The afternoon wasted away into evening. The sky never changed from an oppressive grey as the hours faded from the day. There was no hint of a sun behind the thick clouds that sat on the land around Daphne's estate. It was a strange day. The rain that fell drifted down toward the slick ground aimlessly, delicate and almost weightless. It was soft, barely visible, but it thoroughly drowned the world beneath it. The buildings, the trees, even the hills emerged from the mist, barely appearing solid in this new world. Everything seemed grey and murky, but Charlotte took solace from the softness of the rain that fell, encasing the land in a protective blanket of vagueness.
She wandered along the corridors of Daphne's house strangely captivated by the unusual rain that fell outside the windows. At least it seemed unusual to her, her previous experience of rain was that it fell straight in heavy sheets, or it was blown in by a heavy gale, hitting you sideways with a nasty sting. The others seemed nonplussed by this ethereal rain in any case, only grumbling or complaining about its oppression. Charlotte sighed, tearing her eyes from the windows, hurrying through the house, a strange determination consuming her as she refocused her attention on finding Harris.
It had been the final straw when she had seen Matt's level of exhaustion that morning, his eyes bruised, his face drawn. He could barely hold a conversation, and his temper had become unbearably short, though he was never short with her. His grandmother tended to get the worst end of it, and sometimes Freddie, though both seemed well capable of dealing with it.
Everything had become so much easier as Charlotte had come to terms with where she was and that she was going to return to Kingston. She knew in her heart she could never truly rest, never truly be free as long as the others were still there. The ability to sleep soundly had returned to her, though dreams and nightmares alike continued to visit her at times, only now on wakening she was far more capable of dealing with them and allowing herself drift back into oblivion. She felt stronger too. A strange calm had settled upon her, but knowing herself she doubted it would last that long. Charlotte never really associated herself with being calm. In any case as long as Matt continued to unravel before her eyes calm would soon become a distant memory.
Shaking her head she dismissed her worries as she found herself outside Freddie's bedroom, staring at the door, unsure of how willing Harris would be to help her. Hesitantly, she knocked on the door, listening for some sign of life. She thought perhaps she caught a half muttered welcome, so she pushed the door open with a gentle hand.
This bedroom was in deep shadow, the curtains drawn against the misting rain. Freddie's room was huge, with high ceilings and overcrowded with random furniture just like the rest of the house. On the walls, signs of his youth could still be seen. Posters and mementos were arranged haphazardly among the old oil paintings, covering the faded, patterned wallpaper. Sporting trophies and rosettes were gathered together on the shelves, shoved mercilessly amongst books, all worn by time and one too many reads. His past entertainment and his new, Charlotte thought as she took note of both his sporting achievements and the more recent sedentary entertainment he had grown to know. Freddie wasn't the tidiest, with clothes flung over the backs of the chairs and shoes discarded carelessly in the most inconvenient of places. The air that enveloped the room was much more humid than the other parts of the house and it was heavy with the smell of a sweet smoke, urging Charlotte to sneeze.
"Harris?" Charlotte breathed, supressing her nasal irritation, fearful she might disturb him amidst something important. At her call he appeared through another door, drying his hands in a towel. He smiled by way of a welcome.
"I'm nearly finished," he said, his dark grey eyes squinting at her through the gloom. "I just need to finish cleaning up".
"I can help if you want?" she offered, but he shook his head.
"No, it's okay. Just give me a few minutes". Charlotte nodded, standing awkwardly as Harris returned to the small adjacent bathroom. She bit her lip, wishing she could get this over with, before her nerve faltered. Matt would kill her if he knew what she was up to. In fact she hoped he never found out.
"So you've ventured into my lair - homey isn't it?" The croaking, mirthful voice surprised Charlotte, and she half jumped, peering through the gloom to detect its source. Cautiously she moved forward, locating Freddie in the bed, his mischievous dark eyes glinting in the half-light of the room. It had been a long time since she had seen that devilish glint in Matt's eyes. She sighed at the thought.
Freddie was covered to his waist with a heavy duvet, but his chest was bare, revealing his ribs and, rather unsettlingly, a network of black veins travelling under his skin like a huge spider web, radiating out from a black mass that could only be his heart. Charlotte let her sight linger on the marks too long, unable to tear her eyes away from them. They were both grotesque and strangely beautiful.
