Chapter 15 Faye
FAYE
After a busy day at the café, Faye was making jam to go with tomorrow’s scones.
She usually kept to her favourites, raspberry and strawberry, but she’d got carried away in the produce aisle when she saw apricots and cherries on sale.
Waiting for the mixture to reach the right temperature, she kept an eye on Scarlett, who hovered close by the boiling pot, eagerly waiting for her moment to dive into what was essentially heaven to her.
Faye gave her a wooden spoon with some apricot jam on it to keep her distracted as she put a spoonful of hot jam on a plate to make sure it was cooked enough in the fridge.
However, when she placed the plate on the second shelf, she noticed the eggs weren’t where she had left them last night, which wouldn’t be cause for alarm if her milk hadn’t been half empty, too.
She’d got up late, so she hadn’t had time to make breakfast.
Had someone broken in? I don’t think someone would’ve gone to the trouble just to drink my milk and move the eggs. If someone wanted to frighten me, there were more obvious ways to do it.
Deciding that the jam was ready, she turned it off before checking the windows and the door to find them locked, wards untouched.
Please tell me I haven’t been sleep-baking again!
I haven’t done that in years. She groaned, noticing the open cookbook on her desk, and put it back on the shelf.
Maybe it was a side-effect of her sessions with Dr Ocean.
The sound of metal clinking distracted her, and she turned to see Scarlett trying to use her tiny claws and nose to remove the lid from the steaming pot.
“No, Scarlett! That’s not for you,” Faye warned, taking the dragonia in her arms and putting her in her now padded fruit bowl.
“You can have some in the morning if you leave it alone. It’s bedtime, and hopefully neither of us will be roaming the apartment tonight.
” She stroked her scales until the beast settled to sleep, puffing out little trails of smoke with every exhale.
Removing the lid now would only wake Scarlett up again, so Faye decided to jar up the jam in the morning.
She stared at her bed while she brushed her teeth.
She dreaded going to sleep these days, knowing all that awaited her was nightmares and waking up in a pool of sweat, her heart pounding so hard in her ears that she couldn’t hear herself think.
The medication Dr Ocean had prescribed was starting to help, but she’d mentioned it might take some time to take full effect.
At least Faye hadn’t had a panic attack since that night, but the night terrors were lingering.
She was fed up with waking up exhausted from thrashing all night, and now she was worried about sleep baking too.
Climbing under her covers, she finished a warm cup of Grams’s Sleepy Tea and hoped tonight would be different.
Turning off the light felt like she was summoning the monsters, but she left her curtains open so the streetlights cast some light in and she wouldn’t be submerged in complete darkness.
Vampires could see in the dark, and she didn’t want to be caught off guard.
Those red eyes in the kitchen window still lingered in her mind when she closed her eyes and drifted off.
Walking through town on a clear starry night, Faye watched families and friends enjoying the All Hallows’ Eve festivities.
She couldn’t remember the last time she had attended the festival; Ian wouldn’t let her go alone, and he certainly never wanted to go.
She waited for him to appear, to ruin the happy atmosphere and drag her back home, but when she reached the town square, Peter was sitting on the gazebo steps, staring at her with a cheeky smile.
“He’s back,” she muttered to herself, and hurried over to him across the grass. “Are you really here?” she asked, wanting to make sure he wasn’t just a figment of her imagination.
“I was worried you might be having some trouble sleeping, so I thought I’d pop in and check on you,” Peter said, pulling at the collar on his long coat like he was cold or anxious.
Faye nodded, clenching her jaw to stop herself from smiling. She liked the idea of him thinking about her, worrying about her, because she worried about him when he disappeared. Even if they weren’t together, she felt some comfort in knowing she wasn’t far from his thoughts.
“I can leave – I don’t want you to feel like I’m rooting around in your mind.” He started to back away, but she stepped forward and place a hand on his arm.
“No, stay. I don’t mind having some company, and it’s always more fun being at the festival with someone than wandering around alone.”
She caught a slight smile on the corner of his lips, and the tension between them threatened to make her blush. She fidgeted with her sleeves, and he looked over her pink pyjamas with raccoons on them.
“Take this. It might be a dream, but I don’t want you to get cold.” He took off his jacket and slipped it around her shoulders.
“Thank you,” she said, glad he was standing behind her so he didn’t see the stupid grin on her face.
The smell of his woody cologne engulfed her senses as she slipped her arms into the jacket that was far too big for her and still warm – it felt like he was hugging her.
She resisted the urge to bury her nose in the collar.
A loud splash interrupted his reply, and they turned towards the commotion to see Benedict emerging from the dunk tank, soaking, before climbing back onto the wooden platform.
Faye frowned when she saw herself, a much younger self, keeping watch while Lucy cast a spell on the platform to keep falling every time Rosie threw the tennis ball at the target.
“That’s me! Lucy and Rosie are—” Faye cut herself off, covering for her friends’ prank. “This isn’t a dream. Is it?”
“It’s a memory – well, my memory,” Peter said. “The last festival I attended.”
“Why are you showing me this?” she asked, walking with him past the food stalls, salivating as she smelled the popcorn and hot dogs.
“I didn’t think it would be right to root through your memories, and I’m already breaking the rules by hijacking your dreams,” Peter confessed, his hand brushing hers as they walked together.
She glanced down, wondering if he would hold her hand, only to silence the disappointment when he slipped his hands in his pockets.
“I can’t believe you saw us rigging the water tank!
” She, Lucy and Rosie had messed with the target so that even when the customer missed, Benedict would be immersed.
