Remedy House

by Ruth Hay

  “But, but…. I have never heard such a thing, Faith Jeffries. Shakespeare is a master. You can trace his works in the majority of films and plays written today. He had the universal themes and characters. We can recognize his men and women despite the differences of our centuries. Their emotions and desires are ours today.”

  “Not mine! I am sorry Mrs. Dempster. You will have to find another way to get me through this. I simply cannot read this play stuff. My eyes cross by the end of page one.”

  Hilary threw up her hands in despair. Faith had to get the marks this year to keep her on course.

  The girl was right about one thing. Another way would have to be found. She decided to do some online research with Honor’s help and look for alternatives. If the right plays were playing at the Stratford Festival Theatre’s stage this year, it could be useful to go there to see them performed, although quite expensive. She would not give up yet. In the meantime she had a few months before first term exams loomed up and there was plenty more to concentrate on if Faith was to be successful in school.

  There was an unexpected advantage for Hilary. She was aware that her mind was more at ease when she was busy and involved. Leonard was right about that. Faith occupied evening hours and during the day she was helping out with groceries while Eve was unwell. In addition, the volunteer driver position was shaping up nicely as an occasional daytime distraction.

  * * *

  Strangely enough, the quiet, secret moments up in the top tower room in the dark of night were a kind of relief for Faith from all the tension related to school life.

  There were moments when she was just beginning to think this father project might be her salvation.

  A real father might take her away from all this stress and look after her. He might not require his lost daughter to be a genius at school. Maybe he had heaps of money to spare and he would set her up in a nice house somewhere far from London.

  In her more awake, and sane, moments, she understood this thinking derived from lack of sleep. It was nothing more than total fantasy. Pure escapism.

  Life was not like that. Life was a drugged-out mother, social services hounding you, running away from problems and skipping school.

  But that was her old life. That life was gone now thanks to Aunt Honor, and Hilary and the J.J. gang at school and a clean comfy bed in her own room and all the food she wanted. Thanks to everyone at Harmony House she had escaped to a far better present. She owed them all so much.

  If Hilary wanted her to study she would do her best. If Jolene wanted her to persevere with this vlog for a few weeks at most, she would try her best.

  * * *

  By the time it was dark enough, and she had placed the ladder, and checked out the windows and listened for noises inside the house, she was already growing weary. The climb up the ladder was the most perilous part and needed full concentration. Getting safely inside the little room brought a sigh of relief. She set up the tablet and picked up the Finding Faith’s Father card she left there for safekeeping. Once she was connected to YouTube for a moment or two, she lowered the card and talked to the screen in the half light.

  * * *

  “Hello again. Don’t know if there’s anyone out there hearing me but I am still looking for my father, wherever he is. My Mom is gone now so I can’t ask her for help in this.

  You see, it’s complicated. Mom was very young. Her parents disapproved of her lifestyle, if you could call it that. Mom was not sure who my father was, or else she didn’t want to say.

  My grandparents are dead but back then they found a young lad who was also in trouble and they pretty much bribed him into marrying her and staying around for the birth so it would all look legit to the rest of the world. He’s not the one I’m looking for but I do know his name, I think. If by some miracle he sees this there’s a chance he might know the real dad.

  Maybe. Probably not.

  You can tell this is all very unlikely. I’ll definitely never try to find my father ever again.

  If you are out there and want to find a daughter called Faith. I’m waiting.”

  * * *

  She clicked off and suddenly realized she had forgotten to wear the dark glasses. Now her face was more recognizable although her dark sweatshirt hood still covered up her light-coloured hair.

  Who cares? No one cares! The internet is huge and no one wants to get mixed up with some kid who has such a dysfunctional family story. Goodnight and goodbye!

  She climbed carefully back down the ladder and slipped inside the front door. The spare key was kept in the pocket of her sweatshirt if she needed it. Mavis must be up late reading or listening to music.

  It was the last clear thought she remembered before dropping her clothes by her bed and falling onto the duvet in a dead sleep, still wearing her underwear.

  Jolene checked Faith’s YouTube early every morning for responses. It was exciting to see the posts but there were no results despite her outreach to other platforms.

  She felt disappointed each time. There was something so sad and lonely about the dark room with no discernible features other than the dim face under the hood.

  It was the spoken word part of the post that really got to her. It was like J.J. felt secure talking from her heart to the universe in such an honest way, as you would to a good friend. Except J.J. had never had a good friend until the school group came along.

  Personally, Jolene could not imagine what it must be like to be Faith Joan Jeffries. She had grown up in a stable home with a pesky young brother but great parents. She had everything she could possibly need.

  She had a kind of security she never had to question. For J.J. it was so different. So very different.

  This last entry actually made her cry. She had tears in her eyes when she checked into the responses and almost dropped her laptop computer when the screen exploded with comments.

  Hey Faith girl! You are not alone. I had a deadbeat dad. I don’t care to ever see him. You will be happier without him.