"Don't worry, they don't always look like this," he replied hoarsely. "It's just Harris' magic at work". Charlotte nodded slowly, tearing her eyes from the marks and focusing on his worn face.
"I didn't mean to disturb you," she said with a gentle smile.
"You didn't. I'm pretty useless at this stage," he frowned. "The process makes me weak and I'll be asleep soon enough, but after that I'll feel fine again, for a while at least".
"Do you have much more to go?" she asked, glancing back at the network of black marks across his bare chest, unable to ignore them.
"Harris reckons about two or three more... sessions, I guess," he grinned brightly. His dimples were the same as Matt's. She scarcely remembered the last time she had seen Matt smile.
"That's great," Charlotte smiled.
"Sit down," Freddie said, nodding in the direction of a nearby chair. "Just eh... yeah throw the clothes on the floor". Charlotte grinned, placing his discarded clothes in a neat pile beside his locker, which was covered in old soccer stickers, and pulled the chair towards the bed.
"How's Matt's mood today?" Freddie asked, looking at her with a smirk on his lips. Freddie was well able to deal with his brother's irritated state. In fact, he was very good at knowing just what to say to sour Matt's mood even further. He delighted in tormenting his brother, which was usually a very funny conversation to listen to.
"Not great, he's not really there today. He's so tired he doesn't even notice you speaking to him," she replied, shaking his head.
"Yeah, he's always tired lately," Freddie agreed. "Though you were too".
"I still am," she laughed. "But I'm getting there, slowly".
"I can't really wrap my head around it... Matt's like a different person since he came back. What you must have gone through... but he won't talk about it," Freddie exhaled uneasily, a slightly pained expression passing over his features.
"He's a different person here than he was on the island too... He's... unhappy?" she frowned, wondering if that was the right word.
"He's worried. He gets like this when he's worried," Freddie replied. "He was sort of like this before he left. He was afraid he wouldn't make it back... you know with Harris and all... but this is different".
"What's worrying him though?" Charlotte asked. "Are they looking for us? Do they suspect him?"
"I don't really know. He contacts our father a bit, you know, to keep up the pretence but... I don't know, maybe it's all falling apart," he shrugged, wincing slightly. "I think Daphne could be giving him a bit of a hard time too. She is a little stuck in her ways - I think you scare her a bit".
"I scare her?" Charlotte laughed, her tone one of pure disbelief, though she wondered how much Freddie actually knew about her and her alteration. She wondered if he knew just how much she could scare them. "In that case the feeling is mutual".
"Don't worry about Daphne - she's just full of hot air," he laughed. "I would think it's what lies beyond this estate that should scare you more". Charlotte could see that sleep was beginning to take over, making his words less defined, his lids beginning to droop. "The world's a small place, Charlotte. And you know better than anybody the sort of people our father has in his employ. If they started looking for you in the right places..."
"And that's what worries Matt?" Charlotte asked, frowning. She hadn't thought of them coming for her, not really. If Monsieur Desmarais got his hands on her, she would definitely not be allowed to survive for long.
"Yes, I think so, though he doesn't tell me everything - anything really, not anymore," he answered.
"No, he doesn't talk to me much either," Charlotte sighed. "Not about the important things. I wish he would. I think he's trying to keep me safe or something".
"That sounds like Matt. He risked a lot to get Harris here, to save me. That trip could have killed him - it still could. I don't think my father knows that Harris is here," Freddie whispered. "And if he were to find out he was... or that you were here... well, you could imagine". He yawned widely, screwing up his eyes.
"Yeah - I can," she grumbled.
"He's completely ignoring the other dangers, though," he continued, his eyes almost closed. His voice was a bare whisper.
"Other dangers?" she asked, as sleep seemed to be stealing him.
"Hmm... yes," he sighed, his head falling slightly to one side. "You haven't changed that much, you know. It will only be a matter of time before..."
"Charlotte?" Harris called gently. Charlotte turned away from Freddie, to see Harris leaning against the door frame watching them. She wondered how long he had been standing there. When she turned back to Freddie he was fast asleep. Charlotte pursed her lips, wanting to know what he had been about to say. I would only be a matter of time before what?
"We'll leave him rest," Harris smiled, walking towards the door. Charlotte stood up and followed him quietly, and a little resentfully.