“Why didn’t you tell Benedict?” She winced as she watched him drop in the water again.
Lucy, Rosie, and her past self were giggling as he caught on and started to chase Lucy through the stalls.
“He deserved it for putting that skunk potion in her locker.” Peter smiled. “My locker wasn’t too far from hers, and the smell took weeks to disappear. I figured she owed him one.”
Faye winced, recalling how furious Lucy had been that day. “I forgot about that smell; Lucy had to take a shower in tomato juice to get it out of her hair. Imagine if we could tell them now that one day they’d be madly in love and leading the coven together.”
“Just goes to show you never know what path life will take,” Peter said as they watched Benedict and Lucy being marched past them, and Faye couldn’t believe who was scolding them.
“Your dad?” she asked gently, and Peter nodded, watching his father tell off the pair for making trouble.
Faye saw the longing in Peter’s eyes, as though he wanted to reach out and touch him.
It was all so real, and she wondered if being able to slip back into memories like this was good for him.
It would be easy to get lost in the past, especially when those he’d loved and lost were trapped there.
“Dad was pissed at Benedict and Lucy for making a scene at the festival in front of the tourists. They had to spend the rest of it on cleanup duty to make up for their mischief. Not that it ever stopped them.”
“Surprising how two people who couldn’t stand each other always found a way to spend time together,” Faye said, watching her younger self and Harriet get on the carousel.
“I don’t think it was a coincidence – at least not on Benedict’s part.” Peter smirked.
“Really?” Faye gawked.
“He was crazy about her. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he used to drive us mad at home talking about her – how she’d beaten him in potions class or was voted class president for their year.
I think he only competed with her to keep her close,” Peter told her as Lucy and Benedict disappeared down the street towards Hawthorne House with Mr Matherson, probably to inform their mothers what they had been up to.
“Lucy was the same; she always felt like he was nipping at her heels. Being the daughter and granddaughter of the High Priestess and next in line, there was already so much pressure on her to be perfect, and she complained that Benedict was determined to find fault in her.” It was funny how wrong they’d been.
“To be honest, they’re probably only so successful now because of how much they pushed each other.”
“It would’ve been better if Benedict just told Lucy how he felt,” Faye chuckled, thinking of all the trouble they’d have saved themselves and the town.
“If the Mathersons have one thing in common, it’s failing to tell those they love how they feel when they have the chance,” Peter said. The way he caught her eye as he spoke made butterflies flutter across her tummy.
Back then, he’d been popular at school, with plenty of friends, and the teachers even liked him.
He had a talent for talking his way out of trouble; Faye would have assumed he didn’t have the time or attention span to notice the goings-on around town.
Benedict was the older, quieter brother, though he had friends too, and always kept a quiet distance from everyone.
Of the two brothers, Faye would have considered Benedict the silent observer.
But seeing his younger self at the festival, it was clear that nothing slipped past Peter either.
“They weren’t the only ones who got in trouble that night,” he said, pointing towards the fountain. She followed his line of sight to see Ian and his friends pouring blood into the fountain, so it would splash those who passed with droplets of real blood.
“How did I never hear about this?” she wondered, shuddering. Surely it wouldn’t have stayed quiet in their small town.
Peter hesitated, looking like he was trying to recall.
“I think Mum said something about the vampires reaching out to the coven the next day. They apologised and assured the coven that the parents would handle it. In return, the coven agreed to keep it quiet. I’m not sure what their punishment was, but I’m sure it was worse than what the coven would’ve done. The vamps are strict with their young.”
Faye knew Ian’s parents had been kind, but didn’t stand for making trouble in the town that had given them sanctuary.
“So, he was always an asshole,” she sighed, watching them run away as Mr Lark caught them in the act.
“We were young, and we all did stupid things. You couldn’t have known what he would become.
Besides, I didn’t bring you here to see him.
I wanted us to have some fun,” Peter said, motioning to the town hall where the dance was in full swing to celebrate the opening night of the All Hallow’s Eve festival.
She followed him excitedly, listening to the early 2000s hit pumping through the stereos as they entered the hall.
The theme that year had been Dracula’s castle, so there were hovering candles lighting up the ceiling and gold-trimmed mirrors against the walls, with large gargoyles posted along the beams, watching over the partygoers with haunting expressions.
“May I have this dance?” Peter asked, offering her his hand at the centre of the dancefloor.
“You may.” She bowed, taking it.
They danced amongst those in fancy Victorian dress.
Faye wished she wasn’t in her PJs as he held her in his arms and whisked her around the room.
She giggled as he twirled her, catching the absence of their reflection in the mirror.
This might not be how the real night had gone, but she wished it was.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said later, picking at her cotton candy. The best part about dancing in a dream was that her feet didn’t get sore. “This is the best night’s sleep I’ve had in years.”
“I’m happy to help. It’s been nice going down memory lane with you. Though I do wish I had talked to you that night – maybe asked you to go on the carousel with me,” Peter mused.
“Maybe another night we can go for a ride?” Faye said. “If you want to visit me again. I don’t want you to get you in trouble if you’re busy. It’s nice having you to keep the nightmares away.”
“I’m never too busy for you, and I’m happy to keep the nightmares away for as long as you need,” Peter said, brushing some sugar from the corner of her mouth. She blushed.
“That might be a while,” she sighed.
“This can be our own private world.” Peter smiled, taking a seat beside her on the steps of the gazebo, and she rested her head on his shoulder. They watched people come and go quietly.
Before she knew it, her alarm was going off and she woke up, rested.