Chapter 10 - An Evacuation
The families in the street look confused, carrying heavy bags and holding their children's hands, dragging them along behind them. There is one man who is holding his daughter in a princess carry with two leather bags, one over each shoulder. He has unkempt brown hair and looks like he may have been in the middle of cooking, with an apron on over his working clothes that is stained with grease.
“At least the Estate is doing something drastic. Evacuating everyone in neighbouring streets, they must have realised how serious this is.” Irene comments, reading the notice in greater detail. “They have renovated their main hall into a shelter for people to sleep in, offering rations a-“
“I’d like to go.”
Andrew and Irene turn from the door, looking inward toward Ida who is now dressed in a long black dress, slightly ill-fitting, her shoulders covered by the black shawl. Her hair is up in a messy ponytail and her eyes are still slightly raw.
“Ida…” Andrew starts, but Irene places a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s probably the right idea, Ida. You should be much safer there.” Irene pauses, removing something from a fold of her skirt. “Take this though. One because you’ll be able to use it to defend yourself, and two because if anyone at the estate gives you hassle I want you to show it to them and they should leave you alone.”
Irene hands her a brass knife, a twin to the one she gave to Andrew a few days ago now.
“It’s not doing me any good anyway, and if we need it, your Brother has one.”
“Thank you, Irene. Andrew, a minute?” Ida asks, gesturing to the back of the store.
“Oh. Alright.” They both move down the back, between the aisles, leaving Irene in the open doorway looking out.
The moment Andrew catches up to Ida, she wraps her arms around his shoulders, squeezing tightly and resting her head on his chest.
“I’m sorry, Andrew, but I cannot be here by myself. Not whilst you are out there around those things.”
“Don’t be silly. You will be much safer away from all of this.” He returns the squeeze. “I love you Ida. I cannot express how sorry I am for your loss.”
“I love you too, Andrew. Bring William back, you are much better with him around.” She smiles, a tear running down her cheek.
-
The Estate is humming with activity, families queueing out the front door in droves, dragging bags and sacks of belongings with them. Just beyond the front gate, Ida is busily picking at her nails, her lips pursed and deep in thought. A small hand tugs at the hem of her dress, causing her to break from her stupor with a start, pulling away and startling the young girl who had tried to get her attention.
“Sorry!” A tall man with a messy apron and equally messy brown hair calls out, rushing over to the little girl. She has straw-like blond hair that is perfectly straight and just over shoulder length, with sky blue eyes that look just about ready to cry.
“I’m sorry, Miss. I didn’t mean to scare you.” She mumbles out over a quivering bottom lip. Her father scoops her up, cradling her against him.
“It’s alright, Charlotte, she knows.” Mouthing an apology again to Ida, he smiles softly, although something about his face is screaming sadness.
“It’s no problem at all, Charlotte was it? I was just a little distracted is all.” Ida says comfortingly. “Did you need something from me?”
“No Miss, I just wanted to say I liked your dress.”
“That’s so sweet of you, Charlotte, but it’s not my dress, I’m just borrowing. I will pass on your compliments to the owner when I see her again though.”
The father smiles again, mouthing his thanks before turning away as the queue begins moving.
Ida, taking a deep breath, wraps her shawl around herself tighter before following them in. The interior is loud, the intermingling chorus of the crowd causing a general hum. There are numerous cots laid out in rows from the back wall up until about three steps from the front doors. A pale, bald man with a thin black goatee is taking names on a register from everyone as they come in. He nods at Ida as she enters, holding out his clipboard as a questioning gesture.
“Ida, Ida Bentley.” She replies, flatly.
Walking away as he notes it down, she moves to an empty cot, setting down the small, bulging hessian bag that she’s been carrying.
-
The next few hours pass in a blur, Ida scarcely moving from her cot except to take a short trip to relieve herself in a side room, to which she was very helpfully escorted to by one of the staff members. By the time she returned, they had passed out a small rationed meal of bread and soup, which she ate in silence.
As it starts to turn darker, the room getting slightly harder to make out the details of, there is a sudden and new hum that is pervasive throughout. Dozens of tiny glass bulbs around the hall begin glowing with a slightly flickering light, eliciting a handful of shocked murmurs from the less affluent families. Ida barely registers it, laid on her side on the cot, staring at the small golden band that is leaving a small indent on the pillow.
