SPITE
By
Elizabeth James
Copyright©Elizabeth James 2010
Published at Smashwords
Smashwords License Statement
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be
re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.
Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction.
The names, characters and incidents described in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form without prior written permission from either the author or publisher.
Two years earlier
Behind the very ordinary large blue front door of one of the posh townhouses in Marcham, one of life’s everyday rituals was taking place for Anna Mason and her friend Caroline. Most mornings about 10.30 am they met for coffee and a gossip and today was no different. Well, it would have been no different had Caroline not got it into her head that she was now a Psychic, something apparently she’d just discovered and which had made for interesting morning chats for the past few weeks. She didn’t however look very psychic, she looked quite plain, a middle-aged suburban housewife and mother who from the outside appeared quite drab and ordinary. They were neighbours foremost, but had become quite good friends over the years, and Anna had found that you had to indulge Caroline in her little fantasies every so often. We had Nail-artist, Jewellery Maker, Doll Creator and now Clairvoyant and Psychic, Anna often wondered where it would all end. It did however make her friend interesting, her own life being one of work, children, more work and little else. Anna frequently found herself wondering what next; it was all too bizarre, sitting here with her slightly plump friend in the faded jeans and over dyed middle-aged hair, trying to take her seriously while she reeled off the next foolproof plan to make a few quid. As Anna studied her, she could see in her eyes that Caroline really believed this one, she suspected that any day she would come round and her friend would be wearing a gypsy skirt and gold loop earrings, or hovering her hands over a crystal ball under a tented ceiling. They sat just a few feet apart just as they had a hundred times before, all that was parting them was a large square kitchen table and a plate of biscuits.
The notion of Caroline’s hidden psychic abilities had caused at first a great deal of amusement between the mothers in their street when Caroline had mentioned it some three weeks ago. Since then the tittering had all but stopped, their unkind gossiping never quite reaching the ears of their neighbour, who for all her faults was well liked amongst the small group. Anna was also more than sceptical, believing it all to be mumbo-jumbo solely made up for those with weak minds, made no secret of her contempt for such things, telling Caroline this on many occasions. But there was something about Caroline this morning that was even more lively than normal. Anna could feel it, that itchy excitement she always got when she started a new project and Anna knew that by past form there was no way Caroline could keep it to herself all morning. She delighted and enjoyed sharing every aspect of her life with whomever would listen. She was one of those strange women who truly believe every woman or man they meet in an internet chat room is their friend unquestioningly, so naive Anna thought.
“How are the children?” she paused briefly “Jack?” Caroline asked chirpily mentioning Anna’s youngest son first, “I think he’s alright, to tell the truth, since joining the Army we don’t hear from him too often, but he seems OK” inwardly cursing her youngest son for being so inconsiderate. Her reference to Jack of more interest to her friend than Anna’s other children being an army wife herself, and she took an extra keen interest in his whereabouts.
“Does he still like it?”
“yeh, loves it I think” she responded while pouring milk into her oversize coffee cup.
“What about the girls and Eddie? Don’t see him about so much nowadays; I suppose he’s out working and clubbing now?” Anna was never sure if her friend was really interested or just plain nosey but she had never been one for secrets so didn’t generally mind these gentle prodding sessions. “The girls are fine, growing up a little too fast for Martin though I think. Lucy will be fifteen at the end of the month, can you believe it?” she paused and took a sip of her coffee before continuing “she’s a bit of a handful though, you know, always wanting to go out and back-chatting” she added talking about her eldest daughter who seemed at the moment to intent on causing as much mayhem in the house as she possible could.
“That’s girls for you: had the same with my Jess” Caroline offered in an attempt at motherly solidarity “right little pain in the backside for a year or two” sympathetically adding, “she’ll grow out of it” almost shuddering as she recalled her own daughters performances at that age, glad in truth it was well behind her now.
“I’m not so sure myself, she is really putting us through it at the moment and the mood swings are unbelievable” Anna continued, finding herself for once wanting any advice she could get on her daughter and her erratic moods. Caroline however just continued completely oblivious to Anna’s wish to talk about her elder daughter and nonchalantly added “you were probably the same” “I somehow don’t think I was, my Dad would have killed me” remembering the fear and trepidation she had felt at her fathers wrath as a teenager.
“Lace, how’s she? Little quieter I hope, she’s getting such a pretty little thing now, isn’t she?” Caroline rattled out too quickly, wanting to steer the conversation away from the children really, to get the pleasantries’ out of the way. She wanted to share her latest interest with her friend and the excitement of building up to it was killing her.
Anna looked at her fondly, she could see it in her face, the unmasked excitement, but she wasn’t going to make it easy for her because she knew she would just end up having to somehow moderate her disapproval into a language that wouldn’t upset her friend; who’s intentions albeit sometimes misguided were never designed to upset or hurt anyone. With each venture her belief in it never faded until it finished, (normally as quickly as it had begun), most lasting merely a month or two, Anna sighed inwardly with exasperation. Most Anna conceded usually cost her money or time, she either purchased a product or allowed practise sessions to be taken out on her. Instinctively she looked down at her nails, they’d only just recovered from the nail implants or whatever they were meant to be from Caroline’s last venture.
“Yes she’s O.K and Eddies, well, just Eddie. Work, golf, football, out, the boy never stops” fondly thinking of her eldest son, his tall handsome picture coming into her mind. “All grown up now, I expect he’ll be leaving home soon as well” she added as an afterthought almost to herself.
