It took mere seconds for the smile to slide from her face and vanish from view entirely as she slumped down onto the bed. She had secured another knot alongside the growing tangle of her worries. This particular knot sat ominously complex and no immediate route to untangle it presented itself. To her left she could hear the creak of Bryn’s door as he returned to his room. From the right she could hear the shuffle of Mat’s movements in the room of his own. She had no way of escaping either of their company. Not entirely. She was forced into this confinement with both of them on either side; caging her in. A flush of horrified shame swept over as she considered the possibility that, if he listened close enough, it was plausible that Mat could have overheard every word of her conversation with Bryn.
Tears bundled behind her eyes as she considered the depths of her mistake. She couldn’t have both of them. A decision would have to be made. And the longer she waited to cast aside one the harder it was going to hit them. It had never been her intention to become some fluttering fool that struggled to make even the simplest of choices. It had never been her intention to drag other people into the chaos of her mind. But she had fallen into a rut on both accounts.
Bryn. Mat. Even Wren. The thought captured the breath in her throat and instilled a heave of twisting nausea. She still could not forget that her hand had dealt the card that resulted in the accident. It stained her record with a festering mark of blackening guilt and blame. She could feel it beneath every layer of her skin and lining the throat to steal her breaths. In a panic driven and clumsy trembles she unlatched her window and took in greedy gulps of the air outside to settle herself.
This problem was her own doing. She couldn’t blame it on the Government, or anyone else. This had been a path carved by herself alone and the fault weighed heavily on her shoulders unsupported by any other source of blame. The air of the room seemed to possess a growing stuffiness to the taste; permeated by the guilt of her actions. Freya found herself leaning further and further out the window to access the refreshment of the untainted air outside. And it began to seem like her responsibilities didn’t exist outside the cottage.
The thought was of course ridiculous. There was no such thing as barriers on blame and responsibility. But that didn’t seem to matter much. Fact had been buried under a weighty cover of cluttered alarm. And when her eyes caught the lattice structure supporting the trail of ivy up the walls her decision had been made without pause for common sense. Freya’s mind fixated onto that expanse of open space she had been led to that morning and the freedom it had flared within her. The thought of it provoked the itching and drowning desperation to get out. It rose to a level that she was unable to suppress.
She gripped the wooden lattice and gave it a shake. The structure seemed to possess enough strength to support her weight. It was a risk she was willing to take. Very carefully she hoisted herself out the window and settled her feet and hands into holds. The lattice creaked under the weight, but seemed to show no other signs of weakness. Without losing her nerve Freya navigated a path to the ground and did not pause until her feet rested firmly on the grass. Fear at the prospect of being caught fluttered somewhere in the back of her thoughts. Determination was the driving force of her emotion and nothing seemed to matter much behind that.
Her ad-hoc plan had worked. As she pushed aside the garden gate the foundations of her problems seemed to topple. Her breaths fell easier. Her mind seemed clearer. Problems receded into trivialities. She could have walked until horizon met the ground without a care for practicalities. If she got far enough she could shrug off her identity, find another ghost village to haunt and remain there until she had the peace of mind to strike out a better plan. The thought was blurred and she didn’t have the energy to twist things into focus. It only mattered that ambling without aim seemed to make things better.
She couldn’t take the route that passed the church without walking straight through Andie’s watch. Instead Freya decided to walk outside the perimeters of the village and reconnect with the lane after looping around the outskirts. With gentle steps she travelled down the road that had first welcomed her in. Her eyes flitted leisurely over the scenery. A practice she had been denied through the panic daze she had first arrived in. Eventually Freya found herself inexplicably pausing to gaze into a familiar window. The same one she had previously spotted an Anomaly in.
The girl was still there. Gazing out into the outside; her eyes already tracing Freya’s progression across the road. They watched each other with a questioning glance; each scrutinising the other. She was possibly older than Freya due to her height and the elegant maturity of her features. Eventually the girl broke the staring contest by raising her hand and beckoning Freya closer. The click of the window unlatching introduced the prospect of a conversation between them.
“Where are you off to?” The girl spoke in the exhalation of an amused chuckle as her expressions suddenly broke into a grin. She lacked any indication of nerves or pent up frustration in her tone. Just amused and curious affability. The light-heartedness sounded distinctly alien to Freya. She had grown accustomed to being surrounded in suffocating grief.
“Don’t know.” Freya couldn’t find a source of optimism to match and so her tone fell in abruptness. She followed her dull response with a sharp question. “Do you know what is going on here?” The girl didn’t seem too put off by Freya’s bluntness. The pleasant surprise of company seemed to be enough.
