Foxblood #1: A Brush with the Moon
Chapter Six
SEPTEMBER PASSED quietly. I kept my head down, enjoying my studies and my new uni life. October brought a sudden change in the weather, and on a rare sunny lunchtime, I took my chicken sandwich outside to eat at a picnic bench and passed the rest of my break idly sketching a student sitting on the low wall near the path, reading a book. Nearby, a couple were making out against a cedar tree.
My mobile buzzed in my pocket. It was Mum. Great. I let her do all the talking.
“You promised not to leave it so long between calls, darling. It’s been a month.”
“Sorry, Mum.”
“So. What have you been up to?” she asked excitedly.
“Studying,” I said, studying the amorous couple.
“I hope so. And?”
“Nothing.”
I could feel her exasperation oozing down the phone line. “I miss you, sweetheart. I’d really like to see you, spend some time with you, and speak to you properly instead of listening to one-word answers.” She paused, waiting for a response, but I didn’t have one that she’d want to hear. “And even though I know he’d never admit to it,” she continued, “Todd’s missing you too.” Missing me doing his homework, most likely, I thought as she carried on. “Could you not spare us some of your precious time? Haven’t you got half term coming up?”
“I’m busy, Mum.”
“Busy doing what?” Her voice now held an edge of anger.
“Look, I’ve got to go. Class is starting. Bye, Mum.” I snapped my phone shut and threw it onto the grass.
Beth skipped up to join me. “Making yourself jealous?” She raised her eyebrows and cocked her head in the direction of the ardent pair. “Or are you watching him?” She turned to scan the grassy mounds. “Oh…he’s gone.”
“Who’s gone?”
“Sebastian. I swear he was over there, under that weeping willow, and definitely staring in this direction. You must have seen him.”
I hadn’t, and because it wasn’t the first time he’d been caught staring at me without my knowledge, I found it quite disconcerting. Beth thought it was amusing.
“Anyway, guess what?” she said. “You’ll have a great opportunity to get to know him better in a couple of weeks.”
My stomach lurched, and I started to feel weak and nauseous. What on earth was she talking about? I listened open-mouthed as she continued.
“Lovell Towers is going to be the venue for the annual Halloween fancy dress ball, and I have it on good authority from Marie that Mr Lovell Senior has offered to hire it out for free. He’s going to have the great hall fitted out with a stage, and there’ll be a live band and fancy decorations and everything. Isn’t that great?”
Great wasn’t exactly my thought. Actually, I was thinking that I might be about to reacquaint myself with my lunch, and also, that there were already enough cobwebs in that place not to necessitate any Halloween decorations. But Beth didn’t wait for an answer.
“Obviously I’ve bought us some tickets,” she said.
Wonderful. I hated dressing up, and I had no inclination to make a fool of myself. I had about two weeks to come up with an excuse not to go.
“Speaking of nights out, can you take a break from studying and come out with us tonight, please?” Beth grabbed my hands together in hers and fluttered her eyelashes emphatically.
“Okay. Okay. Just stop doing that. People are watching.”
“Ooo, goody. You’ll get to meet Tom.”
Tom turned out to be a tousled blond surfer dude with a very buff body but not much going on upstairs. Beth had met him the previous weekend on a day trip to Abertreath and had decided to bestow her ample charms upon him. Their relationship was a purely physical one, but then Beth’s usually were.
As it transpired, Tom was capable of only one topic of conversation, surfing, and I was no Gidget. I didn’t know my nose from my tail, and I had certainly never had a Chinese wax job. Bored, I got up to dance with Justin, and we were having a whale of a time for a couple of songs before suddenly…
“Mind if I cut in?” A voice I was hoping not to hear spoke behind me.
“Don’t leave me,” I mouthed silently to Justin, but he ignored my plea.
“I’ll just let you two lovebirds get to know each other better,” he said annoyingly as he flounced off.
I turned to smile at Vincent. “Actually, I was about to visit the ladies’. Excuse me,” I said before disappearing quickly through the side door and crashing headfirst into Sebastian. He caught me adeptly and swiftly swung me against the wall, out of the way of more approaching revellers. I steadied myself, and my breath caught as I felt the strength of his hard muscles through the fabric of his sleeves.
