The Tens Read online

  It had been a long fruitless day for Sophie and she had convinced herself that Carla and Alex were, somehow, linked. And getting hold of that keyring would prove it, either way. The more she mentally chewed on it, the less it seemed likely that Alex was a patient. Sure, he was stressed at work the last time Sophie had seen him but nothing he couldn't manage. He certainly didn't appear to be unravelling into the state that Sophie had found herself in. The image of the two having an affair also looked starkly wrong in her mind’s eye. But the relief of explanation would soothe her. Once she knew for sure. The unknown was doing nothing but fuel the hallucinations, the midnight voices and the nightly escapades that ran her dreamscape. She was drained. And any kind of answers that she could find, no matter how disturbing, would provide her with some chunk of peace that she'd been hungering for.

  Ahead, Carla's red lights grew brighter as she came up to a fence on the side of the road. Sophie kept driving past her as inconspicuously as possible, her head and spine straight, like she was about to be told off in a classroom. The red eyes dimmed in her rearview mirror as they waggled their way up a hill beyond the fence.

  'Current location?'

  'I'm sorry,' her phone said unapologetically, 'I am having trouble with your request.'

  She tried ringing Alex again for good measure but his phone repeated the same dead-end message. Sophie could not stand the thought, could not even stand being with herself, cooped up in her car without resolve. If she just went up the hill where Carla disappeared to, knocked on her door and explained herself... 'I just want to know where Alex is. Can you help me find him?' She imagined pleading. Or, if Alex answered, she would tell from his face. The answers would be etched into the lines that forked off his eyes. Plus, she'd had the total satisfaction of showing up to his little bubble and declaring that she knew exactly what he was up to. A small portion of revenge for him leaving her so abruptly.

  Earlobes stinging with adrenalin, she left her car and stumbled along the fence waiting to come to an opening or a gate. She just hoped she'd see Carla's lights again when she trekked over the hill. Worn out grooves in the grass began to take the shape of a dirt road and Sophie risked her clothing and skin by pushing down the barbed wire fence and hauling a leg over at a time, careful not to release the tension of the wire up between her legs.

  The triumph of saddling over the barb wire fence spurred on a little jog up an incline that she wished, although she could not actually see, would lead her to a house. Her cheeks stung and she promised herself that at the first sign of feeling too cold, she would turn back to her car, drive back through the city and all the way home to a steaming hot shower. But it was all lip service because at that moment she had started to feel really alive. Her mind broke way for a piercing, and strangely addictive, clarity. Clarity so gooey, yet sharp, that it made her shudder and nod at herself. 'Yes. Yes!' She whispered to herself. She was so glad that she'd chosen to do this.

  As she stalked up the hill, her thoughts became even clearer. I won't even really need to say anything to Alex and Carla. They will just know too! We will all just know. They will look at me and know that we're all in this together. This is just part of the process of life! Alex will come home with me, Carla will understand and relinquish him with encouragement. Alex and I will be better than ever! Her eyesight changed from swimmy to hyper-focused like someone was adjusting a camera lens back and forth. As she discharged herself over the other side of the hill, the strange honeycomb of gentle lights of Carla's home that spread out before her were alluring.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The lights, Sophie realised as her pace slowed and she came closer, were small fires dotted in no particular pattern, flanking one large fire that had been considerately built. Logs leaning on one another, arching up towards the sky, sparks overlapping each other to get higher and higher. But the fires were not what Sophie noticed the most. Beside a large reflective shed were many white tents, surrounded by rocks and strings of flowers and herbs.

  Suddenly, Sophie's thoughts lost all their clarity and began to bang into one another, like people at a busy mall. The more she tried to focus on what she was seeing below her, the more it melted into a scene that felt simultaneously recognisable and strange.

  People and activity started to dance before her, tack piano tunes hit the air and floated away before the next one rolled on coupled with the chink of mallet on steel like an echoing metronome, keeping time for all that work to a perfunctory beat. There were ropes and more ropes that all sorts of garments hung off and flapped around like seals clapping, whip cracks and hollering and the brinny of a horse collided mid-air. Despite the dark, everything seemed cased in a giant spotlight which made the fires and oil lamps and lanterns that hung from trees seem to twinkle brighter. An insect buzz of applause circled around her and her chest warmed as she felt pulled towards the pleasant chaos of the circus that spread out before her.

  Hit with confusion, she touched her fingers to the dewy ground below her, trying to shake away the hallucination and root herself back into reality. And her mission to catch out Alex. But her fingers remained damp and the carnival stayed alive for a bit longer.

  But then the picture fell away with the clap of someone's hands and she looked directly into the eyes of a warm faced man in his sixties. Ankles bare, his terracotta linen pants flapped on his legs as he darted towards Sophie and widening his arms in a low V shape, at hip height, leaving her questioning whether he intended to hug or hold hands or nothing at all.

  'Hello there. This is a nice surprise,' the crinkle faced man said.

