain, trying to convince myself that it was the smell that made me sick and not what Herne said about Gabriel and his feelings.

 
 

11

 
 
 
 
 

Gosia is silent and doesn't say anything until we get home late that afternoon. The part of London that we ended up in looked dangerous. I slowly begin to wonder if the mysterious woman was ever really there or if she was a figment of my imagination.
 

 

Fortunately for me, Mum isn't at home, so I don't have to explain why I am looking so pale and why my clothes are covered in vomit.

 

‘Right, what exactly is going on with you?’ asks Gosia when I come back from the bathroom. She is angry, I can sense it in her tone.

 

‘I felt dizzy when she lit the candle,’ I explain, but she knows that isn't the truth.

 

‘First, you run like crazy after some woman that you apparently know and then you decide to have a tarot reading that makes you sick. Who was she?’

 

‘I met her in the restaurant, I told you. I think she is Russian, so I just wanted to ask her something,’ I say, trying to convince her to believe me, but she isn't stupid enough to fall for this.

 

‘I don't understand any of this and I don't believe you.’

 

She
walks off, disappearing upstairs. She is right not to believe me. I have to sit down to enable myself to understand what just happened.
You will lose what you value the most.
Herne was right: Gabriel is confused about his feelings, but some of her predictions are wrong. I feel as if I have already lost him. She was right about him and that's what made me sick. The truth is that we haven't got a future together. The older woman who I followed could be an answer to it all. I have to think about this logically.

 

‘I’m ready to go back to my flat and my grumpy roommate,’ says Gosia, when I walk with her to my car.

 

I offer to drive her down to her place so she doesn't have to take a taxi. Somehow her anger has faded away. She has forgotten the incident that occurred earlier after I assure her that she doesn't have to worry about me. She finally stops asking me questions that I am unable to answer. We relax for the rest of the evening on my sofa and talk about our other close friends who are currently abroad. After arriving at her flat, I park the car and help her carry the presents that she got from me and Mum.

 

‘I’ll miss you. I will try to keep in touch more often,’ I say.

 

‘Please avoid trouble. I don’t know what's going on with you, but I hope you will tell me everything when you are ready.’

 

‘Don't worry about me. I expect you to visit me soon so I can give you the tour around Swansea,’ I say, trying to avoid the awkward subject that we have already gone through.

 

Gosia’s flat is near the station. She gives me one more hug and leaves, wishing me good luck – I am not sure why. Her Sprite stares at me for a long moment, wondering what is going on between us. While going back to my car I see a student from the party that landed Amy in the hospital. I hesitate for a moment. He is probably going back to Swansea. He’s looking impatient. I already tried talking to Amy about that night, but she seemed to have wiped all the memories out of her head so I gave up in the end. I decide to walk up to him and ask him a few questions.
 

 

‘Hey, do you remember me?’ I ask.

 

He looks uncertain at first, but after a few seconds his expression tells me that he does and he is not pleased about me being here.

 

‘Yes, you are a friend of Amy,’ he says with that strong French accent. He is much shorter than me with green eyes and mousy hair.
 

 

‘I have been meaning to ask about that party,’ I begin.

 

‘I need to get to the station quickly. I have no time to talk about that,’ he adds, avoiding looking at me.

 

‘So, have you been in France for Christmas? I never had a chance to find out your name,’ I ask, trying to change the subject.

 

‘Yes, I visited my family in Marseille,’ he says. ‘I am Pierre, by the way.’
 

 

‘I am Ania.’

 

I'm hesitating as to whether or not I should continue asking him about the subject that he doesn't want to talk about, but I am worried about Amy so I press on. ‘Listen, I need to know what really happened at that party. I know you saw it.’

 

He stares at me for a long while and his eyes narrow. ‘What difference does it make? The girl is all right,’ he says quickly.

 

I don't intend on giving up and decide I need to be firmer with him. ‘I remember what you told me at the party about a man that pushed Amy over and I know you didn’t mention it to the police – so do you want me to tell them that you gave a false statement?’ I say in a more serious tone.

 

He steps back, slightly staring at me with fear in his eyes. ‘Okay … okay, I will explain what happened that night,’ he mumbles, looking around nervously. ‘Just make sure you keep your mouth shut.’

 

I nod in agreement. ‘Just tell me and I will make sure that it stays between us.’

 

‘I was drunk, so I don’t remember much. We went into the garden to get a bit of privacy and we started kissing. Then we heard the noises in the back, so we went closer, but it was dark and we couldn't see anything. Then suddenly this man appeared from nowhere. I couldn’t see his face in the darkness, but I remember that he had long ginger hair. He pushed me and he went up to your friend and grabbed her shoulder. He pushed her over. She fell on her head. She was unconscious, so I don’t even know if she would remember him. He was swearing and he looked furious. I don't know what happened next because I think he knocked me out.’ He finishes, looking at me nervously.

 

I am confused, trying not to get distracted by the few Sprites that are staring at us. I don't recognise any of them. Pierre is silent for a long moment.

