“May I ask what kind of law enforcement agency you work for?” Dane’s voice now held a touch of controlled fury and Claudia cringed, pressing her shoulder into Brishan’s.
The tall man laughed. “One that ensures the community is purged of trash, when needed.”
How dare he. Claudia stood; unfamiliar, white hot anger surging with strength through her veins. This is my land and these men have no right to say such things.
“It is you, who has no right to be here.” Where the strong, even voice came from, she had no idea, but she felt it leave her throat before thought or reason entered her mind.
“Claudia, please, sit down,” Oriana stage-whispered.
“Ah, the famous gypsy spirit, in the body of a girl-child,” the tall man said, stalking towards her with a smirk twisting his face. “Is this who fights your battles, then?” He turned back to look at Dane, before leaning down so that his nose almost touched hers and his foul breath burned her cheeks.
She felt a strong grip on her shoulder as Brishan stood and pushed her behind him, firmly keeping hold of her arm.
“Come any closer to her and you will not be leaving with your head on your shoulders.” His voice was little more than a husky growl, but the force behind his words oozed menace.
The tall man stepped back, almost falling in his haste to remove himself from Brishan’s glare.
“I think perhaps it’s time for you to leave.” Dane signalled to the road beyond with his hand, as the other men of the gypsy camp began to walk towards the trio.
“This is not the last time you’ll see us, if you choose to stay,” the tall man called, from a safe distance up the hill.
Dane, Brishan and Eamon remained in a straight, still line, watching until they heard the powerful engine of a car roar into life and fade into the distance. Claudia, still standing, felt tears drip down her nose. She sniffed, loudly. Dane turned and stared at her for a long moment, his eyes glassy as they searched her own.
He opened his arms and walked towards her. She flung the scarf from her head and rushed into his chest, squashing her face on his shoulder and hiccupping in her desperate need to stop her tears.
“You, precious one, are so brave. Reckless. But very brave,” he said into her ear as he smothered her cheek in kisses. “You have no need to defend us, although I admire you for it. I won’t have you put in any danger for befriending us.”
She pulled her head out from under Dane’s arm and glanced over his shoulder. Brishan faced her, arms folded across his chest, lips in a straight, thin line. He’s angry with me. I shouldn’t have interfered.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered into Dane’s ear, while looking directly at Brishan.
“Never be sorry for standing up for yourself, or for what you believe in. It’s a rare gift, such bravery. We may have to make you an honorary gypsy.” Dane chuckled and led her back to the table, where everyone had recommenced eating and talking amongst themselves, although more quietly than before.
The day passed under a grey cloud, despite their best efforts to ignore the storm threatening to erupt around them. Claudia helped Oriana with normal chores, washing and preparing food and rounding up the children for baths and naps along with the other women. The wagons were equipped with compact toilets and showers and portable generators for heat. The fully self-contained world on wheels consumed every fibre of her being until the morning’s episode faded when compared to her new world.
Every so often, Brishan appeared at her side, strangely quiet but always smiling and playfully caressing her face, in between his lessons and rehearsals. Dane had disappeared into the forest beyond the valley, riding away on Zeus, smiling at her as he galloped off. Oriana said he went to commune with the trees and Claudia had laughed, not knowing what that meant, but liking the sound of it.
Too soon, Lenny came, the poor man still shaken from the morning’s episode and looking like he wanted to hug her. She threw caution to the wind and wrapped her arms around his skinny frame, laughing when she felt him tentatively hug her back.
Dane returned and they stood in a line, Dane, Oriana and Brishan, waving at her as she trudged home, her heart heavy with yearning for them before they were even out of sight.
Two days later, as Lenny and Claudia made their way to camp, she could see, from a distance, clothes and blankets being pummelled by chattering women and rubbish, propelled from inside the mobile homes, clattering into large metal bins. Is this a gypsy version of housekeeping?
