Page 13 of Unlikable

Everything moves so incredibly fast. None of us think long before moving. The adrenaline in my body makes me clear again, pushes the nausea to the background and makes me run faster than I have ever done in my life. Even the pain in my feet seems to be a thing of the past. Although I do feel them when my brother, the boys and I storm out through the door of the pub, only to find ourselves in the now quiet square again. Fleetingly, we look around us. Then Everett shouts for us to turn left. We turn around as one and run on.

The man runs ahead of us, looking nervously over his shoulder backwards, and when he sees that we are hot on his heels, he starts running even faster. The long coat he wears hangs open and flies behind him like a flag.

I don’t know what possesses me, why I feel such an urge to grab this man. The Eleonora from an hour ago would have done anything to avoid any kind of confrontation. This Eleonora, most probably poisoned, wants only one thing: to catch this man. What we’ll do when we have him, I do not know; I’ll leave that to the men, but I am not going to sit quietly, alone in the pub, waiting for him to be caught.

I want answers. Why me? Why put something in my glass? Was it to drug me? Was it to kill me?

I will have to save those questions until we catch him. That is why I am running as if my life depends on it, which it probably does.

The realisation of what has just happened doesn’t really penetrate, at least not yet. All I feel is pure adrenaline. A loud little voice invades my head, saying get him, get him, get him . Another little voice in my head that says act like a lady and let the men handle this is present, but not nearly as compelling as the first voice.

Outside, by now, it is dark. Men are busy lighting the gas lanterns. Not every stretch of street is lit yet, so we sometimes have to make do with the faint light shining through the windows of buildings. I lift my feet as high as possible to avoid tripping.

Everett is running pretty fast in a dress. It looks almost comical.

Yet we lose sight of our prey as he turns a corner. When we reach a T-junction, Everett and Jonathan run together to the left street without consulting each other. Felix and I look at each other for a few seconds, and then we run into the right street together.

It is a dark alley, and it stinks of rotten fish, spoilt milk and something similar to sewer smell. I bring my hand to my face to cover my nose but quickly lower it again as it slows my pace.

The alley is long and winding. There are many corners and curves. Ahead of us I think I hear footsteps, but they could also be mine, echoing against the walls of the alley. For a moment, I hear nothing but my own breathing and the panting of Felix in front of me.

Then suddenly there is a deep growl. It sounds loud and frustrated.

Felix and I run around the corner and bump into a dead end. The man with blond hair stands with his back pressed against the wall and keeps his head down. His hands are clenched into fists.

“Who are you?” Felix pants, bending down to rest his hands briefly on his knees.

“Nobody,” the man replies, equally exhausted.

“What did you put in my drink?” I ask. To my great surprise, I sound confident and fearless. That encourages me to put my hands to my sides and lift my chin in the air, like a brave woman who has the world at her feet.

Could that be because of the strange drink?

The man looks up at me. A dark shadow covers the upper part of his face, making his eyes barely visible. Judging by his features, he is not much older than Felix.

“How can you…” he begins with surprise in his voice. He swallows. “How do you feel?”

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. I am dumbfounded. We are on the heels of this man. A man who tried to poison me, and now he asks deadpan how I am doing. It doesn’t get any stranger.

“What was in the drink?” urges Felix.

The man turns to him. The corners of his mouth curl up as he looks more closely at Felix. I follow his gaze and look sideways at Felix, who is still as white as a corpse and starting to look worse and worse. His eyes are glassy. There are deep frown lines in his forehead, and his lips are turning purple. Felix brings his hand to his mouth, but it is too late. He starts vomiting again. A sour smell spreads through the air.

“Interesting,” the man brings out, amused, his voice as icy as the coldest winter night.

Suddenly I realise that we are in danger, Felix and I. The strong and pungent smell of Felix’s vomit and the fresh breeze blowing through the alley shake me awake. Instinctively, I take a step backwards.

The man takes a step away from the wall. “Not feeling well, dear fellow?”

“What…what was in the drink?” Felix, meanwhile, staggers to his feet.

A soft chuckle. “ Unlikable .”

Felix stares dazedly out of his eyes. With my left hand, I grab his coat to slowly pull him backwards with me. He lets it happen.

Meanwhile, the man approaches us agonisingly slowly. The prey has turned back into the hunter, and I know we will get no answers if we stay put, only trouble.