“Hello again, Miss.” Charlotte’s tinkly voice chimes from behind Ida, causing her to sit up slowly.
“Hello, Charlotte, are you settled in alright? Where is your father?”
“I think he’s gone to ask for a change of clothes, because we left in such a hurry.” Charlotte moves round to Ida’s front, fidgeting with the edge of the cot. “Are you sad, Miss?”
Tears start welling on the rim of Ida’s lids before she rubs them away. “I’m sorry, I just… lost someone recently.”
Charlotte pats Ida’s knee, sniffling a tiny bit. “Me too, my Mummy went away a little while ago and hasn’t come back. I miss her.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that, Charlotte.” Ida comforts, placing her hand on Charlotte’s head gently. “But your father looks like he’s taking good care of you.”
“He’s the best!” She wipes away her tears, smiling up at Ida before running off, spotting him across the room. He’s in an ill-fitting pair of suit trousers and shirt, tucking the shirt in awkwardly.
Ida lays back down, unable to stop the tears from overflowing any longer, crying until the room returns to darkness for the night.
-
The hall is silent, save for a few loud sleepers, with little to no light at all. The shape of a young man, turning restlessly in his cot, shifts back and forth before eventually sitting up. He has his hand on his chest, breathing slowly, calming from what must have been a nightmare.
After a few minutes with his head in his hands, he lays back down, eyes closing slowly before blinking back open, a beam of light catching him from the front of the hall, seeping in from around the edges of the curtains on the front window. Letting out a quiet grunt of frustration, he moves his legs off the cot and starts carefully navigating between the resting figures toward the light.
The front hall's windows are tall, the leftmost one somehow illuminated by some light outside, around the edges of the curtains. The man steps up in front of the window, checking back over his shoulder briefly before tugging the curtain to one side, stepping backward to look around. The light outside is bright enough that it illuminates him in the reflection. He stands in ruffled ill-fitted clothes, unkempt hair and his hand over his face to shield it from the light. He quickly checks back over his shoulder, but no one is stirring from the sudden brightness. He steps forward again, going to pull the curtain back closed before he catches a glimpse of his own face in the reflection.
His eyes. Like discs of pure silver. He quickly presses his hand to his chest to stop himself panicking, but his reflection doesn’t. Instead, it steps unnaturally backward away from the curtain, dropping it.
“Daddy?” Charlotte’s voice hangs in the air like an executioner's axe about to fall. Her little form is just barely visible from behind the reflection of him.
He tries to strain to move, to turn, but his eyes are stuck on those two tiny mirrors. He slams his fist into the window in front of him.
-
Ida awakes with a start, the sound of tapping on glass audible from the other end of the hall.
She hears it, a child’s voice crying out for her father, the tapping getting faster and faster. Ida throws herself from the cot and starts running.
Not just tapping now, but the sound of other people stirring, although that is drowned out by the sudden haunting creaking noise. Ida can see them, her tiny form shadowed against the man who is groaning aloud, his joints protesting at the movement. He steps backwards. His arms crack in place as they reach behind him for the innocent child. His hands are so close to her.
Ida throws her whole body weight at him, sending him crashing into an empty cot. She doesn’t take a second glance in his direction as she grabs the protesting child under her arms and hoists, running for a side room. The tapping stops.
“I’m sorry.” She whispers under her breath as she runs.
A few moments later, screams start echoing around the hall.
-
The sounds of struggling and crashing is subsiding, replaced now by a cacophony of ungodly groans and the telltale sound of those things moving.
The room that Ida has dragged Charlotte into is long, resembling something like the hall of a museum, with display cases standing in rows against each wall. The two girls are pressed into a corner behind the furthest stand, Ida’s hand still pressed firmly over Charlotte’s mouth as it has been for the last few minutes. The staff that normally warded people away from the side rooms like this had their hands full by the time Ida arrived, meaning she could slip in unnoticed.
Charlotte’s hyperventilation slowly begins to die down, her tears drying up, staring at Ida, eyes wide with fear.
