"Are you ready?" James whispered, bouncing his knee incessantly.
Charlotte was half-tempted to catch his leg and hold it still. His shoe squeaked on the linoleum floor of the crowded waiting room with each movement and if he didn't stop soon she wasn't sure what she would do to him, but she knew it would involve pain. She tried to channel her own anxiety into playing the game, a game she had become so desperately bored with, but his nervous bouncing was driving her to distraction.
She frowned glancing at James' bouncing leg. It was unlike him to be so outwardly nervous. And it was about the seventh time he had asked her those three words since they had dragged themselves from bed and had been transported by bus to the meeting area, a large four storey building on the outskirts of the city.
Exhaling, Charlotte turned towards him and smiled, though she found the smile painful, pulling at muscles that would much rather have kept in a frown. "Of course," she breathed, with a feigned air of happy indifference.
He stared at her, his clouded green eyes searching hers. She could almost hear the unspoken questions flitting through his head.
She had decided against telling him about her most recent encounter with Ramsey. It was easier not to. Confessing to him would have raised questions about where she had been and what she had been planning to do.
She also expected he would have been pretty annoyed to know she had gotten into a row with Ramsey. They didn't need to make him anymore of an enemy than they already suspected he was. Although Charlotte couldn't help but acknowledge the veil of doubt regarding his true motives that was now clouding her mind. Those worries had kept her awake most of the night.
She was embarrassed too, sickeningly so. She knew she had sounded no better than a spoilt child. It was mortifying. Plus she had lost the battle of words with him, slinking back to her room, her pride wounded.
"Are you sure?" James pressed, interrupting her thoughts. She nodded her head, meeting his apprehensive green gaze, her cheeks ablaze. She reached forward, pressing her hand to his knee and stilling the movement.
"Yes," she breathed.
"Is everything okay? You seem..." he started.
"Why wouldn't it be?"
"You're acting strange," he said. "You have hardly said two words since yesterday".
"I have nothing to say," she shrugged, deliberately biting her tongue to stop herself from pointing out how odd he was acting. It wasn't just her. "I just need to get on with this".
"Charlotte?" he exhaled. Charlotte gazed at him. She was doing nothing and yet he was looking at her as if she was tormenting him.
She forced a smile. "I'm fine, James. I'm just... nervous," she bluffed, "but I'm fine".
James nodded, his eyes clouding. "That's it?"
"Why? Is there something else I should be worried about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. He frowned, and she wondered for a moment if he was going to tell her what had been bothering him so much yesterday, what he had been discussing with Ethan, but he seemed not to remember that.
"No, nothing," he replied, his tone a little sore with her lack of response.
She smiled at him, a winning smile that twisted every muscle in her face into obedient compliance. "Well then, I'm just nervous about meeting them".
James looked as if he was about to argue against her explanation, his mouth opening and his brow furrowing when a female voice called across the crowded room, disturbing them.
"Charlotte Owens?" the woman asked, glancing up from her clipboard and raising her eyebrows over her thick-framed glasses.
Charlotte jumped up, trying to remember to appear calm. She glanced at James for moral support but he seemed as shocked as she was, his clouded eyes fixed on her, his worry hitting her like a train. She winced shaking her head to dislodge the discomfort and the temptation.
"I'll be back soon," she murmured.
He nodded, lost for words. She waited awkwardly, expecting some warning or encouragement but he seemed too confused to answer. She wanted to embrace him, tell him it would be okay, but she realised she had no idea if it would be okay, or if she even knew what she would be reassuring him about.
"Miss Owens?" the woman repeated just as Charlotte was going to press him for an answer.
Instead she straightened up and smiled at him, forcing an air of confidence, before following the woman from the room. She wondered if the other students, now watching her with pity and unease could taste her fear, like she could taste it. She hoped they were oblivious to the panic that was choking her. Play the game, play the game, she repeated again and again to herself, her own reassuring mantra, as she focused on putting one foot in front of the other and ignoring the dizzying sense of dread filling her.