The corridor outside seemed so much brighter than Freddie's room, even though it was a grey brightness that pressed in through three large windows, accompanied by the drizzling rain. Charlotte's mind seemed crowded with questions and doubts, and she was finding it difficult to remember what she had wanted Harris for in the first place.
Harris closed the door to Freddie's room behind them and turned to Charlotte, his gentle smile on his long features.
"So what can I do for you?" Harris asked, sitting in the window overlooking the front drive. Charlotte frowned, her cheeks flushing red.
"I need... I was wondering if you could help Matt sleep," she asked embarrassedly. She knew Matt would be furious if he found out she was asking Harris for help.
"Charlotte..." he frowned.
"I know, I know, I shouldn't be asking, but Harris you have to admit he's not well. He needs to sleep. I just want to help him," she argued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't think he needed it".
"And how are you planning to get him to agree to it?" Harris asked.
Charlotte bit her lip. "I wasn't planning on getting him to agree," she replied. "I'll... drug him or something. He will never agree". Harris gazed at her for a moment, his turbulent eyes calculating.
"Well, I can't say I didn't think of it myself," he frowned. "If he finds out though..."
"I'll take the blame. He won't stay mad with me," she begged. "Matt is no help the way he is. Harris, I'm doing this because I'm worried about him". He frowned, knowing she was right.
With a heavy sigh, Harris stood up. "Wait here," he said shaking his head. He disappeared into Freddie's bedroom and reappeared with a large glass jar full of a white grainy powder, looking more like salt than anything.
"Just mix a heaped tablespoon with water or any drink," he explained. "He won't taste it and it won't just hit him. It feels... almost natural. It should last about eight hours or so," he continued, handing the jar to her carefully. She gripped it tightly, afraid she would lose it.
"Thank you," she smiled gently.
"Charlotte?" Harris asked, a little warily. She looked at him expectantly. A noise from down the corridor disturbed her and she glanced at Rhian breezing towards them. "I don't know what you've done over the last week that has made such a difference, but don't go back to the way you were. You will help nobody that way".
"I-I won't," she breathed, a little surprised at his earnest eyes, his earnest tone. She wondered if he too wanted to return to Kingston. She wondered if Rosy haunted him, as James haunted her. He had left half of himself on that island and so had she. "I will do what I can," she nodded as Rhian finally reached them.
"How's the patient?" she asked Harris, who finally tore his grey graze from Charlotte's face to look at Rhian.
"He's doing very well today," he nodded. "He actually just fell asleep".
"I'll sit with him for a while," she said softly, as Harris stood and opened the door back into Freddie's room. Harris disappeared without another word, leaving Charlotte clutching his sleep remedy closely to her chest. "Is everything okay Charlotte?" Rhian asked kindly, scrunching her forehead in thought.
"Oh - yeah," Charlotte smiled, shaking her head. "I was just thinking about... actually I should get going". She turned to leave, taking a few hasty steps down the corridor.
"Charlotte - wait," Rhian called after her. Charlotte paused turning back to the auburn-haired girl, her skin heavily dusted with freckles. "Daphne wants to see you".
Charlotte frowned, her body tensing. "She wants to see me? Why?" she breathed, unable to conceal the trepidation in her voice.
"She didn't say," Rhian shrugged. "She's in her office. She just said she wants to see you as soon as possible". Rhian pursed her lips and then smiled. "I wouldn't worry. She's probably just checking in with you, making sure you're settling in okay". Charlotte nodded, though she had an overwhelming sense of dread growing in her stomach. "Don't look so frightened, you're one of us now - she will look after you".
Charlotte sighed and forced a smile, though she was almost certain that Daphne did not see her as part of the family. She would always be one of the altered from Kingston in the eyes of the toad-like woman.
Nothing good will come of this, a part of her decided. And uneasily Charlotte realised it was her alteration that voiced her own fear to her.
Nothing good will come of this!
Thanks again for reading Altered, I hope it does not disappoint! Please don't forget to vote and comment if you enjoyed this chapter! :D I really do appreciate your feedback and input!
I have decided to dedicate this chapter to @clodaghjordan because when it comes to sleep she is a master ;) I hope you enjoy this simple little chapter - a break in the overall tension perhaps - and thank you so much for your constant support and... patience ;)
Thanks again everybody - don't forget to vote ;) Next update on Wednesday - so there's a little wait before we find out what Daphne wants with Charlotte! Happy reading Sorcha x