“Lovely boy though Anna, he must have all the girlies after him now?” Anna had found that many of the group seemed to quite like her eldest son, flattered by any attention he gave them inadvertently out of politeness. Once the bloom of youth had faded, the rose-bud lips turned to frayed petal lips ravaged by age, to be flattered by a young man was very appealing indeed, and Anna’s son caused old faces to blush just a little with remembered rendezvous.
“Don’t know, he never says” in truth Eddie really didn’t talk of such things. “Martins just busy at work, you know how it is, how’s Paul still busy in Winchester?” she felt it only polite to return the question to check on the progress of the illusive Mr. Piper. “Pretty much, coming home this weekend, so that’ll be good” Caroline spoke quietly, preoccupied with a small box she was holding in her hands, her absent husband obviously the last thing on her mind.
Anna hadn’t initially noticed her friend fiddling with the box, but she could tell now that whatever it was, it was the same thing that was exciting Caroline who was obviously dying to share with her friend. Bracing herself for yet another strange, strained but fascinating conversation “here goes”, she found herself thinking, taking the final sip of coffee from her mug “What’ve you got there?” she asked. Almost before she had asked the question, Caroline had launched into full sales mode, Anna barely knew what had hit her.
“Tarot Cards” she said quickly already taking them out of the box and beginning to shuffle them randomly, their large bright forms splashing colour over the rough wooden table.
“Going to let me do yours? Please, pretty please?” her friend looked at her with her best her voice offering her best pleading attempt. “I’ve been dying to try them out Anna; you’ll let me do it to you….. Won’t you?” she asked again, now quite earnestly.
“Caroline I really don’t believe in all that bullshit, you know I don’t” Anna voice had developed a whining, please leave me alone note that always made her sound churlish. “Just one, please, I promise I won’t ask you again” her friend pushed the now reassembled pack gently across the large pine table towards Anna’s hand that was still cupped around her cooling coffee mug.
“Caroline must we?” Her annoyance at being asked barely disguised, the sarcasm in her voice however, was totally lost on Caroline who was in no mood to be rejected. She’d waited since the children went to school this morning for this moment and she was determined to get Anna to let her practise. Of all their friends Caroline knew that Anna pretty much kept herself to herself, she didn’t generally indulge in too much gossip and certainly never said anything nasty or vicious about anyone. Anna always had a quiet professional, polished manner that Caroline admired, although she did find her somewhat hard sometimes and outspoken. Caroline also knew that Anna would respect her request not to tell anyone and would be too polite to laugh openly at her attempts if they failed. The look on Caroline’s face, the sparkling excitement that was lurking behind her crystal green eyes made Anna suddenly smile; she was like a child in a sweet shop, so keen to try everything it didn’t matter if it made them sick.
“Oh Caroline, what are you like!” the statement confirmed Caroline’s wish, concession, Caroline knew it by the tone in her friends voice that she had conceded. She could hardly stop herself from getting up and giving her a hug.
Before Anna had got her thoughts together Caroline was busy again, clearing the cups from the table and moving to a seat to be closer to Anna’s side, pushing the now redundant plate of biscuits out of the way. She spread the deck of cards in a large semi-circle on the rough board of the table “pick twelve” Caroline instructed. “I must be mad” Anna said under her breath.
“Right, now I am going to place them face-down on the table and you must pick them in order, OK?”
“OK” Anna replied, already regretting her decision.
Caroline spread the twelve cards in a smaller semi-circle and one by one Anna picked her cards. Caroline carefully laid them in a square ascending from her left hand, four upwards towards Anna, then four across the top and four back again to the right like a square with no bottom line. Once the square was complete Caroline turned to her friend “Ready” the stupid smile still bursting to get out her excitement palpable in the small kitchen. “As I’ll ever be” was the sarcastic response, “Oh don’t be like that” her friend remonstrated, still beaming from ear to ear.
One by one the cards were turned over. Large colourful cards or they should have been, but with each card turned the sequence began to look darker and darker. Three of swords, two of swords, four of swords or something like that Anna couldn’t really remember the exact sequence or the exact cards. It didn’t however, take a genius to see that these cards looked mean and foreboding. Three of candles, angel, skeleton, cup thing and so it went on until all twelve were face up in the square. Anna looked up and caught her friend looking at the cards with a troubled expression on her face her green eyes studying intently the combination in front of her, a small furrow beginning to form in the centre of her forehead. “Now don’t take to much notice of this will you, I am just going to tell you what it means, its all crap anyway, remember I am only practising” her friend babbled, trying to make light of the cards in front of her. Anna could tell that Caroline was agitated and that the excited look she’d had in her eyes a few minutes before had all but been extinguished by whatever the cards on the table were telling her. “Get on with it then? Anna said by now curious herself as to what this all meant to make her over exuberant friend suddenly so subdued. “Let’s just leave it?” Caroline offered “No lets not” her friend rebuked, “you wanted to do it, so do it, its cods-wallop anyway” Anna said to her sternly holding her gaze, her own inquisitiveness now getting the better of her.
Caroline began by explaining that each card represented a portion of the year and that it was a full years reading not just a week or a month.
