2. Premonitions

The second part in this new series visits Eva in the weeks leading up to the mystical event in Part One.

If you haven’t already read the first part in this series, you may want to read that first. I don’t have a working title for the series yet, but I’ll update the different parts once one comes to me.

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“Morning Aully. Breakfast time, eh?”

Eva stirred at the rumbling purr of the large, mahogany-brown feline sitting on her chest. Her first sight as she woke was his large moon-face gazing unblinkingly into hers; a welcome shot of reality as she slipped into consciousness from her dream.

That was the fourth time in the last few weeks that she’d had that dream or a similar one. Always in the early morning mist, out by the stones; always some kind of birds. This time, a solitary grey owl, watching her. Floating silently from tree to tree as she walked the path around the widest circle. There was never any feeling of threat or fear; just the birds. Watching, waiting. They always seemed to be chaperoning her in some way. And always, that sense of calm, of completeness, of… destiny.

Earlier that week, it has been a cluster of small, grey gulls, circling overhead as she walked. The previous week, a pair of pigeons, hopping around her feet as she sat in the centre of the inner circle. The first one just three doves, perched above her as she leant on one of the stones. Vigilant.

It was intriguing. Surely it had to have some meaning, but she couldn’t think of anything weighing on her mind that it might relate to. She’d have spoken to Gaenor in the village, who was known for her eerily-astute dream interpretations, but somehow, something was holding her back. Telling her this was not for sharing.

Aulos was now gently bumping her chin with his head, purring all the more intently, so she slid out from under the covers, padded barefoot across to the kitchenette of her studio flat, and reached in the cupboard for some cat food, followed in hot pursuit by a now very vocal feline. Sometimes she regretted her choice of name for him, but it fitted his colouring perfectly: that deepest, almost-black colour of those recorders that most people over a certain age encountered at primary school. At first glance, you’d say he was black, but when his velvety coat caught the light, there was a definite deep brown tinge to it.

Eva grabbed a glass of water and sank down in an armchair. Monday. A day when she typically didn’t open her jewellery workshop downstairs to the public, but it was a good opportunity to catch up on a few projects in private: a new batch of stones had arrived, and she hadn’t had a chance yet to sort through and see what treasures were in there. There was also the celtic silver and seaglass necklace she was making for a wedding commission; today would be a good day to focus on that.

People often came to her for her uncanny ability to know just what was right for a particular person: what stones they should have, what styling and symbols to incorporate. She couldn’t explain it herself; somehow she just sensed what was needed, and she was rarely far out.

She headed downstairs. Her workshop and studio setup was absolutely perfect; just out from the centre, but on a regular route for passers-by to the village and the stones. When she’d heard a year ago that a distant relative had left it to her in his will, she was surprised, as she hadn’t known he’d existed before the letter came through from his executor, but it had come at just the right time, when she was debating where to set up her business. She’d never actually visited Avebury before, but from the moment she set foot outside her new home, it was as if part of her had always been there. The studio flat above needed a little bit of work to make it hers, but it was everything she needed, and the workshop downstairs was pretty much ready for her to set up in.

And then there was Aulos. This small, shouty ball of fluff had waddled out to greet her when she first unlocked the studio flat, as if he’d been waiting for her, and what had taken her so long?! He was clearly out of early kittenhood, but couldn’t have been a year old yet. No sign of any owner, so he became part of the furniture.

It was going to be a good week. Schools were due to break up for the summer in a few days, so locals were taking the opportunity to get their Avebury fix before the crowds arrived. Eva completed her commission, and business generally was lively. She’d had a couple of shifts too up at the pub, where she helped out whenever trade picked up and they needed an extra pair of hands in the restaurant. They were always asking her to help them out more regularly - it hadn’t gone unnoticed that she had an uncanny ability to turn the most querulous visitors into peaceful, contented and appreciative diners - but she’d resisted, knowing her heart lay in her business.

Eva continued to dream, but there was no recurrence of the birds. The one theme she noticed though was the appearance of a particular word. Saturday. Saturday. It was mentioned in conversations, written on posters, showing on calendars. Always the mist, too, whenever it appeared.

So when she awoke early Saturday morning, to a murky, silent pre-dawn, she knew what she must do. She slid into an old grey dress and stepped silently out of the studio, leaving Aulos still fast asleep on the chair. Only when she slipped through the gate out to the stones did she realise she’d forgotten her shoes.

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