My suspicions are confirmed when the man pulls out something shiny from his inside pocket. In the light of the moon, I see that it is a knife.

“Run,” I say in a whisper because my voice doesn’t go any louder.

Felix’s ears fortunately still work fine, and perhaps it is fear that motivates him because he turns around at lightning speed, grabs me by my wrist and pulls me with him.

We run like fools, no longer watching where we put our feet. Ahead. We only look straight ahead.

What possessed me earlier to think that this would be a good idea? That we would just track this guy down, without thinking about any consequences?

A door slams open, and Felix pushes me aside to avoid the slammed open door and the person running out. As a result, I land with a hard blow against the wall of the alley. Immediately, I feel a sharp pain in my shoulder. However, there is no time to worry about that. We have to keep going. I hear the man’s footsteps coming closer and closer. Felix squeezes my wrist so hard that I start seeing stars.

Behind us, I hear how the man starts laughing. It is the most terrifying sound I have ever heard. Shortly afterwards, there is also the sound of something sharp scratching over stone. I dare to take a quick glance over my shoulder and see how the man is only a few footsteps away from us. He has his arm outstretched and is drawing a long, unbroken line across the stone wall of the alley with the knife. His face is still cloaked in darkness. Only his ghostly grin is visible.

“Come on, girl, come quickly…” he sings ominously. “Come on, girl, ’tis not long. Come quick now, quick and quick.”

“What is this madman up to?” Felix gasps with a trace of disgust in his voice.

“Not much good,” I squeeze out.

“Stand still!” roars the man now. “You’re going to die anyway, boy!”

Felix stumbles, and for a moment I fear he is going to collapse. He coughs and he curses. His grip on my wrist slackens, and I don’t think twice about pulling my hand free and grabbing his wrist now. I drag him with me with all my strength. I place all my trust in my own intuition and hope for the best.

As we turn the next corner, I see an open gate that was closed earlier. I don’t hesitate as I pull Felix through the gate with me. I slam the thing shut, slide the beam closing the gate into place and lean against it with my full weight.

Only milliseconds later, the wood is kicked. I lose my footing for a moment but immediately push myself back against the only piece of material protecting Felix and me from the man.

The knife is thrust through a crack. It hits the end of the sleeve of my cloak. The sound of tearing fabric fills my ears, and I hold my breath as I detach myself from the gate.

I take a few steps forward and turn around, only to watch, terrified, as the wood is rattled. The knife keeps poking between the cracks, each time in a different place.

Then it stops.

It is suddenly dead silent, except for my own irregular breathing and Felix’s moans.

For a moment I hope the man has given up. Just for a moment.

“I am a patient man,” his calm voice then sounds. I hear some shuffling, followed by the scraping sound of his knife scraping across the wood. “I won’t have to wait long anyway.”

“Who…” I bring out shakily. “Who are you?”

A soft chuckle. “I think you realise that by now.”

I shake my head, even though I know he can’t see me.

“What have you done to me, bastard?” sounds Felix’s voice soft but still intelligible.

“I didn’t do anything. The drug was not meant for you. You drank from the potion yourself.”

Felix snorts and starts coughing again. The fact that he is not shouting new insults confirms that he is really, really not doing well.

Panic breaks out in me, and I run towards him. Just in time, because he sinks to his knees and collapses like a pudding. I fall with him but manage to twist myself into a position just in time so that I land on my rear, which breaks my fall. I pull Felix’s head onto my lap and put my hand against his forehead.

He is glowing. It looks like he is on fire from the inside.

“This is just the first dose,” the man continues calmly and deadpan as if he were reading a bedtime story. “I must confess I don’t know what it does to men, but it doesn’t always end well with women. They come back to me crying, begging for the second dose.”

I shudder. “What does the second dose do?”

“Bring redemption.”

That’s all he needs to say. I understand very well what he means by “redemption”. What his sick mind considers thus.

“I don’t know why it hasn’t worked for you yet or has worked only briefly.” He sighs deeply, as if sorely disappointed in himself. “Perhaps I should revisit my formula. Anyway…” He scrapes the gate with the knife a few more times. “That safety collar you bought earlier in the day, you might as well throw it in the rubbish. Or did the guy in the dress lose it when you decided to hunt me down?” He laughs out loud.

The fact that he knows we bought the safety collar gives me the shivers. How long has he been following us? How on earth are we going to solve this? Oh dear Lord, if only I had stayed at home. If only I had never been so stupid and stubborn as to leave the Clifton’s estate.

