Pearced

by Ryder, H

  "Tharie, you wouldn't believe what we found in there....." Walking but not really looking forward, he stops dead when he sees who I’m talking to. "Dad?" And he just stares in disbelief for a moment. For another second they both stand motionless staring, then the spell breaks, and I have to step aside swiftly, Daniel runs over and they hug each other never letting go for what seems like ages.

  "What happened?" Daniel looks at his Dads face taking it all in. "Never mind, stories can wait." He looks around for the others, "let’s get them out of here," he looks back at his Dad, “I need tea.”

  I don't need to ask, I walk to the office doorway following a surprising familiar whiff of Chanel no.5, and there I see a well groomed, slim, middle aged woman. She's sitting in what is a basic but well-appointed kitchen, a huge cream tin wartime enamelled teapot, with green edging, standing on the table, and an equally huge copper kettle on the stove whistling away. She looks up at me past everyone else she’s clearly met already "tea dear?"

  "Definitely." I say to Daniels Mum.

  She is smaller than I’d imagined, a petite frame, wearing ironed authentic jeans (oh god, I try not to think about it), and little deck pumps. A blue and white stripped Bretton, and a gold rope chain around her neck. She has Daniels eyes and smile. Wearing Chanel diamond earrings which looks perfect down here in this hole in the earth, I immediately like her style, but there’s something about her. Something ugly. Something in her smile that's not real, I begin to feel the first prickle of a rash and I need tea now. An edge. That's it, a hard edge.

  "I thought you were in Florida?" I hear Kurt ask coming back into the room with his strong arm wrapped firmly across his Dads shoulders.

  "That's code dear,” she tells him like a child, “we haven't had family living there in twenty years.” She rolls her eyes, “boys, they just never listen, which as it turns out works well for us.” She looks over at her husband, and they all giggle about that. Clearly she’s told them hundreds of times. She returns my gaze, tilts her head a little, forces a smile and doesn't blink once. I feel like she's just taken a stroll inside my head, found nothing at all of interest, complained it needs dusting with a swipe of a finger over a surface, and left in a huff. Where's that tea?

  “My name's Barbara by the way.” She finally tells me. You know mine, I'm thinking, it's written on the door that says 'keep out' up in my head.

  The room is sparse, a fold down bed at one end, a few lights, a fridge and sink some clothes hang in a little cupboard with no door. "We heard a spot of trouble might be coming, we have a friend at local police station and…” She notices the look on my face, “They’re not all bad down there.” She explains impatiently. I won’t take her word for that naturally. “He told us we should probably keep our holiday short, so we came down here.” She gestures around the room with bony tanned fingers, very large rings spin loosely around on them, the heavy stones clink together as she moves, in a demonstration of extreme wealth. “It's got everything we need for a few days but then we start running out of fresh water and start having to boil it."

  Graham makes a face, "boiled water is nasty except if you’re making tea!"

  I have to agree.

  “Or we drink wine!” She adds, smiling at her husband.

  "I’d need a large glass of red, full bodied, to get me into that rusty old makeshift lift.” Offers Kurt, pulling Liza close, so his Mum can clearly see to back off.

  “Is that what it is?” Liza asks alarmed.

  “Looks dodgy to me." Says Nigel. I have to agree with the professor about that, and if I wore spectacles, I'd be tempted to clean them right about now.

  "It's the only way back out if we can't get through the house." Says Daniels Mum. My blood sinks to my feet at hearing this.

  "Babs, let’s go honey," Graham offers a hand to his wife she stands and he gives her a peck in the cheek.

  "Let's drink our tea first my love, it’s all ready." So that's exactly what we do, in china cups with saucers little fingers extended in mock amusement. The tea tastes incredible like the cup you relish having been in LA for a few days, where you can't get a good cup anywhere for love nor money! And the ginger nuts were being passed around too. Like a family camping trip, nobody asking questions just a hushed sense that despite what has happened everyone important is here and OK. We all just accept the situation and carry on in true British style.

  "I’d like to watch the sunrise," I say, "anyone with me?" Cheers all round.

  "I like her," Barbara tells Daniel, knowing I can hear, “she’s not like…” looking at me up and down, is that rude? “Like your usual…type.” Is that a criticism? “She’s….outdoorsy and very loud.”

  Moi?

  Message received, I’m not good enough and likely money grabbing too, or is that too cliché?

  “I like it,” he tells her looking lovingly at me.

  “I can tell dear.” She brushes some hair from his face in an overly motherly way, and he flinches away, “does she ever….” And in a whisper…”Brush her hair?” What! Mothers!

  Bloodygoddamit! What is it about hair with them? But she continues, “but, expect that can be remedied…a trip to Martha's salon…perhaps?” She is now thinking out loud, does she know I can hear her? “And some lipstick too surely.”

  Merde!

  “But, I er…like her.” Her tone is one of distaste, Daniel doesn’t notice it, or if he does, he's ignoring it for my sake.

