Ill marry someday, but certainly not that charming fellow. Hes lovely in every way, but hes simply not mine.
Again, Mum appeared with her boyfriend, drunken and accompanied by another man whose face blurred impossibly, like hed been smudged into the dream itself. Eleanor perched herself in the shadowed nook behind the side table, feeling the press of frosted glass and dust.
There was nowhere to hide nowoutside, snow lay thick and silent down the lane. How utterly tired she felt of it all. In summer, shed finish her GCSEs and escape to the cityjust ten miles away, but a different universe. Shed enroll at the teaching college, become someone who mattered. Ill stay in the halls, she whispered, wrapping herself tighter in a threadbare blanket.
Mum and her visitors made themselves comfortable in the kitchen. Eleanors senses prickled: bubbling, pouring, the reek of cheap sausage. Her stomach growled, despite herself.
Hey, you! Mums voice sliced through the doorway.
What are you sulking for?
Theres two of us
Not the first time weve managed with two, Ben, Mums boyfriend, slurred.
A crasha plate shattered on the floor. Ambiguous noises tugged at the edges of Eleanors understanding. She curled up tighter in her corner, hoping if she shrunk small enough, shed vanish. Then, suddenly, all fell silent except the wind pressing at the panes.
Shes asleep, Ben muttered.
You said she’s a nice girl, but I cant get my head around her
Shes got a daughter, you know, came the other mans voice, which seemed too large for the tiny cottage.
A daughter?
Eleanor, old enough. Probably hiding in her room.
Fetch her in, then. Franks voice gleamed, predatory.
Ben stumbled in, grinning with an oily undertone. Come on, have a sit with us!
Im fine here, thanks.
Oh, dont be shy, Ben reached out to encircle her shoulders.
Eleanor grabbed the vase from the table and crashed it onto his head. Crystal shards splintered the dream, blood mingling with the chill of panic. She tore free, darted from the room as shouts followed, echoing strangely.
Grab her! someone shouted behind her.
She reached the front door, heart drumming. No time for shoesjust a pair of socks, ratty shorts, and a faded tee. She hurtled out into the snow, cold biting her ankles as shadowy men poured after, their shapes distorting as they ran.
The lane stretched away, deserted, moonlight warping the familiar cottages. Where to run? In a monstrous house as she passed, a dog barkedenormous, deep, echoing into her bones. Then a voice, scolding the animal, sharp, ringing.
Eleanor hammered at the gate. A man, somewhere about forty, opened it after a timeless moment.
Please she whispered, voice small with fear, gaze pleading.
Get in! He yanked her inside and slammed the door.
Simon, who is it? a woman called from the hallway.
The man gestured at Eleanor. Some fellas after her.
The woman, Frances, swept Eleanor away. Quickly! Come inside, you can tell us everything.
Eleanor, come here nicely! Ben called, voice twisting through the keyhole.
Simon, dont get involved! Frances shouted. Come inside, do!
From outside: more shouts, then the barkinglouder now, as if it was coming from beneath the earth.
We ought to ring the police, Frances murmured, flipping open her mobile.
No, Frances. Ill sort it out myself. Theyre clearly local.
How will you deal with them?
Nicely. Just calm her down.
Simon filled a carrier bag with a bottle and sliced some sausage, eyes darting dream-like.
He stroked the enormous hound in the yard, then strode outside. Ben lunged at him, shadows flickering strangely. Give us Eleanor!
Take this and be off! Simon handed over the food.
Ben peeked into the bag, broke into a silly smile, nodded to his mate. Lets go, Frank.
Inside, Frances put the kettle on, familiar British comfort filling the kitchen like a blanket. Sit down, dear. Tell us who you arewhats happened?
Im called Eleanor, she managed, hands trembling, teeth chattering from the cold. I live at the end of our street
Youre Kates girl?
Thats right.
We havent lived here long, but weve heard things about your mum already.
Eleanor hung her head. Tears, sharp as icicles, slid down her cheeks.
Frances took her gently, pressing her close. The gesture seemed impossibly tenderforeign, yet real. Eleanor clung to the woman, sobbing harder.
There, there, love. Youre safe now. Drink your tea.
Simon arrived back, calm. All sorted.
What shall we do with this lovely girl? Frances grinned unexpectedly at Eleanor.
Well sort all that tomorrow. For now, have some tea and a nice bath.
Hungry? Frances placed a mug in front of her, warm and sweet. She smiled kindly. I can see youre famished.
Sandwiches and leftover cake materialiseda surreal feast amid the swirling dream-kitchen.
Eat, love! Simon encouraged, watching her consume the food as if from a distance.
No more probing questionstheir kindness hung in the air, simple and unassuming.
When dinner ended, Frances led her to the bathroom. Wash up, love. Try on this dressing gownit should fit.
Eleanor wanted only one thing: to avoid being sent back out into the frozen night. She sank into the hot bath. The chill seemed to bleed away. But soon, she must emerge; the hosts would surely be waiting.
She found them together, seated in the loungeso warm, so normal, like a scene from someone elses life. A guilty smile crept onto her lips. Thank you.
Right, Eleanor Frances started, face gentle. No onell be searching for you, will they? You dont wish to go home, do you?
Eleanors head dipped low.
Tomorrow, Simon and I must leave early, Frances explained.
I understand, Eleanor whispered, almost bowing to hide her fear.
Youll be alone here, love. Dont open the door to anyone, alright? Our dog, Jack, wont let anyone in anyway. Do you understand?
Yes! Eleanor burst out, unable to restrain the gratitude.
If you like, you can make a stew while were gone. Simon smiled, his eyes crinkling. Are you any good?
YesI mean, Im good at cooking. And cleaning. I
Do what you can downstairs, if thats alright, Frances agreed.