Mr Campbell was due back the next day and, though she blessed each day of his absence, she now broke out in a cold sweat whenever she thought about what his return would mean. Helping the gypsies with the work will get my mind off it…
On the steps of his wagon, Dane polished his long, black show boots. “Good morning, friends, how are you both today?” He smiled, winking at the same time and Claudia felt her cheeks warm with pleasure.
She smiled back. “What’s everyone doing? You all look so busy.”
Briefly, Dane glanced at Lenny before reaching for her hand. She sat down beside him on the wooden step and let him wrap his arm around her shoulder. His fingers smelled of shoe polish and their calloused tips stroked her arm.
“Sweet one, you know we’ve all grown very fond of you, don’t you?”
Claudia nodded, feeling the now familiar happiness filling her heart.
“You have much to learn from us and the day will come when that will be possible.”
Again, Claudia nodded. What have I done to deserve such a wonderful speech? Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Brishan sprinting towards them.
“Wow! Today you truly are a fairy princess!” Through great gulps of air, Brishan tried to whistle as his eyes scanned her body.
Claudia’s stomach churned and she couldn’t resist smiling at the compliment. She’d been trying on all the dresses in her cupboard and today she wore a red one that highlighted her dark hair.
“Have you told her yet?” Brishan glanced at Dane, his jaw clenching as his hands raked through his tousled, black hair.
“Told me what?”
“Claudia, sweet one, to tell you this hurts me as much as it may hurt you, for reasons you don’t yet know.” Dane breathed in deeply. “Do you remember when I told you the meaning of ‘gypsy’? We are wanderers. We must travel to earn our living…and we’ve put you in danger here. We must leave Claudia…and we must leave tonight.”
Chapter Four
Moon Shadows
The blood swirling in the bath water looked like thin, fractured red ribbons. Claudia stared at it as her face grew cold with sweat. The hideous substance had been on her bed sheets too. Her private parts were leaking and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
“Are you finished with that bath yet, Miss Claudia? You’ve been in there for an hour.” Margaret stood outside the door for the second time, her yelling muffled by the heavy wood. The housekeeper obviously wanted to start her day and probably wouldn’t leave her alone until she’d given her breakfast.
What to do? What to do? I can’t…I don’t want her in here. Stupid. Just ask her. Can’t deal with this anymore on my own.
“Margaret…could you…could you come in? Please.” Claudia cringed at the thought of Margaret seeing her in the bath, but her throat was closing and tears threatened to destroy her vision completely. Besides, her body felt so leaden now it wouldn’t move, even when she tried.
“What is it? Heavens above, you’re getting slower as you get older. You should be getting more organised, I’ve never…” Margaret stopped still when she saw the deep red water. “What have you done child, cut yourself?” The housekeeper shrieked, picking Claudia up under her arms and hauling her out of the tub.
“No, Margaret, it’s…it’s coming from…” Claudia glanced down and Margaret’s eyes followed.
“Oh good Lord have mercy on me. So it’s finally come. Don’t cry about it, child, it happens to all of us. Dear me, I can’t be calling you child anymo
re then, can I? Didn’t you read that book I gave you? The one your mother sent?”
“Yes.” Claudia gnawed at her bottom lip to keep the building hysteria at bay.
“Well, you’re growing up, just like the book said. Here, towel yourself off. Your mother has sent you things to deal with this. You remember when I showed you? Must be two years ago now. You’re definitely a late bloomer.” The housekeeper washed and dried her hands, then searched inside the glass-walled cabinet above the basin.
Claudia hadn’t really understood the book about human growth and reproduction and remembered growing bored with it before she’d finished. She’d had thousands of questions, all of which Margaret and Mr Campbell had simply refused to answer. She’d had no idea the impact on herself would be so brutal.
Margaret handed her a box with pretty pink flowers drawn over its shiny white surface. “Put one of these on, inside your underwear. When it needs changing, just wrap it in toilet paper and put it in the bin.” Margaret sounded very business-like now, despite her red cheeks.
