Chapter 113
They walked through the forest. They turned back in hope to see if they could see a carriage coming in the same direction, but there was no carriage in view. Thankfully, the tower bell from the nearby town was loud enough to direct them toward it.
Eve walked one step ahead of Eugene, one hand holding the front of her dress and the other her umbrella. They came to pass through the two poles with a burning lantern, each hanging on the nail hammered to it. Small insects hovered around the lantern, trying to get closer to its flame.
“This is Brokengroves, isn’t it?” Eve asked as they stepped inside the almost deserted town.
Most of the townsfolk appeared to have returned home, and they could hear a distant sound of a blacksmith hammering hot iron. The tower bell eventually stopped ringing, leaving a silence in the atmosphere.
“It is, milady. As it comes on the other side, we rarely come to pass this side of the towns,” Eugene replied, turning his head left and right. “The place is eerily quiet, isn’t it, Miss?” His voice lowered into a whisper at the end.
“What are the other towns around here?” questioned Eve. She heard the slight tremor of the clouds in the sky as they clashed against each other.
A few people, who had got inside the house, came to the windows to take a peek at who were intruders in the town.
“There’s Crowbury next to this one, and a little far away from these two towns is the town of Woodlock,” Eugene explained as they continued walking. “This town isn’t used to having outsiders, considering the poor state it is in. Much poorer than Meadow.”
Eve had heard about Brokengroves and had probably only come to pass this place a couple of times in the local carriage, but she had never stepped foot in here. Following the hammering sound, they came in front of the blacksmith’s shop, where the door was left ajar.
They caught sight of an elderly man leaning forward and busy working on an iron rod.
Eugene tried to get the man’s attention by calling him, “Excuse me. Our carriage wheel broke. We are looking for an extra carriage wheel here?”
When the elderly man turned his head, Eve noticed the man’s eyes held dark circles, and he was lean, with a moustache on his upper lip. He gruffly answered, “It is going to cost one crown and one florin.”
Eve pulled out the coins from her dress pocket and handed them to the elderly man, who stared at her a little longer than necessary. He then looked at the coins and slipped them into his pocket.
The elderly man then walked to one side of the shed-like place and brought the spare carriage wheel to them. Eugene quickly took it from the man. The man stated,
“You are lucky. This was the last available wheel as I had two other customers who bought a wheel each from here today.”
“It looks like the carriage travelling through this path is getting stuck in the pit before breaking,” Eugene murmured.
“Thank you for your help,” Eve bowed, and so did Eugene, who had started to carry the wheel out of the shop. Before Eve could leave, the elderly man questioned,
“Where are you from?”
“Meadow,” replied Eve, and the man nodded while staring at her. There was something eerie with the way he looked at her.
“I thought you belonged to this town,” murmured the man. “I feel like I have seen you around.”
Eve offered the blacksmith a polite smile and replied, “Maybe out of this town. Did you visit the Meadow town?”
The blacksmith shook his head, the frown on his forehead deepened. He cynically said, “People like me don’t have the time to visit places. Not at this age.” He said, “For a moment I was sure I saw you yesterday.”
Hearing this, Eve and Eugene laughed, knowing that was impossible unless Eve had a look alike. Eve replied to the man, “That wouldn’t be possible. Yesterday I was busy travelling between Meadow and Skellington. You must have mistaken me for someone else.”
But the elderly man was stubborn, and he again shook his head. He said, “I am sure I saw you yesterday.”
When a crow perched at the nearest tree cawed, Eve turned in its direction before turning back to the blacksmith. She said, “Thank you again.” As Eve and Eugene stepped out, a woman stepped inside who was the blacksmith’s wife.
With the customers gone, the woman said, “This should be enough work for the day. Did something happen?” she asked, noticing her husband looking in the direction she had walked.
“Did you see that woman?” the elderly man questioned his wife, who nodded.
“Doesn’t look like someone who comes to this town. Why do you ask?”
The man frowned, “Do you remember that woman, who accompanied wealthy men and used to be picked and dropped in different carriages?”
