Dorman Lost Children

1. Auflage 2018
ISBN: 661-000010047-7
Verlag: Ba en Ast Books
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 120 Seiten

A class outing to a botanical garden goes horribly wrong; a vampire survives the zombiepocalypse in the Mother City; a woman confronts a child's ghost in an empty house-these are but a few of Nerine Dorman's stories that have drifted between the cracks and lodged themselves in dusty corners.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Dorman, Nerine

Leseproben

I rose and walked across the room so I could lean over the open half-door into the yard. A stranger stood by the pump – a man dressed in a dusty leather coat, his wide-brimmed hat obscuring his features as he patted Missy. The traitorous dog’s tail wagged. “Can I help you?” I called, and tried to keep my voice from wobbling. We so very rarely received visitors of any kind. Our holding was at the top of the valley, and the wain trail ended by us. Even the mule drivers preferred the shortcut across the next glen from ours. My unexpected visitor looked up and smiled. “Sorry to be a bother, ma’am, but I was wondering if I might trouble you for a drink of water.” A flash of even white teeth greeted me. The knobkerrie was reassuringly close, but the man did not look like trouble. I estimated him to be around my age, about twenty summers, and about my height. We’d be evenly matched if there was trouble, but his face was without guile. His skin was the colour of caramel, and he wore his dark blond hair loose and long – brushing his shoulders. A beautiful man. How could he hurt me in any way? The dog licked his hand. No trouble then. Right? I was staring and my face grew warm. “Just hang on a minute,” I called, going over to the kitchen table to fetch the pitcher. He must be thirsty, and it was hot out, though it was only early spring. “Here, hold this,” I told him. Our fingers brushed as he took the pitcher, and held it as I indicated over the outlet. He watched me with a curious gaze while I worked the pump a few times. Air spluttered wetly and the pipe gurgled, then cold, clear water splashed into the pitcher. Any other time I’d have stayed at my door and let the visitor help himself, but four days without another soul to speak to made me hunger for company. Even if that soul was a taciturn husband. No trouble at all with this visitor. Missy sat at his feet, expectant. My stranger drank down deep gulps, and water spilled down his cheeks and ran down his neck where the vertebrae of some snake formed a necklace. Strange. The gap in the rusty fabric of his shirt revealed a smooth chest, and I couldn’t help but compare this slight man to Matthys – broad of shoulder, dull, resentful glares. You don’t walk among enough people, Eva. “Many thanks, fair lady,” he said. “I have travelled far, and it is good to find another person who’ll treat me kindly.” I couldn’t place his accent – neither north-wester or southern, and he enunciated his words carefully. “I’m hardly a lady,” I said with a laugh. “A humble goodwife.” “You are a fair lady to me, and a sight for sore eyes after half a month in the wilderness.” He handed the pitcher back to me then swept off his hat and executed a deep bow. “Allow me to introduce myself. Jonny Copper at your service, forever indebted to the lady of this most welcome farmstead standing ’pon the boundary between the wilds of the Black Cypress mountains and the good, scripture-fearin’ folk of New Dell.” I giggled. I couldn’t help myself, and pressed the fingers of my left hand to my lips. No one spoke so irreverently here, and while I might’ve held unworthy thoughts, I’d never had the gall to say them out loud. Matthys would never approve. “It’s the truth, I tell you,” Jonny said. “And now that you have my name, I feel that it is fair payment that I learn yours. And don’t tell me your husband told you never to speak to strangers.” How impertinent of him. To cover my discomfort, I drew more water that I’d take into the cabin. “I don’t see why I should tell you.” I couldn’t quite hide my smile, however. Yes, Master Copper made me uncomfortable, but he was so at ease with himself, at ease with me; I couldn’t help but take a shine to him. “My name is Eva.” “Just Eva?” he asked. “Eva Hout. But my mother was a Suidkaper, married a Hoorn. Farmers.” Jonny Copper whistled. “Your bones belong to the earth.” What a strange thing to say. “And you?” He smiled. “I blew in with a dust devil and a brace of tumbleweeds.” “Your accent. I can’t place it.” “You’re not meant to. I’m from everywhere