Claudia’s hands fumbled with the plastic coating on the box. Margaret still stared at her and the housekeeper’s eyes glistened: suspiciously red. One of her wrinkly hands reached towards Claudia’s face, but dropped quickly to its regular resting place on her chest to fiddle with the necklace there. Claudia bit her lip again and drew a shaky breath, her body moving closer to Margaret’s — but the housekeeper had already turned away.
She sniffed and wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then opened the box to reveal rectangular pieces of something like cotton, covered in gauze. They look like fat paper planes. Her tears found their way down her chest, trickling over her stomach.
Claudia stiffened her shoulders, drew a deep breath and shuddered as she peeled the plastic strip from the back of a pad. I can do this. It’s not so hard… Even the words inside her head trembled and faded within her fear.
But, after a few attempts, she had the pad in place. She dressed herself and tried to leave the bathroom so Margaret could come back in and clean. The awful thing between her legs rubbed against her thighs and felt so bulky and awkward she didn’t know how she’d be able to walk around all day.
“You may spend the day in the library, Miss Claudia. I’ll inform Mr Campbell that you’re unwell.”
“But—”
“It’ll be all right, Claudia. We all go through it. Chin up now.” Margaret pursed her lips, raising her arms again as if to draw Claudia in for a hug.
Claudia held her breath, desperate for contact, for comfort. But, already, the housekeeper had lowered her head, moving out of the room, mumbling about meeting in the kitchen for breakfast.
The tears blurred her vision again and she fought the temptation to lie down in bed to sleep and block out the traumatic morning. How long would it continue, this horrible intruder attacking her body? She did her best to walk downstairs without appearing as if she had the ‘thing’ hidden between her legs.
Her sixteenth birthday was almost upon her and presents had started to arrive from London. Each day more and more boxes piled high in the hallway, all addressed to her. She could only imagine the jewellery, shoes and dresses; all useless objects bought to fake a love that didn’t exist.
And now, no love existed at all. Not without the gypsies. Oh, Lenny visited, when he could, and still took her down to the lake in secret, late in the afternoon while Margaret and Mr Campbell were busy in their own quarters before tea. Daily, almost every minute, her mind travelled back to that awful morning, six months ago, when the gypsies had prepared to leave. Back to her tears and the pained expression on Dane’s face. To Brishan’s jaw, tightly clenched like the white knuckled fists at his side, and to Oriana’s tearful hugs. They had promised to return soon, promised on the very souls of their ancestors. Whatever that meant.
Every day, she stared out the schoolroom window, hoping to see the first wagons arrive, pining for a glimpse of Brishan’s emerald eyes.
Still, much had changed.
The mirror in the hall showed a different girl from the child Claudia had been mere months ago. Now, she always wore new clothes from her abundant collection. Today, she’d chosen an ankle length, dusky pink skirt that swished around her legs as she walked. A tight, white knitted top hugged the breasts that had appeared, Claudia felt, out of nowhere, and her hair, which Margaret had recently cut, rested mid-back in cascading black waves.
Her parents had finally sent orders that Claudia was to take proper horse riding lessons and learn to play social sports; badminton and croquet so far. Claudia only cared that she was finally allowed outside more often. So, a horse was purchased for her sole use and Mr Campbell was charged with teaching her how to ride. The horse was a white Kladruber, a very rare horse and much too large for Claudia. Mr Campbell said the breed was virtually a national treasure in the Czech Republic, so that’s why her father had requested the purchase of one. The poor thing was an investment.
Each Saturday, Pavle, a groomsman from the stables at a nearby property would walk the horse to the front of the chateau, and Claudia was led round in a circle while Mr Campbell shouted out instructions pertaining to her own posture and head position. The novelty wore off quickly. Claudia only ached to gallop across the hills towards freedom.
She was permitted time in the sun to read each day, Spotty curled up neatly at her feet. She was even allowed to stroll around the border of the chateau, providing she stayed close to the household gardens and didn’t go towards the road at the front, or the valley at the back. Mr Campbell and Margaret still watched her closely, although their passion for containing her lessened.