Caroline cleared her throat and began solemnly “You have a medical man, in a white coat giving you grave news” she began “someone is very sick here, dying” her long finger pointing to the next card “things are very dark for you with no way out, you have three candles burning, three friends will guide you and help you” “the end is close, but not for one, you will get through it, a juggler.”
It continued in this vain for several minutes, darkness, illness, death, despair, more illness more despair, only it appeared did the three candles offer any hope at all. “You know what this is about, it has already started” her friend was saying whilst pointing to the last card in the sequence with her long nail gently tapping the picture.
“What’s what about?” Anna asked completely confused by now.
“No one in my house is ill, everyone is fine” she did however feel for whatever reason slightly disturbed by these cards and the look on her friends face.
“It is what is going to happen in the next twelve months, apparently” Caroline offered by way of an explanation, trying to sound more light-hearted then she felt, wishing now that she hadn’t started this stupid game.
“You won’t know if its true until after its happened” Caroline continued, sheepishly “and as you say it’s a load of old crap anyway, I am no more psychic than you are” and she tried to laugh but it sort of stuck in her throat, settling into a nervous tremor.
“Tell me again” Anna asked, but by now Caroline had gathered the cards back into the pack and was leaning backwards on her chair to put them out of the way on the worktop behind her, well away from the kitchen table. “Lets have another coffee” she offered pulling the biscuit plate back toward the centre of the table in an attempt to pretend that nothing had happened, but both Anna and Caroline felt uneasy. Even after they had had another coffee and chat about everything and everybody the strange reading was playing on both their minds, leading to uneasy silences, something that never happened. “I better go” Anna said as soon as seemed polite to make her excuses and leave “see you later in the week?” Caroline asked, feeling already guilty that she had cast this unsettled feeling upon her friend. “Yes, you come to mine” “OK” and with this Anna scurried quickly out of the front door along twenty yards of pavement to the safety of her own home, slamming the large wooden door with a sigh of relief, this morning had left her tired and strangely deflated.
The incident had unnerved Anna, her normal calm composure somehow rattled by the strange ranting of her equally strange friend. She found herself trying to rack her brains as to who was ill, who could be getting ill and what did it all mean, but everything was fine behind her large black-door in the same posh road in Marcham.
By the time her husband came home, although she related the mornings goings on to him, it had become a source of laughter within the Mason house, but an irking, feeling seemed to be lingering in her mind, “Stupid woman” she muttered to herself lf more than once over the next few days.
Chapter 1
Anna
“I don’t understand?” a slight shiver ran down Anna’s back as she sat upright in the posh leather chair in the plain white walled office, what an odd thing to say she thought and for a split second felt sure she must have misheard. The shiver was closely followed by the strange sensation of the blood draining from her face whilst at the same time, the walls of the stark office were warping around her, closing her in. The bright modern art on the walls began stretching and compressing merging into large blocks of colour, tightening its grasp around her. Sensing her difficulty
Dr. Jessop a tall, thin, middle aged man of no particular note, (excepting he had an enormous mole on the side of his neck that Anna found it impossible not to focus on every time they met) repeated the statement again, only this times more slowly, his voice gentle and quiet.
“Lucy is a heroin addict, Mrs Mason” that even quiet voice sending the tiniest sound out into the world. Anna looked at him squarely trying to gauge from the expression in his eyes if he was telling the truth, her dark eyes fixed on his face. He didn’t flinch or smile, his eyes held a sorrowful look, no maybe it was pity she thought. Her stomach churned over and over and a panicky flutter seemed to be beginning in her chest; she could feel a hot burning in her cheeks as the blood rushed back with a surge of anger, her dark brown eyes filling with tears.
“Please Martin, tell him”
Instinctively she turned her head slowly his right, her hand flicking her dark hair backwards over her shoulder as she did so until she was looking directly at her husband, but he wasn’t looking towards her, his eyes were staring down at the floor at the dark green carpet its brown threads visible in patches beneath the chairs, worn and tired. “Martin” she spoke his name quietly tilting her body forward on her chair as if to get his attention.
“Martin, tell him Martin, this is absolute rubbish”. The figure remained still, his back stooped over, his elbows resting of his knees and his chin cupped securely in his large hands. She could see his intense blue eyes still not looking at her were now focused on the Doctor, who fidgeted uncomfortable on his chair.
“Martin” she snapped abruptly thinking this would get him out of his daze and make him look at her, but he didn’t he just continued to stare at the Doctor who by now had crossed and uncrossed his legs several times uneasily.
“Martin, for Gods sake, tell him” she repeated her voice now raised irritated that her husband seemed to be refusing to back her up. She could still hear the monotones from the Doctor in the background trying to finish his sentence she was watching his mouth move and his head nod in reassurance, but couldn’t hear what he was saying she switched her eyes from her husband to the Doctor. Strange tingling sensations seemed to be seeping into her face as his thin tiny words twisted through the still office air into her ears.
“She doesn’t inject”. With this she turned her head quickly to her left to look at her daughter who was sitting next to her; Lucy was bent over double her feet tucked under her body in the chair, her arms encircling her knees with only the top of her head visible, her dark shiny hair covering her face.
“Lucy” she said quietly “Lucy, what’s going on, why is he saying this” the curled pink ball next to her didn’t move. Anna had that strange feeling that everyone else in the room was not real and that she was viewing the plain neat office from outside as if watching the telly, everyone seemed motionless and quiet, although somewhere in the background she could still hear the gentle tones of the Doctor.