The corridors they passed through were varying shades of taupe and smelled like cleaning agent and dust mingled together in a weird paradox. They twisted and turned, each area looking exactly the same as the last, muddling any chance Charlotte had of remembering the path they had come. They passed by uniform door after uniform door, their footsteps muffled by the worn brown carpet on the ground. Silence followed them, the buzz of the lighting overhead the only break in the monotonous hush of the windowless hallways.
The woman finally paused outside one of the doors and glanced back at her clipboard.
"Here we are – 206," she sighed, tapping the clipboard with her finger. "The meeting will last about thirty minutes today, but if you wish to leave earlier, just press the buzzer on the inside of the wall. Alright honey?" she exhaled.
Charlotte nodded.
"We will come and collect you and bring you back to the waiting room. Don't bother trying to find your own way back - this place is a maze and we can't risk losing you". She smiled at Charlotte kindly, her red lips spreading wide.
"Thank you," Charlotte managed to say, surprised at how steady she sounded. She hoped she appeared as calm as she sounded, though she doubted it. Inside her stomach was performing violent somersaults and her heart was beating so fast, it seemed to her to be humming.
"It will be over before you know it," she smiled encouragingly. "Just one step at a time".
Charlotte nodded again, as the woman reached forward and turned the door handle. Charlotte inhaled, and exhaled slowly as the door fell open.
The woman winked at her and Charlotte stepped forward, gritting her jaw and concealing her sweating hands behind her back.
The room was small and windowless, a continuation of the muted tones of the corridors. The only furniture inside were a table and a selection of uncomfortable looking chairs. Charlotte's gaze fell to the couple sitting at the table, their hands entwined tightly, their eyes wide and fearful.
"Mr and Mrs Owens, I would like to reintroduce you to your daughter, Charlotte," the woman smiled.
They stood up, the woman trembling, the man expressionless. Charlotte tried to smile, but couldn't find the courage, offering them a meagre half-grimace instead.
"I'll leave you to get acquainted," the woman said, "but remember, just press the buzzer if you want to leave early – any of you".
All too quickly Charlotte heard the door click shut behind her.
She swallowed. The silence in the room seemed too loud. She was sure they could hear her heart hammering against the inside of her ribcage, her pulse pounding in her temple, her alteration trashing its tale in fretful impatience. They stood, huddled together as if too afraid to believe it was her, or perhaps too nervous to move in case they frightened her.
"Hello," she said in an even voice, surprising herself with her ability to speak. Tentatively she took a step forward. Her voice did not betray the nauseating apprehension that was turning over and over in her stomach. Nor did it betray the distraction these people were causing to her alteration. The room was saturated with their fear of meeting her, it tainted each breath she inhaled. It made it hard to keep her focus on them, but she fought through it, ignoring it as best she could.
The woman, her mother, opened her mouth to speak, but only a croaking voice came out, accompanied by a great welling of tears.
Charlotte bit her lip, unsure of what to do in response. She waited, hoping the woman would pull herself together, all the while reminding herself what Ramsey had said. Losing you destroyed them. She could see that in their appearance, their movements. The entire weight of what they had been put through seemed to be finally crushing them.
Charlotte thought the woman was pretty, but she looked exhausted, as if she had been stretched too thin, by time or grief, or both. Her face though youthful, had lines that looked alien, as if they had arrived too early. Her blue eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot. Her lips were cracked and her fair hair lacked lustre.
Her husband had his arm around her, as if he was trying to protect her from her pain. He was greying and tall, with a stoic sort of impression. Unlike the woman he seemed emotionless and cold in that instant. He had blue eyes too, clear and bright, set in a square face.
"I didn't mean too..." Charlotte hesitated, unsure of what to do. "If you want, I can give you a few moments..."
The woman shook her head frantically, a strange humming noise echoing from her chest. She still didn't seem to have the words she wanted.
"Please don't go," the man said, as if interpreting the woman's noise. "It's just a little overwhelming".
Charlotte gazed at him for a moment. He didn't look the least bit overwhelmed, but more concerned with the woman's fragility at that moment.
