Aria Remains
CHAPTER FOURTEEN

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Aria’s spine was stiff and aching, the back of her neck sore from the sunlight beating down upon it throughout the afternoon, yet she felt vibrant and excited, filled with happy apprehension at what Alice would tell her. Although she did not know where or what it was, still she could hardly wait to make her way home, to her proper home, to return to all that she had previously known. She had spent her time in the field preoccupied by thoughts of who she had left behind, who would have been waiting for her. She thought of joyous reunions with friends, a passionate coming together with a lover, perhaps even a husband. How had she spent her time? Did she have siblings? What kind of person was she, when she was actually herself? What was the real version of her, the version who knew what she was doing, who knew where she belonged?

As she walked back towards the hut she heard Dog approaching and, looking to her left, she saw him bouncing across the grass, tail wagging, tongue flopping from the corner of his mouth. When he reached her he barked, then moved his head closer to her hand so she could stroke him.

‘Oh, Dog, I’m really going to miss you,’ she said. ‘I know Alice has done so much for me, but it if hadn’t been for you I don’t know how I would have survived.’

Dog barked again, looking up at her. There was something different in his brown eyes, almost as if he were thinking, that he understood what Aria was saying. He shook his head, licked her hand, then ran off in the direction of the hut, turning several times to make sure she was following him.

When Aria caught up with him she was surprised to find the hut empty, and that there was no indication that Alice had been there for some time. The hearth, its fire almost always burning, even on the hottest days, was cold and filled with grey ash, and there was no odour of anything cooking despite the hour. Aria looked down at Dog, who looked up at her.

‘Where could she be?’ Aria asked.

Dog sniffed, shook his head again and wandered out of the hut as if looking for the old woman. Aria wasn’t sure what to do, whether she should stay and wait or if she should follow Dog’s lead and try to find her. After a minute or two she decided to go back outside since it was still a glorious day and, with the heat now fading, she decided to make the best of it. Looking around, shielding her eyes from the retreating sun, now she realised that Dog, too, had disappeared.

She wondered where they had gone. Had Dog caught Alice’s scent and raced off to meet her? Or, perhaps, he was taking advantage of his freedom to go for another run through the fields, to do whatever it might be that dogs do for fun when they’re unsupervised. Aria smiled at the thought, then shrugged, walked around to the side of the hut and sat on one of the wooden stools she and Alice would often use in the evenings, from where they would watch the sun set, casting beautiful purple and orange ribbons through the sky. As she waited she thought again of what it could be that Alice was going to tell her. Just something, she thought, would be enough of a beginning. Just the merest snippet of information, just a clue as to where this place was, what was nearby, if it were an island or if there was, somewhere, a route through to more of the rest of the world. A name, perhaps. A landmark. Something that might jog her memory, that would provide just enough of a stimulus for her to be able to put a few pieces together so that she could find her way home.

Home. Just the word, just the sound of it as she said it aloud brought her a feeling of comfort, of wellbeing. It was as she said it again, in the middle of a sigh, that she thought she heard something amongst the trees over to her right, the same trees from which she had emerged when she first met Alice. She leaned forward slightly, trying to find a view through the leaves and branches, but she could see nothing. Still, she felt certain there was someone there, that the sound she had heard was of someone, a person, stepping on a twig or snapping a thin branch.

‘Hello?’ she ventured, a slight tremor to her voice.

Receiving no reply she started to stand from the stool, still squinting into the thicket. Now the sensation began to build that she was being watched, that there was someone hiding from her, not because they were scared, not in the way she had hidden when she first came to this place but because they wanted to remain obscured, that they didn’t want to be seen because what they wanted to do was watch. To watch her.

She sat down again, seized by the idea that it was the man Alice had warned her about when she first arrived, the man she had seen as she took shelter amongst those very trees.

What was his name? she thought, trying to recollect what Alice had said.

Beckett. Yes, that was it. Beckett.

What could it be that was so bad about him? She remembered the atmosphere change in the hut when she mentioned him to Alice, and that she had warned her to stay away from him. But why? They hadn’t spoke about him since that day and she had all but forgotten him but now, with a shudder, still looking into the trees, she wondered again why he had been looking for her. If, in fact, he had been looking for her at all. It was, she now remembered, Alice who had suggested that was what he had been doing. So, perhaps, since it was all conjecture on Alice’s part, it may not even be true that Aria was really her name.

A new wave of disquiet fell upon her. The time she had spent here, the time getting to know the old woman, learning how to work the land, how to prepare their food and take care of the hut, not that it neither needed or appeared to have ever seen very much care - was it all built on a lie? And what was she doing in the large building at the abandoned hamlet, the bizarre things she was saying, the strange light? She had never mentioned it to Alice, deciding that she probably didn’t want to know the answer, but now it returned to haunt her, to give her even more cause for concern about her. She rubbed her face, struggling to fight the sense of hopelessness that had struck her as she sat at the cliff’s edge, the feeling that she was forever lost, that she would never find her way home and that it was all to do with this strange old woman. But she would not cry, not any more. She would not give in. There had to be a way out of here and, the sense of kindliness she had tried to feel for Alice now replaced again by a determination to find the truth, she got to her feet, intent on finding her. Looking once more into the trees, wondering if she should call out to Beckett, to ask him why he was hiding and what it was he wanted from her, she instead turned and walked away, heading through the parched and narrow valley that would, eventually, bring her to the edge of the river.