“Mrs Mason, I know this has been a shock but it is important that you remain calm” the tiny wheedling sound had become suddenly louder and trailed into her ear burrowing into her mind by now beginning to regain some of its thinking mechanism.
“DO NOT, tell me to CALM DOWN, you bloody idiot” the words shouted loudly before she was able to stop herself, the strange tingling in her face now a thumping in her chest and a drumming in her head, her normal calm reasoned approach deserted her instantly, to be replaced by a searing anger, tugging to be let free.
“You are a Pratt” she continued “bloody charlatan, my daughter is NOT a heroin addict” she paused for what seemed an age, no one in the room daring to draw breath – “idiot” the word rushed out uncontrollably.
“Mrs Mason………………..”
“Don’t Mrs Mason me………………….
“Please……………” he began again but the looked that she flashed him warned him to be quiet and the words in his mouth stopped abruptly.
“Who does she know, how could she” she couldn’t finish her sentence – “She doesn’t inject the heroin” he began again almost smugly, as if not injecting it, made it OK, “well that’s alright then” Anna said sarcastically, launching at him, hissing......... “I don’t need to know what she does with the bloody stuff, I just don’t believe it” she was screaming again, she could hear her own shrill voice bouncing round the silent room.
Anna stood up suddenly and stretched out her left hand grabbing at her daughters jumper, her pretty painted nails grabbing the pink fluffy fabric at the shoulder. She began pulling and then pushing the girl’s shoulder relentlessly, the fabric pulled and stretched and caused her daughter to sway from side to side, but her head remained firmly planted into her chest. Anna could feel the anger rushing through her veins now “Look at me Lucy” she was screaming “Look at me now” but no matter how hard she pulled and wrenched at the jumper the girl refused to lift her head. Anna turned on her heel and quickly thrust out her right hand grabbing the other shoulder of the jumper. Both hands held her shoulders firmly as she pressed her fingers through the material of the pink jumper. She could feel her nails sinking hurtfully through the fabric reaching into the bony flesh; she squeezed as hard as she could.
“Look at me” she was yelling by now pushing the pulling the girl backwards and forwards. She felt a slight twitch in her hand and her fingers going towards the girls hair ready to yank it hard to make her look up, just as the fingers began to move, she felt a hand touch her arm, firmly halting its progress.
“Enough Anna” Martin said his voice deep and controlled “enough” he repeated. Anna suddenly realising what she was about to do stepped back almost falling backwards into the large chair, her breathing erratic and loud. After a second or two, as she began to relax, she could feel the tight muscles on her upper arms as a dull ache where she had held on so tight and wrenched at her daughter so hard.
“What the fuck is going on” she thought, “it must be a bloody dream”
As the revelation was beginning to sink in, Anna found that a hundred little
“This is whys” came stamping uninvited into her mind, but it seemed impossible for her to stop them “this is why she steals,
This is why she lies,
This is why my house has locks on every door,
This is why everyone knows her,
This is why…,
This is why…,
This is why…………
This is why she falls asleep when you talk to her ….this is why…….. The whirring of the thoughts making her head thumps still louder.
“Why, for Christ sake Lucy, she broke the stampede, “Why?” her voice was almost pleading with her daughter. “Tell me” bending her head closer to her daughter she was screaming it now the ferocity of the sound tearing at the inside of her throat uncomfortably, but the girl remained still except for a few sniffles almost silently escaping, a slight shudder of her shoulders the only sign of life.
“That is not MY daughter” Anna pronounced, viciously pointing her finger at the girl and poking hard into her upper right arm, stabbing again and again.
“that is not my daughter” she repeated more quietly her mouth right next to the girls head, almost to herself as she took her arm away.
The pain in her head caused her to lift her hand and tugged ruthlessly at the front of her hair in a vain attempt to bring both it and herself back under control, she thought perhaps the nightmare would end if she felt pain but it didn’t work. She glanced around the room from one to the other, Martin looking calm and assured his steely blue eyes locked onto the Doctor. The Doctor sitting cross legged balancing his notes on his upper knee, his long gangling leg rocking slightly back and forth, her daughter bent double still protecting herself from attack and confrontation.
“You bunch of bloody idiots” she suddenly hissed, “I told you a hundred times she was up to something, but oh no, not little Lucy, just troubled” her accusation directed at nobody and everybody, “you bitch” she shot directly at her daughter, jabbing her again in the top of her arm “how could you?” not waiting for an answer “you stupid, stupid little bitch”.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to steady herself but as soon as she opened her eyes the sight of them, or the stifling heat, caused vomit to rise in her throat. The stark plain walls of the surgery began warping around her again, the horrid green floor coming upwards towards her; she could feel her head begin to swim uncomfortably. “I need air” she said and stood up quickly causing both the Doctor and her husband to crane their necks as she turned and left the room, Martins blue eyes caught hers just for a brief second, the look of contempt she threw him hardly disguised.
The cool air hit her face and she took in a great gasp of breath and sighed deeply, rolling her eyes to the heavens as if some answer was there in the clouds. “Bitch, bitch, bitch” she muttered under her breath and began to march towards the shop at the opposite site of the car park.
