Scars

by Dan Scottow

  And all is calm once more. The breeze has passed, the trees are still. Normality restored.

  It’s simply a lack of sleep, she tells herself.

  She’s been waking in the night a lot lately. Taking much longer to drift off in the evenings. Not like her at all. She resigns herself to the fact that she may have to make a trip into town, to use the internet in the library. Search for some stronger tablets. Her body must be building up a resistance to the old ones. Perhaps Lucy will do it for her, if she asks nicely. The thought of leaving the cottage terrifies her.

  The loch, flat, calm, like a millpond, stretches out before her. Sunlight breaks through cloud, glistening on its surface. And in a moment of clarity, so rare these days, Diana smiles. She stands from her chair, heading back inside to continue her search.

  42

  Lucy

  When Lucy returns from her walk, Diana is rummaging about in the trunk beneath the living-room window. She’s pulled files and books out. An old baby’s blanket lies crumpled in the middle of the floor. Lucy’s eyes drift to the letter c neatly embroidered in one corner, then flick away.

  ‘Everything okay?’ she asks, raising an eyebrow.

  ‘I know it’s in here somewhere. We got it for Claire when she was a child. She used to love it!’

  ‘Love what?’

  She is excited, animated. Her movements are quick. She pulls things out, tossing them aside, as Lucy watches, shaking her head.

  ‘Aha!’ she cries suddenly, pulling a black box from the bottom of the chest. It appears to be a board game.

  ‘Here, come see.’ She beckons to Lucy, who crosses the room, standing above her. She stares at what Diana is holding. One word across the top in chunky capital letters.

  OUIJA.

  Then smaller, underneath, Mystifying Oracle. The brand Parker Brothers, is written at the bottom, below a photograph of two pairs of hands, fingers touching a pointer. Lucy lets out an audible sigh, finding it difficult to hide her irritation.

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding,’ she says through gritted teeth.

  Diana passes it to Lucy.

  ‘Here, take this to the table.’

  She pulls herself up, lifting her cane.

  ‘Diana, this is ridiculous…’

  ‘No. She’s here, I’m telling you!’ She places her hand on the game. ‘This will prove it. You’ll see… I’m not crazy! You’ll have to believe me once we’ve spoken to her.’

  She hobbles over, sits on a dining chair, pats the tabletop. Lucy places the box down in front of her, and she opens it up, taking out the contents. Lucy has never seen one before, but she knows what it is. A large sturdy board sits on the table. In the left-hand uppermost edge is a picture of a sun, next to the word yes. On the opposite side, no, and a moon. Letters from A to M run in an arc through the middle, with a second row beneath it from N to Z. The numbers one to nine, followed by a zero, are in a straight line underneath. At the very bottom, the branding again, and an etching of old-fashioned-looking people playing with the game in each corner, with the word goodbye centred between them.

  Diana lifts a white plastic teardrop-shaped planchette from the box, placing it beside the board. It has a round clear window towards the point. She is smiling, whispering to herself.

  ‘I’m not doing this, it’s stupid,’ Lucy says, arms folded.

  ‘Shh… Sit.’ Diana motions to the chair opposite.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you afraid of it? If we follow the rules, you needn’t be.’

  ‘No, Diana, I’m not afraid. It’s a load of rubbish. A stupid game from the seventies.’

  Diana’s head whips towards her, a wicked smile creeps onto her lips.

  ‘If you don’t believe, then what harm can it do?’

  Lucy lets out a long, slow breath, but sits down. She figures the quickest way to shut Diana up, is by humouring her… for now. Anything to get her to calm down.

  ‘Right. What do I need to do?’

  Diana pulls a sheet of yellowing paper from the bottom of the box.

  ‘We simply ask questions. And she will answer.’

  Lucy rolls her eyes.

  ‘You have to take it seriously though. If you treat it frivolously, it won’t work.’

  ‘Fine.’ She glances out of the window.

  ‘It’s the middle of the afternoon. Shouldn’t we wait until it’s dark or something?’

  Diana laughs.

  ‘The spirits don’t care what time of day it is, my dear. Nor are they bothered by how light it is outside. But there are rules.’