“You really are completely nuts,” Felix barks at the man, with probably the last bit of strength he has left in him, as he leans his weight on me more and more, as if he is losing his grip on himself.

“That’s what they all say. That’s what they all think. And you know what? Let them think that because I’m still the one having the last laugh.”

A bolt of lightning illuminates the dark sky for a second, followed by a deafening thunderclap. I cringe and close my eyes. Not now. Please not now.

Rain begins to lash down on us. Large drops of water fall down from the sky and once again drench my clothes. Felix’s hair soon gets soaked and sticks to his forehead.

Only as it begins to rain and our pursuer says nothing more do I become aware of my surroundings. We are in some sort of storage facility about four by four metres in size. Against the wooden fence are rubbish bins. It seems like the owner of this land does not place much value on tidying up because the bins are bulging and there is still a lot of rubbish around them.

There is only one entrance and exit: the gate we came through. There is a small canopy nailed to a brick wall. There are holes in it, but there are stretches where we would be dry. Only I am too stiffened with fear to move.

Another thunderclap makes me squeal.

“Miss Prime?” I hear Felix ask. His voice is husky but at the moment very warming and welcoming. I search his eyes and see that he has them fixed on me. “Are you all right?”

I remain silent.

“We need to take shelter,” he says.

I keep looking at him. It is as if his gaze is the anchor that holds me, that makes me feel safe here in this barren and desolate place.

It looks like someone in the sky has turned the tap all the way open because the heavy rain is getting worse. It starts raining so hard that I can hardly see the dustbins against the fence.

“Now,” Felix insists, and he starts moving in my lap. This brings me back into the here and now. With trembling legs, I get up, pulling Felix with me. He leans against me with his full weight and doesn’t even seem to try to support himself. I stagger and almost trip over my feet as I steer him to the canopy. I look up at the roof with narrowed eyes, searching for a place where there is no hole. Finally, I lower us against the wall in a place where the water cannot reach us.

Felix groans as he sits. He leans his back against the wall, and his head rests limply and heavily on my right shoulder.

The rain falling on the canopy makes a deafening noise. Thank God there is little wind, so nothing blows under our shelter.

Felix mutters something.

“What?” I shout to get above the sound of the falling rain.

“Has he gone?” he calls back just as loudly.

I raise my head and stare at the gate to our left, as if that way I can see if the man is still there. “I think so.”

Felix groans in response.

· · ·

I don’t know how much time has passed before the rain eases and the thunder stops. Only a light drizzle still drips down on London as Felix removes his head from my shoulder and stretches. The bones in his arms creak, and I clench my jaws together in response to the unpleasant sound.

It is still dark. The sky is even black. There are no stars, just clouds and the moon casting a soft glow on our hiding place. Through that soft glow, I can distinguish shapes and, blinking my eyes, I can see Felix’s face a little brighter again. He looks better but does not yet look completely healthy.

I spent all that time when Felix was asleep staring ahead of me. Wishing my mother was with me, hoping Everett and Jonathan would find us. Praying that the man behind the gate had gone his way and was not waiting for us.

My gaze slides to the gate again.

“He’d be a fool to stand in the rain, wouldn’t he?” I ask in a whisper.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.” Felix’s voice sounds a little clearer again than before. When I turn my head towards him, I see that he is staring straight ahead, at the rain that rhythmically beats down on the stone floor in front of us. He runs a hand through his now dry hair. “I think I’m doing better.” He gets moving and wants to push himself off against the wall to stand up. His legs immediately start shaking, and he collapses like a pudding again.

“Do you overestimate yourself more often?”

He looks at me viciously. “Still so snarky, Miss Prime. Even during this nocturnal adventure?”

I open my mouth to say something, but I close it again. I am too exhausted to argue with him. The situation is not ideal for that either. We are vulnerable here, and we don’t know who is behind the other side of the fence.

“Please tell me,” Felix continues, this time in a slightly friendlier tone, as if realising himself that this is not the right time to be hostile, “what is it that makes you so incredibly stubborn?”

On reflection…

I have to take three breaths to calm myself. “What do you mean?”

“Women know better than to contradict men. We men are in charge. You must obey. Every woman is taught that, but apparently you were not.”

I have to think about that for a moment. I always try to remind myself that I am a woman, that I should behave accordingly. Am I really that stubborn?

