The Whispers of the Sprite (The Whispers Series #1)

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  I sigh, knowing that I can't keep suffering any longer.

  ‘When you opened the door, I knew that something wasn't right,’ she adds.

  I purse my lips, contemplating how to begin. It would be so much easier if I could tell her the truth, but I still have to lie.

  ‘It’s nothing worth talking about,’ I say. She folds her arms together and narrows her blue eyes.

  ‘I don’t believe you. Is this about a guy?’ she asks and I nod, turning off the running water. ‘Go on, I won’t judge you.’

  ‘It’s complicated and I’m not sure how to even explain this,’ I feel stupid talking about what’s happened between Gabriel and me. In my heart, I still have a massive hole that is filled with guilt and regret.

  ‘Start from the beginning,’ she advises me.

  ‘He is much older than me. We met when I was in the hospital, I didn’t think that I fancied him in the beginning until George showed up,’ I explain.

  Her jaw drops.

  ‘I thought you dumped George ages ago?’

  ‘Well, I thought that too, but he started calling me and visiting so I couldn’t say no to him, but after I found out that my mother suggested he should see me, I told him to go to hell.’

  ‘Your mother suggested it?’ she asks with disbelief. ‘How does she even know about you two?’

  ‘That's a good question.’ I am reluctant to say any more, but I continue, ‘When George left, I started seeing a new man but I don’t think he was serious. We had a fight before I came to London and I told him to go to hell too.’

  ‘How old is he? What’s his name?’

  ‘Mark and he is older, much older,’ I add, blushing slightly, making up the lies as I go along. Gosia brings up the most intimidating memories with Gabriel. She raises her eyebrows, trying to digest what I am going through.

  ‘Is he over thirty?’

  ‘He is older than thirty,’ I say, feeling more embarrassed.

  ‘Do you think you will see him when you go back to Swansea?’ she asks, still staring at me. I know she didn’t expect such an age gap, but I can't explain this any better. Gabriel is a different kind of man.

  ‘I don’t think that he will see me again after the drama that I created.’

  ‘If you want my advice, I suggest you find a guy in your age bracket. I was involved with an older guy once but he was too possessive, so I dumped him. He wanted to control every part of my life.’ Looking slightly agitated she added, ‘You should forget about this guy and move on.’

  ‘I am trying, but I think I have fallen for him,’ I whisper.

  Gosia spends the night on my bedroom floor. She didn’t want to be alone in her flat. I only have two more days in London myself before I pack everything and return to Wales. Somehow I feel relieved that I told Gosia about Gabriel even though I had to lie about certain aspects. She wouldn’t believe me and I didn't want to put Gabriel at any more risk.

  In the morning, I find a note from Mum, which informs me that she will be out all day. I don't have to guess where she has gone.

  ‘So do you think your Mum is finally sorting her life out?’ asks Gosia, laughing when I show her the note. She knows that I hate Mum’s overprotective character and she often has covered for me in the past.

  ‘It looks like it. She’s stopped calling me every five minutes,’ I explain, realising only now that Mum has stopped leaving me hundreds of missed calls on my mobile, which was always very embarrassing, especially when I was out with friends and my phone just didn't stop ringing.

  ‘He is a nice enough guy; I hope he is serious about her. Despite all her faults, Ania, she loves you very much.’

  ‘I know. Don’t worry, I will be watching him,’ I say and we start laughing.

  After a heavy breakfast, we decide to go for a walk and do a bit of window shopping. It is a gloomy, cloudy day and the rain is pouring from the sky. It is minus two degrees outside when we leave the house. Soon I won’t have any freedom – my life will be taken over by books and assignments, so I am trying to enjoy the time that I have with Gosia.

  We decide to brave the Tube, jumping onto the first available train. I haven't been shopping for a while whereas Gosia is always ahead of me with fashion trends. The familiar Sprite that followed me the other day appears on my left with another handsome, dark-haired fairy. I am trying to keep up with Gosia, who wants to enter every possible shop. The area that we end up in is somewhere in the north of London. The streets are hectic and I notice a lot more Sprites shadowing busy-looking people. Finally, it stops raining and we manage to get a few bargains.

  ‘I need coffee or maybe something stronger,’ says Gosia, winking at me.

  I have to agree with her; shopping is exhausting. We are just about walk into the coffee shop at the corner when I notice a familiar face on the other side of the street. It is the older lady from the restaurant that spoke to me on the stairs; she appears to be in a hurry and her silver hair is wet.

  ‘Ania, what are we waiting for?’ asks Gosia, looking annoyed.

  ‘Hold on, I know that woman across the street and I’ve got to ask her something,’ I start walking in her direction, trying not to lose her.

  ‘What woman?’ I hear Gosia say; I know that I have to speak to the older woman and find out what she meant in the restaurant and why she had been following me. After I cross the street, she disappears around the corner and I begin walking faster. Gosia stops asking questions as she struggles to keep up with my fast pace; the woman is walking quite quickly and it takes an effort to keep up, but after almost twenty minutes of intensive walking Gosia stops me abruptly by holding my arm. I manage to spot the woman as she walks into one of the shops.