  Sophie's eyes bounced over each grubby tent and finally settled to the nuggety man in front of her. Standing a few metres behind him, was a smiling woman with a slight flush, a ruddy nose set against pale skin. Her smile was strongly curved but each eye looked as if pulled upwards by stage hooks.

  'I'm sorry to have crashed your camp. I'm actually looking for someone's house. I must have gotten lost,' Sophie confessed.

  'There are not many houses around here,' the man chuckled with his whole face. He had a rim of hair that swooped at the back of his head from ear to ear and his syrupy brown eyes didn't end. He had a fatherly energy that Sophie realised that she'd been missing her whole life.

  'Oh, I...' Sophie stopped short before she revealed herself to be following someone. Stalking someone? Was that what she was doing? Did that mean, Carla was camping with these people? Was Alex here too? Impossible. He absolutely despised camping. He wouldn't even step foot in a caravan, '...because of the smell...' he claimed.

  'Oh, you're so welcome here. You look cold. Come sit by the fire.' The way he spoke was tender and there was much humour in his eyes, backed up by traces of a speech impediment. He fluttered his hand enthusiastically, beckoning her to follow and perch on a well-worn stump by the fire. The silent, but sunny, woman behind him leant over her and wrapped a crocheted blanket around her shoulders. Sophie smiled in thanks and felt her toes and fingers slacken as she warmed up. The man placed his hands on her shoulders as he stood behind her. 'I'm Clive. This here is Everley. Would you like a tea or some water?'

  The question was so carefully polite that Sophie felt obliged. 'Tea, please. Herbal if you have it.'

  A cup of something spicy smelling swooped in front of her. Lemon and ginger. Her favourite.

  'Lemon and ginger is my favourite at the moment.' Sophie glinted her eyes at Clive and then at Everley's back, who had already darted away.

  'We know.' She thought Clive said as she fell into a crevice of headachey darkness.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  'Morningstar time! Morningstar time!'

  Sophie awoke to the chirrup around her but felt weighed down by stones and as if her entire skeleton had been replaced with iron overnight. A smile appeared near her half-open eyes. 'Morningstar is here. No need to move. Everything is okay. You might have a little headache. I have something for that, I'll give you in a bit.' Everley, with her cold-blushed flesh, was kneeling
beside her in the faint daylight. Sophie's neck stung as she twisted it slowly and tried to lift her heavy torso from the burlap sack she lay upon. Pressing her shoulders back down, Everley said, 'no need to get up yet, just lay a bit longer.'

  Sophie's hands scrambled around her body, touching the crocheted rugs that housed her, feeling her legs to notice she still had all her clothes from last night.

  'Oh sweetheart, no need to panic. You're safe. You must have passed out. Exhaustion, I'd say. My sister once had exhaustion so bad that she started to wet herself all the time and then when she went to lay down once, she couldn't get out of bed for six days! I had to bring her cereal all through the day and shove the spoon in, so she'd eat. She wasn't talking much. She was fine after all, though. Truly, she just needed a good long rest. Anyway, just rest. We'll look after you.' More smiles.

  'I should go home really. My car... I should see a doctor.' Or at least be home in my own bed if I'm suffering from some sort of exhaustion incident, Sophie thought.

  A fatigue collapse was not entirely unfeasible since she had scarcely slept in countless days. Sophie remembered then that yesterday (was it actually only yesterday?) she forgot to eat as she shivered outside Carla's office for the day. Annoyance rose up.

  'That's okay, we have a nurse onsite. She'll look after you until you feel well enough to get back to your car. Or we can drive you home. Have some water.'

  The water was a metallic slap on her tongue and she could finally open her eyes wide enough to look at the cherubic features before her. Never had there been a more comforting face and she passed back the anodised cup with gratitude, letting her hand linger a little on the warmth of her hand.

  'Good girl.' She tapped Sophie's knee, beamed stronger and turned away, pushing open two sheets of canvas which revealed a dim light of morning outside. Sophie looked around the compact tent she had found herself in. There was barely room for the two women but Sophie lay on a makeshift bed which was too narrow to roll over in and was capped with a significant pile of crocheted rugs. If she stretched her feet out, she would knock them over. The floor was concealed under a faded Persian rug that Sophie assumed lay flush against the dirt; the smell of fresh earth came at her. It was unusually cosy, the mass of the blankets and warmth had really settled in her bones and she realised that she was, in fact, utterly exhausted. It was taking effort to stay awake. If she was forced to run right at that second, she doubted her legs would even work.

  Despite being groggy, she is aware she had to get up and find Alex. Sensing hushed but present activity outside the tent, Sophie conjured her unwilling legs over the side of the bed, noticing the hardness as she pushed her palm into its side to help her movement. She patted down the side of her half numb thighs to find her phone but came up empty. Her hand swished beneath the blankets but still didn't find her phone. Shit, I must have left it in the car, she panicked.

  By the time she woozily forced herself outside the tent flaps, unsteady and precariously slow on her frozen legs, morning had definitely begun according to the clamour of birds that were celebrating in surround sound. Although she had detected some commotion in the camp, she had not prepared for what she saw.