“You may think I am stubborn,” I say slowly, “but I am a lady of status. I am not someone who just lets people walk all over me. I try to act correctly in every situation. I behave the way my father wishes me to behave. I think.”

“Special man, it seems,” Felix responds with a chuckle. He doesn’t sound mean, rather curious and admiring. He sighs and wiggles up and down for a moment. “Tell a story, if you wish.”

“A…a story?”

“Please.” Felix closes his eyes and folds his hands together on his lap. His feet wobble up and down. A muscle near his eye jumps, and I see a frown forming on his forehead.

He is in pain. He tries to hide it, I think. Tries to pretend to be tougher than he is. Is that to put me at ease? Or is he too proud to admit that he’s still not quite doing better?

“What do you want to know?” I ask him.

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “Tell me something about your life in Canterbury. About your girlfriends, your hobbies, your favourite foods. Maybe you have an interesting pet about which the strangest stories can be told. Maybe there is a chicken running around your estate that flies against the window every morning.”

“Chickens can’t fly.” I laugh.

“They can flutter. They call it flying.”

“Right.” I grow serious and stare ahead again, at the ominous night ahead. In the distance, the sound of clattering horse hooves can be heard, followed by the creaking wheels of a cart. “I have lived in Canterbury all my life,” I begin hesitantly, not sure if Felix will feel better because of my storytelling. “This is the first time I’ve been so long and so far from home. When I realised it the other day, I was happy and excited, but it frightens me because I realise, especially now, that I don’t actually know anything about the world. All these years I was behind the safe walls of Canterbury and our estate.”

I glance aside to see how Felix reacts to my pathetic attempt at storytelling, but he has not stirred and seems to be listening intently.

Slightly more sure of myself, I continue. “Canterbury is a beautiful city in Kent. In summer, my mother used to take me for a picnic by the Stour, the river the city borders. Those were the best summers of my life. We braided each other’s hair, ate until we couldn’t eat any more and stared at the clouds until we could recognise figures in them.”

I smile at the memory of those particular summers and, as a result, the dark surroundings around us seem to take on a little more light, or at least become less ominous.

“Canterbury Cathedral is something we are proud of as city residents. It is a beautiful structure with an awful lot of detail. You should see it, if you haven’t been there yet, at least. Have you ever been there?”

“Not at the cathedral,” he says. “When I drove to your estate, I did see the towers in the distance, but I never got close enough to properly admire the building.” He grins. “And let’s face it, with that big headache from drinking the day before, I probably wouldn’t have been able to enjoy the view anyway.”

I catch myself grinning back. I clear my throat and straighten my shoulders. “Anyway, as an architect, you really should go and see the cathedral sometime. You are going to love it.”

“Take me there sometime when all this is over and you go back home later.” He sounds sincere, not mean, not fake, not pretending. Just…genuinely friendly and interested.

Note to self: tell Felix a bedtime story to prevent him from waking up sullen.

I nod. “Agreed.

“Canterbury sounds like a fine environment to grow up in.”

“The people are friendly and hard workers,” I say proudly. “Christopher Marlowe was born there, did you know?”

“Who?”

“Christopher Marlowe,” I repeat in amazement, “the important poet and playwright. Don’t you know his work? Edward the Second, The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus… ”

“Is that his?” Felix laughs out loud. “That last play gave me nightmares as a child. Selling your soul to the devil is not something high on my list.”

“Me too!” I say excitedly and shift in my seat so I can look at him better, so he can see my enthusiasm. “I remember when my parents went to the play, and Everett and I weren’t allowed to come along. We were so curious that we went to Father’s library, and Everett read the story to me. I was so incredibly scared, and when Mother found out why I was scared, Everett and I were not allowed to play together for a fortnight. The library went under lock and key.”

“Curious kids you were,” Felix concludes. He looks at me obliquely. “That never changed.”

I feel the heat rise to my cheeks at his intense gaze and glance quickly to the side, only to stare at the fence again. “I don’t have much more to say about Canterbury.”

Felix is silent for a while. Then he asks, “And friends?”

“I don’t see my friends very often. Sometimes we go for tea together, but then we are a group of about seven women. Sometimes there are eight of us. I don’t know everyone personally…Our parents know each other and think it’s wise for us women to stay in touch when it’s quieter in terms of parties and receptions.”

“Do you have a best friend?”

When Felix asks that question, I realise I don’t really have any girlfriends. “I do,” I lie.

