Hunted

Eighteen: In Search of Sleep

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.