  She holds the paper up, reading aloud.

  ‘One. Never play alone. Two. Do not allow the board to count down through the numbers…’

  Lucy barely manages to stifle a snigger, resulting in a glare from the end of the table.

  ‘Three. Always place a silver item on the board before playing.’

  Diana rests the instructions in her lap, reaching her hands up to her throat. She unfastens the clasp of a delicate chain hanging around her neck; a tiny silver crucifix, set with emeralds, sparkles in the light magnificently. She places it carefully in front of her.

  She continues to read.

  ‘Four. Never mention God.’ She stares directly at Lucy. ‘Five. Always say goodbye.’

  She places the sheet in front of her, pointing to it.

  ‘We must obey these rules. That’s how we stay safe.’ She pauses, looking at a space beside her. ‘You’ll need to move down here. You can’t reach from there.’

  Lucy stands, carrying her chair, and sits next to Diana, who lights a candle in the centre of the table. The flame dances around wildly before settling. She takes the planchette, placing it in the middle of the board.

  ‘So we must both place our fingers on top, but don’t apply pressure.’

  Diana touches it, waiting for Lucy to reciprocate.

  ‘I can’t actually believe we’re going to do this,’ she says obstinately, but reaches forwards, regardless. Her hand brushes against the other woman’s, sending a tingling sensation through her body. She rests her fingers lightly on top of the pointer. The room feels unseasonably cool.

  ‘So what now?’

  ‘Are you ready?’ Diana asks solemnly. Lucy nods.

  ‘Then we begin.’

  43

  Diana

  Trying not to be irritated by Lucy’s lackadaisical attitude, Diana exhales a drawn-out breath. She closes her eyes momentarily, swallowing hard.

  ‘Is there somebody here?’ she asks, in a low voice.

  Lucy lets out a nasal snigger, shoulders bobbing up and down. Diana shoots her a death stare.

  She repeats the question.

  The flame of the candle flickers in a breeze, and the two women’s eyes meet over the table. In her peripheral vision, she sees something, a spider perhaps, scurry across the carpet. She grimaces, returning her gaze to the table. The planchette wobbles beneath their fingers. Lucy narrows her eyes, giving her companion a sideways glance, smirking. Suddenly the pointer slides across the board, settling above the word yes.

  ‘That’s not funny!’ Lucy cries.

  ‘It wasn’t me.’

  ‘Yeah, right.’

  ‘Shh,’ Diana hisses.

  Clearing her throat, she continues.

  ‘Who are you?’

  The plastic begins to skim over various letters, slowly at first, gaining momentum as it goes. Two words are spelled out before it falls still once more.

  You know.

  She regards the board, considering her next question. Hearing Lucy gasp sharply, she looks at her.

  ‘The candle,’ she whispers.

  The flame, extinguished, a plume of white smoke spiralling up into the air. A shiver runs through Diana’s body. Her eyes dart towards Lucy, who is no longer smirking.

  ‘I don’t like this,’ the girl breathes.

  ‘Keep your hands on the planchette,’ Diana commands, before continuing. ‘Tell me,’ she says.

&nb
sp; Gliding over the alphabet, a single word is produced.

  Rose.

  ‘Why are you here?’

  Diana.

  She frowns.

  It begins to move quickly over random letters, at first it doesn’t appear to make any sense.

  ‘What is that?’ Lucy whispers. Diana shakes her head, shrugging.

  ‘Is it Latin?’

  ‘Could be… alea iacta est?’

  ‘What does that mean?’ Diana hears panic… or perhaps even fear in Lucy’s tone.

  ‘No idea.’

  Another quiver, and the pointer lurches towards the numbers.

  10, 9, 8…

  ‘I thought the rules said not to let it do that?’ Lucy shouts, terror resonating in her voice.

  ‘Quiet!’ Diana replies.

  7, 6, 5…

  ‘Diana!’

  4, 3, 2…

  Lucy stands, pushing the planchette. It tumbles from the table, knocking Diana’s necklace to the floor.

  ‘No!’ she wails.

  ‘This is ridiculous. I’m not doing it!’