  ‘What the hell, Ania? I am not going anywhere until you explain what’s going on.’

  ‘I promise I will, but I need to get to that shop across the road,’ I say, giving Gosia an apologetic look. She is not happy. When we cross the street, I finally realise that I have never been in this part of London. This area is definitely not populated by typical Londoners; instead I recognise a lot of people from Eastern Europe, and Romanian travellers. I lose sight of the woman and Gosia refuses to move any further. We are in the middle of an unknown street. I hesitate, wondering where I should go next.

  ‘We shouldn't be here and you have to explain to me why you are running after someone who you don’t know,’ says Gosia, looking around uncertainly. I ignore her and look at the window of the shop in front of me; I can't see anything inside. Moreover, the sign on the door clearly says that the shop is closed. I bite my lip, hesitating for a long while. I take a deep breath and say:

  ‘I’m going in.’

  ‘What? Where?’

  I walk to the door of the shop, ignoring her, and push the door and my intuition is right – the door isn't locked.

  Gosia doesn't say anything, but I can hear that her breathing quickens while we enter the small shop immersed in darkness. The windows are shaded with dark curtains and the whole place is cluttered. The wall to the right is filled with books, and there are many mysterious-looking figures lying on the floor. It is definitely a real shop; the products that I can't name have price tags on them. I have to stop breathing for a moment because various different aromas are irritating my nose.

  ‘What is wrong with you, Ania? The shop is closed,’ whispers Gosia, trying to push me back toward the street.

  ‘I just want to talk to her,’ I whisper back. Then we hear movement in the back of the store and a short dark-haired woman appears, staring at us with an angry expression on her face.

  ‘Excuse me,’ I begin, pressing my lips together nervously. ‘I am looking for a woman who came in here a few minutes ago.’

  The woman walks closer, gazing from Gosia to me. She has dark-brown eyes and long black hair; her skin is much darker than mine. She is wearing a long, colourful skirt and red top. I assume that she is a Romanian traveller but I don't want to say anything right now; she doesn't look happy that we are insid
e.

  ‘Can’t you read the sign on the door?’ she snaps, coming closer to me. I don't move, but Gosia grabs my arm and begins squeezing it desperately. I smile even though she is showing me that I am not welcome.

  ‘Yes, I did. I’m sorry, a woman that I know came in here a few minutes ago,’ I continue, slowly losing confidence. Her dark eyes are hypnotising.

  ‘There isn't anyone here apart from me.’

  ‘OK, I made a mistake, I’m sorry,’ I reply, defeated, and I am just about to move back and leave. My heart is beating like crazy and I realise I’m not sure that whatever I saw actually happened.

  ‘I can read your fortune from the cards,’ she adds unexpectedly, and I freeze once again. Gosia is almost by the door; her eyes are screaming no but I am curious; no one has ever offered me a tarot reading. I expect that it wouldn't cost me a significant amount of money. Anyway, I just barged into this woman’s shop knowing that it was closed.

  ‘Yes, why not?’ I say slowly.

  ‘Ania, I think we should go back,’ snaps Gosia but I ignore her. My mind is blank while I walk toward the back of the shop; Gosia follows as we get to a thick dark curtain that separates the entrance from the other part of the shop.

  ‘Your friend has to stay here. You follow me.’

  She shoots Gosia an odd look. I try to give my best friend an apologetic glance before vanishing under the curtain. Gosia looks stunned.

  ‘My name is Herne. Sit down so we can start the reading,’ she says, showing me a small chair in the corner. In front of me, there is a table and another chair. I am feeling dizzy and nervous. I am not sure what to expect. Herne sits down opposite me; she lights a candle and closes her eyes, shuffling the cards. I swallow hard, trying to think positive thoughts and at the same time wondering why I agreed to do this.

  ‘The cards will reveal the truth about your worry.’

  Herne continues to shuffle the cards. After a few more seconds, she places the cards on the table and begins turning them over one by one. My throat is dry and I am unable to speak. My heart hammers in my chest. Her wide dark eyes narrow while she is staring at the cards.

  ‘What can you see?’ I ask, finally able to find my words.

  ‘Death is close,’ she says and lifts her eyes to look at me. ‘I can see her in the cards. You escaped, but she is watching and waiting for another opportunity.’ I am trying to analyse everything she is saying, but nothing makes much sense.

  ‘Who is watching?’

  ‘Death is still with you but there is someone else that also wants your power. Someone that is bound to your desire wants to possess your power. You will be travelling very soon.’ I am confused; I am not sure what ‘power’ she means.

  ‘I don't understand,’ I say, feeling that I might have made a mistake coming here and agreeing to this reading.

  ‘The man that you love is weak. He is unable to decide if his feelings are real,’ she continues. I freeze, knowing who she is talking about. I hold my breath, waiting to hear more.

  ‘The situation will change; you will lose what you value the most.’

