by Kay Leitch
CHAPTER 36 - 1996
She lay on the thin makeshift bed and pulled her legs up to her chest to try and alleviate the pains that were coming over and over again. The blankets underneath her were wet through with gunk and blood, she had lost track of how long she had been heaving and sweating as this thing forced its way out of her body.
There was nothing wonderful about giving birth, she had read all the magazines she could find to try and prepare herself for this, but none of them mentioned the smell and the muck. None of them had prepared her for the sheer terror she was now feeling as she grunted and groaned in the dark of the old abandoned porta cabin that she had broken into a few days earlier just for this event.
Wave after wave of excruciating pain leaving her breathless and weak…it was all too much, this would kill her for sure. She would never see Mum again, or Faye, never go home and live her normal life again all because of him, that animal. Now as each pain came her hatred for him grew until she was screaming out against him…screaming her fury and frustration…sobbing and screaming for all the times he had used her, made her feel worthless, a piece of shit on his shoe. She had wanted his love…a father's love…the screams got louder, the language cruder.
'Fucking bastard…fucking bastard…fucking pervert…fucking perverted bastard!'
One more desperate pain…pushing, pushing.
'FUCKING BASTARD…AAAARRRRGGGHH.'
And there it is; red and slimy, gulping and spurting until it let out a congested wail which made it turn even redder.
She looked at it for a while; it was an ugly little thing, not at all like the pink and white little dolls in the magazines…another pain. Oh god surely there's not another one in there, another push and it looks like half her insides slide out along with another rush of blood. She knew what this was; it was attached to the baby. She was at a loss to know what to do with it though so she decided to put it in the bag along with the baby.
Serious little eyes looking up at her, she felt a tugging coming from somewhere around her heart, time to clean up and get back, she needs to be there to take the kids to school.
'And then I can go home,' she said out loud.
Then the tears start, heavy and hot… hysterical…uncontrollable.
Goodbye little one.
At last I can go home…I'm coming home Mum.
CHAPTER 37 - HELEN
Helen watched Wills as he lay sleeping beside her. How could that peaceful beloved face belong to the same man that was cheating and deceiving her?
They had met when they were still kids really, she had been sixteen to his eighteen, and they had been friends first. Wills had been a brother of one of her college friends and he had tagged along with them whenever they went out anywhere and Helen began to enjoy his company more and more. He had the same dry sense of humour and he would join in with any discussion that the girls were having, even topics that most men would shy away from, it wasn't long before Helen was thinking of Wills in a romantic way, and it seemed like a dream come true when she realised that he was looking at her in the same way. They dated for a couple of years before Wills proposed, 'the happiest day of my life,' thought Helen…'what's gone wrong…why am I not enough for you anymore?'
They had had some tough times; she would be the first to admit that. A few years after trying to conceive they had found out that Will had a low sperm count and having a child was going to be difficult, so they had decided to try I.V.F, which had not only cost them a fortune but had taken its toll on them emotionally as well. Helen had been happy to do the daily injections and had put up with all the various side effects that the hormones produced because she was convinced that the end result would be a beautiful baby boy or girl that would complete their family. In fact the whole procedure only resulted in more heartbreak every time it failed. They had tried three times before they had to admit defeat and she had to acknowledge that a gulf had opened up between them which they had found hard to bridge…but that was years ago and Helen had been sure that they were back on track again…obviously not, she felt the tears welling up yet again, 'not again you stupid woman, get a grip.' She looked at the clock beside the bed, 5.56 she may as well get up, she wasn't sleeping anyway. Very carefully, so as not to wake Wills, she edged out of the bed and made her way downstairs. After switching on the kettle Helen wandered into the conservatory where the canvas for the hall was being kept. Reverend Sinclair was picking it up at about 10 this morning, and the 'official unveiling' was taking place this afternoon.
Helen studied her work, it was definitely one of her best she thought with a satisfied smile, the colours of the trees in all their autumn glory, and the sun shining through the branches had all been captured beautifully, it helped that it was such a special part of the Glory Woods, one of her favourite places…of course that had all been tainted recently as it was very close to the spot where that girl had been found, she hadn't walked there for a while now, not since the day that she had been out taking pictures for this very canvas, it hadn't felt right, at least not until they found her killer.'
'What are you doing up so early?' Helen nearly jumped out of her skin as Will came up behind her, 'I heard someone creeping around down here I thought we had burglars.'
'Oh I couldn't sleep, worrying about today I suppose…do you want some tea? Kettle’s just boiled.' Will shook his head.
'No thanks, I think I'll just jump into the shower and head off early, got to be in Eastbourne by 10. Listen Hels, I'm really sorry I can't be there today, I tried to persuade David to put off this meeting, but he was adamant I'm afraid…I will be thinking of you though…it is a wonderful painting, you are very talented you know, I've always said so…well done darling.' He bent down and kissed Helen's cheek, before he went out of the room a couple of minutes later Helen heard the sounds of the shower. She felt drained of all emotion…she knew she had lost him.