She was rummaging in her large brown handbag for her purse and by the time it was located she was in the shop at the counter “20 super kings and a lighter” she snapped at the man “please, sorry” she found herself saying, realising how rude she had been, “thank you” she said as she turned. She unwrapped the packet before getting out of the door, and marched out and back diagonally across the car park looking for a place to hide from sight.
The first bitter taste of the smoke nestled uncomfortable on her tongue and caused her to cough and splutter, but she drew deeply pulling the poison deep into her lungs the, nasty taste replicating her nasty thoughts, the pulling and releasing of smoke steadying her breathing. She found an old brick wall just around the corner to sit on and looked up to the sky wishing that she was anywhere but where she was. Wishing she was anyone other than who she was. She found herself debating that if she walked and carried on walking would she be OK. A second cigarette was lit before the first was done, the bitter taste in her mouth pleasingly unpleasant and familiar.
Back in the office, the Doctor sat in his wrecked tweed jacket and scruffy corduroy trousers, adjusted his scruffy tie and shuffled uneasily in his chair gently patted Lucy’s arm “don’t worry Lucy, it is a normal reaction, your mother loves you and she will help you and understand”. His voice soft, slow, professional, the patting soothing and gentle... “It will be fine, you’ll see” a deep reassuring tone filling the quiet space Anna’s departure had left, Martin Mason sitting statue still save for a muscle twitching in the side of his jaw.
Lucy’s head remained down rocking gentle back and forth but now she was chanting over and over again, “I’m sorry Dad, I’m so sorry” a whimpering quiet grizzle like a toddler who’d just been smacked, trying to apologise after breaking your most expensive item. Still Martin Mason sat silently saying nothing his mouth still set firm, his intense blue eyes never leaving the doctors face, the Doctor shuffled some more beginning to feel uncomfortable under the gaze, heightened anxiety creeping into his calm exterior, touching his mouth with his finger nervously, waiting for him to speak. Lucy’s heart was pounding, it seemed so loud that she thought the others must be able to hear it, her throat beginning to feel dry, the now too familiar cold film of sweat breaking on her body; it seemed an age before her father finally spoke. The sound of his quiet voice sending tremors through her entire body like an electric shock, she was so scared her throat felt as if it was suddenly closing and she swallowed hard waiting, she wanted to look up to see how his face looked, but fear kept her head firmly buried.
“I better find your mum, stay here” he said his gaze never leaving the doctors, his voice was just as it always was, no anger, not upset, nothing.
“Piss off” she said “I have nothing to say to you” her voice quavering slightly as she spoke, husky as if she’d just woken. Anna had heard him before she saw him, the crunch of his shoes across the pathway, and now he stood in front of her towering over her, his shoes creaking as he stepped to his left, blocking out her view.
“She is our daughter Anna” his deep voice resonated around the empty car park
“Your daughter” Anna responded instantly
“Come on Anna” his voice trying to sooth and comfort, “She could only have been fourteen, how could she have known what she was doing” he continued “we have to help her”
“We” she repeated
“Yes we” he continued.
Anna could feel the anger beginning to build inside her again.
“She is our responsibility……..” he continued
“Our responsibility, our responsibility” she said her voice increasing in pitch and volume with each statement “our responsibility”
“You bastard” she added “you have done NOTHING” she screamed, “NOTHING for her in years, you have barely said a word to her, you have let me drag her home, tell her off, go to the school, beg for second chances, go to court, for years you have done NOTHING and now you tell me she is our responsibility”
Her words punching the air hit him like a tidal wave, making him step back in shock. He steadied himself, pulling at his mind to come up with an answer, say something, anything he was telling himself, but in his normal placid way Martin Mason said nothing. He knew that to speak now would be entirely the wrong thing to do, although he knew his wife well, he had never seen her so angry, and he knew she was right. . He tilted his head slightly to one side and with a resigned shrug of his shoulders looked pathetically at his wife, a pathetic admission of his guilt. “You are bloody priceless” she hissed looking at him, wanting to lash out and slap him where he stood “priceless” she repeated.
Lucy, still sat with her head bowed with the Doctor in the stuffy plain room, she was beginning to get the shakes and her skin was crawling, a light sweat just above her top lip. She didn’t know what would happen now, she didn’t know if her mum and dad would take her home or throw her out – she knew they loved her, well she knew her mum loved her, but she didn’t know if they would still love her. Her small thin body already doubled up seemed to be shrinking into itself; she looked very small and fragile, the comfortable leather chair engulfing her. Her bony shoulders sticking out through the pink jumper, her spine clearly visible beneath her half dozen tops, when she suddenly looked up. Her small face was pale, almost white with dark circles clearly visible under her eyes, the eyes large and dark staring blankly into space.
As the Doctor looked at her, he also realised that he should have known. How had he got it all so wrong? This family had been let down, they had been questioned, micro-inspected almost accused but all along they had done nothing wrong, other than to ask for help. When he thought about how he’d fobbed them off with ADHD, given her more drugs to use on the street, oh God how could he have missed this. Uncomfortably he remembered telling them to try different parenting styles, accept her boyfriend, embrace her lifestyle, how conceited and arrogant must he have sounded. Oh Yes Dr. Jessop knew that he had got this one very wrong indeed, and that this little skeleton of girl, could be very manipulative and clever. In a split second sitting here looking at her he was forced to acknowledge that she had totally fooled him. He had been outwitted by a fourteen year old girl. When he thought back over the past two and half years, thought of the tales she had told, the lines of questioning they had covered, she must have been laughing at him every time she left his office. He found himself beginning to feel angry, he pushed his head backwards running it round the back of his neck to try to release the tension that was building, shrugging both shoulders up and down one after the other like a boxer ready to fight. As he thought about this a tight band of stress was starting to close around his forehead, he could feel one of his headaches coming on, he wondered why now, why tell them now, what had changed. He also knew that with this revelation this would be his only chance to find out. Her care would now be with a drug counsellor and he may never know why she hadn’t trusted him.
