The Fandom(52)

This tale makes me a little teary, thinking of how close Ash came to never breathing, thinking of the old lady and Ma, dedicating their lives to help Imp women and babies for no reason other than kindness.

Ash grins, his teeth bright in the dark. ‘Good job I didn’t breathe on a different word, hey? Or I could have ended up with a really stupid name, like Four or something.’

I wish Nate was here – he would have busted a gut laughing.

We swing around the end of the wall and approach a large vegetable patch. A series of raised beds and a huge fruit cage, bigger than my sitting room back home.

‘So you’re a slave by night and a midwife by day. When do you sleep?’ I ask.

He laughs. ‘I’m a slave by night and a dogsbody by day, and never. I never sleep. Come on, you’re on blackcurrant duty.’ He gestures to some wooden punnets, stacked against the metal frame of the cage. ‘I’ll see to the peas.’

I can’t help feeling a little disappointed we won’t be working together.

After a few hours of fruit picking, my thighs ache from crouching, my fingers feel crampy, my eyes have started to sting and I really, really miss the sun. And seeing the berries in the dark proves really tough, even with the torch Ash gave me. The only good thing about this job is the tang of the blackcurrants when they explode in my mouth. I’m sick of apples and stale bread.

Ash helps move the punnets on to a wheelbarrow and grins. ‘Come on, fess up, how many did you eat?’

I laugh. ‘Probably more than I picked.’ I offer him a stem with stained fingers. ‘Try them, they’re good.’

‘Nah. Horrible little things. Why do you think I chose pea duty?’

He parks the wheelbarrow behind the cage and beckons for me to follow him. We climb over a fence and I notice for the first time a wooden shack, about the size of a garden shed but with no windows and a small, square door like a giant cat flap.

‘What’s in there?’ I ask.

‘Let’s go and find out.’ He drops down on to all fours and approaches the cat flap.

I follow suit, giggling at how daft we must look. ‘Ash? What are we doing?’

‘You want some proper food?’

‘Always.’

‘So it’s an early breakfast.’

He pushes his way through the flap until his feet disappear. I hear the soft buzz of a match striking and the gaps around the door glow ever so slightly. He holds the flap open for me, his face soft and amber in the lamplight. I squeeze my chest through the gap and headbutt his armpit. I start to laugh.

‘Shhhh.’ Ash points to a row of sleeping chickens. They look so peaceful perched up high, feathers puffed out and gleaming.

I continue to push my way into the coop, crushing dung with my hands and knees. The smell of creosote and warm feathery bodies makes me feel safe for some reason. I try and pull my legs under my body, but my arms kind of give way and I face-plant into the straw. Ash helps me up, shaking uncontrollably with laughter, his cheeks all pink and lovely with the effort of keeping it in.

‘Piss off,’ I whisper, blowing straw from my mouth.

He pulls a strand from my hair. ‘Your breakfast awaits.’

‘Won’t we get caught?’

‘Not likely, the Gems never venture this far from the manor.’

Quickly, I gather up some eggs, all smooth and warm in my hands like paperweights. I pass them to Ash and he places them outside the coop. He turns to me and nods when he’s got enough. He’s about to climb out when my stomach rumbles.

He places a finger over his lips and stands so he faces me. ‘It’s very important you don’t wake them,’ he whispers.

‘Why?’ I mouth back.

‘Because if you wake them, this happens.’ With no warning, he arches his back, turns his arms into wings and sticks out his chin. He crows so loudly I worry he’ll wake up the whole estate. Hens shriek, wings whoosh, and breasts bump into each other. I scream and laugh and shield my face with my hands.

But he clamps my arms to my sides and shouts, ‘Don’t miss it, Violet.’

We freeze, surrounded by wings and feathers. And in this chaotic, messy moment, I think to myself, Now this would make a good first kiss scene.





We eat all of the eggs – scrambled over a campfire – and fall asleep on a bed of grass beneath a silver birch. I dream of feathers and thistledown, broken leaves and pieces of exploding apple. The air fills with glittering specks which stick to my lips and make it difficult to breathe. The flecks turn to bubbles, sea foam, and I suddenly realize I’m underwater. I glance down and see a fish tail sprouting from my torso like it belongs. I open my mouth to scream, but I have no tongue. I have no voice. Katie bobs opposite me, still wearing her black catsuit, her red hair circling her face like a lion’s mane.

She smiles. ‘You must win the prince’s heart, Violet, or we will turn to sea foam.’

I open my mouth to tell her I don’t know what to do, but a load of froth emerges, spewing down my chest like vomit.

I wake with a start. I think I’m going to cry out, but the dream retreats and I remember only the bones of it – something about Katie and water and an overwhelming sense of threat. I glance to Ash. He looks so peaceful, his long eyelashes flickering slightly, and the dream slips from me completely.