Reverend Sinclair turned up on time and very carefully transferred the huge canvas to his van. Helen had about two hours to kill before she needed to get glammed up for the unveiling; she decided to go through her photos and pick one for her next project. She had always preferred this way of working rather than sitting outside with an enormous easel and a huge bag of paints to lug around. She waited until the weather and the light conditions were just right and then she would go and snap as many shots as she could to make sure that she had at least one good view that she could then transfer onto canvas. Her paintings were by no means a carbon copy of the photo, she tried to simplify the image, concentrating on the colours and the light, ending up with an almost childlike rendition. Helen had no illusions about her work…she was no Picasso, but more and more people seemed to be liking her simple style, and she had noticed an increase in the number of commissions that she was being asked to do, hopefully this afternoon would help that along.
She started flicking through the photos that were on her desk, they were mostly the ones that she had taken for the canvas she had just done, the images were beautiful and she couldn't help but go through them again…suddenly something in one of the photos caught her eye, something she hadn't noticed before…just to the left of shot there seemed to be what looked like a human form in between the trees, a dark shadowy figure…it looked like a man but it was too indistinct to see clearly. She took down her magnifying glass to see if that helped but the image was no more than a dark shape behind the branches, she went through a few of the other pictures to see if he appeared anywhere else, but it was just in that one, which ironically was the one that Helen had used for the canvas. She shivered he must have been there while she had been taking the pictures, how long had he been watching her, she had been there for at least an hour… she felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise…that would have been about six or seven weeks ago…just about the time that someone had brutally murdered a young girl…right there in that spot. 'Oh for god's sake Helen, stop freaking yourself out, it was probably just some innocent walker who came across you and didn't want t
o disturb you, pull yourself together,' she admonished herself, but she decided to mention it to Carla when she saw her later, couldn't do any harm, so she set the photo to one side and put the rest of the photos away in the drawer, getting out another bundle, this time of the beach at West Wittering…her next canvas.
By the time that Maggie came to collect her for the unveiling, Helen had once again worked herself up into a state of panic. Maggie sat her down with a cup of tea, Helen having resolutely refused anything stronger, and tried to talk her down. Half an hour later they were on their way and Helen was supremely calm thanks to the half a sedative that Maggie had slipped into her tea.
The community hall was full to the rafters with tweed skirts and cardigans, the W.I. were determined that the village should know who was responsible for raising the money to brighten the rather drab 1970's building, and Hester Binworthy, (a leading light in the W.I. locally) had been drafted in to make a speech. She came bounding up to Helen as soon as she spotted her.
'My dear the canvas is simply marvellous! And Reverend Sinclair, tells me that you had a hand in the flowers decorating the hall as well, how super…I don't suppose we could persuade you to do a couple of talks at our local meetings, you know about your painting um…what gives you inspiration etc…I know our members would be so interested,' she looked at Helen expectantly.
'Er…yes I'm sure…' said Helen distractedly, she'd been rather put off by the fox fur that was wrapped round Ms Binworthy's neck, it seemed to be looking straight at her…Helen gave herself a mental shake. 'That would be lovely Ms Binworthy, the W.I. do such good work in our little community.'
Ms Binworthy gave her a wide smile and a promise to call her and then went off to try and drum up some more of the locals; Helen had to smother a laugh when she saw that Carla and Maggie had been caught.
She scanned the room in search of Mike, he didn't seem to have arrived yet, but she saw Tracy frantically waving and blowing kisses at her, she smiled and blew one back. There were lots of familiar faces in the crowd looking at her when she took her place on the little stage at the end of the hall, she could see all the witches of course, but she was touched and surprised to see that James had come, and so too had Dom and Jed. Even more surprising was that she had spotted Giles and Vanessa sitting near the back of the hall, although she knew that Vanessa was a W.I. member so maybe it wasn't so unusual.
Reverend Sinclair got the proceedings underway, talking about benefits of having a community hall, for socialising getting their community together etc, especially now at this troubled time, when something so evil had invaded the tranquillity of our little community. And then about the good that the W.I. did in their village, and how hard they had worked to raise the money to pay for the beautiful canvas which would not only brighten up their hall, but remind them all of the beauty that surrounded them. And finally he introduced Ms Binworthy who was going to do the unveiling.
Ms Binworthy was almost beside herself with pride as she started her speech about the benefits of a W.I. in a village and then she started spouting on about the history of the organisation. Helen lost interest after a while, and so too did a lot of the audience who began shuffling their feet, most of them were only here for the free tea and cakes anyway. A distraction was made when the door at the back of the hall suddenly opened and Mike with an apologetic look at the speaker slipped into a seat in the back row, he saw Helen smiling at him and gave her a shy little wave.
'And now it's my great pleasure to introduce you to the very talented artist who is responsible for this wonderful canvas… Helen Drover…er… HELEN DROVER…'
Helen jumped up out of her seat, she had been miles away, she could hear stifled giggles from the crowd most notably coming from Tracy who had her hands over her mouth.