He put his hand onto his chin and rubbed it from side to side, the sound of his hands rubbing the rough stubble of his face audible in the room. For two and half years this girl could have told him, in confidence this secret, could have asked for help. He needed an answer or the question would paralyse his ability to function as he had, he needed to know. He asked a direct question no dressing it up or beating around the bush, or being politically correct or thinking about her feelings or responses, just a question, something Doctor Jessop rarely did, but felt for his own professional sanity needed to do, this situation must be avoided in the future no matter what cost of him personally.
“Lucy, why now” he was looking directly at her laying his shortcoming bare for her to mock him further, her head was still bowed but her sharp dark eyes looking up at him. She looked so young and vulnerable he found himself thinking involuntarily, but he pulled himself back from feeling sympathy for her, hadn’t she taken enough of that from him.
“Lucy” he said again firmly, still she didn’t raise her head, just continued to stare unblinking, so he continued anyway “why have you decided that today was the right time to do this”
“dun no” was all she said, her voice quiet, barely a whisper in the quiet room and then she put her face down again and began rocking slowly back and forth.
That’s it a “dun no”, twenty years of practising and it comes down to my mistake and a dun no.
Chapter 2
Goodbye
Click, the sound seemed to echo down the deserted street, the sound of Anna’s shoe on the stone step that lead down from her pretty town house. She had walked these steps a million times before, stood on this exact spot, but never before had she heard that hollow click. She looked down and watched her feet step down the three steps to the pavement the long black skirt brushing the top of her shoes letting her hand slide down the metal banister her wedding ring grating harshly against the metal. She held the railing loosely to steady herself as she made her way towards the waiting car, its door opened in readiness. A smart middle-aged man, in a black suit with greying hair held open the door to the limousine bowed his head slightly to the side as she slid inside. Martin Mason also dressed in a smart black suit and tie walked around the car and got into the back next to her sliding silently into his seat. He reached out and put his hand over hers holding it gently without saying a word. Behind them sat their children, silent, heads bowed.
Anna, lifting her gaze past the driver, looked forward through the windscreen staring blindly into the hearse in front of them. Inside she could see the coffin draped in cream roses their pretty sprigs enveloping snugly the dark oak box. Beyond the hearse a solitary figure dressed in a black mourning suit wearing a top hat and carrying a smart cane, its brass top glinted briefly in the sunshine as the man looked back. He seemed to be looking right at her. He raised his stick in the air with his right hand, and began to walk slowly along the road, the car drifting serenely from its parking space so silently it felt as if it were hovering, or was she hovering, she wasn’t sure - so the procession began.
The sight of the coffin and the flowers made small hot tears begin to fall down Anna’s cheeks, with every inch she travelled from her home, the tears become more fierce, her mind telling her “be brave, be brave, you have to be strong”. Inside someone was squeezing her heart and yanking it so hard she thought it would fly right out of her chest. The pain so great she thought she would never be able to bear it, like a hurricane was spinning around deep inside her trying to rip out her insides and throw them away, she was fighting to contain its ferocity with every foot they travelled. For ten long days, she knew this day was coming, the day she would have to say goodbye, and for ten long days she had thought she could do it, and yet now, she couldn’t see through the tears, or talk through the sobbing and no one spoke, Martin simply held her hand.
The street seemed deserted, not a sound could be heard and as if in a dream the small procession passed along the street silently. They drove through the town, the people on the street stopped and looked, bowing their heads in respect, but she couldn’t hear anything or look into their faces. The huge black cars glinting in the sunlight, pulled into the pretty court yard outside the church, its large tower obscuring the sunlight temporarily, she knew she was expected to get out but her legs felt weak and unsteady she knew that she couldn’t run away from today, this was her last act of courage and she knew that dignity was all she had left.
The door was swung open and as she stepped from the car she saw some thirty people were gathered around in a small group outside the front door of the church, her mum and dad, her family and friends, all dressed in black. As she scanned the group she saw the faces of her six brothers towering over her, making her feel like a little girl again. Anthony the eldest, large, tall with a mass of hair tied behind his back and a long grey beard, Gary tall and thin looked like she imagined Jesus would look, she looked along the line they were all different but in their eyes everything was the same, the shared pain they felt for their sister. Anna could see the pity, their sad faces looked at her as they stood in a semi-circle, her eyes almost black, shone full of tears as she walked numbly into the arms of Anthony. Like a giant he put his huge arms around her as she sobbed silently into his shoulder, she wanted to beg him to take her home, but knew he couldn’t, he didn’t speak a word, just held her close. The brothers in unison closed around her like a black protective cape making her feel for one very brief moment safe, small and hidden. Someone seemed to be clawing her heart out from the inside causing her to shake from head to toe but the giant hands held her still.
