by Karen Binnie
Chapter 1
My excitement couldn’t hide the sadness within, I’m on edge, my emotions all mixed up. It’s my 17th birthday tomorrow, the day after Sam Mitchell’s party, a birthday full of memories, some good, mostly bad I wish it would just go away, zip forward a week so I can try and get on with my life, at least this party might let me forget for just a few hours.
It had taken a lot of persuading but finally dad had caved in and agreed to let me go, but there were conditions, there were always bloody conditions. My life had been controlled by conditions ever since the death of my mother and brother in that car accident, a shiver flowed through my body as the goose bumps spread across my arms, the flash of an ice cold memory. That was when my friends knew me by my birth name, Julianne. Since moving to New Zealand I’d stuck with Jol, the pet name given to me by my beloved grandmother who I hadn’t seen in over a year, god how I missed her. I missed home too, I was born in Salisbury England, had never moved house ever until 8 months ago, I missed my old friends, well some of them!
The pain behind my eyes intensified as I fought back the tears, the first two months here had been the hardest, dad was awkward, didn’t know what to say to comfort me and when he tried it came out all wrong. Why are guys like that? Hopeless when it comes to emotions, the best thing he did was let me chat to my old friends on facebook whenever I liked but some of their comments were hurtful. Yasmin stuck by me though, the only one in the end after the incident at Ben’s party, the others joked that I was a freak but what did they know, maybe I was, I never really understood what had happened that night. Now I was scared to go to parties, scared of what might happen and I’m not just talking about the usual predicaments teenagers find themselves in, this fear ran a lot deeper than that.
This was going to be a great party, Kate said it was always the place to be, no-one in their right mind would miss it. But that’s the problem see, I don’t even know if I’m in my right mind, my life has been so messed up over the past year, I began to question my own sanity whilst putting on an act of behaving normal. Maybe it was time to have some fun, relax a bit, shrug off the tension of my impending birthday.
I log off the internet, closing the laptop on my previous life and look in despair at the clothes strewn all over the bed, well hell! I didn’t know what to wear, fashion sure was different over here.
The party was at Sam Mitchell’s place up on the hill, I’d never been there before, all I knew about the Mitchell family was that they were rich. Sam's parents were going to be out of town ‘dad doesn’t know about that of course, he’d have forty fits and not let me go’ they were away on some business/pleasure trip in LA.
Being the new girl had been hard, ok I feel I have settled in at last but I don’t want to look like some dork from England. The doorbell rang at last, Kate was late, she was always late, she’d become my best friend almost immediately, helping me cope on my first day at College. I was grateful of course, someone to hold my hand, it had felt like my first day at primary school all over again, not knowing anyone. I think I was a novelty to be honest, the English girl, new to the country who had not long lost her mum, none of them would ever know I felt the loss of my brother more, except Kate of course, the only one who I confided in. If I had been just a fascination to her, it hadn’t stopped and we have been inseparable ever since.
The doorbell rang for longer this time, I had been lost in my thoughts again! I ran to answer it before dad came in from the garden and got there first or before Kate began banging on the door which was more likely to happen.
Mr Serason stood in the garden pleased with his efforts, digging another section to the vegetable patch. He listened to the girl’s incessant chatter and frequent giggles coming from inside the house, he couldn’t hear what they were saying maybe just as well, he didn’t want to know what went on in the mind of a teenage girl. At least Julianne seemed settled now and appeared a lot happier these days. He worried about the party and if it was the right thing to let her go but she was going to be 17 tomorrow and he realised that he had to give her a little more freedom, she was not his little girl anymore.
He settled into the rocking chair out on the deck, lighting his cigarette, a habit he had once kicked but the old cravings had reared their ugly head following the accident. He thought about his life now, the house was adequate for their needs, a single storey weather board house which had been extended to offer a fourth bedroom at the back of the lounge with its own on-suite, perfect for him and far enough away so that they both had their own space. Julianne had the largest bedroom of three at the front of the house, plenty of room for friends to stay once the spare rooms had been cleared of the remaining packing boxes, with the main bathroom to call her own.
Life was a struggle but his book shop was ticking over, enough to keep him from being idle, not that money was an issue, his wife had made sure of that in her will but it had been hard coping with a teenage daughter after the death of Vyvien and his son Christopher.