'Thank you Ms Binworthy for that lovely introduction…I feel very honoured to have been asked by the parish council and the W.I. to produce this canvas. The brief that I was given was to be an area of outstanding natural beauty, so I went out with my camera a few weeks ago and started taking pictures of all the most beautiful sights, and views that I could think of, the stream near Knowle bridge, the view from the hills overlooking the village, the windmill near Blindley heath, but always in the back of my mind I knew the place that I would eventually paint…because it has always been a favourite place of mine and I know it's a favourite for a lot of you too. The Glory Woods are a joy season by season, watching the trees come into bud in the spring, bluebells carpeting the ground, white blossom on the hawthorns, the amazing array of green shades as the leaves fill out the bare trees, making safe hiding places for nesting birds and squirrels, the glory of summer when the sun shines through the gaps in the bright green beech trees, showering the earth with mottled light, the blackbirds singing their summer song. And then Autumn, my favourite season, the crowning glory, when the trees put on their jewelled robes of red and yellow, and shiny conkers fall onto a golden carpet beneath the trees…so there was no other choice for me, it had to be the Glory Woods in autumn, I hope you love it as much as I do…um thank you.'
There was an embarrassing amount of clapping and whistling when Helen sat down, mainly coming from the witches, Ms Binworthy sent a stern look around the hall and eventually the noise subsided.
'Thank you Helen for that er…poetic speech…now all that's left for me to do is to ask the Reverend Sinclair if he will take the other end of the curtain so that we can all see this beautiful work…Reverend.'
The Reverend and Ms Binworthy took up the ropes on either side of the curtain which had been hiding the canvas and pulled, the curtain dropped away and the painting was revealed, there were plenty of ironic ooos and arrrhs, and then some clapping and shouts of 'well done Helen' and 'isn't it lovely, that's where I walk my dog you know,' but once the clapping had died down there was an audible gasp of horror and a commotion at the back of the hall as Vanessa, who had been staring at the canvas with a look of horror on her face, fell to the floor in a dead faint!
CHAPTER 38 - TRACY
As it was Saturday, Tracy ignored Buster's pestering and tried to stay under the covers for as long as she could. She had hardly slept last night thinking about the evening and especially about Simon and his proposed 'date', she had eventually had to admit to herself that she fancied him like mad, and after weighing up all that had happened between the two of them just lately, she rather thought he might fancy her too, so why was she feeling so hesitant about taking this thing any further?
She had come to the conclusion that it was because he wasn't staying in the village for long, in fact his time at the school had finished yesterday, so if she did meet up with him and they really fell for each other, it would end up being a long distance relationship, which wasn't ideal, but on the other hand if she never dated him she might regret it forever.
So she had made up her mind to meet him for a date and see how it went, it was just surprising it had taken her all night and a good part of the morning to figure that out!
Buster was beginning to sound desperate so she reluctantly got out from beneath her warm duvet and went downstairs to let him out, he went madly rushing from one side of her pretty but diminutive garden to the other, obviously a fox had been in and left his scent, she left him to his fun and went back inside to make herself a cup of coffee. As she sat drinking it she looked round her tiny kitchen, with its outdated cupboards and old butler’s sink, the quarry tiled floors were uneven and the ceiling needed painting. The rest of the cottage wasn't in any better shape, her furniture was old and losing its stuffing (that hadn't been helped by Buster taking a fancy to one of the arms of her sofa) and the polished wooden floors were looking dull and in need of varnish, generally it was looking unloved.
'A bit like me,' thought Tracy, 'well maybe that's all going to change, I owe it to myself to give it a shot.'
She decided to make the first move and so with trembling fingers, she dialled the mobile number that Simon had given her, it was ringing…it rang and
rang and then just when she thought it would go to voice mail and she could leave a message.
'Hello,' said a soft sleepy woman's voice, Tracy cut off the call straight away and sat down with a thump…oh my god another bastard, and she had been so taken in, thinking that he'd started fancying her…
You’re a fool Tracy, who do you think you are…Maggie?
Obviously he was just another bastard away from home trying it on with the first bit of stuff he'd seen. Her phone suddenly started ringing…Simon…she cut the call and switched off the phone. Thank goodness it hadn't gone any further, at least she had found out now before she had really lost her heart.
Tracy had been rejected so many times in her life that she had perfected 'getting on with it', so she had a shower and washed her hair ready for Helen's big day at the community hall later…and if she thought she heard her front door bell ring a couple of times as she dried her hair, she ignored it, she shared her breakfast with Buster and then decided to take him for a long walk. The sun was shining even if there was a chill in the air and as Tracy walked her familiar route across Kenley common and into the woods she started to calm down, maybe she was jumping to conclusions here, after all it could have been anyone. 'Oh shut up Tracy who's going to be in his room that early in the morning?' But think about it why would he be asking her out on a date if he was sleeping with someone. Tracy hadn't ever seen him with anyone, even when she'd bumped into him a couple of times in the pub he had always been alone. 'No I think there's more to it,' she thought, 'I may have over reacted a bit, the least I can do is give the man a chance to explain'. With that settled she started back towards home much to Buster's disgust, the walk which had started out looking like an all dayer had dwindled into a half hour run!