“Not in the slightest. They keep telling me we are waiting for something. When that something happens Glitch can press on with their plans.” Her tone dropped slightly in animation to accommodate a more serious conversation topic. However, it remained distinctly welcoming and friendly.
“So you’re part of Glitch?”
“Apparently. Despite the fact I have no idea about anything.”
“That sounds familiar,” Freya muttered with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. It prompted an exhale of amusement from the girl as the hints of a smile pooled into the corners of her mouth.
“How long have you been an Anomaly?” she asked.
“Not long at all. You?”
“A year.” That explained the calmed control she seemed to have over her emotions. It made Freya sound all the more sullen in comparison.
“Don’t you find all this strange? That we’re not allowed out, not allowed to speak to each other, not allowed to know what is going on?”
“It drives me up the wall,” the girl replied with a droop of her shoulders to better showcase her annoyance.
“Same.”
“But I listen to them.” The girl’s tone snapped into something immediately more meaningful as the smile fluttered into the background in replace of a slight frown in her expressions.
“Why?” Freya asked.
“Who else do we have to trust? The Government? I think I’m better of here. Even if it is a bit unclear.” She had a point. And it put an immediate stop to Freya’s questions. The girl jolted back into her initial affability as she filled the silence with words wrapped in bubbling entertainment. “As brave as your escape is, I would head back if I were you. They won’t be too pleased to find you wandering about. And it is not really worth the effort of a lecture, is it?”
“Fair point.” Freya finally returned a smile. She nodded her head as a sign of appreciation for the conversation before retreating back down the path.
“Wait! I’m Alexa. Alexa Stalacre.”
“Freya Elton.”
“Well if they ever end this isolation I’ll keep an eye out for you.”
“Same.” With a final shared smile Alexa sealed the window shut.
Freya quickly abandoned the retreat out of town and set out back to the cottage. But her escape had been careless. The brazen attempt to clamber down the lattice had attracted attention. She didn’t get far at all until a hand closed around her arm and began to haul her in the direction of the stone church. She had guessed it was Andie before turning to verify the thought. The sight of Andie’s eyes narrowed in displeasure finally cast light on just how ridiculous her escape attempt had been.
“I only wanted to…” Freya attempted to explain as she half-heartedly wriggled from the grip to no avail.
“We’ll discuss it inside,” Andie snapped. Her attentions were solely fixed on the church and barely had the time to deviate into explanation. They beat a hurried path towards the ancient building. Frantic glances had somehow made Freya more attentive. She managed to snatch the glimpse of a previously unnoticed plaque buried into the wall. It declared a date.
1868
Freya presumed it to be the date the church was built. Two hundred and twenty six years ago. The realisation at just how old it was prompted Freya to consider it more carefully. It hadn’t quite struck her attentions how ominous the building was. A strange combination between ageing stone and yet unquestionably strong design. And then the scattering of rounded stone around the outside. To calm her thoughts in order to face a confrontation with Andie, Freya began to read the stones. At first the etched names presented little meaning to their purpose. Then she began to note the collection of phrases.
Beloved Father. In loving memory. Sorely missed.
The stones were placed to mark the dead. Some of the dates even outdated the year given for completion. Freya figured that some form of structure had stood on the spot for centuries beyond her comprehension. It became clear why churches were no longer allowed in Government approved settlements. It would be an admission that some other form of power had maintained a grip before the Government. A power that had such authority people laid their dead to rest beside it. If the church could find its power redundant then surely the Government could meet a similar fate.
Then there was that word Andie had used to describe its purpose. Belief. Something the Government had never owned. Not truly. Freya wondered if she had been the first to have been forcibly dragged into the premises. Perhaps there had been a time when people were able to willingly assign their belief to options of their own choosing. For a moment Freya allowed herself to believe that it could be that way again.
Andie swiftly unlocked the heavy wooden door and permitted Freya a glance into what the old building contained. It was immediately clear that the original purpose of the building had been robbed away. The main room held a number of desks with sheets of paper scattered over each of them. They were too far away and too hastily scrawled to be able to read the content of the pages. And Freya’s curiosity was not given the chance to sate itself as her glances were cut short after being led to a smaller off-shoot of the building.
This room was extremely small and only held two chairs and a battered looking lamp to illuminate the windowless predicament. It was little more than a closet. Andie placed a hand on a chair and briefly dragged it back indicating that Freya was to take a seat. It didn’t seem an option to argue and so Freya wordlessly settled down. Andie took a place in the remaining chair and fixed her gaze onto Freya. It was unbearable to feel the unbroken intensity of the stare. Especially in the silence that fell around them.
It seemed to take Andie a good few moments to settle her anger. Eventually her thundering breaths reached a normal pace and she began to speak.
