Rowan, Flo [e book reader online .txt] 📗
- Author: Flo
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couldn’t sleep, and occasionally Agnes joined her. Tonight they had pulled out a couple of chairs and were sipping tea in the moonlight, despite the light snow that had started to fall.
The scene reminded me of the day I first encountered the old ladies on a winter’s morn twelve years ago, when I fell in their half-frozen pond on a visit to Gandalf. My dad dragged me out and bundled me up in what must have been just about every towel in Wales, but I was still shivering so hard I could barely stand. Agnes appeared out of nowhere with a mug of hot chocolate, and Betty with a mountain of hot water bottles. I don’t remember much else apart from one of them saying something about their dwindling bladder control, but my point is that they were the best old people in the history of the planet, even with their fiery tempers and the death threats that ensued if you trod on their penstemons.
“Oh yes, I had it trimmed this morning, you know. Good night, dear.” she smiled.
“Night.” I replied, and let myself into the house.
I knew I was in trouble as soon as I closed the door. Firstly because I could hear voices coming from the kitchen, and secondly because Ellen’s coat was hanging on the banister.
“Rowan! Is that you?” she called in her shrill, vaguely American accent, destroying my attempt to sneak upstairs. She was, of course, from my mum’s side of the family- the people on my dad’s side were only ever irritating in an epic way.
I kicked off my shoes and practiced my pleased-to-see-you face as I walked the short distance between freedom and…well, having to talk to my aunt.
“S’up, El? G-star?” I greeted the adults.
Ellen looked me up and down, eyes narrowing until they could be narrowed no further and then widening again, her face one of absolute shock. Gilbert giggled at her reaction.
“My, you’ve…grown. The last time I saw you, you must have been four feet tall.” she said, composing herself.
“And she was wearing a rainbow jumper.” Gilbert noted gleefully.
“Yes, quite. Well, I think it’s time for me to leave. Lovely seeing you both. Goodbye.” she leapt up and whooshed past me, grabbing her coat and slamming the door shut behind her before another word could be said.
“Oh thank God, I couldn’t have taken another minute of that.” he groaned, pulling a mess of knives out of his pocket and placing them on the counter. “Oh, I don’t mean literally!” he laughed, noticing my expression. “You know what she’s like about mess. She arrived when I was in the middle of washing up and I didn’t have anywhere else to hide them.”
“Right…well, I’m off to bed. See you tomorrow.” I turned to go, but caught something out of the corner of my eye.
“What is it?” Gandalf asked, and I realized I had frozen in place.
“Um…nothing, just…tired or whatever. Later.” I hurried upstairs and sank onto the edge of my bed, shaking.
Did I imagine it? Or had my dad been standing in the corner of the room?
I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes, trying to calm down, but an image of his face flashed across my eyelids, maggots writhing in his eye sockets and beneath his skin, his flesh sunken with decay. I jumped off the bed, swearing, but even with my eyes open the image remained, not just his face now but his entire being. He smiled and stepped towards me, throwing me so far beyond terror that I could barely breathe. I stumbled backwards, scrambling across the bed, but there was nowhere to go, only a wall against my back, and him between me and the door.
My father reached for me, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted me dead.
I kicked out with everything I had, almost hoping I wouldn’t hit anything, because that would prove that this wasn’t just insanity, but my foot connected with his stomach and he went crashing to the ground..
“Rowan…” he croaked from the floor.
Fight or flight?
Flight, obviously.
But I had to get Gilbert first.
“Rowan, what the hell?”
Oh.
Oh dear.
Gilbert heaved himself off the floor, doubled over and coughing.
Imprint
The scene reminded me of the day I first encountered the old ladies on a winter’s morn twelve years ago, when I fell in their half-frozen pond on a visit to Gandalf. My dad dragged me out and bundled me up in what must have been just about every towel in Wales, but I was still shivering so hard I could barely stand. Agnes appeared out of nowhere with a mug of hot chocolate, and Betty with a mountain of hot water bottles. I don’t remember much else apart from one of them saying something about their dwindling bladder control, but my point is that they were the best old people in the history of the planet, even with their fiery tempers and the death threats that ensued if you trod on their penstemons.
“Oh yes, I had it trimmed this morning, you know. Good night, dear.” she smiled.
“Night.” I replied, and let myself into the house.
I knew I was in trouble as soon as I closed the door. Firstly because I could hear voices coming from the kitchen, and secondly because Ellen’s coat was hanging on the banister.
“Rowan! Is that you?” she called in her shrill, vaguely American accent, destroying my attempt to sneak upstairs. She was, of course, from my mum’s side of the family- the people on my dad’s side were only ever irritating in an epic way.
I kicked off my shoes and practiced my pleased-to-see-you face as I walked the short distance between freedom and…well, having to talk to my aunt.
“S’up, El? G-star?” I greeted the adults.
Ellen looked me up and down, eyes narrowing until they could be narrowed no further and then widening again, her face one of absolute shock. Gilbert giggled at her reaction.
“My, you’ve…grown. The last time I saw you, you must have been four feet tall.” she said, composing herself.
“And she was wearing a rainbow jumper.” Gilbert noted gleefully.
“Yes, quite. Well, I think it’s time for me to leave. Lovely seeing you both. Goodbye.” she leapt up and whooshed past me, grabbing her coat and slamming the door shut behind her before another word could be said.
“Oh thank God, I couldn’t have taken another minute of that.” he groaned, pulling a mess of knives out of his pocket and placing them on the counter. “Oh, I don’t mean literally!” he laughed, noticing my expression. “You know what she’s like about mess. She arrived when I was in the middle of washing up and I didn’t have anywhere else to hide them.”
“Right…well, I’m off to bed. See you tomorrow.” I turned to go, but caught something out of the corner of my eye.
“What is it?” Gandalf asked, and I realized I had frozen in place.
“Um…nothing, just…tired or whatever. Later.” I hurried upstairs and sank onto the edge of my bed, shaking.
Did I imagine it? Or had my dad been standing in the corner of the room?
I put my head in my hands and closed my eyes, trying to calm down, but an image of his face flashed across my eyelids, maggots writhing in his eye sockets and beneath his skin, his flesh sunken with decay. I jumped off the bed, swearing, but even with my eyes open the image remained, not just his face now but his entire being. He smiled and stepped towards me, throwing me so far beyond terror that I could barely breathe. I stumbled backwards, scrambling across the bed, but there was nowhere to go, only a wall against my back, and him between me and the door.
My father reached for me, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he wanted me dead.
I kicked out with everything I had, almost hoping I wouldn’t hit anything, because that would prove that this wasn’t just insanity, but my foot connected with his stomach and he went crashing to the ground..
“Rowan…” he croaked from the floor.
Fight or flight?
Flight, obviously.
But I had to get Gilbert first.
“Rowan, what the hell?”
Oh.
Oh dear.
Gilbert heaved himself off the floor, doubled over and coughing.
Imprint
Publication Date: 06-11-2012
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