“I do not know which woman you are talking about. I have prepared supper and it is going to get cold,” the woman urged her husband with a tired huff.
The man started to walk before he remembered, “The one who had bruises on her face. She used to live around the corner a few years ago before she disappeared.”
“That disgraceful woman,” the expression on the woman’s face turned sour when she realised whom her husband was talking about. “Since she left the town, this place has turned out much better. When she was here, so many young women wanted to be like her, thought to earn money like her. How terrible. Who knows where she disappeared to. Why did you suddenly remember her?”
“The young lady who just visited reminded me of her,” the blacksmith frowned as he said.
His wife waved her hand and said, “She looked nothing like her. Was that a decade or two old? Didn’t she have dark hair? She looked different. And this one looks like she comes from a decent family. You are getting ol–”
When the blacksmith and his wife stepped out of the shed, they found Eve standing outside. The elderly man asked, “Did you forget something?”
Walking halfway, Eve realised they would need bolts to fix the new wheel to the carriage. Sending Eugene ahead, she had returned and had ended up hearing half the conversation between the couple. Missing the ill words spoken about the ‘woman’.
For a moment, Eve forgot why she had returned and stood there frozen. Coming back to her senses, she asked, “Do you have bolts to fix the carriage wheel?”
“Give me a moment,” said the blacksmith and went back inside the shop. He then returned with them for her. “Here.”
Eve paid the man for the bolts. Before the elderly couple could leave, she stopped them politely,
“Forgive me, but I couldn’t help but overhear what you said, that I resemble someone you knew?”
The blacksmith’s wife was the one to reply, “The woman was of no importance. Just a woman, we are all glad that she disappeared in thin air. A woman of no values, someone who slept with men who belonged to high society. You shouldn’t bother yourself with that. She looked different than you in appearance.”
Eve held the iron bolts tighter and asked, “Do you remember her name?”
“It has been so many years, I don’t remember someone insignificant like her,” the elderly woman shook her head.
“I see,” replied Eve, and when they were about to part ways, the blacksmith suddenly seemed to recollect the name. He said,
“Becky. That was her name.”
Eve walked one step ahead of Eugene, one hand holding the front of her dress and the other her umbrella. They came to pass through the two poles with a burning lantern, each hanging on the nail hammered to it. Small insects hovered around the lantern, trying to get closer to its flame.
“This is Brokengroves, isn’t it?” Eve asked as they stepped inside the almost deserted town.
Most of the townsfolk appeared to have returned home, and they could hear a distant sound of a blacksmith hammering hot iron. The tower bell eventually stopped ringing, leaving a silence in the atmosphere.
“It is, milady. As it comes on the other side, we rarely come to pass this side of the towns,” Eugene replied, turning his head left and right. “The place is eerily quiet, isn’t it, Miss?” His voice lowered into a whisper at the end.
“What are the other towns around here?” questioned Eve. She heard the slight tremor of the clouds in the sky as they clashed against each other.
A few people, who had got inside the house, came to the windows to take a peek at who were intruders in the town.
“There’s Crowbury next to this one, and a little far away from these two towns is the town of Woodlock,” Eugene explained as they continued walking. “This town isn’t used to having outsiders, considering the poor state it is in. Much poorer than Meadow.”
Eve had heard about Brokengroves and had probably only come to pass this place a couple of times in the local carriage, but she had never stepped foot in here. Following the hammering sound, they came in front of the blacksmith’s shop, where the door was left ajar.
They caught sight of an elderly man leaning forward and busy working on an iron rod.
Eugene tried to get the man’s attention by calling him, “Excuse me. Our carriage wheel broke. We are looking for an extra carriage wheel here?”
When the elderly man turned his head, Eve noticed the man’s eyes held dark circles, and he was lean, with a moustache on his upper lip. He gruffly answered, “It is going to cost one crown and one florin.”
Eve pulled out the coins from her dress pocket and handed them to the elderly man, who stared at her a little longer than necessary. He then looked at the coins and slipped them into his pocket.