Moments after Aria had disappeared from view, Alice appeared from the other side of the hut, Dog at her side.

‘What be it, hound?’ she asked as Dog sped up, looking towards the valley. ‘And where be that girl? Thought thou hath avowed her retirement from the fields?’

Dog looked over to her, then carried on towards the gully.

‘Aye, off thee go, find her and bring her back.’

It was the sound of Dog barking that caused Aria to turn, pulling her from her thoughts as she wandered through the valley. She smiled as she saw him, then looked further back, wondering if Alice might be with him, or if Beckett had shown himself. She saw nothing except the excited terrier, his tail wagging with such intensity it almost forced his hind to the grass.

‘You haven’t seen her, either?’ Aria asked, bending forward to stroke him. ‘And no sign of that… that Beckett, I suppose?’

Dog looked up at her with a curious expression, pricking his ears until, as always, the left one drooped down again, then bounded ahead, occasionally looking back to her. Aria followed, hearing the sound of the rushing river as she drew closer to the shore.

When they reached the water’s edge she sat on the shore and looked across to the line of trees, trying to gauge their distance. She guessed the river must be something like twenty feet across, perhaps thirty. Watching it flowing quickly by she began to wonder if she might be able to swim across it, if it was a separate area of land, distinct from where she was now, that would, perhaps, show her the way out. Maybe there was someone who would be able to help her, to get her away from this strange old woman, someone who would be able to…

Then, with a disappointed sigh, she realised she didn’t actually know whether she was even able to swim. And besides, the speed at which the water was charging past would probably cause issues for the most accomplished natator, and she couldn’t imagine that she was one of those. She didn’t feel the merest hint of affinity for the water, not even the slightest recollection of ever having been interested in it. But then, she thought, sighing again and turning to see what Dog was doing, she didn’t have even the most distant, most nebulous memory of anything at all. Dog looked over to her just as she looked to him, raising his head from something he had found interesting amongst a brown clump of longer grass.

‘Oh, Dog,’ Aria said, ‘I do wish you were able to say something, to tell me something. I bet you know all the answers. I bet you could tell me everything I need to know.’

Dog came slowly over to her, sat beside her and rested his chin on her lap. As he raised his eyes to her, Aria felt a jolt of regret. If this was to be the beginning of her end here, if she was going to rein in her temper far enough to allow Alice to tell her where she was so that she might be able to understand how to return to her past, she really would miss this funny, intelligent little dog. He would miss her too, she thought, imagining that the attention and care she had showed him was something new to him, that Alice had been rather less than companionable.

‘If I can find my way out,’ she told him, gently stroking his head and ears, ‘I wonder if I’d be able to take you with me?’

Dog raised his head a few inches from her lap, blinked slowly, then settled back.

‘I’d love to be able to do that, I really would,’ Aria said, watching him until his eyes closed tight and he appeared to have fallen asleep.

She wondered if she ought to try to move him slightly, try to position his head so that she might shade him from the sun, setting now but still sharing its heat, and decided that if he got too hot then he was quite capable of changing position himself. Still, she moved her head slightly forward, masking at least the top of his.

How old are you? she thought, still stroking his head as lightly as she could, not wanting to disturb him but hoping it would still, somehow, make him happy. How long have you been here? Have you had a fun life? Is Alice good to you? Would you want to come back with me, back to wherever it is I came from?

Dog moved slightly, his eyes still closed, finding the most comfortable position. Aria slowly ran her hand down his back, feeling the straight, wiry hair that was, somehow, soft despite its stiffness. She studied its wheaten colour, the shades and tones within it. If there was anything here, in this remote, wild place, that came close to feeling like some kind of home then it was him, this little dog, so cheerful, so inquisitive. She would miss him, should they be parted. She would worry about him, would think of him often, hoping we was all right.

Just as she was closing her eyes, the soothing sound of the river and the warmth of the sun relaxing her, lulling her, she heard a faraway sound, something that sounded like some kind of commotion. She opened her eyes and looked behind, in the direction from which they had walked, the direction of the old woman’s hut. Concentrating, she became aware of voices, sounding like they were involved in an argument. Dog, too, opened his eyes and turned his head the same way and then, in one quick movement, he was up and away from her, running along the valley. Aria got to her feet with some effort, wincing at the pain in her back, and followed him, her mind racing, wondering if Alice and Beckett had become embroiled in a dispute of some kind. As she walked she started to worry if Alice was safe, if she was under threat from the man she had warned her about so sternly or, the situation reversed, if he was safe from Alice.

She walked more quickly, scraping hair from her face, ignoring the twinges in her spine, hearing Dog’s barks even though he was now out of sight. Finally, breathing heavily, she realised the sound of the voices had now gone. Reaching the last curve in the gully, she grew fearful of what she might find.

