The morning was bright, the sky white and ethereal. The first thing Selina saw was a quizzical robin sitting on the windowsill, its black eyes alert. She sat up, alarming the bird; it flapped and fell from the window and dove for a safer perch upon a nearby roof.
She drew the curtains closed and made her way to the kitchen where she lit the wood burner, setting a small iron kettle on a hook above it.
She and Priya had been given many provisions when they were initially escorted to their homes, the villagers providing tea-leaves, sheets, cutlery, towels, and utensils. Food had been especially baked for them; sweet meats, dried fruits, smoked fish, waxed cheese and jars of preserves. With the two of them now in one house, their larder had enough to last months.
Opening a drawer she reached to the back and retrieved Richard Kelly’s crumpled letter. She read the opening again, then tried to read the remainder that had been heavily scrawled over in a peak of frustration. It was indecipherable, except for a sentence that looked as though it read: “help, John, you’re the only one who ever could.” and a brief phrase, “they’re so scared of the world.”
She flattened it out on the worktop, idly wondering if she should take it to Eryn. Would she know more about it? She still felt uncertain about showing it to Priya, especially after seeing her skulking about in the night. What had she been up to anyway? Looking for a means of escape?
She took a mug from the cupboard, and leaned against the sideboard before cursing herself. She’d forgotten fire wasn’t permitted during hours of daylight. She took a flask of water and doused the flames, her need for a cup of tea increasing tenfold.
She heard the floorboards above, instinctively snatching up the letter and returning it to the back of the drawer.
Before long Priya was making her way down the stairs. She appeared at the door, her linen night-dress baring her knees. She put her hands to the small of her back and stretched, then pulled at the rough fabric she was wearing. ‘I feel like a potato.’
Selina looked at her, the light of the living room window silhouetting her in the dress. She looked away and willed herself not to blush.
Priya saw and smirked at Selina’s demure, near puritan demeanour. ‘Morning, honey,’ she teased before padding into the kitchen, her feet sticking slightly to the scarred linoleum. ‘Did we decide who wears the trousers after all?’ She took hold of Selina’s hand, interweaving their fingers. ‘Only I’m desperate for a cup of tea and I would like to keep you on your toes if you’re to be my wife.’
Selina smiled thinly, and unhooked their fingers, sitting at the table in the centre of the room.
‘No hot water, I’m afraid.’
Priya blinked, and then raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh, right, I forgot about that rule. Well, I suppose we’ll just have to make do with cold water. Yum.’ She took the empty water flask and Selina laughed, explaining she had thrown it over the fire. Priya rolled her eyes and disappeared into the cellar to collect more. When she returned she said, ‘You know? You’ve never spoken about whether you left a relationship behind in New Zealand.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ Selina bridled, ‘I was with someone a few months before I left but, well, he wasn’t the most monogamous of men.’
‘Ouch,’ Priya said, wishing she hadn’t said anything.
‘I found out about his various indiscretions afterwards of course, though he still had the nerve to tell me that of all of them I was his favourite. Complete bastard.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry, I just thought it was...’
‘What the hell is that noise?’ Selina said, screwing her face and stepping past Priya. ‘It’s driving me mad.’
‘What noise? I don’t hear anything...’
‘Listen... it’s like...it’s like wasps eating wood. Can’t you hear it?’
Priya lifted her chin, ‘Yeah, I can now you mention it.’ The noise had been pulling at the back of her awareness but now it was clearly noticeable. ‘What is it?’
For a moment they both listened to the rapid tapping that had no discernible source. Priya stealthily moved from room to room, returning to the living room and declaring that it was loudest in there.
Selina stepped to the window and peered through the curtain before immediately recognising the source of the drumming. At the uppermost corner of the window was a small box from which protruded a needle vibrating against the glass. Semilion had shown them the contraption on the initial tour of their homes, and had warned them to keep the windows and curtains closed should it ever sound.
‘It’s the signal that one of those spheres, those Blackeye things, has been spotted.’
Priya moved toward the window, drawing the curtains before peeling back the partition. She looked over the rooftops and towards the bay, but couldn’t see anything. ‘Might not even be anywhere near here. Might be over at Woolacombe.’
Selina was at her shoulder, searching also. ‘How long do we have to wait?’
‘Until this thing stops tapping I sup... Ah, there! I see it, look.’ She lowered her voice to little more than a whisper. Selina followed her gaze.
‘Where?’
‘It’s moving down the high street... towards the Smuggler’s.’ She watched the large black orb drift along the street as though it were cotton riding the breeze. ‘The wall’s in the way, I can’t see it... no, there it is, it’s in the Summer’s back garden. It’s stopped...’
Selina stepped away from the window, placing her hands on the back of the sofa. ‘What’s it doing?’ She turned back to the kitchen, suddenly remembering the fire she had doused, would smoke be pluming from the chimney? She took a few tentative steps but saw there was none.
‘Nothing, it’s not doing anything.’ She drew the curtain back a little. ‘Not that I can see anyway.’
There was a long spell of silence, Selina feared something incriminating had been dropped in the long grass. ‘It’s moving on,’ Priya said, ‘it’s behind... I can’t see it... I think it’s gone.’
They both exhaled, waiting for the needle to stop rapping on the window pane.
‘Is the window upstairs closed?’ Selina whispered. Priya nodded in reply.
‘And the curtains?’
Priya thought for a moment, then shrugged. ‘I don’t think so... But there’s nothing to see up there anyway.’
They remained quiet for a time, Priya gazing out of the window and Selina waiting cautiously behind the sofa.
After a few minutes Selina began to idle about the other villagers, whether any were outside and how they were warned of the Blackeyes presence. She remembered Semilion mentioning something, though the memories of her first days seemed to be consumed by adrenaline.
Priya stepped away from the curtains, leaving the curtain slightly parted.
‘Pri, maybe you should draw it?’
Priya turned and shrugged, ‘It’s fine, it’s not coming back.’
‘Famous last words,’ Selina replied, somewhat annoyed by her tone. ‘How about you?’ She found herself asking, her irritation provoking her to ask a lingering and unspoken question.
‘Hmm?’
‘You were married and you never...’
‘I wasn’t married!’ Priya said indignantly, doing a bad job of feigning laughter. She lowered her voice. ‘I mean, I wasn’t!’
‘Come on, the third finger, your wedding finger,’ she snorted and nod towards it, ‘there’s a band of pale flesh. You were obviously married for quite a while,’
Priya said nothing for a moment and then shrugged. ‘There’s not much to say. He didn’t want to come. I think he’d wanted to end it for some time but... well, it was a good excuse as any for him to finally do it.’ She made a hiss and a clicking sound and said, ‘He was the first thing in my life that had been stable, and, well... When I boarded the Tangaroa I promised that I’d erase him completely and make a new start.’
Selina thought an apology would have been inappropriate. She had intended to pry. She looked at her feet, willing the right words to
fall in to place, though when they didn’t come she decided saying nothing would be best. ‘Come on, let’s have some breakfast while...’
She froze as the dark globe rose in the parting of the curtain. Priya slid away, her back to the wall, as the Blackeye ascended noiselessly into view. It eclipsed the morning light as it filled the window. A single green lens began to revolve and fix the room with its impassive eye.