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It had been nearly a year since her best friend, Lilly, had left her behind in England and moved to Canada. It had proved to be a long and lonely year for December.
After Lilly's parents had completely vanished, she had moved to the other side of the world to a town called Powell River in the province of British Columbia. December had been so sad that her friend had to go, but she was also really pleased for her. They had stayed in touch and Lilly had sent numerous emails telling her all about the beauty that surrounded her and the wonderful loving family that had welcomed her with open arms over there.
December suspected that there was more to Lilly's new found happiness. She suspected there was something her friend wasn't telling her. After a few years of being the very best of friends, December knew Lilly too well to not know when something was going on, but she hadn't asked her about it. She knew that Lilly would tell her, whatever 'it' was, when the time was right.
For now, December had her own boring life to worry about. Since Lilly's departure, her life had returned to the same awful day-to-day experiences of having to stay out of her Aunt Penelope's way and dodge the cruel comments by some of her more horrible classmates. She secretly daydreamed about the day that her own mother would return to take her home, to rescue her from her only other family member; the rich aunt, who had only agreed to look after her because her late brother, December's father, had requested it.
That and the fact that there was probably money involved, she thought later that day, when her chauffeur arrived to collect her from the school that was just across the road from Lilly's apartment. The apartment from where her parents had disappeared.
Looking up, December half expected to see that strange woman in white who had stood in exactly the same spot day after day to make sure Lilly had gone to, and returned from, school.
She shivered as a dark black cloud moved overhead. The hairs on the back of December's neck prickled and stood on end. Strange, she thought. It was almost as if she herself was being watched. December turned and looked all around her. The usual stream of students flowed from the school gates. Some of the boys kicked about a football and laughed as the ball hit one unexpectedly on the back of the head. “Oy!” he shouted, with a laugh as he picked it up and kicked it as hard as he could back at his friend.
A couple of girls giggled at the group in an attempt to get their attention.
On the other side of the street, there was the usual bustling of stallholders trying to sell their many wares, everything from freshly cut flowers to second hand books. People were going about their business. December could see no-one looking at her.
She shrugged her shoulders and hopped into the back seat of the black Range Rover.
“Have a good day, Miss Moon?” asked the driver, a man of about sixty with shoulder length hair as white as his crisp shirt. While on duty, he wore it in a neat pony tail at the nape of his neck.
She rolled her eyes at him and grinned.
“After all these years, I wish you'd call me December, Monty. You should know by now that I'm nothing at all like that aunt of mine,” she tutted, smiling, although the smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
“And my day was, well, let's just say that it was interesting.”
He nodded and returned her smile, showing a toothy grin. “Sorry Miss, it's habit, I suppose. Your Aunt Penelope would hate to hear me call you anything other than Miss Moon. Oh, I did it again, didn't I?” he laughed while shaking his head.
“I've been driving you to and from this school for years...Mi... December, and I don't recall you ever describing your day as interesting, not since Miss Taylor left, anyhow. Want to talk about it?” he asked as a gap in the traffic finally allowed him to pull away from the kerb by the school.
Monty was the only other person December felt she could talk to. He had been in the Moon's employment since she was a toddler and he had probably been more like family than any of her actual family members. Although it was clear that her Aunt Penelope wasn't keen on him, she had kept him on, purely at her dying brother's request.
As they drove through the London traffic and headed in the direction of Battersea where they had lived her entire life, December regaled Monty with the strange story of the flooded gymnasium. What she did neglect to tell him, however, was the fact that even when the water completely surrounded her, she was kept dry by an unexplained bubble at her feet. A bubble that she was keen to get to the bottom of.
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