  ‘We didn’t say goodbye. You’ve left the board open!’

  ‘I don’t care. It’s total bullshit. You’re moving it. Trying to scare me! It won’t work. I’m done.’

  ‘I promise you it wasn’t me. I would never–’

  ‘Stop, Diana! I’ve humoured you, okay, because I felt sorry for you… but I’m not doing it anymore. This isn’t funny. This whole situation is…’ She laughs, shaking her head, but her eyes look angry as she paces back and forth.

  ‘You’ve had your fun. I know it was you. Enough is enough,’ she says, but Diana thinks a tremor to her voice betrays her.

  ‘I need a glass of water.’ She storms out through the door.

  Diana lets out a slow, quivering sigh. She bends, picking up the planchette. With trembling hands, she places it back in the centre of the board. She hears a tap running. Her eyes flick down to the sheet of rules on the table.

  Never play alone.

  Holding her breath, she quickly pushes the lens over the word goodbye. As soon as she does, Lucy screams from next door. Something smashes against the wall, shattering. Diana rises, grabbing her cane, and makes her way to the kitchen.

  Lucy stands shaking by the sink. Diana follows the direction of her wide-eyed stare. On the floor in one corner, lies a shattered glass, splinters reflecting the light in an iridescent rainbow. She gazes at the girl, mouth open. Tears stream down Lucy’s cheeks as she runs towards Diana, embracing her in a tight hug. As Diana gently strokes her back, Lucy whispers three words in her ear.

  ‘She was here.’

  44

  Diana

  ‘You saw her?’ she shouts, holding the girl at arm’s length. Her voice is brimming with excitement.

  ‘No, I didn’t see anyone. But it was a feeling.’

  Diana furrows her brow.

  ‘The room suddenly became icy cold. I felt something on the back of my neck, like somebody breathing on me. I span around, and the glass flew from my hand. Shattered against the wall.’

  She nods towards the remnants on the floor.

  ‘You see! I told you. I knew it! Didn’t I tell you?’

  Diana turns and paces the floor, shaking her head.

  ‘I don’t believe in… ghosts!’ Lucy whines.

  ‘You have to believe your own eyes though. You can’t deny what has just happened.’

  Lucy sits, wiping away tears.

  ‘It doesn’t make any sense. There must be a rational explanation.’

  ‘We broke the rules. We left the board open. Anything could have slipped through. I closed it… said goodbye, but it may have been too late.’

  ‘Diana…’ Lucy’s shoulders slump, her head tilts back. ‘It’s all hocus-pocus. It’s not real!’

  ‘How do you explain the glass then?’

  ‘I can’t.’ She looks at her feet, lacing her fingers between themselves. ‘But I don’t believe in the supernatural.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s time to start.’

  The girl sits rigidly up in her chair. She turns slowly towards Diana, eyes wide.

  ‘Why did you break my vase?’ she asks, voice dull, monotone. She doesn’t sound like herself. A shiver runs through Diana.

  ‘Wh… what? What did you say?’

  Lucy blinks a few times, looking dazed. She shakes her head.

  ‘I said I don’t believe in the supernatural.’

  Diana limps to her.

  ‘No, after that. Something about a vase.’

  Lucy frowns.

  ‘I didn’t say anything else.’

  ‘Yes, you did. You asked me why I broke your vase.’

  ‘My vase? No, Diana, you’re mistaken. What are you talking about?’

  Diana narrows her eyes, but the girl seems sincere.

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’

  Lucy looks confused.

  ‘I’m going out to my studio,’ the older woman says, crossing to the far wall. She turns briefly, glancing back at Lucy, before exiting, closing the door behind her.

  45

  Diana

  She sits with the receiver pressed against her ear. Sweat trickles down from her hair, catching on the lip of the telephone. She’s dialled the number a few times, but nobody is answering. She dials again, and finally Mylo answers.

  ‘Hello, Mackenzie’s.’

  Diana breathes heavily down the line… suddenly doesn’t know how to broach the subject.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Mylo. It’s Diana Davenport.’

  He sighs.

  ‘Hi, Diana, how are you?’ he says impatiently.

