Read Online The Ballerina and the Revolutionary by Carmilla Voiez - Free Book Online Page A

we unpacked the lentils, pulses, vegetables and rice. Chrissie started preparing food while I ran a bath. I selected a lavender and rosemary soak and added it to the steamy jet of water. The room filled with its intense scent, making me feel drowsy. The hot water made my legs prickle. Lifting my arms, I surveyed the dark red skin.
    I caught the movement of a shadow in my peripheral vision. I turned, but there was nothing there. I lifted my knee and rubbed soap onto my leg.
    Something pushed against my shoulder and, before I could react, I was forced under the water. Struggling, fighting for breath, I thrashed my arms and legs under the white foam. Bubbles fled from my lips. My throat burned as did my eyes. I tried to scream, but only released more bubbles. Then, as quickly as it began, the pressure was released. I sat up, gasping for air, looking around the empty bathroom then another heavy pressure, this time on my forehead and I was choking again, on the scalding liquid. My face blistered and my eyes were on fire. Through the searing whiteness, I saw a shape bend above me; its crazed laughter echoed around the bath tub, beating like a drum against my ears.
    ‘Filthy, filthy.’ The words were repeated again and again. The room filled with maniacal laughter.
    I was drowning and I knew it. Everything went dark then something cold grabbed me and pulled me upwards. I saw the worried face of my mother before I flopped over the edge of the bath, coughing up water. As soon as I had enough strength I pulled myself out onto the bath mat and lay there shaking and coughing until I felt able to drag a towel down from the rail and wrap myself in its warm fibres. ‘Mum?’
    There was no reply. I pushed myself to my feet and peered over the rim of the bath. A shadow lurked beneath the surface of the water.
    ‘Mum?’ I asked again. The shadow became more defined and a teenage girl lay in the bath, not me, her skin was much paler, although her hair was black. ‘Is that you Vivienne?’
    Eyes snapped open, grey and frightened.
    ‘What happened? Who did ...?’
    The image of the teenage girl evaporated. I dropped my towel and submerged my arms into the water, but found nothing.
    'Mum! Mum!' I yelled and tore at the chain to pull out the plug. My tears mingled with the draining water.
     

 
     
     
    18
     
    Chrissie looked up from the hob and caught my eye. I stood, shivering, in the kitchen doorway.
    ‘Crow?’ Chrissie stared at my naked body. ‘You okay?’
    I wrapped my arms around my chest and hips, realising she had never seen me naked before.
    ‘I think somebody tried to drown Vivienne.’
    ‘Drown Vivienne? When? She isn’t here. She’s ...’
    ‘No.’ I shook my head, squeezed my forehead between the palms of my hands and closed my eyes, tightly. ‘It was a memory, a ghost or hallucination, maybe. I was drowning. I thought I was gonna die.’
    ‘Oh my God!’ Chrissie ran towards me.
    I let her hug me, fighting the desire to recoil. Her clothes against my skin made me feel vulnerable. I regretted running to her without first strapping my ill-shapen form into its armour.
    ‘Come on. Let’s get you dressed. Tell me what happened.’
    Supporting my weight, Chrissie led me to my room.
    ‘Something ... pushing my head ... under water, but I knew ... I knew it was really Vivienne and ... it's not the first time. I saw Nanny in the garden too. Chrissie, what’s happening to me? Why am I seeing these things?’
    ‘I don’t know. Everyone’s seen ghosts, Crow. Just some people don’t like to admit it.’
    ‘Or I’m a lunatic, like my mother.’ I pulled bedclothes over my flesh, wanting to remove myself from her gaze. I needed clothing.
    She touched my arm and I scowled at her fingers. If she noticed my discomfort she made no sign.
    ‘You’re not. You’re strong. Really you are ... look.’ She smiled, sympathetically. ‘I’m here for you ... and Scott.’
    ‘What about Scott?’ I asked, shaking my arm