"We've been looking forward to meeting you," he offered to avoid the silence that was quickly descending.
"I can't believe it's actually you," the woman finally gasped, and a smile broke through to the man's face. "It's actually you".
Charlotte smiled as the woman smiled. She didn't know what else to do. She could feel her cheeks burning.
"I mean..." the woman moved around the table. Charlotte stilled as she approached.
"Caroline," the man said in a gently voice. "Remember what they said".
She waved a hand, her eyes searching Charlotte's face. "You've grown up so much. I can't believe how beautiful you are". Charlotte could feel her flush darken as the woman reached forward and took her face in her hands. Charlotte tensed slightly, but forced herself not to pull away. In any case it wasn't like the patrons, poking and prodding to see her reaction. This woman was cradling her face, searching her gaze, looking for something perhaps.
"What did they say?" Charlotte breathed, as Caroline brushed Charlotte's hair back from her face.
The man frowned. "That you don't know us. That we are only strangers to you".
"Is it true?" Caroline whispered. "Can you really not remember us?"
Charlotte shook her head and the woman withdrew her hands. "I know who you are supposed to be in theory," she offered. "I get why we're here, but I don't remember you. I don't remember any of the world before the island. I'm sorry. I wish I did, but..."
"Don't worry," the man said, his voice a little unsteady. "They explained it all to us. We just let ourselves hope..."
"I am sorry though," Charlotte breathed. "I know it can't have been easy on you". The man sat and the woman, Caroline, moved back to his side, holding her hands as if unsure what to do with them. Tentatively, Charlotte took the seat opposite them.
He nodded and smiled sadly. The smile transformed his appearance, his eyes crinkling, deep dimples and laugh lines appearing, making him seem friendly and kind.
"I forget sometimes, how hard it must have been, because I don't feel like I know you... you are strangers to me. I mean I don't even know what to call you," she whispered.
This seemed to confuse them too. She could see they were trying to come to terms with the reality of the situation, but she could see it hurt them.
"What did I call you before?" Charlotte prompted.
"Well... Mum and Dad," he exhaled, while seeming to understand it wasn't the right fit. "For now just call us Andrew and Caroline".
"Maybe, when I get to know you a bit better... when it feels right..." she compromised, trying to stop saying the wrong thing. They nodded reluctantly. Silence descended again and Charlotte was very aware that they were staring at her, unblinking as if afraid they would miss something.
"You must have a lot of questions?" Charlotte asked after a moment.
"They told us a lot before today. We've been preparing to meet you for weeks, so they gave us a pretty thorough explanation of what life was like," Andrew explained. "It doesn't mean we don't have questions – my mind feels like it's about to explode with questions, but we were told not to push too hard today".
Charlotte smiled. "They told you everything?"
"We think so – positives and a bucket load of negatives," he sighed, looking sad again. "Some believable, others... not so much". He paused frowning as if trying to notice something in her, to see some truth that wasn't so obvious. "Honestly, what nearly surprises me the most is how... normal you seem after it all".
"You were expected a reclusive mess?" Charlotte asked, smiling at them. "We are trained to handle tough situations. It affects us, but we cope well with it for the most part," she explained. "And we are very good at putting forward a brave face".
"I could do with some of that training right now," Caroline muttered, dabbing her eyes with a tissue.
"It has a happy ending right? So that should help," Charlotte replied. Caroline half-laughed, half-sobbed, nodding.
They watched her again, scrutinising her. It was hard not to look away. She could see the questions flitting across their faces and she could only imagine what they were going through, what they were thinking. Again guilt washed over her as she remembered her argument with Ramsey. Now that these people, her parents, were real, now that they had a face, she could hardly not cringe at her selfishness.
"Okay, I do have a question," Andrew declared, interrupting Charlotte's thoughts and the prolonged silence that had descended on the small room.
"Andrew," Caroline chided, her lips puckering as if in warning. "You said you would leave it". Her tone strengthened and she almost looked like a shadow of a person who might be strong and wilful. She seemed to know what her husband was wanting to ask and her expression of disapproval seemed almost comical to Charlotte.