 

‘You say that he was shouting?’ I ask.

 

‘I don’t remember what he was shouting. He was swearing with a strong odd accent,’ he adds.

 

‘What kind of accent?’ I ask quickly.

 

‘Don’t know. Maybe Welsh. I really don't know.’

 

‘Thank you,’ I say, but he just nods.

 

When I finally get home it is after 6pm and Mum is back from her rendezvous with Dmitry. I think about my conversation with Pierre for a long time, but everything seems so unclear. I don't remember anything from my own attack on the beach and I am not sure if I even should connect it to the day from the party when Amy was found unconscious.

 

Mum looks even happier than yesterday; she keeps asking me if I like Dmitry, and I assure her that I am fine with her dating him. Besides, she doesn’t need my permission to date a man. Weeks apart made me realise that I do love Gabriel; I have fallen in love with a man that will never be mine. I never felt this way about George.

 

The next day, Mum has to go back to work. She wakes me up before 5 to say good-bye. I won't see her now until Easter, unless I decide to come to London before that. It’s the eleventh of January and after packing all my stuff I drive off, leaving my house once again. In my mind, I still have the happy memories of when I found out that I got accepted into university, but I never expected to feel this way six months after the news. With the three-hour drive ahead of me, I hope this time the Welsh weather would be better than English, but once again I am wrong. It is raining when I pass the 'Welcome to Wales' sign on the M4.
                                

 

The weather in Swansea depresses me even more. The rain is pouring from the sky and cold winds sweep through the gloomy Welsh day. I know that Amy will be back from her parents by now, as she had to come back early to study. As much as I have tried to study hard before Christmas, I am panicking with only a week before the first exam.

 

Someone calls my name as I get out of the car; Amy is waving from her window. Nothing has changed; the streets are still gloomy and quiet but I am glad to be back. Gabriel's replacement is outside on the street, staring at me. He has a large, white umbrella. I sigh, disappointed, knowing that this means Gabriel is still away.

 

‘Let me help you,’ offers Amy as I walk through the door.

 

She takes a few of my bags and I walk into the living room. I didn't expect to see the house spotless; the whole house smells so fresh and clean. Amy never used to clean before.

 

‘I’m not sure what’s happened here. Have you cleaned up?’ I ask, smiling.
 

 

‘I was bored,’ she says, hugging me. As usual, her face is covered with a large amount of foundation that is darker than her natural tone. ‘How are you? How was London?’

 

I sit down on the sofa and tell her briefly about the Russian Christmas.

 

‘London was freezing. I met my Mum’s new boyfriend Dmitry. He’s charming and I couldn’t wish for anyone more special for Mum.’

 

‘That's fantastic. I had an awesome time back home. I got tons of presents,’ she says. ‘I’ve been back here two days trying to revise, but I don’t think my brain can take anymore.’
 

 

‘I have to revise too; our first exam is next week.’
 

 

‘Yeah, I know, but you can start tomorrow. Let’s go out for a drink today. I’ll go crazy if I look at any more books,’ she says, rolling her eyes.
 

 

This sounds tempting after spending three hours in the car. I have to relax before I am going to study all week.
 

 

‘I absolutely agree with you,’ I say.

 

She claps and gets really excited, disappearing upstairs and shouting that she will be ready in an hour. I take all my bags upstairs and decide to lie down for a bit. I unlock the room and freeze by the door. Gabriel is back. My heart reacts instantly.

 

‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, trying to sound calm but my tone is too high.

 

Gabriel looks tired and his blue eyes follow me as I put my bags on the bed. His dark hair is longer and more tangled since the last time I saw him, but he is still perfect. I inhale, trying to restrain my flushes, but I can no longer hide that I love this man.
 

 

‘I’ve been travelling. I’m so happy to see you,’ he says in his naturally lower tone. My breathing quickens.
   

 

‘Are you going to tell me where you have been?’ I ask, forcing myself to look at him. He steps closer to me. He smells of rain and the familiar electric wave passes through my body as he comes near.

 

‘That doesn’t matter right now. I’ve missed you more than I have ever missed anyone before.’

 

He moves his body closer to mine, taking me into his arms and forcing me to look into his deep blue eyes. My knees soften, my heart melts and I am unable to push him away. He holds me for a long moment. He breathes harder as I try to inhale him. My subconscious is demanding that I control myself and I know that I need answers, so I push him away while my heart is crying to be closer.

 

‘It matters to me. You’ve been gone for weeks without any kind of explanation and now you're expecting me to welcome you back with open arms without any questions? Besides, you shouldn't even be talking to me right now; it's only just after 7pm.’
 

 

His dark blue eyes crinkle at the corners. I know that he wants to hold me and kiss me. The passion in his eyes is clear, and even though I feel the same and want to be lost in his arms, I have to know what’s been going on.
 

BOOK: The Whispers of The Sprite (The Whispers series #1)
7.55Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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