and nowhere.” His smile revealed small, even teeth. I couldn’t help but wonder what they’d feel like biting my flesh. I gazed out, over the veld so I wouldn’t make eye contact with him, but that didn’t stop him from regarding me. “I am about to prepare dinner. You are welcome to my table.” The words were out of my mouth before I had a chance to consider them, and I walked briskly to my dwelling without looking back. What possessed me? Was it not enough that I’d gone to speak to a strange man who’d appeared in our front yard? Matthys could return at any moment to find Jonny Copper here, and then what? But part of me was reckless. I think I wanted Matthys to arrive. I wanted that confrontation. Better that, than the eternal stagnation in which we found ourselves – or so I could tell myself. Jonny Copper followed me into the house and dumped his coat, hat and duffel bag on the floor by the door. He seated himself by the table, and I shifted my sewing things then laid down a tin plate and mug. The coffee didn’t take long to heat, and I busied myself in the kitchen putting more wood on the fire and preparing a simple meal of smoked venison and toasted farm bread with pickled onions. Jonny watched my movements with bright eyes. “You are lonely here while your husband is away. You have no young ones?” My hackles were up in an instant and I stopped my preparations so I could glare at him. Of all the sore teeth to poke at, this was one I’d prefer to avoid. “What’s it to you?” I didn’t want to be reminded of the four small graves beneath the lightning-struck oak. He shrugged. “Merely an observation. Most women in your situation would have at least two or three by now.” “I can’t conceive.” Not exactly a lie. I hadn’t conceived in more than a year. Not after the last miscarriage. Perhaps that’s why I was so reckless now, inviting a man into my house in the vain hope of what? That he’d touch me with tenderness? Jonny Copper was a comely man in his ragtag way. Quick hands. Youthful features. What would he see in a somewhat drab goodwife? Yet a woman could hope, could she not? Or perhaps I was being a fool hankering after romantic dreams of fairy princes astride moon-grey chargers come to whisk me away from a lifetime of drudgery. If anything, this would be a mere flirtation with something I could never have. Tomorrow Jonny Copper would be gone. I’d wake to Matthys’s midnight fumblings, his huffing, sweating body as he groped and pawed blindly at my flesh. “Oh,” Jonny said to me, and I had to take pause for a moment to snatch at our discussion. “I am most sorry to hear that.” “It is no problem. You learn to get by.” No one to inherit the holding from Matthys, no son to continue his name. Of course it was a problem – a big one. Not that we could do anything about it. We’d adopt eventually. I watched him eat while I pretended to be busy with my mending. Jonny was intent on his meal, and devoured his food like a man who’d starved for months. Every once in a while I’d glance at the window, but the yard remained resolutely empty. An entire afternoon stretched ahead of me. The moon was almost full, and would be up a few hours after sunset. Knowing Matthys, he’d wait for moonrise then return. There’d be more than enough light to follow the track home. Why was I considering all these things? Because the years had taught me? Because I hoped for something more from this stranger seated in my husband’s chair. Jonny pushed the plate aside. “You’re not eating.” “I’m not hungry,” I replied. “Your eyes tell a different story.” “It is no business of yours, Master Copper,” I told him. “I would offer coin to pay for this meal, but have none. Therefore I would offer other currency, and perhaps sate your hunger.” I snorted my surprise and shoved back my chair. Was he suggesting what I suspected? Jonny’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “Why else would a lonesome goodwife invite a strange man into her home and bid him sit in her husband’s chair?” My cheeks burned and I rose to my feet. “You presume too much.” With that I grabbed the plate and took it to the pail containing the dirty dishes. I could not bring myself to face him. Stupid, foolish Eva. Biting off more than she can chew. I remained by the hearth, my back stiff as I gazed out the window. I could see as far as the track’s bend where the golden sandstone cliffs curved toward the Buiten holding. “My husband will be home soon. You should go.” “Really, Eva. You’re not fooling me. You started this game. You might as well finish playing it. I won’t bite. Much.”...