But, there would be no horse riding today. Her terrible infliction had even forced Margaret to cancel her other lessons. Perhaps Mr Campbell thought ‘growing up’ was contagious. She hoped it didn’t last much longer; her lower stomach cramped, as if protesting the loss of the dirty coloured blood and breakfast tasted bland, even though Margaret treated her to bacon and eggs. At least Snow-White and Rose-Red snuggled into her sides, watching as she ate, their little legs floating up in the air and their giggles ringing out like wind chimes.
“What should we do today?” Claudia looked at them both, willing them to talk. Silence.
“Perhaps we could catch a plane to…let’s think…Morocco. Yes, we can eat in the outdoor markets and buy lanterns and maybe take a camel ride in the dessert.” Just like in the pictures of her new book, the one Margaret had bought for her with pages full of travel photos.
More silence.
She bit her lip. Her chest tightened and she breathed in through her nose while one, stupid tear landed on the corner of her mouth. She tasted its saltiness with the tip of her tongue and, head down, wandered into the library.
That night, she changed the dirty ‘thing’ between her legs and put it in the rubbish for Margaret to get rid of. She couldn’t believe the blood that still flowed out of her and when she crawled into bed, she had to lie flat on her back to keep the pad in position. Margaret would be angry if she soiled the sheets again.
Sleep wouldn’t come, but the gatekeeper did. He pushed open her bedroom door and smirked, his eyes narrow and his pace slow and laboured. Her voice froze in her throat and she stiffened her body to stop the instinct to fight. She glanced at Spotty, asleep in the corner, unaware of the terrible danger he was in. The gatekeeper followed her gaze and focused on the cat for long, silent seconds, before kicking him roughly out the door.
Claudia caught the sheet tight under her chin as the gatekeeper crawled onto the bed, weighing it down and tearing the sheet away to expose the top of her white nightgown. Tears splashed over her nose as his fleshy fingers fumbled with the buttons. Sobs escaped as her newly formed breasts were exposed to the cool night air. It was a new game and he liked to play weekly, at least.
He kneaded her breasts as she’d seen Margaret manipulate dough for bread. Tonight they were extra sensitive and pain shot through her when the fat fingers grazed her nipples. H
is moves were seared into her brain and as he started to lift her nightgown, she squeezed her legs together tightly, not knowing what he’d do when he saw the disgusting pad.
“What’s this? You know what happens if you resist me, girly,” he hissed, pulling her thighs apart with force. Claudia clamped her hands over her face. Long moments passed and the sound of his breath rattling in his throat was the only sound in the world.
“So, it has come,” he said at last.
She peered through her fingers and saw his hands reach for each other, rubbing together until the fat knuckles cracked.
“Now the fun can really begin. But not tonight; soon when you’re finished and fully turned into a woman.” He hauled himself back off the bed to return to the servant’s quarters, still rubbing his hands as if he’d been handed a grand prize.
Claudia rolled over on her side, curling into the foetal position, forgetting about the mess she might make of the sheets. Her whole body shook with rasping sobs. She almost wished Spotty would die so the gatekeeper couldn’t threaten her any longer. No, can’t think such things. Evil. Spotty was all she had, the only living being that showed her any love or affection, apart from Lenny. Her confusion turned into frustration and it all added to the terrifying, reoccurring nightmare she was trapped in.
Morning came and Claudia could barely get out of bed. A thumping headache matched the cramping in her stomach. Her back ached and she wanted to cry just thinking about the boring day ahead — the 1st of June and her sixteenth birthday. Even Snow-White and Rose-Red, peeping over the covers with round, green eyes, couldn’t coax a smile from her. She stumbled down to the kitchen, hoping breakfast would ease the cramping.
The back door slammed shut and Claudia turned as she heard hurried footsteps.
“You’ll never believe it, Miss.”
“Believe what, Lenny?” Claudia stared at the gardener, noticing his flushed face and his thin lips curving in a wide smile.
Gypsy Trail Page 6
