Scourge of the Siren

by Bella Settarra

  “Seth, Raizel, good to see you.” Eban was on his feet in an instant, shaking the old man’s hand. He leaned over and gave the lady a quick kiss on the cheek before pulling up another chair for the couple to join them at the table. Seth kissed Jerusha and shook Amaranda’s hand. He had a twinkle in his eye, which told her he could be fun.

  “You must be the beautiful, Amaranda,” he said with a smile.

  She nodded to him as Raizel leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

  “We’ve heard so much about you,” Raizel said happily as she sat next to her husband.

  “We’ve been discussing their wedding,” Jerusha told them as she finished her coffee.

  Eban returned to the table with a tray of wineglasses and two red bottles.

  “So, when is the wedding?” Raizel sat forward excitedly.

  “Soon. We need to check with the registrar.” Eban competently poured the wine.

  “Will you be wearing a big dress? What color?” Raizel could hardly contain her enthusiasm.

  “We’re going to look at a few, then decide,” Jerusha told her, winking at Amaranda.

  “Well you’ll look lovely in whatever you choose,” Seth said with a smile.

  Amaranda beamed. So many people were happy for her, people she hardly knew.

  “I do wish Taneli could meet a nice girl like you,” Raizel confided quietly. She glanced around as if expecting him to turn up at any minute.

  “Yes, it doesn’t look like he’ll be getting married anytime soon, does it?” Jerusha offered her a sympathetic look.

  “Won’t he marry Mitzi?” Amaranda wondered.

  “Oh no, dear, Mitzi’s not the marrying sort.” Raizel sounded disappointed.

  “Neither is our son at the moment,” Seth said seriously. “He needs to sort himself out quick-smart.”

  “He’s gone off the rails a little, we think,” explained Raizel, taking another sip of her wine. “Won’t speak to us properly anymore. I think he’s hiding something.”

  “He must be a big worry to you.” Eban’s smiling mouth had tightened at the sound of the man’s name.

  “He was doing so well, lots of friends, nice apartment, smart clothes,” Seth explained, shaking his head. “Now he’s a complete mess!”

  “That place he’s moved into is dreadful, too. I can’t start to imagine why he moved from such a lovely home to that hovel.” Raizel sounded a little distraught. Tears began to well in her eyes. Seth put a soothing hand on hers and muttered some reassurance, which Amaranda could not quite hear.

  “Why don’t we powder our noses?” Jerusha suggested, getting up from her chair slowly.

  “Good idea,” Raizel said with a sniff.

  “Come with us, Amaranda.” Jerusha smiled, obviously noticing the bemused expression on her face.

  Amaranda stood and followed the ladies to the bathroom. They both dived into the closets, but Amaranda had to wait for one to become vacant. It didn’t take long for one to free up, and she could hear the old ladies chatting over the basin while she was in there.

  “Try not to worry, dear.” Jerusha soothed her friend, who was blowing her nose.

  “I don’t know what’s got into him.” Raizel sniffed. “He hardly speaks to us anymore and when he does he’s so rude and bad-tempered. I don’t know him anymore, Jerusha, he’s changed so much.”

  Amaranda came out of the stall as the ladies were picking up their purses.

  “I’ll meet you back out there,” she said, guessing that they were having a private conversation.

  “If you’re sure, dear?” Jerusha asked gratefully as they headed for the door.

  Amaranda smiled and nodded as she set about washing her hands. The floral soap smelled beautiful, reminding her of Refrainia. The island was covered in flowers and the sea breeze used to waft over them, spreading the scent everywhere. She wondered what the island looked like now that they had been cultivating it and renovating the houses. I must ask Eban about Super-Skype!

  “Is that a horn I hear? Oh no, it’s a Siren!”

  The strange comment hauled her from her reverie and she looked up into the face of her snarling nemesis—Mitzi!

  “Wh–what?”

  “You heard,” Mitzi sneered at her. “I know all about you, whore! I know you saved Eban and left the rest to drown. I know you just wanted him for sex and now you think you can get your hands on his money. Well, it won’t work. You won’t be around to enjoy him for much longer!”