  ‘So does he love me?’ I ask, hoping that she could tell me more about Gabriel.

  ‘He is torn between two souls. The feelings he has for you are new for him, he doesn't understand them,’ she says touching my hand. My eyes feel heavy and an unfamiliar pain spreads around my chest. My mind is not coping well with everything that she has said. I desperately want to leave. I feel like I am going to vomit.

  ‘I’m sorry but I’ve got to go,’ I snap, getting up. She grabs my hand.

  ‘He is afraid of those feelings, but you will lose what you value the most. Remember this.’

  She frees my hand and I leave the room with my heart thumping. Gosia is still waiting for me in the shop, looking at her watch. She looks angry when she notices me.

  ‘Ania, what's wrong?’

  ‘I need to get some fresh air,’ I say and we leave the shop as quickly as we came. I am not sure what happened with the woman, once outside, I bend over and violently throw up. After few minutes, I take a deep breath, trying to keep my balance; Gosia is panicking while holding my hair.

  ‘What did she do to you?’ she keeps asking.

  ‘It's the smell in the shop,’ I explain, trying to convince myself that it was the smell that made me sick and not what Herne said about Gabriel and his feelings.

  11

  Gosia is silent and doesn't say anything until we get home late that afternoon. The part of London that we ended up in looked dangerous. I slowly began to wonder if the mysterious woman was ever really there or she was a figment of my imagination.

  Fortunately for me, Mum isn't at home so I don't have to explain why I am looking so pale and why my clothes are covered in vomit.

  ‘Right, what exactly is going on with you?’ asks Gosia when I come back from the bathroom. She is angry, I can sense it in her tone.

  ‘I felt dizzy when she lit the candle,’ I explain but she knows that isn't the truth.

  ‘First, you run like crazy after some woman that you apparently know and then you decide to have a tarot reading that makes you sick. Who was she?’

  ‘I met her in the restaurant, I told you. I think she is Russian, so I just wanted to ask her something,’ I say, trying to convince her to believe me but she isn't stupid enough to fall for this.

  ‘I don't understand any of this and I don't believe you.’

  She walks off, disappearing upstairs. She is right not to believe me. I have to sit down to enable myself to understand what just happened. You will lose whatever you value the most. Herne was right, Gabriel is confused about his feelings but some of her predictions are wrong. I feel as if I have already lost him. She was right about him and that's what made me sick; the truth is that we haven't got a future together. The older woman who I followed could be an answer to it all. I have to think about this logically.

  ‘That's me ready to go back to my flat and my grumpy roommate,’ says Gosia, when I walk with her to my car.

  I’ve offered to drive her down to her place, so she doesn't have to take a taxi. Somehow her anger has faded away. She has forgotten the incident that occurred earlier after I assured her that she doesn't have to worry about me. She finally stopped asking me questions that I am unable to answer. We relaxed for the rest of the evening on my sofa and talked about our other close friends who are currently abroad. After arriving at her flat, I park the car and help her carry her the presents that she got from me and mum.

  ‘I’ll miss you. I will try to keep in touch more often,’ I say.

  ‘Please avoid trouble. I don’t know what's going on with you, but I hope you will tell me everything when you are ready.’

  ‘Don't worry about me. I expect you to visit me soon so I can give you the tour around Swansea,’ I say, trying to avoid the awkward subject that we have already gone through. She gives me one more hug and leaves, wishing me good luck – I am not sure why. Her Sprite stares at me for a long moment, wondering what is going on between us. While going back to my car I see a student from the party that landed Amy in. I hesitate for a moment. He is probably going back to Swansea; Gosia’s flat is near the station, and he’s looking impatient. I already tried talking to Amy about that night, but she seemed to have wiped all the memories out of her head so I gave up in the end. I decide to walk to him and ask him a few questions.

  ‘Hey, do you remember me?’ He looks uncertain at first but after few seconds his expression tells me that he does and he is not pleased about me being here.

  ‘Yes, you are a friend of Amy,’ he says with that strong French accent. He is much shorter than me with green eyes and mousy hair.

  ‘I have been meaning to ask about that party,’ I begin.

  ‘I need to get to the station quickly. I have no time to talk about that,’ he adds, avoiding looking at me.

  ‘So, have you been in France for Christmas? I never had a chance to find out your name,’ I ask, trying to chang
e the subject.

  ‘Yes, I visited my family in Marseille,’ he says. ‘I am Pierre, by the way.’

  ‘I am Ania.’

  I hesitating whether I should continue asking him about the subject that he doesn't want to talk about, but I am worried about Amy so I press on. ‘Listen, I need to know what really happened at that party. I know you saw it,’ I say. He stares at me for a long while, and his eyes narrow.

  ‘What difference does it make? The girl is all right,’ he says quickly. I don't intend on giving up and decide I need to be firmer with him.

  ‘I remember what you told me at the party about a man that pushed Amy over and I know you didn’t mention it to the police – so do you want me to tell them that you gave them a false statement?’ I say in a more serious tone. He steps back, slightly staring at me with fear in his eyes.