Testimony of Children (Alice Gray Book 2)

10

I'd craved it, this wealth. Every morning when I'd woken cold on scratchy straw I'd thought of this.

I hadn't thought of him. Or them.

Roger Nowell was supposed to be mine, that fat old man. Mine to use.

I should have seen it, or sensed it. He'd already been claimed.

The lump in my belly rolled around, mocking me with my stupidity. Soon I'd have to care for his bastard too.

It was time to escape this gilded cage. Before they got bored of toying with me.

I prised my eyes open, back into the present. Jennet Device had been scared back then. Scared and pregnant and alone. Not because of Roger Nowell, I knew who he was. The man that had persecuted the Pendle Witches. The man that had betrayed Alice Gray.

He'd been small fry to her. No, it was someone else that Jennet feared, someone vicious and powerful. They would have to be to worry that hard shell of a girl.

Untwisting my clothes that were tightly knotted around my limbs, I headed to the door that led out to the roof garden. It was crisp and dry outside, with a freshness to the air that I didn't expect in the busy city. I lowered my stiff body onto a wooden garden bench, perfectly placed to enjoy the sunrise over London. Pulling my coat around me, I relished the stillness of the early morning and tried to clear my mind of the lingering fear.

Jennet Device's fear.

Soon enough, I heard someone stirring in the lower portion of the house. Two people I realised, as a conversation floated up from kitchen, along with the delicious smells of breakfast cooking.

I cursed my rumbling stomach as I strained to eavesdrop.

"You've opened up Sarah's rooms, Stephen. It's the first time they've been used in ten years. Not that I'm complaining, it's an unconscionable waste to have this house empty and closed as much as it is."

It was a woman's voice, and one that I didn't recognise. An unwelcome pang of jealousy pierced me, as my imagination built all sorts of scenarios about Stephen's residence in this house with another woman. He'd probably been with this, or any number of women, during our fake relationship. I mean, he wasn't with me for love, so what had there been to stop him?

Who was I kidding? I was jealous of his attention right now, in the present, when everything about our relationship was out in the open. It was something I was going to have to get over pretty quickly to survive the next few days.

No one was going know that I had so little self-esteem that I still harboured feelings for a man who had betrayed me so completely. Not if I could help it.

I couldn't make out Stephen's mumbled response to the mystery woman. Deciding to put myself out of my misery, I went back inside. Serves me right for spying on them.

Suddenly insecure at the thought of meeting the other woman in Stephen's life, I took an ill-advised peek at myself in the bathroom mirror. My hair was a disaster, but that was nothing new. I combed the tangled curls through with my hand and plaited it. Dark circles under my eyes and paler than usual skin gave me a ghoulish reflection.

Sniffing at my top was another bad idea. My clothes were still pungent with fear from the dream. But there was no point in having a shower yet. I had no clean clothes to change into.

Glancing around the room, I considered my options. I quickly squashed the glimmer of hope that ignited when my eyes landed on the large wardrobe. Emerging like a horrifying spectre of Stephen's mother was not how I wanted to make my entrance.

Instead I just smoothed down my baggy, sleep-stretched top, and ignored my ripe scent.

Downstairs an open plan reception room and kitchen ran from the front all the way to the back of the house. French windows let the light of the garden into the kitchen area at the rear.

A small woman bustled about preparing breakfast. Her hair was steel grey and cropped close to her head. A trim figure and sharp movements told me that she was in good shape for her age, which must have been seventy at least. The easy way that she moved around, grabbing things from cupboards and drawers, showed me that she was at home here.

Tiny pale green particles hovered close to her skin. They flickered and dimmed before my eyes. When she turned, familiar bright blue eyes met my own. A gasp escaped as I realised that this woman was related to Stephen. And she wasn't human.

"Well, I'll be damned. Evelyn? No, it can't be, you'll have to excuse an old woman. You must be Alice, Stephen's guest."

"Yes...um, Evelyn was my mother, I don't believe I've met you before, have I?"

The woman grasped the counter to steady herself. Faint green particles clung to her skin, but there was something wrong. Her life-force was weak and it was fading fast.

Confusion pulled her eyebrows together knitting a web of creases through her paper-thin skin. Her blue eyes dimmed to grey as she searched her mind, trying to place something that had strayed just beyond her grasp.

Stephen rushed in while I was frozen, caught in the spectacle of her magic flickering in and out around her.

"Mary...Mary?"

Without a glance in my direction, Stephen led Mary over to one of the chairs positioned around the breakfast table. She went willingly, but she didn't respond. Her mind was somewhere else, the same place her magic had gone, if I had to guess.

"What did you do?" Stephen asked, his voice low and angry while his hand tenderly rubbed Mary's shoulder.

"What? Nothing. How could you think this was me?"

"Well something has obviously happened," he spat, the sharpness in his tone contrasting strikingly with his calm and gentle movements as he helped Mary stand.

I stared at their slowly retreating backs, mouth hanging open.

What the hell was that all about?

And how in God's name was it my fault?

Uh oh! There's a mystery or two here!
Thanks for reading. ⭐️ if you like it.