  About a dozen women turned to her with wide smiles, each mid-task, with something in their hands. One was hanging out pieces of pallid fabric. One had an armful of firewood and another a small blackened copper saucepan which steam escaped from. And one petite woman was perched on a fire stump and was crocheting fast and hard, her eyes locked on Sophie. Each wore an off-white windcheater. Some paired it with matching tracksuit pants, some with claret coloured fishing pants or stretched out leggings. There were one or two jumpers that were obviously newer and some were stretched at the bottom or pushed up past their elbows so the material billowed out like gigot sleeves.

  Sophie trod carefully—as much as her heavy legs seemed to allow— and made an awkward 'ha' sound towards the closest woman. 'Did I crash a reunion or something?'

  Most of the women tittered around her in a circular echo. Like the birds, Sophie thought. 'Quite like that, yes. We are a "re"-union of sorts.'

  'I didn't mean to intrude! Thanks so much for looking after me last night. It's appreciated. I'll probably head to my car now and go straight to a hospital. Yes, I think that's best,' Sophie croaked without enthusiasm.

  'At least stay for breakfast? Jenny does a really good damper that you'll love! Assuming you're not vegan or anything?'

  Sophie tried to giggle but found that she couldn't. 'Not vegan.'

  'Well then! We'd love you to join us. It would also make us feel better knowing you are well enough to see yourself home.'

  Sophie sat down and smacked at her thighs trying to get some feeling back, whilst two of the women smile creepily at her. Even in the gentle sun, she couldn't get any proper feeling back in her legs.

  The sharp laugh of Clive from somewhere in the heart of the largest tent intruded and Sophie was reminded of Alex. Some breakfast would give her the strength to walk a little further— she must have been only off by a few hundred metres—and surprise Carla. And maybe Alex. She pictured Carla opening the door, her curly hair wound tighter around her face, a pair of flannelette pyjamas with some kitschy clouds or sheep on them, each button fastened. Complemented by fluffy slippers. Or was she the type to get up extra early and Sophie would greet her on the front stoop, stretching her hamstrings after her daily jog? Alex would be in the kitchen, dutifully making her coffee and absently looking out the window, wondering if he could surprise Carla with some morning sex. Sophie merely a memory that was leaving him more and more each day. The imagined scenes made Sophie's stomach feel like the smouldering coal that lay near her feet. So, she looked across to the woman who offered her a small bowl of food and nodded simply, as Everley came up and wrapped a blanket around her like a cape.

  The women were birds, swooping with their crocheted wings to sweep Sophie around, wherever they thought she should be. It had been a long time since anyone had taken Sophie under their wing and it was too enticing not to enjoy, if only for the morning. As she pulled the ends of the blanket towards each other to cover her chest, she noticed the jumpers of the women all had a black "X" printed on the front.

  Sophie listened to a single magpie warbling close by. The rolling gargle made her feel unhurried and despite herself, she dozed again as the women silently and diligently worked around her.

  Sophie came to, hearing the women of the camp stirring with pots clanging, laughter and benign chatter that all had its own saccharine cadence. A softness to the edge of their words that felt surreal. Like a meditation recording was playing on repeat. It felt like a tonic, compared to the harried noise of her mind recently.

  'Oh, you poor, poor thing,' concern washed Clive's face out and he lightly held Sophie's hand as he suddenly appeared in front of her again. His metallic breath swished around her.

  'You're okay, my dear. You've just had a bit of a spill. We're taking good care of you. You're going to be okay.' He sat down beside her and sipped his tea out of a vintage floral teacup, which looked oddly out of place there in the middle of the woods.

  The campsite in the clearing looked different during the afternoon, once the bleariness of the morning had worn off. It looked like a completely new world in the daylight. Stationed behind the ring of tents and pushed back all the way until it looked like it was part of the woods, was an enormous enclosed hay shed. It was wide enough to house two tractors, side by side and Sophie couldn't gauge how long it was from where she was sitting. There were no windows, no holes and no visible openings. The shed looked reasonably new and the shiny aluminium clashed against the weathered tents. It was hard not to look at and pulled focus away from other more intriguing sights, such as the raging bonfire and the collection of disjointed people that were dotted around the encampment.

  Clive emanated warmth, not just a temperature, but a kind of aura that felt like golden syrup. Despite herself, Sophie felt it permeate her every cell and her bo
dy begged her to surrender to a deep relaxation, like lying in the bursting sun on a cool day. If she was honest with herself, she'd say that it was the first time that she had ever felt taken care of and relaxed and there was something ever so appealing about the experience. However, there was another, more rigid, part of her mind that reminded her that these people were strangers and she was quite possibly very ill. Physically and mentally.

  ‘Do you have any idea when you can help me get back to my car?’ Sophie asked flatly.

  ‘We thought it best that our nurse check you out first and then we’ll walk you back to your car, if that’s okay? Just to be safe. She’s just returning from the city and should be back any minute.’

  It made sense to Sophie. So she relaxed a little and took in her surroundings properly. ‘What’s beyond here?’ She pointed in the direction of where she believed Carla’s house— and possible where Alex— was.