She saw Alice at the side of the hut, hunched over Dog. She seemed to be talking to him, although Aria was unable to hear what she was saying and then, as soon as she realised they were no longer alone, the old woman stopped and shooed Dog away.

‘Off with ye,’ she said, turning slightly towards Aria, ‘and make thyself useful. Bring us something we can eat for our supper.’

Dog looked ruefully at Aria and then scampered away.

‘Is everything all right?’ Aria asked, trying to catch her breath, wiping the perspiration from her brow.

‘Where be thee?’ Alice asked, her eyes ranging over Aria. ‘I be here in good time, waiting for thee.’

‘I’m sorry. I was here a little while ago but I didn’t see you anywhere, so Dog and I went for a walk down to the river.’

Alice said nothing, giving one sharp nod before turning away.

‘Did I..?’ Aria began, ‘Did I hear you talking to someone just now? Was it Beckett?’

Alice’s head spun sharply.

‘What is it maketh thou wonder about that man?’ she said, sounding angry. ‘I thought I hath been most clear with thee, that thou shouldst pay him no mind.’

‘I just thought I saw…’

‘Thou saw nothing, no Beckett, no-one,’ Alice spat, scowling.

From somewhere nearby they heard Dog barking and, taking a breath, Alice seemed to make an effort to soften her attitude.

‘Now,’ she said, restrained, ‘while the hound be catching our supper, what were it thee wanted to talk of?’ sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNøvel.ɴᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

‘Well,’ Aria replied, taking a few steps closer, ‘you were saying that you might be able to tell me a bit more about where we are, maybe even how it is that I came to be here.’

Alice thought for a time, then motioned for Aria to join her, to sit on the stools by the side of the hut, facing what remained of the setting sun. Now hardly more than a golden sliver, it gave the evening sky a deep, rich orange-blue tint that somehow appeared to Aria to be both portentous and hopeful at the same time. A bittersweet promise that whatever it might be returning to tomorrow, it still shall return.

As they sat quietly, both looking straight ahead, squinting against the sun, Aria’s heart began to beat more quickly. She wondered what she might learn, torn between wanting to be good-natured to the old woman so that she would reveal her secrets while, at the same time, unable to rid herself of the vexation she felt, the developing suspicion that it was all Alice’s fault she was stuck here in the first place. As she was wondering whether to ask what it was she was doing on the night she found her at the forsaken village, reciting her strange incantations, Alice began to speak.

‘There be things thou hath not the brain nor the learning to understand,’ she said, quietly, carefully. ‘I say not it be any fault of thy own, it just be that way. Thou be young, a child. I be old, older than thee might ever comprehend. And there be things in this world thou slip’st into, time thou slip’st between, and there be things thou might find thyself in that thee shall never escape. There be things, judgements made by others, that hath, by chance or by design, caught thee inside.’

She paused, still looking straight ahead, running her tongue around the inside of her mouth.

‘It may be true to say that, sometimes, these judgements of which I speak can tangle amongst them people that be not deserving of such entwinement, that catch those for whom any interests be outside of these decisions. Sometimes it may be that which lies in the hands of another can bring those fingers tightly around a throat that be amiss.’

‘I don’t under…’

‘It may not be for thee to understand,’ Alice interrupted, raising her hand. ‘It may just be for thee to accept, to settle down with thy fate, to do the best thee can.’

‘Are you saying,’ Aria said, thinking carefully, ‘that this… this fate is something I’m just stuck with? That I’m trapped here, that there’s no way for me to escape?’

‘It may be there be nowhere to escape to. Worlds can strike when they be on course to collide, time can turn and reach around and swallow itself whole, ending and starting again so that it seems never ending, always one thing and everything. It can be that one becomes another, that all we can do is be guided by the light we see, to travel the path we take.’

Aria looked down, unsure whether she could believe anything Alice was saying to her, not even convinced she understood what she was saying. Was the old woman being deliberately obtuse? Could she really be trapped here forever? Could this really be all there was? But then, if this was the life she was supposed to be living, if she was fulfilling the role into which she had been cast, why, then, did she have no memory of her past? Why was it that her life, it seemed, only began the moment she arrived at this place, yet there was something inside her that hinted towards so much more? A compulsion for something else driven by a discomfort in her circumstance, a desire for more, for what she was certain existed but which still remained beyond her reach.

Alice, as if able to read her thoughts, shifted on her stool into a position that allowed her to place her hand on Aria’s forehead, her touch bringing with it a strange calmness, a kind of savage tranquility that Aria could not fathom yet which, in the most peculiar of ways, seemed to erase all thoughts from her mind and all anxiety from her heart. As Dog watched from several yards beyond them, quietly shifting to gain a better view through the long grass that obscured him from sight, Alice began speaking very quietly, muttering words Aria could not hear, cloaking her beneath a canopy of both the past and of the future that she could not feel. Her eyes had closed and, even though she didn’t know if they were closed because she had chosen to close them herself, she attained a different kind of vision, one in which she was a young girl, a very sad young girl who had been displaced, who was with someone she didn’t know, someone who made her feel afraid and lonely and bereft.

‘Where have you taken me?’ she heard herself say. ‘Why won’t you let me return?’

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