  This vlog is breaking my heart. Good luck to you Faith. You deserve better.

  Let’s see your face. You could be an old guy on the make.

  Are you in danger or in serious trouble? Call this number for help.

  I am looking for a sister about your age. It could be you.

  I grew up in Hamilton. Parts of your story sound familiar. Did your mother attend Blackstone High School?

  Look Faith! You will be sixteen soon. Have a happy birthday and don’t worry about this dad thing. Most folk have a missing part of their lives and they do just fine.

  I like your name. Let’s see more of you. Much more.

  Hi there kid! Have Faith! That’s a joke. Miracles do happen you know. Try this site I like.

  There was plenty more like this and Jolene immediately realized she was in deep. She could not deal with these responses without consulting J.J. She got through breakfast fast and grabbed her backpack and ran for the bus stop. She had to corner J.J. and talk to her before classes.

  As she stood back from the bus stop, she thought about what she had read online. How would her friend feel about this torrent of interest? How could they weed out the crazies from actual possible information? What if this was only the beginning of a daily deluge? What had she got J.J. into?

  * * *

  Faith Joan Jeffries stumbled off the bus in a daze. She was falling asleep on the journey these days. Some strange inner clock always wakened her just as the bus turned into Viscount Road but she had to hustle to get it together in time to exit at her stop.

  Jolene was standing there. What was going on?

  “Look! We need to talk. Can we skip Home Room today? You can tell the office the buses were running late and I’ll make up some excuse. We’ll head for the mall right away. It’s still early. There will be hardly anyone around, except a few mall walkers getting exercise. Will you come?”

  “Uh, Jo, if there’s coffee to wake me up, I am so in. What’s the rush?”

>   “We can’t talk here. Hurry along before someone from school spots us.”

  Westmount Mall was going through a number of changes. There were closed stores and plenty of places where there was little, to no, foot traffic. Jo and Faith bought coffee and soon found a bench in a far corner where Jo opened up her laptop without saying a word.

  Faith took a couple of sips and felt the caffeine roar through her body. Then she looked closely at Jo. Her friend was the prettiest girl in grade ten. Her styled jet-black hair and blue eyes usually attracted a lot of male attention but at this moment no one would think she was a beauty. Her shorter bits of hair were standing on end around her face and her eyes looked as if she had recently been crying.

  “Look, Jo, whatever it is you can tell me. I’ve never seen you so upset even when you got that B+ last year.”

  “It’s not about me. It’s about the vlog. You got responses.”

  “Really? What did people say? Can we look now? Is there anything we can use? I did not truly expect anyone to pay attention to the stupid posts I did. I thought it was a dud right from the start.”

  “Stop, J.J.! Just stop!”

  “What’s wrong?”

  Faith’s excitement drained out of her when she saw Jolene’s reaction. Her friend was squirming around on the seat as if she had been stung by something. She was looking very uncomfortable.

  Jolene could not find the words to explain. She opened up her laptop case and clicked into the YouTube site, advancing quickly to the responses. Faith pulled the laptop over to her so it was balanced between them and she could read the screen.

  There was silence for a minute while Faith read at top speed.

  She took in a deep breath and blurted out. “But this has to be good, Jo! There’s some dorks and creeps, of course. That was always a possibility. We can screen those out and see if there’s anything useful. What’s the problem?”

  “Have you checked that cell phone number yet? There could be more of the same on it by now. This is only the beginning. It could take hours to sort out what’s good from the bad. I am sorry I got you into this J.J. I know you have a lot on your plate this year. This is a complication you could have done without.”

  “Come on, Jo! It’s not that bad. We don’t need to reply unless there’s a strong reason to believe what’s said might be helpful. I can ask my aunt about the Blackstone school one. Anything else can wait. My next vlog will have warnings about how cruel it is to give false hope. Those dorks will find another victim. It’s cool, Jo! Honestly. We can do this.”

  Faith was trying to reassure her friend and it was an unusual thing for her to do. Jolene was the positive one. She never flagged when something difficult presented itself. Faith felt guilty for the state Jolene was in. She was not unaware of the problems, but when faced with a friend in such a negative condition she had very little choice.

  “Listen to me, Jo! No one knows who, or where, we are. We can quit any time we want. It’s all good with me. Don’t worry so much.”

  Jolene was surprised at J.J.’s sudden turnaround. She expected her to blow up and blame her for everything which would have been a fair assessment. If she had not gone overboard on Twitter and the other social media, this might not have happened.

  Then again, perhaps it was not such a disaster after all. Her natural caution insisted on a watch and wait process from here. If things got out of control she would strongly advise J.J. to shut it all down at once. Neither of them needed this kind of hassle at the beginning of the school year.

  She now wished she had never insisted on pursuing the idea in the first place.

  Forcing a weak smile, she sipped her coffee and tried to look enthusiastic while J.J. talked about the laptop responses. Another one came popping up as she spoke.

