I Belong to the Earth (Unveiled Book 1)

by J. A. Ironside

  What to do? I ran my fingers back and forth, working on a tricky scale, hitting the keys harder than strictly necessary. I had no idea how Ciarán became part of the Pattern. It seemed that everyone I talked to about it got drawn in. I could go back to Mrs Cranford but she’d made it clear that without more information, she couldn’t do much to help me. And my information gathering wasn’t going well. Helen never showed me anything in sequence. Perhaps it was because time didn't mean the same thing to her. Like dropping a needle on a different point of the record each time.

  I changed keys and my fingers rippled up another scale. I wasn’t just practising. Helen wasn't interested in music. I hadn't banked on her setting up residence in my head and I didn't want her listening to every thought I had. I didn't like her very much. I certainly didn't trust her. The memories she showed me were true, I felt that. They just weren’t the whole story. I thought back. The first time I joined with Helen on the stairs, both she and Kate were grown up. At least by the standards of the time. Kate had had to make a choice. Between Robbie and Clayton, I assumed. Then the dream, Kate lying sick in a bed, dying, regretting marrying Clayton. Waiting for Robbie. That had to be near the end.

  That horrible episode with the sacrifice of the black hen, my hands…Helen's hands sticky with blood. That seemed to be the earliest memory. Kate wasn't quite twelve. Helen was fourteen. No question over who was in charge though.

  I hammered through another scale, thinking. Then Helen finding Kate and Robbie together on the moor. They had become lovers–that was clear. I could almost taste Helen's sour disapproval thinking about it. She'd meant to come between them or at least make sure they were separated. The flash of memory at Kate's grave just proved that. Kate accusing Helen of telling Reverend Weston about Kate and Robbie. Helen had separated them. But why? Helen might say it was merely duty and in Kate's interests all she liked but I didn't buy it. She wanted to take something away from Kate and not because she wanted Robbie herself. She hated him even more than she hated Kate.

  I broke off from playing, fingers going still mid-scale. Helen hated Kate. Admired her, wanted to be like her maybe. But most of all, really, truly hated her. Something nagged at my attention, something I'd missed. It just didn't add up. Should I feel more sorry for Helen, trapped here with people she hated?

  The image of the tombstone marking Kate's grave rose in my mind. There was something not quite right about it. Something off…Kate had attacked me, or rather Helen, but she had collapsed at the sight of the grave. I felt sick thinking of Kate squatting inside my sister. Grace had even started to move like her – lithe, graceful, no longer the stiff, jerky movements of a puppet. Grace was being squeezed out. I needed more time. I had to stop Haze from completing the substitution, which meant keeping her away from Haze. Something I’d failed at consistently so far. I couldn't do that alone. Time to take a leaf from Helen's book. I squirmed at the thought.

  And there was the question of the book, which was still missing. I had to ask Amy. She sounded harassed when I knocked on her door. Looking over her shoulder I saw books and papers spread everywhere. Homework, I guessed, and something that appeared to be an option form for which subjects she wanted to take as GCSEs. No wonder Amy was so distracted.

  “I…er…i-is th-this a b-b-bad time?” Stupid question.

  “It is a bit, Em. I’m supposed to hand in my subject choices next week and they’re trying to make me choose between chemistry and physics or just doing a combined science GCSE. I mean, seriously. Everyone knows that combined science just isn’t as good! I need to do both…” Amy’s rant trailed off into a wail of frustration.

  “Suh slow down. Tuh talk to your t-t-teacher. Muh maybe they can p-put you in w-with the yuh year above for kuh chemistry or something.” I shrugged. “N-no need to puh panic. Just juh GCSEs.”

  “Easy for you to say, you’ve already done yours. They’re the first major exams that give you a qualification. I want to do well and get A-levels and go to University. The good ones won’t take you without A-levels…”

  “Y-yeah. I know.” I grimaced, thinking of my own half completed A-levels. “L-look, Amy. This isn’t the e-end of the wuh world. You’re br-bright. You do well at sk-school. You’ll be f-fine.”

  “Really?” Amy said in a small voice.

  “Of c-course you will.” I ruffled her hair.

  Amy took a deep breath. “Okay, then.”

  “A-Amy did you borrow one of Mum’s b-books?”

  “Hmm?” Amy had already turned back to her clutter of papers. She wasn’t really listening. She wouldn’t have taken it without asking anyway. And she clearly had things on her mind.