"Well it's bugging me too much," he grumbled. "As her parents, we should know if..."
"Just ask me," Charlotte said, before Caroline could tell him otherwise. Whatever it was, seemed to be grating on him and Charlotte knew it would be better to get it out in the open now.
"The boy?"
Charlotte frowned. "Is that a question?" she laughed. Caroline closed her eyes and shook her head apologetically.
"The boy on the TV with you. We would like to know more about him," Andrew said, ignoring Caroline as she exhaled audibly.
"You would like to know more about him," his wife corrected. "Not that I don't, but..." she waved her hand dismissively.
"What would you like to know?" Charlotte asked unable to hide her grin.
"Anything – everything," Andrew said.
"Well, his name is James Alexander. He was the head boy at Kingston. He is very smart and talented, and he would do anything to protect me. He has risked his life more times than I can count to keep me from danger and he loves me very much". She spoke matter-of-factly, watching the growing smile on Caroline's face and the pucker of doubt on Andrew's forehead.
"Do you love him?" Caroline asked, and Andrew scowled.
"Yes," she nodded.
"I will need to meet him," Andrew exhaled, hardly trying to conceal his disapproval.
"So this is the kind of father you're going to be to her? Over-protective?" Caroline laughed. Her laugh had a musical quality to it that made Charlotte smile.
"I just want to meet him," Andrew reiterated.
"You will," Charlotte nodded. "He will want to meet you too – he will probably need to make sure he can trust you... He's over-protective like that too".
"Well that should be fun," Caroline smiled, rolling her eyes. "You can try to outdo each other".
"James can be pretty charming when he wants to be," she sighed. "You will like him".
"I'm sure we will," Caroline nodded.
"I can't believe this but our time is nearly up," Andrew exhaled.
"Apart from James, is there anything else you're curious about?" Charlotte asked.
"Too much," Andrew replied, "but we will get to that in time".
"Well is there anything I should know about you? Like apart from your names, I don't know anything about you".
They exchanged glances. "Well we live in France for most of the year. I lecture in one of the universities in Paris. We go back to England during the summer months. Caroline is an estate agent in a town south of Paris – that's where we live," Andrew offered.
"We have one other child, Julian. He's eight and he's really looking forward to meeting you," Caroline nodded.
"We have a huge dog – Rufus – he's more demanding than Julian".
"And well, I think everything else is history now. Our family story usually got eclipsed by your disappearance. We were the people whose child was kidnapped," Caroline sighed with a watery smile.
"Now you're the people whose child was found, against the odds," Charlotte offered, reaching forward and squeezing her hand reassuringly. Tears splashed on to her cheeks at Charlotte's words, just as the door to the room opened.
"Charlotte, are you ready?" the woman who had brought her to the room called from the corridor outside.
They all stood up. "I'll see you soon," Charlotte said encouragingly, allowing Caroline embrace her tightly. Andrew hugged her too, a little more cautiously than his wife, as if afraid he would frighten Charlotte.
"Now that we have you, I don't want to give you back," Caroline wept, though she remained smiling, almost oblivious to her tears.
"It's only temporary," Charlotte offered, stepping away from them.
As she turned to leave she tried to ignore the unexpected reluctance she felt at leaving them. Even if she didn't remember them, she felt an instant connection to them as if they were friends she hadn't seen in a long time.
As she followed the woman back through the maze of taupe corridors, butterflies surged in her stomach. It was a strange, wonderful thought. She had a family. She had a mother, a father. She had a brother even – and a dog. She suddenly, beyond anything else, wanted to trust Ramsey. Her head spun at the thought he could be deceiving them.
She glanced back the way she had come.
She had to trust Ramsey, because she wanted to trust them. And if Ramsey was lying, so were they.
Thanks so much for reading - and sorry for the major delay! I had to get this up, because I couldn't keep you waiting much longer! It was a very difficult chapter to write - I have scraped it so many times! I hope you enjoyed what I have offered you - if you do please vote/comment/share! It all means so much! Sorcha x