Hiya! A quick second chapter, compared to how slow I usually am, but I've got so many ideas for this story I need to get them all down at once! Can I just say, to anyone who is reading this fic, to please drop me a review, even if just to be critical. I'd really appreciate it, becaue I do try to take on board what people say and it gives me more incentive, you know? Not that I'm being a diva or anything. Never ;)
Enough rambling? I think so. Onwards.
Donna xxx
Chapter Two - Not Right
Eve hadn't been aware that she was unconscious... but then she woke up. Confused, not really sure where she was or what had just happened, her eyes flickered open and she took in her surroundings. She was seated, just like she remembered, in the driver's seat of a Mini Cooper, a map on the floor to her left and the sound of ABBA's Waterloo filling her ears... only now, it appeared to be playing on the car radio, her iPod connector nowhere to be found.
Still a little dazed, Eve craned her neck to peer out of the windscreen, only to see that, just like before, she was parked in front of a roundabout. But, unlike before, there were no other cars surrounding her, no angry drivers screaming in her direction from all angles. Simply an empty road in front and behind her, and an overgrown roundabout that looked a lot more dilapidated than she remembered. But then, she decided, she had been under a great deal of pressure, and probably hadn't taken too much time to observe the area.
Eve struggled to think. She had been near the end of her journey, and there had been an extra roundabout... she hadn't known which exit to take, and so she had stopped... but what on earth had happened then? She had drifted off to sleep at the wheel, and the other drivers had merely ignored her and driven around her car? Even in her head, it sounded absolutely absurd.
But likewise, it as the only explanation she could come up with. And, seeing as she wasn't physically hurt, it looked like her only choice was to carry on her way. Slowly, deliberately, she set the Mini in gear and set off, noticing as she did so that the car was running a lot less smoothly than it had been before. There was most definitely something going on here.
And this was confirmed as Eve turned off the practically empty motorway, and got her first look at Manchester city centre. Not quite the glittery, polished skyscrapers she'd been expecting, no clean, well decorated streets and fancy shops - in fact, it was the complete opposite. The buildings looked, if anything, old, and each street was lined with a fair amount of litter. Small, sleazy looking shops were what greeted her as she drove through the town, glancing every so often down at her map to check she was in the right place.
But yes, she found to her dismay, this was definitely correct. Exactly as it said on the map, she was just pulling onto Alexandra Terrace now, and if she made a left she'd be through to her new street - according to her estate agent, the Crester Building was the only block of flats on the road, so she wouldn't miss it.
Eve maneuvered the little car (which was still being difficult) to the left, coming out on a wide, grey street with several houses at one end and a huge, looming building at the end closest to her. Glad that at least something was as it should be, she gratefully parked the Mini and stepped out of it, grabbing her bag from the passenger seat as she went. Initially, she was just pleased to be able to stretch her legs, and was too focused on shaking off the pins and needles to realize.
But as she crossed the road, she noticed that something was different. Looking down, she gave a violent jump as she realized that she wasn't holding her bag at all, but one completely different. Gone was her trendy shoulder bag, to be replaced by a sort of pale blue, oversized leather pouch, which she had no recollection of purchasing and looked like the sort of thing she usually stayed well away from.
But there was no time to focus on such things, for as she reached the wrought iron gates at the entrance to the building, she caught sight of the large sign above her, which read Crester's Textiles. This most certainly hadn't been in all the photographs her estate agent had shown her - was it some new, modern thing they were trying out, giving the block such an obscure name?
Anyway, whatever was going on with the sign, the fact still remained that the gate was locked. She walked slowly over to the small booth by the side, in which a middle aged man was sat, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Hiya," she said slowly, not really sure how to put this "Eve Atkinson, I'm s'posed to be moving into flat twenty?"
The man blinked, then, for some reason, let out a harsh laugh, "You what, love?"
"Flat twenty." she clarified, "I was wondering if all my furniture had arrived."
"Okaay." the man raised his eyebrows, "You think you're gonna live in the factory?"
"I don't..." she was beyond confused now, "This is the Crester building, right?"
"Crester's Textile Factory, correct." he said, sounding slightly annoyed now, "And blondie, I don't know what happens in Wales, but in Manchester, people don't often live in factories. Now, I'll thank you to talk some sense or stop wasting my time."
Eve was startled that he'd been so rude, and was beginning to get tired of this.
"I'm from Newcastle." she said dangerously, "And I don't know what the hell is going on here, but believe me, I am gonna find out. Because this is not. Funny."
She turned on her heel, and stalked back across the road to her car, reaching into her pocket as she did so. But that only led to a bigger shock, as she realized she was digging into the pocket of a knee-length skirt instead of jeans. Looking down, she saw that she now wore a pale blue blouse adorned with a large bow, and over that a dark blue waistcoat - both of these garments that she'd never seen before, let alone had in her wardrobe.