“Sorry. I-I…” The words wouldn’t come, and if he hadn’t been pinning me against the wall, I think my knees would have buckled.
“Yes, I saw,” he said. “I don’t like seeing you with Vincent Reith. Not that I’d enjoy seeing you with any other man, but particularly him.”
He studied my face, and as I stared into his eyes, those eyes, I thought for a moment that I saw something, a red flicker, perhaps, deep inside, but then it was gone. I concluded it must have been the lighting.
He angled his head and moved slowly closer, as if to kiss me.
So far, my experience of kissing had been extremely limited and mainly unpleasant. Old, slobbery relatives eager for a taste of youth, or boys grabbing me at the school disco, mumbling ‘Give us a kiss, Soph’ before welding their saliva-filled mouths against mine. I longed to experience a tender kiss, like the ones I saw in the movies—soft and sensual, full of warm tingling sensations and passionate longing in a man’s eyes. I hoped it would happen one day…just not yet.
Summoning all my strength, I pushed Sebastian away to make my escape. “Let me go. I’m not interested,” I said, then hurried towards the bathroom.
“Yes, you are, Sophie. You just have to admit it,” he called after me.
In the bathroom, I stared into my own almond-shaped hazel eyes, and they stared back at me. You can’t fall for him, Sophie, they seemed to say. I knew they were right, but… Oh. My. God. It had felt good in his arms: warm, comforting, safe, and, well…just…right. It could obviously never happen again—even with only a couple of years between us, and him being the most gorgeous man I’ve ever met—it just couldn’t. We were too different, and then there was the eye thing I didn’t understand, and the high-five with his cousin. I had to keep that in mind. I’d already decided I must be some form of amusement for him. Why else would he pursue someone like me? He couldn’t possibly fancy me.
I studied my reflection again and had no idea what Beth had been talking about. What did I have that Sebastian might find attractive? My nose had always been too big, my chin too pointy, and even my hair had gone redder recently, with slightly sun-bleached ends. It definitely wasn’t a good look. So, if it wasn’t my appearance—and it couldn’t be my sparkling personality, because I didn’t have one—then it had to be some kind of joke.
Well, the joke would be on him. I splashed some refreshing water over my face, removed a smudge of mascara from my cheek, and headed back to my friends.
A slow song was playing in the main room.
Making my way back to the booth, I glanced towards the dance floor, where Sebastian was dancing with Lara, draped all over him like a rash. A horrible feeling sank to the pit of my stomach, and my legs turned to lead. I couldn’t move. Maybe I should have just let him kiss me. That could have been my neck he was nuzzling, and my ass he was holding. My resolve faltered. Would it really hurt to let him play his game, if I got something out of it, too?
His head lifted slightly from Lara’s shoulder, and he looked up at me with a sly grin. Comprehension dawned. He was playing the jealousy card. Clearly, nobody had told him that that was so last year.
“Would you like to go out sometime?” Vincent materialised behind me again, startling me.
I whirled around.
 
; “Will you stop sneaking up on me?” I snapped.
“Apologies. Let me make it up to you. Come to dinner. I know a very special place.”
“No. Thank you.” God, he was like a bad itch that I just couldn’t scratch.
“It’s only dinner. I’m not proposing…yet.” He raised an eyebrow cheekily.
“Again, thank you, but no. Please excuse me. I’m tired, and I’m ready for home.”
I moved to get my coat from the booth and noticed Lara trying to hold Sebastian’s attention, turning his face back to hers and replacing his hand on her waist. He was staring at Vincent menacingly, clearly trying to escape Lara’s grip. I had no idea what his beef was with Vincent, but if things were about to get ugly, it was definitely time to leave.
“May I at least escort you home?” Vincent asked, catching hold of my arm.
I shook his hand off. “No. Thank you. It’s not far.” I headed for the exit, but I was sure I heard a faint “I know” blending in with the music.
The next morning I lay in bed as the sun rose and the light slowly grew brighter through the curtains. It had been a disturbing and restless night, with my mind racing. I got up, grabbed a quick slice of toast, and got dressed.
