Hunted

Twenty: Tea and Cake

Charlotte knocked on Matt's door, her hands trembling slightly. She took a steadying breath, trying to suffocate her growing anxiety. A floral-patterned tray, carrying a heavy teapot and a particularly beautiful looking lemon cake, was balanced precariously in the crook of her left arm. She hadn't seen Matt since breakfast and she knew he had skipped supper so she was hoping he wouldn't object to having tea with her, though she knew he would never refuse her.

The two weeks that Daphne had allotted Charlotte had passed by in a blur, too fast to really define as a reality. Yet she had done as she was bid; she had smiled and laughed, she had eaten heartily and appeared bright and good-humoured at all times when she was around the others. On her own however she felt desolate and alone, the panic of facing the real world, its real dangers, choking her.

She still found it almost impossible to believe what she was now having to face. Daphne had always been reluctant to have Charlotte at her house, a fact Charlotte was very aware of. And she could also understand the need for Daphne to protect her family, that was a basic instinct, but she had been so cruel about it, her words cutting. Each word had been said with the aim of hurting Charlotte, of making her feel guilty for Matt's decision to take her away from Kingston. Charlotte wondered at times was it jealousy on Daphne's part, jealousy that she had become so important to Matt, but she never seemed to treat Rhian with such venom, or at least not in Charlotte's presence.

Matt opened the door, stealing Charlotte from her bitter thoughts. "Charlotte," he sighed, a smile appearing on his face.

"I brought something to eat," she breathed, trying to hide her unease. "You skipped supper - Tabatha wasn't happy".

Matt stepped back allowing her enter his room. Charlotte didn't hesitate, but moved in before her nerve failed. Placing the tray down, she flashed Matt a quick smile.

"I thought you wouldn't object to some tea and cake," she nodded towards the tray. Matt closed the door, rubbing his hand along his jaw as he appraised her, his eyes narrowed slightly, gauging her mood. He looked immensely better than he had two weeks ago. His colour and temperament had greatly improved. His conversations made far more sense, he was, in general, much better company and the sense of exhaustion had vanished from his face. Still he did not seem capable of sleeping without Harris' concoction, which Charlotte had somehow managed to have him take every night so far, unbeknownst to Matt.

He stood at the door and flashed a crooked grin, his brown eyes glinting mischievously as he nodded eagerly. Charlotte's heart raced at that spark in his eyes. It seemed, to her, a sort of reassurance that he was returning to his old self.

"Sit over by the fire," he offered, taking the tray in one hand and following Charlotte to the pale grey sofa. Matt placed the tray on the table before them and sat beside her with a sigh.

"How was your day?" she asked, trying to read his face carefully.

"Yeah, it was fine," he nodded, turning to face her. "I was with Freddie and Harris".

Charlotte nodded in acknowledgement. It had been the first time she had been in Matt's room, a room mainly composed of variations of grey, silver and rich mahogany. In comparison to Freddie's room it was tidy and far less cluttered. Photos of his family were scattered across the mantelpiece above the roaring fire. One of a woman, unknown to Charlotte, sat in the centre, her dark brown eyes staring at them happily. "Is that your mother?" Charlotte asked, vaguely aware of the similarities between this woman and her sons.

"Yeah," he nodded, plucking at the threads on the sofa distractedly. "Her name was Michelle".

"Michelle Haskins?" Charlotte repeated, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "It's a nice name".