The Aurora (Aurora Saga, Book 1) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Ten minutes; James always leaves the cottage at eleven to go into the village.
    Londuo took a deep breath before apprehensively walking out to her black Ford Mustang.
     

Chapter Five
    James hurriedly drove his Land Rover back home to his family’s small remote cottage near Brampton, where his mother lay sick. He had been in the local village for provisions, but his thoughts were never far away from her.
    Carol Brandon was only sixty-two and had recently become overwhelmed by a serious illness that the doctors and specialists could not comprehend. Carol was a stubborn and reclusive person. She had ignored the medical advice to stay in hospital and even James’ protests could not stop her from discharging herself to return home. For days James tried desperately to get her to seek medical help, but to no avail. She told James that one day he would understand why.
    His mother’s illness reminded James of the sad moment when he lost his father twelve years earlier, when he was only a child. Carol had told him that Lex had died of an incurable illness, and now James’ worst fear was that she was going to die too.
    James turned off the narrow country lane, between the two tall stone columns capped with carved pyramids, which marked the entrance to his home. Everything seemed tranquil as he drove steadily up the long gravel driveway. The wind was calm and he could hear the water gushing in the nearby stream. The small cream cottage set between two smaller outbuildings looked softly bathed by the last rays of light of the sun setting over the Cumbrian Mountains. The bare oak tree in the centre of the courtyard ringed by fallen leaves, casted a shadow across the roof of the cottage and the hillside beyond. There was a solitary dim light shining from an upstairs window of the cottage.
    As James pulled up just in front of the cottage, his attention was drawn to the far corner of one of the courtyard buildings. There, in the shade, the front of another car was just visible. He got out of the Land Rover and walked closer. It was a black convertible Ford Mustang.
    James’ heart missed a beat at the thought of his mother possibly being alone with a stranger. He was now anxious and feeling guilty to have been away, even if for only thirty minutes. He wasted no more time and rushed into the cottage.
    He could hear the voice of an old woman talking to his mother in her bedroom upstairs. His mother’s voice was very faint. After a few steps up the steep narrow wooden staircase to her room, the voices stopped abruptly. Suddenly the bedroom door opened and a tall figure appeared at the top of the stairs.
    The woman had her back to him. All James could make out was her long silver hair, which moved gently in the draught from the door when she closed it.
    ‘Who are you?’ James asked, standing on the staircase.
    The woman froze for a second, and then quickly covered the left-hand side of her face with a handkerchief to hide a tattoo, before turning towards him.
    ‘I said, who are you?’ His voice was raised.
    ‘James,’ she said in a concerned voice.
    She stared at him, her eyes fixed on his.
    James could now see her wrinkled face and light-green eyes. She looked old and appeared anxious. He suddenly felt very uncomfortable.
    ‘What are you doing here?’ he questioned.
    ‘I had to come.’ She paused for a moment. ‘I’m Lon… No, I can’t. Your mother needs you, James. I have to go… You should not have seen me,’ the old woman said in an American accent.
    She quickly moved down the stairs and pushed by him; her right hand brushed his. James unexpectedly felt cold. He lifted his hand and looked at it, clenching it slowly. It was an eerie feeling, like someone had just walked over his grave.
    By the time he looked back to her the door of the cottage had clicked shut. The old woman had gone. James was surprised how agile she was for her age.
    Who was that? James thought to himself and hurried up the rest of the stairs. If