She woke as the sun slipped through frosted windows. Lay still, heart thumping that shed be cast out, unwanted. The family car murmured in the yard, then left, silence stretching in its wake.
Eleanor rose, washed. The kitchen greeted her with British comfortshot kettle, bread, sausage, cheese. Pork ribs sat ready for the pot. She breakfasted, tidied, scrubbed, then swept every corner.
A hoover appeared in the corridor, like a gift from another world. She vacuumed, every sound sharp in the hush.
Shed just turned off the hoover when a voice jarred the morning.
And whats all this, then?
She spun round. A tall, handsome young man, maybe eighteen, brown eyes flickering with curiosity.
Im cleaning, Eleanor mumbled. Who are you?
The lad shook his head, as if bemused by the unreality, pulling out his phone.
Mum, I’m home. And whos this?
Shes going to stay with us a bit, son.
Fine by me. He pocketed the phone, looked Eleanor up and down, then strolled to the kitchen.
Would you like some tea? she offered.
Ill manage, he replied.
Eleanor packed away the hoover, wiping at the dust, listening to the kitchens every dreamy sound.
He breakfasted, then went for a shavethe smell of aftershave hung in the house, fresh and surreal.
From the garden, voices clashed against the quiet.
Oy, mate, bring another bottle! someone yelled through the fog.
What now? The young man looked out the window.
Dont open! Please! Eleanors panic spun out, dream logic taking hold.
He smiled oddly at her, then, curiosity unspooling, strolled to the door.
Eleanor ran to see. Mums boyfriend and his mate loomed by the fence, faces delirious with anger. She shivered.
The lad went outthose men lurched toward him, then, as if the snow itself swallowed them, both collapsed. Eleanor couldnt tell whether theyd fallen or been pulled down. The lad bent over, said something, and both men got up, shuffling off toward Eleanors mums house, heads low.
He returned, gaze falling on Eleanor, frozen by the window.
You scared? he asked, voice softer.
Not knowing what else to do, Eleanor buried her face against his chest and sobbed.
Whats your name? he asked, after a moment.
Eleanor.
Im Jamie. Its alright nowthey wont be back.
Jamie disappeared upstairs. Eleanor made the stew, sitting alone in the kitchen, thoughts circling oddly.
She longed to stay, to be surrounded by these decent people, yet knew her place wasnt really hereshed crossed invisible boundaries in English society.
The family returned. Frances nodded approvingly at the spotless home, Simon praised the stew.
I suppose I should go home, Eleanor said, already feeling herself slide away from comfort. Thank you for everything.
Stay with us a few more days, Eleanor!
Thank you, Frances, but Ill be going.
She stood by the door, hesitating. She wore Francess borrowed robe and slippersshe didnt even own her own clothes anymore.
Come on, lets get you sorted, Frances said, ushering her to the sitting room.
They opened the wardrobe; Frances eyed the contents, plucked out jeans, a jumper, a warm parka.
Try these. Were nearly the same height.
You shouldnt, I cant
You cant go home bare, love. It’s nothing, Frances insisted.
Eleanor dressed. The reflection in the mirror showed someone she didnt knowsomeone sturdy and hopeful.
In the hall, Frances made her wear a knitted hat and winter boots.
Take care, Eleanor!
Thank you, Frances!
Life rolled ona strange, textured reprieve. Her mum found work at a farm, the boyfriend vanished, taking his shadowy mate with him.
Spring arrived, gentle and weird. Eleanor hunched over her homework as someone knocked at the gate. Peering out, the world twistedthere was Jamie, nodding her out into the new sunlight, beckoning.
She raced, crashed through the dream toward him.
Hello! Jamie grinned.
Hello! Eleanor replied.
Mum wanted you for something.
Eleanor drifted back to their house, reliving the happiness of that surreal day.
Welcome, Eleanor! Frances greeted at the door, hugging her with the warmth of an English spring.
Hello, Frances!
Come have teaweve got things to discuss. They sat, mugs steaming, the unreal comfort spilling over.
Heres the thing, Frances began. Simon and I are off to Turkey for a monthfancy, I know! A dreamy smile flickered. Jamies around only rarely. Would you look after our house for us? Feed Jack and the cat, water the flowers. Theres loadsI’ve got all sorts.
Of course, Frances!
Lovely, Frances said, sliding her a wad of £200. Heretake this, youll need it.
Frances, you shouldnt
No fuss! Were not short. Now, let me show you everything!
Eleanor memorised the flowerpots and vases, the tins for the cat and meat for Jack. Frances called upstairs, Jamie! Introduce Eleanor to Jack, wont you?
Come on, Jamie said, hand light on her shoulder.
They led Jack through the paddock. Jamie talked about uni, about karate, about the family business with his dad. Eleanor thought about something entirely different.
She sensed as surely as one does in dreams: between her and Jamie yawned an unbridgeable gulf, just as there had always been between her mum and Jamies parents. Yes, they were kind and decentbut life wasnt anything like the fairy tales, and she certainly wasnt Cinderella.
In two months, Ill sit my college examsIll pass, I know it. Ill study, work, scramble, do whatever it takes, but Ill become somebody. She resolved: Someday Ill marry, but not that beautiful boy. Hes wonderful in every way, but he isnt mine.
She was grateful to Frances for the clothes, grateful for those £200 pounds, grateful shed have a foothold in the city to start new.
Something inside Eleanor knew: there, tucked in the crook of her arm, her difficult childhood had finally ended. Adulthood awaitedno less testing, but to be shaped by her own hands.
They reached the cottage. Eleanor stroked Jack beneath his ear, smiling at Jamie, and turned toward home. In a day, shed begin her work at the cottagejust work, nothing else.