The elderly man then walked to one side of the shed-like place and brought the spare carriage wheel to them. Eugene quickly took it from the man. The man stated,
“You are lucky. This was the last available wheel as I had two other customers who bought a wheel each from here today.”
“It looks like the carriage travelling through this path is getting stuck in the pit before breaking,” Eugene murmured.
“Thank you for your help,” Eve bowed, and so did Eugene, who had started to carry the wheel out of the shop. Before Eve could leave, the elderly man questioned,
“Where are you from?”
“Meadow,” replied Eve, and the man nodded while staring at her. There was something eerie with the way he looked at her.
“I thought you belonged to this town,” murmured the man. “I feel like I have seen you around.”
Eve offered the blacksmith a polite smile and replied, “Maybe out of this town. Did you visit the Meadow town?”
The blacksmith shook his head, the frown on his forehead deepened. He cynically said, “People like me don’t have the time to visit places. Not at this age.” He said, “For a moment I was sure I saw you yesterday.”
Hearing this, Eve and Eugene laughed, knowing that was impossible unless Eve had a look alike. Eve replied to the man, “That wouldn’t be possible. Yesterday I was busy travelling between Meadow and Skellington. You must have mistaken me for someone else.”
But the elderly man was stubborn, and he again shook his head. He said, “I am sure I saw you yesterday.”
When a crow perched at the nearest tree cawed, Eve turned in its direction before turning back to the blacksmith. She said, “Thank you again.” As Eve and Eugene stepped out, a woman stepped inside who was the blacksmith’s wife.
With the customers gone, the woman said, “This should be enough work for the day. Did something happen?” she asked, noticing her husband looking in the direction she had walked.
“Did you see that woman?” the elderly man questioned his wife, who nodded.
“Doesn’t look like someone who comes to this town. Why do you ask?”
The man frowned, “Do you remember that woman, who accompanied wealthy men and used to be picked and dropped in different carriages?”
“I do not know which woman you are talking about. I have prepared supper and it is going to get cold,” the woman urged her husband with a tired huff.
The man started to walk before he remembered, “The one who had bruises on her face. She used to live around the corner a few years ago before she disappeared.”
“That disgraceful woman,” the expression on the woman’s face turned sour when she realised whom her husband was talking about. “Since she left the town, this place has turned out much better. When she was here, so many young women wanted to be like her, thought to earn money like her. How terrible. Who knows where she disappeared to. Why did you suddenly remember her?”
“The young lady who just visited reminded me of her,” the blacksmith frowned as he said.
His wife waved her hand and said, “She looked nothing like her. Was that a decade or two old? Didn’t she have dark hair? She looked different. And this one looks like she comes from a decent family. You are getting ol–”
When the blacksmith and his wife stepped out of the shed, they found Eve standing outside. The elderly man asked, “Did you forget something?”
Walking halfway, Eve realised they would need bolts to fix the new wheel to the carriage. Sending Eugene ahead, she had returned and had ended up hearing half the conversation between the couple. Missing the ill words spoken about the ‘woman’.
For a moment, Eve forgot why she had returned and stood there frozen. Coming back to her senses, she asked, “Do you have bolts to fix the carriage wheel?”
“Give me a moment,” said the blacksmith and went back inside the shop. He then returned with them for her. “Here.”
Eve paid the man for the bolts. Before the elderly couple could leave, she stopped them politely,
“Forgive me, but I couldn’t help but overhear what you said, that I resemble someone you knew?”
The blacksmith’s wife was the one to reply, “The woman was of no importance. Just a woman, we are all glad that she disappeared in thin air. A woman of no values, someone who slept with men who belonged to high society. You shouldn’t bother yourself with that. She looked different than you in appearance.”
Eve held the iron bolts tighter and asked, “Do you remember her name?”
“It has been so many years, I don’t remember someone insignificant like her,” the elderly woman shook her head.
“I see,” replied Eve, and when they were about to part ways, the blacksmith suddenly seemed to recollect the name. He said,
“Becky. That was her name.”
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