It had been Chris’s fault the night of the crash, he was 18 and a mummy’s boy, Vyv could not see what the drugs had done to him and convinced he had become clean she had given him chance after chance, but the last chance had been the biggest mistake of all, one that had cost them their lives. The coroner’s report confirmed his worst fears, that Chris was a pot smoking waste of space.
He had despised his own son from birth, his conception a drunken fumble in the dark which resulted in the mistake that changed his life. His morale upbringing meant no question of him not marrying Vyvien and married life had begun to improve once he had finally learned to love his son and new wife, now he despised him all over again for ruining their precious lives.
Vyvien had been a top lawyer in Salisbury, England where they had led a charmed life, parties galore and mixing with high society from the counties, not really his scene but he had kept up the pretence, quietly and politely obliging his wife as she revelled in the limelight. Born a Kiwi, her heart belonged in the land of the long white cloud or so he thought but reality dictated that her talents commanded the best salary overseas, a compromise his lovely wife had been only too eager to accept.
Only now he was realising that he had been hard on Julianne since their loss, scared of losing her too he had dragged her halfway across the world to live in her mother’s country. They had no surviving relatives here or back in England but somehow he had thought he would feel closer to Vyvien as if her spirit would somehow guide him in bringing up their daughter. They had not been close for many years, not since the birth of their second child in fact but this was his new start for him and his daughter, a new start, a new life, a quieter life.
He thought about his daughter and how she had coped better from the day all their belongings had finally arrived from England, a month later than promised. It had been hectic and he remembered Julianne emerging from the garden later that day, holding a mangy flea bitten, filthy excuse for a cat. He smiled to himself as he recalled how her face had lit up as she begged him, ‘Daddy, please can we keep it?’ How could he refuse her pleading face, she had not called him daddy in a very long time and the tiny bundle in her hands, it did have the cutest wee face. Julianne had insisted the cat be called Alice an odd name for a cat, even after a good clean up and a visit to the vet revealed that their new tabby with the incredibly bright green eyes was actually a boy.
Kate lay on her stomach on top of my bed, her chin resting in her hands and kicking her legs in the air behind to the music, “I told you not to worry, I know Sam’s like the most popular girl in school but being like her third cousin twice removed or something like that, she had to invite me, I’m whanau you know!”
Her comment made me smile inside, I had struggled with the Maori words, I soon discovered the schools here teach some of the native traditions and the language is taught at a young age, not all of it mind as many of the whites or ‘pakeha’ as the Maori call them could never remember it all. Sometimes even th
e basics are a distant memory but not to everyone, it can be a bit strange at times the relationship between the settlers and the Maori.
“…….any how I insisted on bringing a friend, my excuse for not bothering any of hers, well that’s what she thinks anyhow, you know I’ve got my eye on Gregor Jones?”
There I go again distracted by my thoughts, a common distraction which had annoyed my teachers since the age of five, Kate’s question brought me back to the present. “But why me? you have other friends…”
“Jol you can be so annoying sometimes, you know you’re like my best friend now, especially since you let me have loads of your stuff you don’t want, how many boxes you got left to open now?”
I looked around my room at the boxes, some of them half empty, unpacking from the move had been such a chore, helping dad with the general household stuff had been bad enough but the more personal stuff, well each box had just brought back more painful memories. Six months had passed and I still had boxes to unpack.
It felt good to offload onto Kate, she didn’t have much and passing it on eased the pain, I smiled to myself, she was the one true friend I had made since coming here, Kate was always up front and honest about everything. Kate is a Maori, the way some of the white New Zealanders talk about Maori you would think they were uneducated and backward but strangely all the different nationalities that had settled here seemed to co-exist happily enough. Kate is just an ordinary girl like me ‘well maybe not like me’ she is just way more confident and has darker skin, something which never bothered me, it’s what’s inside that counts. I lack the confidence which Kate brings to our friendship, in fact she is brave to the point of stupidity sometimes but that’s what’s appealing, I suppose my sensibility ‘if you can call it that!’ countered it all out.
“Well! you in one of your daydreams again, what you grinning at?” asked Kate.
“I’ve got just the thing to help you with Gregor” I grabbed the wooden box on my bedside table and handed Kate a bottle top sized shiny black pebble from inside.
“What’s this?” Kate asked, staring at the stone, confused.
“It was my brothers so you better look after it, Gran gave it to him years ago, said he was never to let it out of his sight, that it was his lucky stone.”