It seemed like forever since we’d last had a sunny day, and I was itching to get out in the open, breathe some cool, fresh air, clear my head, and give my aching limbs a good workout.
I grabbed my jacket and shoved a tiny pad and pencil into the pocket at the last minute, just in case. Knocking on Beth’s door as I passed, I spoke softly. “Going for a walk. See you later.” I wasn’t sure if I’d been heard. She and Tom had had a late night and were still sleeping it off.
The now-familiar path along the river had grown muddy and slippery with the recent rain, and I had to tread carefully so as not to lose my footing, but I didn’t stop. I noticed that the water level in the pond had also risen dramatically, but the pond was not my destination today. I carried on up and over the hill and, not wanting anyone to view my approach, made my way left towards the driveway, weaving surreptitiously through the trees along the serpentine route to the house. Lovell Towers hadn’t changed since my last visit, but under a now-clouded sky, it held a more sinister air.
This time I crept around the front face of the building, almost touching it, hoping to remain unseen under the high-set windows. I tried to rise onto my tiptoes to peep inside, but I wasn’t tall enough.
A wall protruded outwards at the opposite end of the house, joining it to the adjacent cliff face. A few metres away from it, I could plainly see the entrance to the mine. It was sealed from intruders by a heavy iron gate, dark and disturbing like a creepy crypt door. I shivered and turned away.
An arched opening in the wall beckoned, and I passed under it, walking along a winding path leading to the same kitchen garden I’d visited previously, but I didn’t enter it. To my right was a block of derelict stables, and to my left, I noticed that the back door to the house was slightly ajar. I couldn’t resist slowly pushing it open and stepping inside. As the door creaked under my touch, my nerves took hold.
“Hello,” I called, hoping that nobody would answer. They didn’t.
The door opened into the kitchen. It was quite a large room, very countrified, and not at all what I’d expected to see. High wooden cupboards filled the back wall on my left in a Victorian dresser style. They were painted a pale olive green and had a grey marble work surface, underneath which was a row of small drawers. I inquisitively pulled on one of the porcelain handles, but it resisted my grasp, not wanting to reveal the drawer’s secrets. To the right was a Belfast sink housed under a long, dirty window with cobwebbed corners, which looked out over the old garden. In front of me was another door, possibly leading to a scullery, and next to that was a rickety shelving unit which looked as if it had been quickly knocked up out of some rough scrap timber and painted to match the units. It was hardly the kitchen of an old manor house. I tried to picture the room bustling with activity, with servants preparing a lavish meal for a hundred guests, and couldn’t imagine it.
Floorboards creaked above my head and freaked me out. It was probably rats, but I wasn’t prepared to hang around to find out, so I quickly exited.
Back outside, I was drawn to the mine and edged curiously towards it. A rustling noise startled me, but it was only a squirrel scrambling up a nearby tree. I approached the gate and tried to peer inside. Dark stone walls led to nothing but pitch-black emptiness, and there was a faint noise in the distance as if the caverns were echoing distant voices from the past. Clearly, it was a seashore in a shell moment and my imagination was working overtime again.
I was about to turn away when I saw them: a pair of yellow eyes shining out of the darkness. I watched, mesmerised, as they grew bigger, closer, and they began to gain structure. White fur emerged and surrounded them, and a shape formed. Was it a dog? A wolf? No. It was a fox, a white fox, just like the one in my dreams!
Was I dreaming now? Everything felt real—everything apart from the animal in front of me.
I backed away until my back lay against the tree, but I couldn’t stop staring at the strange animal as it gracefully snaked through a gap in the bars and promptly sat down as if to guard the entrance. Our eyes locked, and the creature bowed its head and grew in size. Its fur shortened, magically becoming a flowing gown of sheer material; paws metamorphosed into hands and feet, and as the creature lifted its head, a beautiful woman with a huge mane of white hair emerged.
“Sophie Crevan. I have been waiting to meet you,” her magical voice almost sang out. “You have been chosen to be a light in this dark world, give comfort where there is no hope, and bringing salvation to many.”
