The rest of the day, we spent walking Biggles along the beach to the rocks at the end of the cove.
“So how is school these days?”
“It’s Ok but I’ll be glad to leave. I’m the only one going to St Maur’s in my class so I won’t know anyone.”
“It will be a fresh start then for you. That’s never a bad thing. I understand from mum that you have done really well to get a place at St Maur’s.”
“I am pleased to get a place. I’m going to really try hard there to please mum.”
That evening after dinner, Aunty Marmalade went to finish her painting in her studio. She painted pictures of the sea’s countryside which she then sold in a local gallery. Her studio and bedroom was at the far end of the long landing at the opposite end from me. I had seen one of her pictures hanging along the landing. I wasn’t sure whether I liked it or not because all the colours were bright and not like the real thing at all. It was a landscape and the odd thing too was the trees had pineapples and bananas growing on them. I’d never seen fruit like that growing in England, but I didn’t say anything of course, only that I liked them.
I lay on my bed listening to my ipod and flicking through my Mizz magazine. There was a really good bit about what to wear in the summer and a free eye shadow and brush. Aunty M said that I could try it out in the morning. It was great to be treated a bit grown up. She said there was no reason why I couldn’t keep it on all day.
That night, I woke with a start. I wasn’t sure at first what had woken me up. The wind was howling through the window as the weather had gotten worse since this afternoon. I heard something crack and what sounded like a whisper. I couldn’t tell what was said. I strained my ears, annoyed that the wind was gusting now and making it hard to hear clearly. Then as the wind subsided, I definitely heard someone say,
“Florence.”
It was then I heard steps. I couldn’t tell whether they were coming from the landing or above me in the attic. It must be Aunty Marmalade. I got up and walked to the door and slowly, it creaked open. Silence. There was no noise on the landing. Aunty Marmalade was certainly nowhere to be seen. It couldn’t be her. She would have called again if she wanted me, but why would she want me anyway? I glanced at the digital clock. The red numbers glowed 1:30. Suddenly scared, I ran back to bed and lay there listening, wanting to hear and yet not wanting to hear. I tried to convince myself that it was just the wind playing tricks on my mind. Perhaps I had dreamed it. I know dreams can feel very real. I know sometimes you’re asleep but you think you’re awake. But I knew this time, I was awake and I had heard my name whispered. I closed my eyes and counted sheep. By the time I got to fifty-eight, my eyes felt heavy. My room was silent once more but I felt unnerved. I had a real feeling that someone was trying to contact me.