The Isadora Interviews (The Network Series #1.5)(2)

“Sorry, Mama. I was lost in my thoughts.”

“Leda does that all the time,” six-year-old Anthony said. His body bounced up and down as he swung his legs. He balanced a spoon on his nose and spoke with measured words. “She’s always spacing out.”

Bronwyn set his bowl in front of him, her brown bangs falling into her face.

“Eat.”

Leda tried not to focus on her visions when she was around the little kids. They didn’t know about her curse, just Bronwyn and her parents. Dinner was relatively quiet, despite the usual bickering and banter. As usual, Bronwyn remained silent, speaking only when Mama addressed her. Leda said nothing.

Every minute that passed narrowed the possibilities. Leda saw herself at Mama and Papa’s bedroom door with Bronwyn, listening through the thick wood. Talking to Mama and Papa in front of the fire came next. Neither of them felt stronger. At this point, Papa must be deciding whether he should talk to Mama first, or include Leda and Bronwyn in the conversation right away. He hadn’t decided. Leda hoped for the second.

Once all the kids were done they shot off towards their rooms as if blighters—magic balls of energy—followed at their heels, chasing them into their pajamas. Mama stood up, and putting a hand under their chins, kissed both Leda and Bronwyn’s cheeks.

“Thank you, my girls. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Bronwyn’s deep brown eyes glowed.

“We’ll clean up, Mama,” she offered. “Go rest. You’ve been up all day.”

Mama smiled one last time and placed a hand on the small of her back. Her swollen tummy was beginning to stick out in earnest now. It wouldn’t be much longer before Mama would have to cut back on work, putting the chores onto Bronwyn and Leda. A sense of dread stirred in Leda’s gut.

Taking care of her family would seriously cut into her time to study for the interview, which was coming soon. The interview was the only way to get into Miss Mabel’s School for Girls, which could be Leda’s ticket out of the tired village of Hansham, and Leda wanted it bad. She’d show them. She’d be so intelligent that the Watcher Isadora couldn’t stand to turn her away.

Of course, that would only work if her family could prove they had the money to send her away for three years, which was probably the biggest challenge of all. Papa planned to ask for an advance on his pay, but due to the depressing future possibilities Leda had just seen, she began to have doubts. Would she be able to go to Miss Mabel’s?

Everything in her future depended on this interview. If Leda didn’t go to Miss Mabel’s School for Girls, she’d be forced into a life like her mother’s. Poor. Scraping by on the dregs of leftovers just to feed her family.

That wouldn’t happen.

Bronwyn gathered the leftover bread crusts like the steady girl that she was and peered into the cauldron that was once bubbling with stew. Papa would crumble the crusts into his soup, so she set them aside on his plate and turned her large eyes on Leda as they collected the dirty dinner plates.

“Is everything okay with Papa, Leedee?” she asked in a quiet voice. Leda scowled at the sound of her childhood nickname but could hear real anxiety in Bronwyn’s query, so she didn’t chastise her.

“Yes. I think something happened at work.”

Bronwyn paled in seconds. Her voice was raspy when she spoke. “Did Papa lose his job?”

“No.” Leda’s forehead gathered in frustration. “At least, I don’t think so. I can’t tell. I can’t see the past.”

Bronwyn took in a deep breath, resolving herself for whatever came, but the pinched look remained in her face.

“Let’s hope not.”

Leda glanced around. Yes, she thought. Let’s hope not. We can’t afford to get any poorer than we are now. Affirming her thought, a gust of wind blew against the house, sending a light whistle through the loose window panes. Leda looked at the limp, stained drapes, the uneven table, and the old wooden bucket they washed the dishes in. A dilapidated mess, all of it.

Sensing her thoughts, Bronwyn shot her a narrow look. Of all the children, she was the most sensitive over the family poverty.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she said.

“Oh really?”

“You’re thinking about how poor we are, and you’re worried that whatever happened has something to do with you going to Miss Mabel’s.”

Hearing Bronwyn say it like that made Leda’s insides tighten with shame, but she didn’t deny it because it was true. The sight of Papa walking up the back path flashed through her eyes, followed by a wave of certainty that told her he had returned.

“Papa’s here.”

A few seconds later the door swung open. Papa looked up, his blonde hair pasted to his face, fatigued eyes drawn into low angles. His smile took great effort and didn’t reach his eyes.

“Hello, girls.”

Bronwyn immediately rushed to help him out of his wet coat. Leda placed the stack of dried plates in the cupboard, watching Papa closely from the corner of her eyes.

“Are you all right Papa? You’re late,” Bronwyn said.

“Yes, just held back for a little meeting is all.”

A little meeting that decides my future, Leda wanted to add.

Mama and three of the children emerged from the bedrooms. The kids squealed with excitement, throwing themselves into Papa’s wet body and climbing up his leg.