The coffin was being gently taken from the hearse, the flowers glowing in the sunlight, perfectly formed blooms and buds, rich green leaves covered every inch of the coffin. One by one the brothers released her taking their place by the coffin, all bar one, Anthony slipped his hand around her waist to support her, only five were needed. The five giants and her son took the weight of the coffin on their shoulders and began the slow walk into the vaulted church. By now Martin was by her side, her hand gently resting in his, she watched her sons back intently as they walked into the church. She wondered how he was able to bear it, she saw his other hand gently caressing the coffin as they walked slowly further into the coldness. The cold air suddenly hit her face; it seemed to be filled with the fragrance of flowers. The church was silent except for the sound of music drifting through the cold air, “if...................I could turn...........................turn back the hands of time..................” the melancholy notes filling the whole church, dancing from every corner vibrated into her mind. She realised that it wasn’t just the thirty people outside who had come to pay their respects; there must have been four hundred inside the church. She was looking directly at them as she walked down the aisle but all she could see was a sea of pale faces on a blanket of blackness. A black puppet theatre, white faces, black bodies, faces bobbing independently seemed to float in and out of her vision. She knew that she knew them all but not a single one could she pick out or look at, she was so focussed on the coffin, on her son. Every seat was full with people crowded standing at the back and the side of the church. Her little procession quietly followed the coffin, until it was gently placed before the Alter, a photograph placed on top, those familiar eyes looking out on the congregation, a faint smile on the lips.
Blah, blah, blah lots of words, but all she could hear were the last words “don’t let them take you mum” “I won’t”, those words she could hear over and over in her mind, those words haunted her, every day and every night. She hadn’t left, she’d stayed strong, and she’d held the hand she knew so well until it burnt black, the heart unable to pump the blood back into the still body, she held it, until it fell ice cold as death finally took it.
The ceremony over, the strains of David Bowie played as they left the church and she almost ran to the car to get her away from all those people. Nearly over, she thought to herself as the funeral cars pulled silently out of the courtyard and back into the sunlight. Along the market town high street, the procession slowly followed the market place, a long trail of four hundred people followed the coffin. Shop keepers became silent and bowed their heads as they passed, like a long train of small black ants, all silent, some crying, all with heads down. The black convoy made its way silently through the town to a small cemetery just a few moments away. Like the church it was quiet, beautiful, and in April at its finest. Pink cherry blossom hung heavy on the trees, pulling the branches low to the ground, lining the route to the open grave. A deep cold hole in the ground it arms yawning wide in readiness for its occupant, waited emptily for it occupant. The cherry trees either side of the pavement entwining in the middle to form a corridor of pink blossom, the sun shining and the sky was a rich dark blue with soft clouds drifting aimlessly on the gentle spring breeze. More blah, blah, blah as the vicar who looked like a huge black crow, blessed the grave for the final time, two long stemmed cream roses, thrown onto the coffin and it was done. As they all stood under the blossom a gentle breeze began to blow sways of pink petals into the grave and onto the mourners. It could have seemed the most beautiful thing in the world, today it seemed fitting, snow in April thought Anna to herself. As the pink blossom continued to blow across the cemetery, it filled the edges of the pathways and seemed to be beckoning them back to the waiting cars and away from the grave.
Surrounded by her family, she turned and without a word walked from the graveside, dry eyed and numb, the other mourners’ left to say their goodbyes to her baby who they’d stuck in the cold damp ground. That click had been the last sound that bound them all together, that click was the very last time her family of six would leave their home together because from now on, everything had changed.
Chapter 3
Eddie
It was a lovely autumn morning the early mist that lay so beautiful over the course had now lifted revealing dew spattered greens of deep green stretching into long fairways of neatly groomed grass. The large trees today barely rustling in the slight breeze just cool enough to remind you it was getting late in the season. Anna looked out of her office and took a sip of her coffee, the view never failed to make her feel better about the day, today though she wanted to be out there in the fresh air and not cooped up in Christopher’s smoked filled office. She felt uneasy today but couldn’t put her finger on it, perhaps it was pre-performance nerves, always meeting new people was tricky particularly as she was their contact for the duration of their visit to the Club.
The pungent smell of his distinctive cigar smoke was finding its way under the adjoining door so she knew he was in a preparing himself for his next group of students. Anna knew that today would be no different then any other group, an overpowering mix of vain aging ladies, saggy leathery skin, stupid clothes and ridiculous pom-poms on their socks, all wishing they were twenty years younger. Rich, middle-age husbands bonding over a whisky, exulting their business acumen, immaculate clothes and manicured hands showing that any manual work they may have done was done a very long time ago. She had found over the years the gentlemen were generally that, polite and kind, but the woman exerted their status at every opportunity with the staff throughout the country club. Anna found this irritating and condescending, but she always carried out her duties professionally and no one would have known the irritation these vain birds that lived in paradise caused her.
“Would be Tiger Woods’s” she thought unkindly to herself, should be in the wood more like, the thought made her chuckle inside, and a small smile brushed her lips revealing a hint at her own former beauty. At forty-two years old the bloom had gone from the face of Anna Mason and although just like her ladies she longed for it to come back she felt her restrained aging beauty a far more desirable image than theirs. She always endeavoured to have an expensive hair-cut way above her means but she felt it made all the difference to how they perceived her, more their equal than their inferior. She lent down and picked up her tailored jacket and briefly checked her appearance before carefully knocking on the door that lead into Christopher’s office.
