Chapter Four

Passing Time

It had been a week since Rachel's death, and yet, it seemed like it had only been yesterday. The streets were darker, quieter. Nobody else had died which I was grateful for, yet I wished that the last person hadn't been Rachel. I looked to the right, to the machine that had once been Rachel's; a new girl was working there now. Maria, I think her name was, or was it Mary? It didn't matter; I did not plan on engaging conversation.
I had barley even glanced at the girl, until now. She was new in town, living with her brother I believe, many found it odd that she was unmarried as, even I had to admit, she was very pretty, exceptional beautiful I suppose. Her skin was a pale ivory and seemed to glow in the light, her hair, pinned as tightly as mine, was a dark brown with streaks of red through it that would be difficult to see if I wasn't staring so intently. Even though her hair was bound tight, her face did not look as surprised as mine did constantly, she was expressionless, yet her mouth was slightly turned up as though she was laughing at a private joke. Her eyes flickered to my face and there was a little hostility in them, they burned. She knew I'd been staring at her. I instantly dropped my gaze to my machine and with shaking hands sorted a few threads. The way her eyes met mine, it was as though I'd called her name across the vast room.

Lunch came and I still couldn't shake the feeling that Ivory-Skin knew I'd been staring at her. I gazed out at the downpour and nibbled slightly on my apple.
'Hello.' A soft voice said. Startled I dropped my apple on the floor. Great, there goes my lunch. I watched it as it rolled into the mud and was swallowed by the downpour. I sighed and glared up at my visitor. It was Ivory-Skin. I disliked her even more now.

'You owe me an apple,' I said harshly. She looked somewhat hurt and perplexed, good.

'I'm sorry,' she murmured, she played with a thin gold chain around her neck. When she did that she reminded me so much of Rachel that I couldn't help but smile and instantly forgive her.

'It doesn't matter, I over-reacted, and I'm sorry, hello.'

She smiled slightly, 'Hello, I'm Ysandre.'

Ysandre, well I had been awfully wrong, how does Ysandre even sound remotely like Maria or Mary? Maybe I really had lost my hearing working with the machines.
'My name is Ana,' I said and extended my hand to her, we shook and I almost gasped at how chilled her fingers felt, but I quickly dismissed it as it was a cold day and my body temperature had dropped when I began working in the mill and had stayed at a toasty ten degree's ever since, or it felt that way. I gestured for her to sit beside me and she did. We sat in silence for a while.
'So, I noticed you staring at me earlier,' she nonchalantly, she continued to stare out at the rain, yet her face had hardened slightly.
'Oh, that,' I felt my nose turn pink, 'Well, you see, I lost a close friend of mine a week ago, Rachel was her name, and she worked on your machine.'
She turned to face me and her face was filled with pity, I hated pity.
'Oh, I understand' she said, the corner of her mouth twitched slightly, 'I lost someone a few year ago. My husband.'

'I'm sorry.' I whispered. She turned to me with a broad grin on her face.

'I'm not,' she spat, 'I hated every minute I spent with him, I'm glad he's in Hell, where he belongs.'

I just gazed at her, speechless. As she smiled at me I noticed her eyes were full of shadows, ones I could not easily read, and I was very good at reading people. I dropped my gaze and fiddled with the hem of my apron, Ysandre, had a past, a dark and foreboding past. I needed to create small-talk: small- talk was good, carefree… and secrets remain kept.

'It's raining,' I said gesturing. 'It rains a lot here, how long did you say you planned to stay in Flockford?'

'I didn't say,' she said harshly, 'if you'll excuse me.' She rose and left without a backward glance. I felt a chill wash over me and shuddered a little. That woman, Ysandre, there was something about her…something I didn't like. She had a presence, most definitely, but it was dark…almost, dare I say it, evil.

Work was finally finished and I was heading home, at night. I knew myself that it wasn't the wisest thing I should have done, yet, I only lived a few streets away. The streets smelt even worse than usual, smelt of decay and something undetectable, I hastened a little and was a street from my doorstep when I heard the shuffling of feet. I turned and was abruptly confronted with Peter Phillips. I exhaled slowly.

'Good evening, sir.' I said respectfully. He acknowledge with a small inclination of the head.

'Miss Locket.'

We both stood, staring at one another. It was a matter of propriety for a man to engage in conversation first. But I don't have much propriety.

'How are you, sir?' I asked timidly.

'Not well, Miss Locket, not well at all.'

Now that he mentioned it, he didn't look well at all. His face was pale, paler than mine. And his eyes were encased in shadows and lines. His usually pressed clothes were wrinkled and stained: and his hair was no longer combed but wild. He frightened me, I took a small step back and his eyes flashed when they saw this, my foot froze slightly before I placed my full body weight upon it and stepped back further. As I did he moved closer, mimicking my every action.

'What on earth is the matter, Mr Phillips? You don't look at all well.' My voice shook slightly and I detested myself for it. He merely chuckled and moved closer. I could now see every freckle on his face, the lines around his eyes, the faint whiskers beginning to grow-

Then he was gone. In the moment it had taken me to blink he had vanished into the shadows. The resemblance between his and Lester Price's movements made me shiver. I realised that it was late, and not wise to be out. I turned and almost ran the street. As I turned the corner I froze in shock. Ysandre was waiting on my doorstep. Her head down and rocking gently on her heels.

'Ysandre?' I called.

She looked up and smiling, waved at me. I made my way over and stood beside her, confused.

'I am sorry how I re-acted today.' She began, 'I was rude and it was uncalled for, I hope you can accept my forgiveness and we can be acquaintances.'

'Of course I shall forgive you, we are neighbours,' I said smiling slightly, 'now, how about a nice cup of tea to warm you?'

'I don't drink tea,' she replied.

'Oh,' I said, a little put-out I'll admit, 'well I will find something for you.'

'I am sure you will,' she replied.

I didn't see the manic grin upon her face. Nor the way her teeth elongated and became fangs. I merely saw the mask, and I allowed it into my home.