  “Are you threatening me?” Anger mixed with fear and Amaranda looked ‘round for help, but they were alone.

  “I don’t need to. I’m not a murderer like you. You’re just going to disappear and leave Eban and me to get back together, like we were before. We’ll be planning our wedding soon, you’ll see.” Mitzi was putting bright-red color on her lips, admiring herself in the mirror.

  “And just what makes you think I’m going anywhere?” Amaranda’s rage was beginning to bubble deep within her. She was confused and worried, but anger was winning the war of her emotions.

  “Do I need to spell it out, dumbo? OK, I’ve got proof that you’re a Siren—a whore and a murderer. I know Eban already knows but he’s a man and they think with their dicks so he won’t be bothered, besides he was the one you chose to save, wasn’t he? I doubt his mom knows though, or she wouldn’t be welcoming you into the family, would she? And if Lamech found out, in the state he’s in, it would kill him! So we both know the best thing for you to do now is to get the hell away from here before everyone finds out. And don’t worry, they will find out soon enough. And when they do they’re going to hate your guts, especially if Lamech dies because of you! Get packing, whore!”

  Mitzi left the bathroom with a satisfied grin on her face. Amaranda fell to the floor in a heap of misery. Tears flooded her face. She wiped them angrily with the back of her hand. If she didn’t return soon, they would come looking for her and how would she explain the state she was in? She stood and washed her face in cold water. She blew her nose furiously and smoothed her hair with her hands. The door slowly opened.

  “Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry!” It was Jerusha. She threw her arms around the young girl and squeezed her tight. She smelled of musky flowers.

  “I’m OK.” It took all Amaranda’s effort to force a weak smile through her tears.

  “You are not and it’s all my fault. I should never have left you alone in this strange place. What was I thinking? I’m so sorry. I was so busy talking to Raizel I forgot this is all so new to you. You must have been so frightened left here on your own!”

  Jerusha pulled some soft paper towels from the dispenser and wiped Amaranda’s face gently. Amaranda sniffed, a little stunned at the old lady’s assumption that she was the reason for the upset. She felt very guilty that Jerusha should blame herself, but for now, there was nothing else she could say that would make sense. She allowed the kind lady to clean her up and take her back to the lounge. Eban and Seth stood as they neared, concern etched in their faces. Raizel looked apologetic.

  “It was my fault. I left her there to fend for herself. She was scared. I should have thought. I’m so sorry,” Jerusha told them all.

  Eban reached out and put an arm around her, helping her to her seat.

  “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m not looking after you very well at all, am I?” he murmured in her ear as he kissed her head.

  The guilt was almost too much to bear. Amaranda listened to them all blaming themselves, trying to protest that she was fine, that she was being silly, but they weren’t having any of it. She took a large glug of her wine. The warmth was soothing and helped her stop sobbing. Eban refilled her glass and she drank some more. The taste was even sweeter than the wine they had drunk at home, and it slid smoothly down her throat, relaxing her.

  “Eban said you’re not from around here?” Seth was kindly trying to make conversation.

  “No, Sir. I come from an island near to Eastland.” Her voice was croaky but she ma
naged to get the words out. Try to act normal. Worry about what to do later. Her mind was in a whirl.

  “An island, eh? I didn’t realize there were any inhabited islands left anymore.” Seth sounded surprised.

  “Refrainia is the only inhabited island left,” Eban explained, taking a sip of his wine. “They have their own rules and their own unique way of life.” He smiled at Amaranda.

  “Well, I’ll have to look it up,” Seth said with a kind smile. Please don’t!

  Eban patted Amaranda’s hand, undoubtedly sensing her uneasiness.

  “We saw Pascal Levine yesterday,” Eban said brightly. “He’s looking out for a job for me.”

  Amaranda sighed at the welcome change of subject and gazed out of the window as she drank her wine. She was vaguely aware of them talking about jobs and sailing, and the recent changes on the docks, but she let her mind wander. How has Mitzi found out about me? How can I stop anyone else finding out? Am I really going to have to leave Eban?