Kate looked at it in her hand, it was big enough to fit in her pocket but she looked unsure like there was something not right about it.
I watched her face as she rolled the stone between her fingers, I knew what she was thinking, “don’t worry, he didn’t have it on him at the time of the accident, he had already given it to me by then, must have decided carrying a lucky stone around at his age was not cool or something.”
“Oh!”
“Look don’t worry, I’ve given up beating myself over taking his luck that night, from what dad says Chris was an accident waiting to happen anyway, I don’t think the stone would have made a lot of difference.”
“But don’t you want it? surely there must be someone you fancy at College by now eh! I refuse to believe you’re not interested in anyone! you’re not a lesbian are you?” she added as an afterthought sitting up on the bed, ready to move quickly in case I pounce on her.
“Kate! you are so absurd, you know I’m looking for the right one since I told you what happened at that party last year and believe me I’m quite sure the right one will be a boy.”
Kate eyes me suspiciously, “yeah right! not 100% sure though, you wait much longer and it could be a man you’re looking for girl, unless you turn into one of them cougar types!” we both fell back on the bed laughing.
“No you need it more than me tonight, Gran told me to keep it in her box as a memory of Chris, you can borrow it that’s all, I want it back, I may need it myself one day.”
Kate swung her legs off the edge of the bed and sat upright, “Sweet, well let me know if you change your mind, if I know Sam well enough she’ll have invited guys from the other College, you might just see someone you like!”
I watched her as I lay propped up on my left elbow, she smiled and reluctantly put the stone in her pocket. I broke the awkward moment of silence that followed and rose from the bed, “Here look what I found, plucked up the courage to tackle another box yesterday after my final English exam, thank god that’s all over, hey how did you do in yours?”
Kate groaned, “don’t ask, I told you I was no good, you promise to still help me next year? wait a minute, what did you find in the box?”
“My brother’s X-Box, you want it?”
“Choice! have to smuggle it passed mum's boyfriend though, you know what he’s like, probably think I’ve stolen it or something and sell it off for the dollars. We best get a move on, you know we should have dyed your hair, it looks funny in the sunlight.”
“Thanks!”
I knew dying my hair was a bad mistake, had tried it once before back in the UK, you see my shoulder length mousy brown/grey looking hair just didn’t like it, the greyish bits almost shimmer translucent in the sunlight and just won’t hold a colour, at least the mousy brown kind of blended in with the grey, in a weird way.
I hold my hair up against the light from the window to show Kate, “I told you before it doesn’t work on these bits” I shrug my shoulders adding, “doesn’t matter I’ve kind of got used to my hair now, it’s not that bad! I‘ll just stay away from the windows.”
“Stay there a minute.”
Kate stared at the piece of hair fanning across my fingers against the light of the window.
“That’s so weird, you know if you cut your hair real short and spiky, you’d look like you had a halo!” Kate began to laugh, “my mate, Jol the angel, yeah right! not tonight girlfriend we‘re gonna have some fun.”
“Shush! dad will hear you” I scowl, “come on lets figure out what we’re wearing.”
“Please don't tell me you are going out like that!”
“Oh come on dad, this is tame, I’ve seen worse at the mall.”
“I’m not talking about you! Kate you sure your mother doesn’t mind you wearing a skirt that short?” John Serason wrinkled his nose at Kate in disapproval.
“Dad leave her alone, you are so old fashioned, that’s actually my skirt and mum bought it for me!” that cut below the belt but dad had no right.
Kate smiled at me and raised her eyebrows in the unspoken way which said “parents!” Kate looked great in the denim skirt I had not worn since…. well she looked great anyway, her top almost identical to mine but in red, Kate had this natural beauty, at five foot tall she was not too fat and not too thin, her unblemished skin and face were just perfect, she looked great in anything. I had opted for the safety of jeans and a strappy flowing top in jade with sequins detailed around the chest.
John took the cutting remark well, his daughter did look beautiful, just like her mother and he wanted to cry. He couldn't wait to see her face tomorrow when he gave her his present, a voucher for the opticians for some contact lenses, far better than the glasses she wore now, old and outdated they didn't do her justice, his little girl was becoming a woman and looking like some old maid from a British soap just didn't seem fair.
Both girls stood before him in the hallway dancing from foot to foot, waiting expectantly for his next remark.