  I have heard about your story. I might be able to help. My name is Mel Jeffries.

  Chapter 13

  Mavis and Eve had the bonfire as promised. It happened for several days in a row as Eve poured out her frustration and anger in page after page of black images and shadowy, nightmare scenes.

  Mavis deliberately avoided looking too closely. She stuffed the pages into the fire pit and poked them well down with a stick so they disappeared into smoke as soon as possible.

  Eve never offered anything about her feelings until the fourth fire burned out.

  “I can’t believe such a simple act can have this amount of power. I am sleeping better already and during the day I have more control over my memories. But, Mavis, I can now see that I need professional help to move on from this forever. You have been a lifesaver. I can’t ask more of you other than to ask if you can recommend someone to take this further. I would prefer a female psychologist or therapist.

  Don’t answer right away. Give it some thought.”

  It was exactly what Mavis hoped for. She was too close to the whole Eve situation to be an objective person for long term talk therapy but she knew the best female practitioner in London. If Thelma Wilmington had space in her busy schedule, she would be the one to bring Eve out of the cloud and into the life she deserved. She would contact her right away. Thelma often helped out when Mavis had a client at the courthouse who needed urgent help to face her fears.

  She would drive Eve to Thelma’s office in town any time she needed for appointments. It was the perfect solution to an issue Mavis now took responsibility for.

  From the start of the co-housing project, at Camden Corners, she had taken Eve under her wing and she pushed Hilary to accept her as a house candidate even when she was unsure how, or if, Eve Barton, abused wife, would fit in. The subsequent dire events in Hilary’s former home could be laid at the feet of Mavis Montgomery. If Thelma could spare the time, she would be doing a great favour and relieving the mind of Mavis, as well as giving a new lease of life to Eve.

  Perfect solution.

  Andy Patterson had made an application for two events in the November Agility Trials of the Stormont, Dundas and Glengarry Dog Association’s annual show.

  When he received the online confirmation he had two problems to deal with. His sessions with Astrid and Oscar would require more time to work them up to a higher standard and, first and foremost, he needed to be more forthright with their owner.

  Vilma Smith was noncommittal on the whole matter. He thought back over their admittedly sparse conversations, to see where he might have said or done something to discourage her from the idea of taking a weekend to go north to the show.

  She acknowledged how well the dogs responded to his instruction.

  She continued to drive them back and forth to the farm without expressing any concerns about either the time, or cost, of the trips.

  She shared tea or coffee with him while the dogs ran off steam in the enclosure near the stream.

  She never asked personal questions related to his former life in the police force.

  Was that it? Had she been so turned off by his unexpected confession about the accident with King, and his subsequent physical burns and mental depression, that she really wanted as little as possible to do with him?

  He thought she had accepted all of that without question but he could be wrong. It was difficult to know what was inside the head of a sophisticated woman like Vilma Smith. He knew she was way out of his league. It was more than likely he misinterpreted her silence as acceptance rather than the only way she could continue while he worked with her dogs. The subject of his divorce and his isolation at the farm never arose in their limited talk over tea and the snacks she brought.

  Suddenly he saw her silence as troubling. Wasn’t it more normal for a woman to want to hear about his previous relationship? Women were usually curious about all that stuff. Vilma only ever asked about the dogs. Nothing about him. Nothing. Ever.

  His mind ranged back to the one time he thought there was a change in her attitude.

  Back in February, when Vilma and the women from Harmony House were returning from a holiday in Jamaica, he looked after the dogs and drove
through a snowstorm to London airport to rescue the group when the airport was snowed in. She seemed genuinely glad to see him then. He felt closer to her than at any time before, or since.

  Had he done anything to build on that breakthrough? Or had he ignore the opportunity and let things go back to a neutral state?

  Damn! She was likely only happy to know her dogs were safe. I never was any good at interpreting female emotions.

  When disappointing thoughts struck him, he did what came naturally and got up from the kitchen table and went out to walk along the stream and wear off his energy. After pounding the grassy verge for a couple of miles in the fresh air, he could think more clearly.

  There was not now, or ever would be, a closer relationship with Vilma Smith.

  She did not want it, or need it.

  Given this revelation, it was an imposition for him to ask her to leave London and drive north for hours to a dog show involving at least one overnight stay in a hotel. He could see that now.

  The problem remained of whether he could change her mind and get her cooperation. Otherwise he would lose the chance to demonstrate just how well he had trained her dogs.

  He asked himself to be brutally honest. Was his interest in his own success at the agility show, with its promise of a future business, or was he more interested in unlikely success with Vilma Smith?

  The answer to these questions was, possibly, the most important decision he had made since his life changed completely with the death of King.

  Darkness was falling. Tomorrow he had a full day of plot digging and leaf raking for his clients. Tonight, he suspected he was not going to get much sleep.

  Vilma tossed and turned for an hour.