“Charlotte, if I take my hand away you are going to need to be very quiet.” Ida whispers carefully. Charlotte nods slowly, and Ida removes it.
“Miss, what happened to my Daddy?”
“I’m so sorry, Charlotte, I don’t know. But for now, stay with me and stay away from everyone else alright?” Eliciting another frightened nod.
Ida finally turns away from the child, peeking down the length of the dimly lit hall. The door on the far end is still closed. She lets out a sigh of relief. She pulls herself and Charlotte to their feet, dusting herself off.
“Let's get you out of here shall we?”
“But my Daddy?” Her bottom lip starts quivering again.
“Once I know you are safe, I will do everything I can to help him. I promise.” The lie buying precious trust from the innocent girl.
Ida stands, scanning around the room for other doors, of which there are three. One on the opposite end of the hall from the one she entered, and one on each wall. Trying the first door, the one on what would be the left wall if you were entering from the main hall. Locked.
“Miss? Look at this.” Charlotte is pointing at something in the display stand they had been pressed up against.
“One minute, Charlotte.” Swearing under her breath, she moves to the one furthest from the hall, trying the stiff brass handle. Locked again.
“It’s so weird looking. It kind of hurts my eyes.”
Ida turns to this now, concern apparent on her face. She strides quickly up to the case, pulling Charlotte away. There are two items in the case, one of which looks like a tiny model chair of burgundy wood with lavender cushioning. Its details are so perfect that as Ida studies it, the perspective feels… off. Like it’s just a normal chair in the room. She pulls away from it, focusing on the other object, a silvery metal jewellery box, no larger than the one sat on Ida’s dresser at home. Its design is minimalistic, with a small amount of flowery engraving to the trim of it. There is a small plaque just under the display, reading:
‘Masons Box. Chair for Scale.’
“What?” Ida utters, slightly louder than she had intended, as she clamps her hand over her own mouth. She quickly checks the door to the hall again, which thankfully remains closed.
“Miss, look at this one! It's so pretty.” Charlotte has moved down to the next one.
“Charlotte, stay away from these cases, there is something… weird about them.”
“But it’s so pretty.”
Ida moves over to the next one, pulling Charlotte away and kneeling down to her eye-level.
“Stay away from them for now, please Charlotte.” Ida’s usually kind face screwed up into a stern look.
“Yes, Miss.”
“Call me Ida.”
“Yes, Miss Ida.”
Sighing and straightening herself out, Ida takes a brief glance at the object in the case. It looks to be an astrolabe, ever so slowly shifting in place. She looks away, toward the last door, not noticing the handful of orbs circling the astrolabe with no tether. She moves over to the remaining door, which is slightly smaller. The handle rattles in her grip, the door hinging open with a muted squeak. A storage cupboard. Big enough to fit inside whilst hunching, but by no means an escape. Ida turns back to the room, a few strands of her hair falling over her face. Charlotte is only a short distance away, shifting from foot to foot, nervously eyeing some of the other display cases with curiosity. One of the cases sits open, the contents missing.
“Charlotte, do you have anything small and thin on you, like a hairpin?”
“No, sorry.”
“Don’t worry.” Ida pulls out the brass dagger from its place tucked under her dress. She starts to use it to carefully lever against the farthest door again, the wood splintering around it. It starts to shift ever so slightly, before the dagger begins to bend against the weight. She stops, looking at the slightly bent dagger and letting out a huff.
“Useless, there has to be something better in here.” Tucking it away, she ushers Charlotte closer. “Listen, Charlotte, being very quiet and careful, can you please check through that supply cupboard for anything long and heavy? Ideally made of metal.”
“Absolutely.” She beams, tiptoeing over to the cupboard, pleased with her mission.
Ida starts checking the display cases, her face getting more and more confused as she makes a quick pass over each one. She takes quick note of the empty one, which has two small indentations and a plaque that reads:
‘Twin Hearts. To stay connected.’
The next one along is an ornate ivory portrait picture frame with a blank canvas inside, labelled as:
‘Maiden’s Frame. Do not remove.’
She begins moving to the next one before she is interrupted by a clatter of metal from behind her, which is then immediately followed by a dull thump on the door to the main hall, causing her to go still.
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