“You cannot just wander off. I can’t have you breaking all the rules on foolish whims.”
“I felt trapped,” Freya’s reply was muted in a petulant hush. She could her expression darkening to match the resentment of her tone.
“It doesn’t matter. Too much time has passed for you to continue to act the victim. This is your life now and you need to cope with it.” Andie’s tone possessed no sign of relent and pressed forward with determined authority. Freya was forced to press a strength beyond sulking into her response.
“I know that.”
“You haven’t made any amendments to your behaviour to suggest that.” Arguing back did not break the insistence of Andie’s reprimand and therefore Freya quickly changed tack to a quieter, grovelling manner.
“I know I keep fucking up it’s just that…” The change in her tone seemed to provide a small respite as Andie’s next words were a question. At least crediting Freya with the chance to speak, although the question was not exactly what she wanted to be asked.
“What particular mistake prompted your escape?”
“What has that got to do with you?”
“It has everything to do with me when I am the one to haul you back into line.” Andie met Freya’s gaze with a furious stare. It was obvious that this was a fight Freya was to lose. And remembering Alexa’s words there was no point struggling against Andie or Glitch. There was no one else to turn to. She released a sigh before relenting and stepping back from the argument.
“Alright, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run. I’ll go back to the cottage. No harm done.” To save a shred of dignity Freya got to her feet in an attempt to make a quick retreat back into her confinement. Sulking in private seemed to be the preferable option when placed against the prospect of enduring any more of the reprimand. But Andie’s hand tugging at her sleeve quickly made clear that there wasn’t a choice involved.
“Freya, sit down.”
“What?” Now losing her temper she had no control over the tone and so the resenting petulance had returned.
“You have to make a choice...”
“I’ve said I’m sorry…” Freya continued; not paying any attention to Andie’s words as her anger tumbled outwards.
“…between Mat and Bryn.” Those words Freya could not ignore. They hit her nearly with a physical force as her attention snapped back into place. For a moment her tongue could not scrabble the words together quick enough as she stared motionlessly back at Andie. Finally she spat out a question; dripping with outrage.
“Have you been following me?”
“It doesn’t take espionage to detect that both those boys are securely wrapped around your little finger. Mat isn’t as obvious with his show of affections but I know him well enough to know its there. And Bryn makes no attempt to hide the way he feels about you. They are both hanging from your puppet strings…”
“It’s not like that. I didn’t set out to maliciously manipulate them. I just…” Her mind could not process the anger and churn out responses quick enough. Instead she tripped and stumbled as Andie remained perfectly calm.
“So then there must be some feeling on your part…”
“Excuse me?”
“If you are entertaining their advances for reasons other than manipulation then there must be some return of affection.”
“Why are we having this conversation?”
“But you can’t love both of them.” Andie ignored her attempts to change the topic. She had no cause to accept Freya’s intentions to shy away from the subject. Not when she was evidently winning the discussion.
“Why not? Maybe I do.” Freya’s response was coloured with tears of frustration and panic.
“Freya, don’t be ridiculous. So which one is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not an option. It’s one or the other. And you can huff and sulk and paint me out to be the villain in this. But you know that I am helping. This is a choice you have to make and if someone didn’t shake you into action you would have done nothing. So pick one.”
She could not deny the truth in Andie’s words. A decision had to be made. She had already admitted it to herself earlier. It wasn’t fair to harbour anger at Andie for hurrying the inevitable outcome.
She focused on the stone wall and pressed a hand to feel the cold seep into her touch. The disorderly magnetism surrounding Mat was incomparable to the steady control of Bryn. They were too different to find one obviously preferable to the other. Her mind struggled to find some footing in reality to anchor her choice. All she found was a comparison to the heroine in one of her books. A quote stuck in her mind and played on repeat.
Nelly I am Heathcliff.
Somehow that collection of words cast light onto the chaos. She and Mat were the same. Whatever it was that fuelled the source of her maddening confusion, also fuelled Mat. He understood without explanation. Of course he lacked dependability and patience and calm. But Freya was also lacking in many virtues. And this wasn’t a case of picking the better person. It wasn’t a choice at all. Mat was a part of her and that was a connection that could not be severed.
“I am Mat.” The shaking words possessed no explanation. It made perfect sense to Freya. That was what mattered.
“So you’re in love with Mat?” Andie said, as she pressed for an answer.
“Maybe.”
“Love isn’t a vague possibility. You either love him or you don’t.” Freya closed her eyes for a moment in consideration of Andie’s words. She could only offer one answer. After a sigh to delay the inevitable she admitted the truth.
“I love Mat.”
“You can go back to the cottage now.” And with that the conversation was concluded.