Chapter 1
“It’s repugnant, it’s against God – it’s Queer!”
The words kept repeating themselves in Anne’s head, as she tried to convince herself that it was all for the best, and that she really didn’t care that much. Only her heart was aching so much she thought she was actually going to pass out as she walked briskly from Crow Nest.
How had she let Ann so much under her skin? – No one had ever gotten that close to her, and Anne had been certain that for once she had found someone who understood her, who got her – but she had been wrong. Tears threatened to overspill as she ascended the hillside, and she cursed quietly her own weakness when it came to that girl. She could call her back and Anne would turn around without a second of doubt.
Anne had barely made it around the corner when a man stepped out in the way,
“Going home?”
Anne stopped, she hadn’t seen him, she had been lost in thoughts,
“What the hell –“
The sentence wasn’t finished because the man had struck her in the face with his bat, and she was knocked to the ground, feeling a stinging in her cheek and blood running down. Her hat was a good two feet away from her, but she stood up quickly before he got another blow in. But he managed a firm grip on her neck, punching her into the little opening in the stonewall, whilst she twisted and turned the best she could, trying to get him to loosen his neck-breaking grip on her. But the man pushed her up the stonewall, and the blow to the back of her head made her dizzy for a second. ‘That’s it, this is how it ends’ Anne thought bitterly, as the man pushed his bat to her throat, she tried to push against it so that she could breathe but it was getting heavier by each second as her brain was by no means getting enough oxygen.
“Some folks think it is time for you to go home, Miss Lister.” He spat venomously wearing a twisted grin. Anne was fighting for dear life, moaning and groaning in reply and the man laughed and started to lift her skirt up.
“You dirty fucking Jack.”
Her eyes widened when she felt his hand touch her queer, ‘Oh God no”’ she thought as she mustered all strength she had, succeeding to push him away from her – giving him a punch with her right fist, her hand bruising as it struck him. But the adrenalin was high so for the moment being she didn’t care about the pain shooting up her arm. Anne bent down and threw his bat as far away she could. The man was infuriated by this, aiming a punch for her stomach, and she got him in the head again despite going double. The man then gave her a strong straight punch to her nose, and she could feel something burst and felt the blood streaming down her face. She was on the ground but got up through much pain and the man came closer, threateningly, and Anne thought to herself that if he wanted to, he would succeed in killing her. She could barely breathe, her ribs might be broken, but he stopped an inch from her face,
“Stay away from Miss Walker!” He hissed and then he drew back and spat her in the face. Anne flinched only slightly, watching him as he disappeared through the opening in the stonewall. She did not move an inch until he was out of sight, and as soon as he was, Anne bent over double, and spat out all the blood in her mouth, dry heaving for a second before slowly standing up straight – it hurt her every muscle to do so and she hissed in pain, praying that her ribs weren’t cracked, before she toppled over to where her hat was. Anne bent down to pick her hat up and was struck with a terrible light-headedness, making her stumble and then everything went dark.
Anne could hear the faint sounds of voices from afar, her eyes remained shut and she found them heavy to open. Her body felt numb, and her head hurt as she made the slightest of moves. Stunned she moved her pounding head a little once more, was her head supported by a pillow? – Last she remembered, she had been bending down to pick up her hat, had she fainted? Anne wanted to groan; fainting was just something she didn’t do. She did wonder though at her not being in the mud still – who had found her? – And, where was she?
Anne soon drifted out of consciousness again; the pain most acute.
Sometime later Anne woke again, and she was glad to find the pain had lessened, if but little, with her rest. The muffled sound of voices had died out and Anne could only guess it was late in the night, ‘Good’ she thought, it only meant she needn’t talk about the fact that she had been beaten up with anyone for another while, the whole thing was embarrassing.
Though her eyes still drooped heavy Anne was now able to force her eyes to open, but she was met with the oddest sight. It was very familiar and looked quite ancient, had they really brought her to Shibden? Anne slowly turned her head despite the pain that shot through with every movement. It did look like her room at Shibden, but how on earth had she, or they managed to get there? It had to be impossible lest she had been unconscious for a long while. Anne finally turned her head to the left and noticed a sleeping form sitting next to her bed. It was a young female, she thought she looked a bit like another she knew but she couldn’t for the world place the woman in her mind at the moment. Why was she was sitting with her during the night though? – The female looked far too elegant and well-dressed to be a servant of any kind, so Anne must assume that she was some or other of her sister’s friends or maybe this was the kind soul that had found her? A sudden sharp shot of pain had Anne groan loudly, and it awoke the mystery companion. The girl looked relieved, and grasped Anne’s hand, Anne looked at the woman who was brown haired, and brown eyed, and felt as confused as before.
“Miss Lister, you are finally awake!” The girl cried with great joy, and Anne’s lips curled into an uncertain smile.
“It appears I am.” She replied, her voice hoarse as her mouth was dry. The woman helped her to some water and Anne was grateful when her mouth once more was moistened.
“How are you feeling? How is your head faring?” The girl asked her as she set down Anne’s glass for her.
“Eh, it, my body feels numb and my head hurts. I might have cracked a rib.” Anne stammered feeling unsure of how to speak to this woman, especially when her mind was all foggy. The woman gave her a sympathetic smile,
“It was a nasty gash you got there.”
Anne hummed in some kind of agreement, but then her curiosity got the better of her, she knew that woman from somewhere;
“I’m terribly sorry, but who are you?”
The woman looked alarmed, and suddenly uncomfortable,
“Do you not remember me?”
Anne felt sorry at the girl’s apparent distress but couldn’t place her in her mind, though she knew that she had seen her before.
“I cannot seem to remember your name.”
The answer clearly wasn’t the one the girl was hoping for, because she paled considerably and stuttered,
“I’m Catherine Rawson.”
With one hand over her hurting head she addressed the girl again,
“Oh, we were… you were there – in the Lake district…” Anne trailed off her head pounding profusely, Catherine nodded,
“Yes, you came and joined me and Ann quite unexpectantly.”
Anne was still confused though, because why on earth would Catherine Rawson be sitting with her during the night? She wasn’t even that fond of her. She had been a sourpuss that whole time, had she suddenly changed her mind about Anne?
“I should tell them that you have woken up.” Catherine stood up, but Anne stopped her before she could leave,
“Just the one thing, what happened?” Anne’s voice was a bare whisper, and Catherine frowned,
“You were thrown off a horse.”
Anne’s eyes widened, and she watched as Catherine disappeared through the door, ‘thrown of a horse’? What on earth was going on?