  The conversation had somehow got back to Taneli when Amaranda became aware of a yawn that she couldn’t stifle. Raizel’s eyes were watery again and Seth was frowning. Jerusha looked sympathetic. Eban was drumming his fingers irritably on the wooden table.

  “You look tired, sweetheart, we’d better get you home.” Eban was on his feet in an instant, seemingly grateful for the escape route. Amaranda flushed, hoping they hadn’t thought her rude.

  “Maybe a little.” She got up and grabbed her purse, relieved to be getting away from there. While the company had been lovely, her heart wasn’t in it after her encounter with Mitzi, and she had some serious thinking to do.

  Eban helped his mother up as they all said good-bye and they headed for the car.

  “Phew! What a night!” Jerusha exclaimed as they drove home.

  “I’m so sorry,” Amaranda said, turning round to face her.

  “Oh no dear, you did nothing wrong.” Jerusha smiled at her kindly. “I am so glad Eban doesn’t give me all the trouble Taneli’s giving his parents. They were beside themselves. I didn’t know what to say for the best.”

  “You did great, Mom, as always,” Eban reassured her, glancing at her through the rearview mirror.

  Jerusha flushed. Amaranda thought how pretty she looked. She had been so happy when she had got back from the hospital, and now it seemed she was carrying everyone else’s troubles on her shoulders. And I’m about to add to them!

  By the time they arrived at home, they were all so tired they went straight to bed.

  “We’ll talk about wedding dresses again tomorrow,” Jerusha promised as she made her way up the stairs.

  Amaranda smiled weakly and nodded. She couldn’t tell her she wouldn’t be around tomorrow.

  Chapter 12

  The heavy thud in Eban’s heart matched the loud thudding on the front door.

  “What is it?” Jerusha stood on the landing in her dressing gown and slippers, as he ran down the stairs in just his shorts.

  “Don’t worry, Mom,” he called to her as he got to the front door.

  Two men stood there, showing him their ID cards.

  “Eban Gal? We’ve got a few questions for you,” one of the men said sternly.

  “Come in, detectives.” He led them into the lounge as Jerusha made her way into the kitchen to make the coffee.

  “Apologies for the early hour, but we’ve had some information we need to follow up urgently.” The first man spoke again as they took their seats in the plush lounge.

  Eban’s heart was in his mouth, where it had been ever since he’d woken up not five minutes ago and realized that Amaranda was gone.

  “We understand that you were the sole survivor of the New World, a large cargo ship which wrecked en route to Eastland, is that correct?” The second man was speaking now, having whipped out his electronic notebook. He was younger than the first, with sandy-colored hair and light hazel eyes. His demeanor was friendlier and far more relaxed than his Detective Sergeant’s was.

  “Yes, sir. She hit rocks just off one of the islands and went down. I was knocked unconscious when I fell from the crow’s nest but got washed up on the island.”

  There was a snort from the older man, who consulted his own notebook. “I believe you were saved and pulled onto the island by a young lady by the name of Amaranda?”

  Jerusha came in carrying a tray of hot coffee and croissants, which she placed on the small table in front of them.

  “I thought you might need some breakfast, gentlemen,” she said with a slight smile, and began pouring the coffee.

  “Thank you, ma’am, that’s most kind of you.” The younger man gave her a massive grin as he sat forward and took a cup from her. “I’m Detective Yan Farache and this here’s my boss, Detective Sergeant Mordechai Blum.”

  “Pleased to meet you, gentlemen.” Jerusha nodded to them as she sat on the sofa beside Eban, with her coffee.

  Det. Sgt. Blum rolled his eyes, evidently bored with the pleasantries, and cleared his throat. “We’re looking into some information we have received regarding Eban Gal and a young girl called Amaranda, we don’t have a surname for her as yet. Would you be the mother of Eban Gal?” The formalities were obviously a tedious necessity to the black-haired man with matching eyes. He couldn’t hide the irritability in his voice.

  “I am Jerusha Gal, mother of Eban.” She nodded calmly in concurrence.

  “Where is Amaranda?” Eban asked behind gritted teeth.

  Everyone stared at him in silent shock.