Huh? What did that mean? This whole thing was too weird. I had to be asleep and having one of my dreams.
“WAKE UP, SOPHIE!” I shouted, pinching my arm.
It didn’t work.
“You are not dreaming, Sophie. I am the goddess Tokala. I have been watching over you as you’ve grown. My time will end soon, and I must discharge my duties. I am no longer flesh and bone, and my spirit cannot intervene to preserve the delicate balance in this world. That is why my seeker has passed the power to you. There are many things that you do not yet understand, but only you have the ability to halt a dreadful evil that grows strong as we speak.”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. It’s a definitely dream, just another stupid dream I need to wake up from.
“Be strong, my daughter,” the woman’s voice said. “Your dreams will guide you.”
Yes. Dreams. Exactly. Okay, come on now, Soph. Wake up!
I pressed my eyes tight, then sprang them open.
She’d gone.
She’d gone, but I was still in exactly the same place. If I had been dreaming, should I not be back in my bedroom in my comfy bed, instead of staring at some rusty old bars wondering if I was going insane? I was sure I hadn’t imagined it, so I must be crazy, either that or I’d been hallucinating—a remnant from the hospital drugs, maybe? Was that even a possibility? There had to be an explanation. It couldn’t have been real. Foxes do not just turn into beautiful women and inform people they have to save the world.
Shivering with unease along with the cold, I set off home. I needed to get back to a friendly place to think things through—not that I’d ever be able to discuss with Beth what had just happened. I could imagine the word psychiatrist cropping up if we had that particular conversation. But maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea. Perhaps I did need a professional to sort my head out, but then that would come with the risk of them throwing me into the looney bin. No. This was something I was going to have to figure out on my own.
By the time I got back to the flat, it was almost four o’clock.
“Where did you get to all day?” Beth probed as soon as I walked through the door.
“I went for a walk. I told you.”
“When? When did you tell me? I don’t remember.”
“About half pas
t seven. I knocked on your door to tell you I was going.”
“And you expected me to be awake? At half past seven? After the night I had? Mmm…” She closed her eyes in obvious remembrance.
I remembered too. It wasn’t as if they’d been quiet.
At that moment, Tom wandered through from the bathroom clad only in a damp towel, and I didn’t begrudge Beth a second of being up close and personal with his obvious charms.
“By the way, those flowers over there came for you,” Beth added as she bundled Tom back towards her bedroom.
I glanced over to the kitchen sink, which was filled with a huge bouquet of pungent-smelling, oriental-looking flowers, and wandered over to take a look. They were far too ostentatious for my taste. Whoever had sent them clearly didn’t know I would have preferred a bunch of daisies or poppies picked from the fields.
A small white envelope was tucked into the wrapping. I opened it and pulled out the card. Written on it in a flamboyant scroll was one word. Sorry. I stared at it, wondering who could have sent them. Who even knew where to send them?
Those faint two words ‘I know’ came back to me from the previous night. Vincent. Good grief. Didn’t he ever give up? I was tempted to throw the whole bunch straight into the bin, but I felt sorry for the poor flowers. It wasn’t their fault they were unwanted. Didn’t they deserve to be appreciated in their final days of life? We didn’t own a vase, so, instead, I arranged them in a pint glass and put them on the windowsill. Classy.
I spent what was left of the day on the settee with my laptop and finally emailed Mum with a few snippets of uni life and how I was getting to know the area, but I didn’t tell her about my crazy hallucination while trespassing on somebody else’s property. Somehow, I didn’t think that would go down too well. After I pressed send, I opened up the search engine and set about doing some research. I had to find answers somewhere and was prepared to sit there all night if I had to.
After a very long evening, I finally crawled into bed exhausted and more confused than ever. I’d found loads of stuff about foxes in mythology and folklore, which was all very interesting—particularly the stuff about alluring vixens tempting men—but there was far too much information to absorb all at once, and the Goddess Tokala seemed to be a total mystery. I couldn’t find any reference to her at all. I fell asleep picturing myself in a straitjacket and kicking myself for wasting my time on a pointless exercise when I should have been studying for a progress test next week.