“Come in” she heard in deep voice beyond the door “Morning Chris” she offered brightly “Morning Anna” he replied turning away from the full length mirrors that created the entire back wall of the room to look at her. Anna knew that he would have been examining every inch of his appearance before the new golfers arrived. He had to look pristine; he had to always feel superior to them all to command the required level of unquestioning respect from them. “All ready” she continued “Um” was his response, he was more interested in casually swinging his latest Putter.
Within five minutes a pretty young girl from the Hotel Reception was knocking on the door, “your group have arrived Anna” she smiled at her older colleague and Anna knew this was her cue to action and she followed to the main foyer. After lots of handshakes and introductions, Anna led the Golfers to Christopher’s Training room. As she opened the door she exactly how it would be, Christopher pretending to pour himself a small espresso saying “ah come in, come in” as if somehow he had been caught unawares and was welcoming friends into his home. Anna wondered sometimes how long he had been standing in that position before they arrived and she wished she could leave him waiting there for twenty minutes to see if he gave up the pose eventually.
Halfway through the introductions, the Club Secretary a rotund distinguished man called Robin knocked firmly on the door. The look on Christopher’s face summed up the gravity of this intrusion, nothing but nothing interrupted Christopher Somerville’s opening address. Anna was about to return to her own office, but Robin didn’t wait and instead came into the room, “Excuse me” he addressed to room, “Anna, there is a call for you in the office” he continued, Christopher sent him a contemptuous look, a “how dare you interrupt us” look that normally would have been avoided at all costs. It was considered very poor form to interrupt Christopher making his opening statements, but for whatever reason Robin never flinched nor took his eyes of Anna. “Excuse me” Anna said glancing round the party, leaving the clients and Christopher standing in the room ready to begin.
“Who is it Robin” she asked “Carters” he replied, “Carters” she repeated, “is it Edward?”
“No” said Robin bluntly.
“Hello, Anna Mason here, how can I help” Anna began, in her formal office voice “Hi, is that Edwards Mum” a small voice spoke at the end of the line “Yes” Anna almost hesitated when she replied, she could feel a knot beginning in her stomach.
“Sorry to ring you at work, but it is Edward” the small voice said. “Edward has collapsed at work Mrs Mason” she paused briefly, “we haven’t called the Doctor he didn’t want us too, says he’s OK but he is as white as a ghost and we think he had some sort of seizure” the voice was saying, by this time Anna was already holding her bag, gesturing to Robin that she was leaving and half-way out of the door “I will be there is fifteen minutes” she replied, “call an ambulance if you have too” she passed the phone to Robin and said “its Edward, he has collapsed at work - ring Martin, got to go” her voice was shaking and her stomach turning over and over as she ran to the car park and got into her Alfa and drove as fast as she could to Marcham.
By the time Anna arrived having negotiated the roads like a rally driver, Edward was sitting up, shaking a little and very very pale. “Oh baby” “what’s happened” Anna said, it was an open to question to both her son and the many employees who seemed to be looking after him. “I just fainted mum” Edward’s green eyes looked up at her “I think I fainted anyway” he continued to say, he looked confused and dazed. The small voice that had telephoned her piped up from the side of her “My name is Jennifer Blain “ I went into the stock room and Edward was lying on the floor and shaking violently, and seemed to be dribbling at the mouth” “I think” she spoke quickly, “that he has had a fit”. “We wanted to call the Doctor or ambulance but by the time I had seen Mr Bridges, Edward seemed more alert and wouldn’t let us” she continued barely pausing for breath, small pink blush marks on her cheeks.
“It’s Ok, Jenny, I’ll take him straight home, don’t worry” she tried to reassure the obviously upset woman who seemed to be trying to blend into the background and out of the limelight.
“OK, I think we need to get you home, young man” Anna said, smiling gently down on her son, “Would you help me please to get him to the car” she asked, “I will get the Doctor to come out and see him as soon as we get home”. There was a general nod of agreement around the room, and Edward Mason was helped into the Red Alfa parked practically in the front door of Carters. The staff stood at the front door watching them leave, ready she was sure at any second to begin talking about the day’s drama.
It was less then a five minute drive home, and by the time Anna arrived with Edward, Martin Mason, who had also been called was already waiting from them. Between them they helped Edward from the car, not an easy task as he like most of the males in his family was well over six feet tall, lean and strong, and just because he was now eighteen he was still their little boy. They walked, supporting him on both sides along the large corridor that had several doorways leading off, straight ahead and around a corner that lead downwards to a set of stairs. The stairs opened out at the bottom to a large, tiled floored Kitchen and further through into a comfortable living room in the basement. This was the room that the family used most, probably because it was next to the kitchen, but also because it was warm and cosy in this large house, being a semi basement kept it a comfortable and consistent temperature and they had settled this room as their main living area. The room itself had the most lovely iron fireplace, deep recessed windows who’s view was split by the pavement, allowing them to see the outside (well up the knee, at least) but still to retain complete privacy, something lacking in these eightieth century town houses, that were often, like theirs no more that six feet from the public highway, the room was cool and quiet. Two large brown leather sofas’ sat opposite each other and at the far end a small informal dining table and chairs completed the room. The room had a matching pantile floor like the kitchen and its warm colours were echoed in the walls.
Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-26 show above.)