The Tens by Vanessa Jones (tharntype novel english TXT) 📕

at the bottom or pushed up past their elbows so the material billowed out like gigot sleeves.

Sophie trod carefully—as much as her heavy legs seemed to allow— and made an awkward 'ha' sound towards the closest woman. 'Did I crash a reunion or something?'

Most of the women tittered around her in a circular echo. Like the birds, Sophie thought. 'Quite like that, yes. We are a "re"-union of sorts.'

'I didn't mean to intrude! Thanks so much for looking after me last night. It's appreciated. I'll probably head to my car now and go straight to a hospital. Yes, I think that's best,' Sophie croaked without enthusiasm.

'At least stay for breakfast? Jenny does a really good damper that you'll love! Assuming you're not vegan or anything?'

Sophie tried to giggle but found that she couldn't. 'Not vegan.'

'Well then! We'd love you to join us. It would also make us feel better knowing you are well enough to see yourself home.'

Sophie sat down and smacked at her thighs trying to get some feeling back, whilst two of the women smile creepily at her. Even in the gentle sun, she couldn't get any proper feeling back in her legs.

The sharp laugh of Clive from somewhere in the heart of the largest tent intruded and Sophie was reminded of Alex. Some breakfast would give her the strength to walk a little further— she must have been only off by a few hundred metres—and surprise Carla. And maybe Alex. She pictured Carla opening the door, her curly hair wound tighter around her face, a pair of flannelette pyjamas with some kitschy clouds or sheep on them, each button fastened. Complemented by fluffy slippers. Or was she the type to get up extra early and Sophie would greet her on the front stoop, stretching her hamstrings after her daily jog? Alex would be in the kitchen, dutifully making her coffee and absently looking out the window, wondering if he could surprise Carla with some morning sex. Sophie merely a memory that was leaving him more and more each day. The imagined scenes made Sophie's stomach feel like the smouldering coal that lay near her feet. So, she looked across to the woman who offered her a small bowl of food and nodded simply, as Everley came up and wrapped a blanket around her like a cape.

The women were birds, swooping with their crocheted wings to sweep Sophie around, wherever they thought she should be. It had been a long time since anyone had taken Sophie under their wing and it was too enticing not to enjoy, if only for the morning. As she pulled the ends of the blanket towards each other to cover her chest, she noticed the jumpers of the women all had a black "X" printed on the front.

Sophie listened to a single magpie warbling close by. The rolling gargle made her feel unhurried and despite herself, she dozed again as the women silently and diligently worked around her.

Sophie came to, hearing the women of the camp stirring with pots clanging, laughter and benign chatter that all had its own saccharine cadence. A softness to the edge of their words that felt surreal. Like a meditation recording was playing on repeat. It felt like a tonic, compared to the harried noise of her mind recently.

'Oh, you poor, poor thing,' concern washed Clive's face out and he lightly held Sophie's hand as he suddenly appeared in front of her again. His metallic breath swished around her.

'You're okay, my dear. You've just had a bit of a spill. We're taking good care of you. You're going to be okay.' He sat down beside her and sipped his tea out of a vintage floral teacup, which looked oddly out of place there in the middle of the woods.

The campsite in the clearing looked different during the afternoon, once the bleariness of the morning had worn off. It looked like a completely new world in the daylight. Stationed behind the ring of tents and pushed back all the way until it looked like it was part of the woods, was an enormous enclosed hay shed. It was wide enough to house two tractors, side by side and Sophie couldn't gauge how long it was from where she was sitting. There were no windows, no holes and no visible openings. The shed looked reasonably new and the shiny aluminium clashed against the weathered tents. It was hard not to look at and pulled focus away from other more intriguing sights, such as the raging bonfire and the collection of disjointed people that were dotted around the encampment.

Clive emanated warmth, not just a temperature, but a kind of aura that felt like golden syrup. Despite herself, Sophie felt it permeate her every cell and her body begged her to surrender to a deep relaxation, like lying in the bursting sun on a cool day. If she was honest with herself, she'd say that it was the first time that she had ever felt taken care of and relaxed and there was something ever so appealing about the experience. However, there was another, more rigid, part of her mind that reminded her that these people were strangers and she was quite possibly very ill. Physically and mentally.

‘Do you have any idea when you can help me get back to my car?’ Sophie asked flatly.

‘We thought it best that our nurse check you out first and then we’ll walk you back to your car, if that’s okay? Just to be safe. She’s just returning from the city and should be back any minute.’

It made sense to Sophie. So she relaxed a little and took in her surroundings properly. ‘What’s beyond here?’ She pointed in the direction of where she believed Carla’s house— and possible where Alex— was.

‘Well, not much really. More woods.’

‘Oh,’ she said disappointed.

Although there was a denser ring of trees around the clearing, near the fire were intermittent clusters