  ‘Yes, yes. All fine. I need to ask you something though.’

  ‘Okay, shoot.’

  ‘Do you remember the vase you gave Rose?’

  He doesn’t respond.

  ‘The fancy one that got broken,’ she adds. There’s a pause. She knows he must remember. Rose made such a damn fuss about it.

  ‘Yes, what about it?’

  ‘Have you ever mentioned it to Lucy?’

  ‘No. Of course I haven’t. Why would I?’

  ‘You’re absolutely sure?’

  ‘One hundred per cent. What’s this about, Diana?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Thank you.’

  She hangs up, and sits staring at the wall. She wanted to use the Ouija board… was adamant it would prove to Lucy that she wasn’t crazy. But now she regrets it. The whole experience has left her terrified. The comment about the vase was the final nail in the coffin. She retreats to her bedroom, pulling the door firmly shut behind her.

  It was hot as hell. One of those rare Scottish summer days where there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Rose had arrived back from Mylo’s one afternoon carrying a delicate crystal vase, tall and slender. Quite beautiful really. Far too nice for someone like her.

  She’d been gushing about it, telling Diana how special it was. The following day she picked a bunch of flowers from the garden and the surrounding woodlands, arranging them in the vase. She’d placed it carefully on the kitchen windowsill at the back of the counter.

  Diana had stood admiring them for a while, until Rose informed her she was going upstairs to freshen up, as Mylo was coming to collect her soon.

  When Diana was sure Rose was upstairs, she leaned across the counter, plucking the vase from the sill. She sniffed the flowers, smiling. Glancing around, she let it slip from her fingers, watching as it seemed to fall in slow motion to the floor, smashing into thousands of tiny shards, spraying water up her legs. A few moments later, Rose came hurrying down the stairs.

  ‘Are you okay? What happened?’

  She stopped in the doorway, staring at the floor, mouth gaping. Her eyes flicked up to Diana, as tears began to well in her eyes.

  ‘You bitch!’ she hissed. ‘What have you done?’

  Diana held her hand to her lips.

  ‘I’m sorry. It was an accident. I don’t know how it happened. I tripped and kn
ocked it.’

  ‘Bullshit!’ Rose hollered. ‘You did it on purpose. I know you did. You can’t stand the fact that he loves me. That he gave me something nice. And you broke it out of spite.’

  Diana laughed.

  ‘You’re being ridiculous. It was an accident. Pure and simple.’

  The sound of Mylo’s boat drifted into the kitchen. Rose glared at Diana, before grabbing a jacket and storming towards the door.

  ‘Honestly, Rose, you’re overreacting,’ Diana said calmly.

  ‘Go to hell!’ she replied, slamming the door so hard, Diana feared the glass might shatter. She watched as Rose ran towards him, burying her face in his shoulder.

  Diana opened the door, lingering on the step so she could hear the conversation.

  ‘Mylo, I hate her! I hate her so much!’ she sobbed.

  ‘Hey, what’s happened? What’s all this about?’ he asked as he stroked the back of her head. He leaned in, inhaling deeply. Diana grimaced, looking away. Couldn’t bear to see him with her.

  ‘She broke the vase you gave me. Smashed it into smithereens. It’s destroyed!’

  ‘What? I’m sure it was an–’

  ‘Don’t even say it, Mylo! Don’t you dare say it was an accident. You always take her side and it isn’t fair.’

  ‘Come on, Rose. It’s not about taking sides.’

  ‘It is. For once I wish you’d support me, instead of looking at me like I’m making it all up. You don’t know her. What she’s like. She’s not the helpless innocent cripple she feigns to be when you’re around.’

  The words stung, but Diana didn’t move away. She stood fast, listening intently.

  ‘Right, okay. Tell me. What happened?’

  She wiped her eyes, drawing a deep breath.

  ‘I’d picked some flowers from the garden and arranged them in it. I placed them on the windowsill. I should have known better, but I thought I’d try and make the cottage seem a bit nicer. I was upstairs getting ready, and I heard a commotion from the kitchen, and when I went down, it was smashed all over the floor.’