“You girls need to visit the ladies before we leave?” he said with a smirk.
My dad was like a fatter version of Indiana Jones in teaching mode but had a wicked sense of humour when he remembered where to find it, he also came across as over protective like most dads when it came to their little girls.
“DAAAD, can we go now?”
“Ok, Ok, just promise me that you'll keep your mobile switched on and don't.....”
“Dad please, we're going to be late, we've had this talk a million times already and it’s called a cell phone over here.”
He mumbled something about bloody yanks as he stubbed out his cigarette against the fence and fumbled for the car keys i
n his pocket.
Sam Mitchell’s home was palatial, her parents were some big shots in import/export, had loads of money and it showed, hard to believe that Kate could be in any way related.
John Serason drove up the left side of the enormous sweeping driveway and stopped short of the pillared entrance, the gargoyles on their plinths grinning in the sinister way that gargoyles do, who would want that at their door? he wondered.
I smiled at Kate and whispered in her ear, “told you should have worn jeans!”
“Now remember girls, synchronise watches, I will be here 11.30, anymore than 5 minutes late and I'm coming in to find you.”
“Dad! midnight, you promised!!!!”
“I didn’t promise, you just assumed.”
“But Daaaaaad!” I shot him the best puppy dog look I could manage, he could just be melting.
“Ok, alright then but i’ll be here dead on midnight and you’re out here when I drive up or there’ll be trouble.”
I reached over and kissed him on the cheek, “thanks, oh and can you look for Alice when you get back, he's normally in by now for his dinner but I haven't seen him all day.”
“Yes, alright, but don't worry he's probably having a night on the tiles for once.”
“Thanks dad.”
I slammed the door behind me and froze, he hated it when I did that, I turned and mouthed ‘sorry’ through the window, then swivelled quickly on my heel skipping after Kate who was already at the entrance waiting impatiently.
“Your dad is soooo...”
“What controlling? yeah I know but at least he finally gave in and let me out for 4 hours, come on let’s get inside and see who's there.”
I didn't accessorise, didn't go in for all that bling but always wore my mother’s gold signet ring and for the first time an old leather wrist band I had found in Gran’s wooden box. It didn't look like the kind of thing a grandma would wear but it looked pretty cool. It was a thick white leather band with gold studs around the edge and blue stones around the centre, the band laced up on the underside through eyelets by a thick rope of leather and it was surprisingly still in good condition, the stones looked like sapphires but I didn’t know for sure.
When our belongings had finally arrived from England I found the old box amongst mum’s stuff that dad just couldn't bring himself to get rid of. I took it into the garden out of dad’s way and found a note inside to Gran from someone called 'Tad' well that’s what it looked like! a lot of the writing had become smudged with age. There was also the leather band with no markings to say where it had been made and of course Chris’s lucky stone. That was when the cutest wee face appeared from inside the bushes with a faint meow, the day I found Alice.
Jez had another image blur into focus, the dreaming or visions had been driving him crazy but keeping him alive, memories merging together to form his past, building up a life he had forgotten and keeping away from the archway to eternal darkness. He had seen the archway at first, unaware of its significance but with each image, it moved further away.
The image revealed itself and yes he did remember this, that bloody girl, what’s-her-name, who had been stalking him at a party, he tried to shake the image from his mind but she was not for shaking, this was harder than avoiding her when he had been there for real. Oh for god’s sake, he thought, I don’t even like her, I'm just not interested. Sam that was her name, the girl whose party it was, he had to get away from her yet again and he tried to remember the last time he had to avoid her.
He opened the large oak door before him and found himself surrounded by the most amazing games room. There was a pool table and snooker table, jukebox and an old space invaders game and a basketball hoop high on the wall in the corner. There was a darts board and a huge cinema screen for watching the rugby. Wow! this was amazing, he had never before been impressed by the trappings of wealth but one day he thought, to have all this would be sweet as.
He’d had enough of this party, he only ever came for something to do and get away from the farm, but he was bored, this was not the kind of person he was. Jez didn't know really what kind of person he was, he liked to help people and walk away, he didn't like to get involved, if truth be known he was still soul searching for the kind of man he wanted to be, he had dabbled on the wrong side of the law and been lucky enough to not get caught when he realised it was not the life for him.
For now he was a wanderer going with the flow of life but not really getting anywhere. Jez had woken from his slumber, but of course could not open his eyes.