“What’s her name?”

I stare at my fingers. “Cecile…”

“Your lady’s maid?”

“Okay, I have no friends. Are you satisfied now?” I press my lips together in shame and dare not look at him again.

“Why should I be satisfied that you have no friends?” Felix snorts. “I just feel sorry for you that you are missing out on something that could be so incredibly wonderful. Besides, I met Cecile. She seems…nice?”

Is he trying to make me feel good?

Without thinking, I bring my hand to his forehead. This still feels hot, but not as hot as before. For a moment, I begin to doubt whether this isn’t just a healthy temperature.

I let my eyes slide from my hand on his forehead to his eyes. When our gazes find each other, a wave of warmth goes through me and I realise what I am doing. Swiftly, I withdraw my hand and place it on my lap. My fingers tingle where I have touched his skin. “Excuse me. I was wondering if you are still not feeling well.”

Felix starts laughing. A beautiful sound that lights up my heart in this dark night. “You are a special person; I can conclude with certainty.”

I remain silent, still not daring to look at him.

“Did I say something wrong? If so, please let me know immediately so I can pay attention to my choice of words in the future.”

“What happened to the young man who imposed strict rules on me earlier?” I raise my eyebrows. “Rule number two, we stay away from each other. That’s what you said. If I have to tell you what I like and don’t like to hear, it means you’re going to violate your own rules because you obviously intend to get near me more often.” I talk so fast that I almost trip over my own words. My chest rises and falls fleetingly as I still dare to look at him again. His black curly hair shines in the little moonlight shining on us. His moss-green eyes stand out brightly against his pale skin.

This is the most handsome man I have ever met, and realising this once again, in a place like this, in a situation like this, confuses me.

Felix looks at me for a while. For a few seconds, I think he is not going to say anything more. I start getting nervous under his probing gaze. Then, out of nowhere, he asks, “Are you happy, Miss Prime?”

“What do you mean?” He ignores my question, just keeps looking at me. It makes me uncomfortable. I clear my throat. “Of course I am happy. I have everything a lady could wish for. I am articulate, well-mannered, prosperous—”

“Locked in a perfect picture of yourself,” he interrupts me without any pity. “No friends, never seen anything outside Canterbury, always fighting to stay on the path your father laid out for you.” He snorts. “I would not be surprised if you were married off to the most prosperous man in your father’s circle. How old is the best gentleman? Early forties?”

Heat rises to my head, and I ball my hands into fists in my lap. “How dare you—”

“Am I wrong?” Felix does not release my gaze, and for some reason I cannot look away from him.

I open my mouth, searching for the right words, but Felix is ahead of me again.

“The reason why you are so stubborn, why you can be so insufferable, is because you are trapped in a world of men. A world in which you have to behave like the young woman your father envisages, that others envisage.” He shakes his head. “And you don’t like that you have to behave like that. I think deep down inside you hope to taste more of life. You are not a person to follow rules. You need to see things, experience things. Taste food you have never heard of, discover cities you have only been able to dream about. Pursue new hobbies and get to know people who actually care about you.”

I shiver, and I don’t know if it’s because of the cold or Felix’s words. One thing is certain; he has crossed a line.

“I see I have really offended you this time.”

“You have that right.” Something starts to burn behind my eyes, and I do my best to ignore the feeling. “Why are you saying these things? Why have you been so mean to me from the start?”

Felix smiles, but his eyes do not participate. “Because I know how you feel. Because I know that however you turn it, you torment yourself by pretending and that doesn’t make you real. That is stagecraft, and forgive me for my brutal honesty, but you are no Christopher Marlowe.”

Every word that comes out of his mouth stabs me in my soul again and again. As if I can’t think of everything he has just said myself. As if I don’t know how hard it is to survive as a woman in a world like this, where men look down on us and women are treated like walking meat packets that are only good for giving birth to offspring.

“What do you know?” I bring out defeated. “Do you expect me to change course now? To take off my mask, go out into the wide world and explore things? Leave behind my future planned by my father and face an uncertain one?”

“I’m not expecting anything,” he responds calmly. He slumps slightly against the wall and rests his chin wearily on his chest, his eyes still on me. “I am just telling you what I think because that is something I can do. I am not asking you to change yourself because I know that is not possible in this world. The fact that I cannot stand you has to do with my words just now and that, Miss Prime, is unfair, but the reality. It is not your fault; it is the fault of the world.”