She closed her eyes, as though she could make this any less real. Just there, in the darkness, not seeing or living any of this nonsense. It was so peaceful, so blank... if she listened hard enough, she could hear the gentle beating of her heart - but it was getting louder, getting faster. Too fast, this wasn't right, none of this was right...
Her eyes shot open, and she let out a huge breath. Eve shook her head slightly to pull herself together, needing to focus once more on figuring this out. Rooting in her pocket, she finally pulled out the piece of paper on which she'd written all the details of her new home and job.
House: it read in her neat writing, Flat 20, Crester Building, 126 Queen Mary Road. Bugger. That was exactly where she was, and guess what? The building turned out to be a factory. Brilliant.
With a sigh, Eve turned back to her car, if only to avoid the strange looks she was still getting from the man at the entrance gate. But as she reached for the handle, a dark look came over her face. Because, on top of everything else, the car was different. As well, obviously, as the deserted roundabout, the nonexistent flat, the bag, the clothes, everything, she currently had her hand on the door of a model of Mini from at least thirty years ago.
"Alright!" she actually said out loud, "Are you finished?! 'Cos I'm done! And it was very amusing for you, I'm sure, but I have had bloody enough now!"
She wasn't sure exactly who she was yelling at, but all of this was too much for her. And because there were people giving her awfully strange looks, and the man was now craning his neck out of the window of the booth to stare at her, she merely threw him, all of them, a disgusted look and slid back into the front seat of the car.
She was dreaming. She had to be, there was no way this could be real. She closed her eyes, and whispered to herself: "Wake up, Eve. Wake. Up!" But, as she stopped speaking, she could still hear it, louder and clearer.
Evie! Eve, babes, please, you've got to wake up. Now this wasn't her, this was inside her head... Come on now, just open your eyes. Wake up! EVE!
With a huge gasp, she opened her eyes, unable to believe what she had just heard. Clutching the wheel, she continued to breathe heavily, feeling the tears stream down her cheeks. Okay, she had to focus. Find out what was going on. And the small piece of paper clutched in her hand was the key to working it out, being the only thing the same as before she'd woken up.
She smoothed it out in her hands, reading over the folds where she'd previously screwed it up in frustration. Underneath the incorrect flat details, it read:
Work: Central Manchester CID, Windsor Road. A Division, third floor, DCI Sam Tyler.
It looked like that was her only option. As she drove back through town, following her map, she tried to even out her breathing, get things in perspective, or she would never get this sorted out. It was a dream, just a dream, she was going to wake up any second...
But she didn't. And before she knew it, Eve was pulling up outside a large, official looking building. This was it. Keeping strong, she took one last deep, soothing breath, and stepped out of the car. There was a short flight of steps, and then she was at the entrance, outside which two men in uniform stood talking. This in itself made Eve feel slightly calmer - in a police station, there were rules, regulations. Constant organization, and official business, no improvising and no guesswork.
At least, that was how it had been back home. But as she walked past the PCs into the station, she heard a long, loud whistle from behind her. Her eyes wide, she spun around, to see the two men unashamedly looking her up and down.
"Alright, darlin'?" one of them called out, "You bein' taking in for questionin'?"
"An' if the Guv's a bit hard on ya," said the other, "You come to me afterwards. I'll make sure you're sorted out!"
Eve really didn't like the leering tone of their voices, but didn't quite know how to respond. Instead, she turned to the policewoman sat behind a desk, a pleading look on her face.
"OI!" the DC yelled to the men, "Shut your traps, you two, or I'll dock your pay an' tell your wives!" Eve blinked at the oddness of this threat, and the casual way the woman had used it. She turned to her now, an exasperated look on her face.
"Right then," she irritatedly asked Eve, "What can I do for ya? Witnessed somethin'? In for questionin'? Or just... payin' one of our officers a visit?"
"No, I..." Eve was still slightly overwhelmed, "I'm the new DC? Transferred over from Newcastle, I think your DCI'll be expecting me."
The woman behind the desk said nothing, just looked her up and down, a disbelieving expression on her face, before leaning forward to speak into a radio:
"Guv, it's Phyllis. Got a lass down here claimin' to be new, that sound about right?"
"Yep. One of Tyler's latest bright ideas." came the blunt response, "Go on, send 'er up."
The woman behind the desk raised her eyebrows in a disbelieving manner, but nonetheless she muttered, "Right you are." into the radio, and jerked a thumb to indicate the staircase behind her.
"CID's on the third floor." Phyllis said distastefully, "And watch yourself. Them lot'll 'ave a field day when they catch sight o' you."
Eve didn't quite understand what she meant, or how to respond to that, so instead she simply nodded politely at the woman, receiving an eye-roll in return. Honestly, what was wrong with these people?
So, figuring it was probably best to make a hasty retreat and get this over with, Eve said nothing more. Instead, she headed quickly for the stairs which would lead to her new job, her new life... and hopefully, an explanation as to what in the world could have possibly happened to her.