  The senior officer was first to speak. “I understood she was residing here?” His dark, soulless eyes flitted between Eban and his mother.

  “She’s not here. I don’t know where she is,” Eban said evenly.

  The detectives exchanged glances before Blum nodded at his inferior. “Detective Farache would like to check the house.” It wasn’t a question.

  “What for?” Jerusha asked politely.

  “We don’t know yet.”

  She nodded to the amenable detective, who took a croissant with him.

  “When was the last time you saw the young lady?” Blum was asking Eban, though his eyes still kept flitting to his mother.

  “Last night, when she got into my bed,” Eban replied. “When I woke just now she was gone. I thought you might know something about it.”

  Det. Sgt. Blum huffed in annoyance. “We thought she was here,” he admitted, typing a quick note.

  “Well, as you can see she’s not here,” Jerusha stated calmly. “Was there anything else you wanted to ask, Detective Sergeant?”

  “Yes, we do have a number of questions.” He was obviously irritated at being knocked off-guard and hurriedly consulted his notes.

  “No sign, Sarg.” Det. Farache returned to the room, shaking his head.

  “I already told you she wasn’t here,” Eban said, leaning forward to help himself to a croissant.

  “Did she take anything?” Blum asked.

  “Hard to tell. She doesn’t have much, does she, Mr. Gal?” Farache took another croissant as he asked.

  “No, we only got here a couple of days ago. The island she lived on was hot. They only wore bikinis and didn’t put any importance on material things. She hardly brought anything with her. As far as I can see she didn’t take anything.” Eban munched on his warm croissant as he spoke. He had glanced round the room when he realized she had gone, and noticed that all the new clothes he had bought her were still hanging on the outside of the wardrobe where she had left them. She hadn’t even claimed closet space!

  “Do you have any idea where she might have gone?” Det. Sgt. Blum sounded accusatory.

  “No.” Eban was often blunt when his back was up.

  “She got upset last night when she was left in the ladies’ room. She wouldn’t even venture out until I came back for her. She won’t have wandered off anywhere.” Jerusha sounded concerned.

  “She doesn’t know the place and she doesn’t know anyone. I can’t see her just tak
ing off.” Eban said the words but didn’t feel them. His fear was that that was exactly what she had done. Why?

  “So how do you account for her not being here?” Blum almost snarled.

  Jerusha stared at him indignantly. “She probably went for a short walk. I expect she’ll be back any moment. What exactly is this about, Detective Sergeant?” Her voice was a little more abrupt. Jerusha Gal didn’t tolerate rudeness in her home.

  “We are following a line of enquiry concerning your son and the young lady.”

  “I gathered that,” Jerusha said crisply, “but you have neglected to explain what you are enquiring about.”

  Blum huffed and let out a long sigh of frustration. He couldn’t deny she was right.

  “We need to know why your son was the only survivor of the New World,” he began, a little petulantly. “And what happened to rest of the crew. It seems suspicious to us that this young lady has just gone missing, too, especially if she doesn’t know her way around.”

  “What do you think happened to the rest of the crew? And why do you think my fiancée has gone missing?” Eban arched an eyebrow menacingly at the Detective Sergeant.

  “That’s what we’re trying to establish, Mr. Gal. Congratulations on your engagement, by the way,” Farache interjected calmly.

  “So how did you know about me surviving and how did you know about Amaranda?” Eban ignored his comment.

  “We’re not at liberty to reveal our sources at this stage.” Blum pressed a few keys impatiently and pocketed his notebook.

  “We need to make more enquiries. Could you just explain to us a few points, Mr. Gal?” Farache smiled, but Blum huffed again. “I get that Amaranda—does she have a surname, by the way?”

  “No.”

  “Ah, OK. Now I get that Amaranda saved you, but weren’t there other people on the island who could have saved any of the other sailors?”

  “No. They were all on the other island. A causeway linked the main island to a tiny outcrop of jagged rocks. Amaranda was the only one on the rocks at that time. She probably only managed to save me because I was nearest to her, I imagine.” Eban was already fed up of having to explain the situation, this was the second time he had had to tell the story in as many days.