  He pauses wondering whether, like everyone who has a Mum, he should say something? Decides it’s not the time, like we all do, and lets her think it's OK. “Me too," he whispers, and I hear that too.

  Bon. Pomme frites and mange tout. And that my friends, is all the French I know, my map reading is better.

  We grab our things and I lead us up the steps, because I only have one speed, like Harry, its go or stop, so off I go. We stop several times on the way up to rest, we all have different levels of fitness but no one gets left behind and we start singing some Barbara Streisand songs to help us on our way, and the acoustics, I’d have to agree, are great.

  Nearing the summit there’s a welcoming feint glow of light, I can hear someone in the house. I stop and raise a flat hand so Stan who's behind me can get his gun out. I saw this little move watching crime drama, and that genre has proved very useful on this trip, I'm sure you'd agree? I mean, where would we be now if I watched cake baking programmes?

  Passing me in the threshold of the anteroom off the kitchen he steps out through the wedged door just as two figures come into the kitchen. We hear voices, he has told us to stay behind in the dark so if there's any trouble he will be alone. He peers around to check them out and his hand comes off his gun and it remains holstered. "Come up its OK." He tells us, his frame collapses in a relaxed stance, and he exhales.

  As we climb the last steps and come out thankfully into air and the gleaming dark blue of before dawn. What we see is a complete surprise, (really?), and what we smell makes our hungry mouths water. “Martini? Shaken or stirred?” Asks Pete smiling, as she expertly skewers olives and tiny onions on cocktail sticks. Standing at the counter in the kitchen, wearing a Missoni bikini and J brand jeans. Her huge Tom Ford sunglasses on top of her head, he hair in a shiny brushed pony. I am so happy to see her.

  “What?” Is all I can manage, I’m a woman of many words clearly.

  James is making tea and breakfast, Pete doesn’t cook of course, she has a maid at home for that, and there are two police officers sitting comfortably in the living room sipping tea. “They've been whispering to themselves.” She tells us conspiratorially, “in Spanish, thinking we can't hear and hoping we don't understand.”

  “And?” I ask her.

  “They're expecting company, to meet them here.” Sounds like it's going to be another long day. Pete translates their dialogue, wincing at the language, and sending me a warning glance into the bargain. Apparently they like skinny women! Nothing would surprise me now, and I hug my friend, so glad she is here.
And whilst we chat about her surprise few days retreat away with a hot boy, screams of laughter emanate from behind us as James is reunited with his parents, deep joy all round. Pete pulls on a hoodie in response to further lewd comments from the other room, and passes me a glass of dark red wine, it's just the ticket.

  “Pete, what are you doing here?” I hug her tiny frame again, happy to smell civilisation in her perfume. She passes me a plate with some sour cream filled grilled potato skins and houloumi sticks with breadcrumbs. As I chew, I’m so happy with a link to real life, and of course it's the taste of civilisation, I increase the intensity of my interrogation, with a crooked eyebrow raising and a stern look.

  “Jimmy and I fancied a weekend away as you well know, and….well…I couldn’t say no to the promised mystery tour could I?” She winks at James and he returns the gesture, such happiness in his face. She whispers close to my ear, “My knees can't take much more!” Happy for you?

  James grabs her around the waist and pulls her close, “we fancied a few days in the sun, and heard it was a family affair.”

  He glances conspiratorially at Stan, he has engineered this little get together? He kisses Pete on the head, she’s clearly smitten by him, it’s great to see her happy. “Of course I didn’t realise just what kind of ‘family’ vacation it would turn out to be, Mum and Dad, blimey.”

  Indeed.

  “And your company having breakfast in there?” He nods his head to the living room, “there's something off about those two Tharie.” Their uniforms aren't ironed, I’d have to agree.

  "They found three undesirables wandering out in the dessert,” James tells us, “they've been looking for two of them for days regarding a theft of an artefact and a diary from an old lady's house,” old ladies eh? Don't these people draw a line? “Picked them up, locked them up,” James tells us casually like this is just another day in paradise. We go into the front room to join the guests, James continues his tale, “they told an incredible story about being kept prisoner and being tied up.” He laughs, sipping his whiskey. You have no idea.

  One of the officers takes over the story, “but we know Pearce's and we know that must be the lie so after we put them the jail we come to check on here.” He eyes us leerily, and an uncomfortable atmosphere begins to bloom. His broken accent easier to follow than my Spanish, “best cup of tea in region.” He salutes the room full of gawping faces with his cup, and saucer. They chat in Spanish to each other under their breaths, Pete listens intently, her expression changing, she shoots a look at James, he picks up on her silent warning. “Hey Mr Graham, Bab's, how you doin”? The older officer asks, clearly he watches too much American TV, like we all do.

  "We're fine Carlos, just having the family over for the weekend." Says Graham and smiles a wide friendly smile as best he can. Daniel has a smile like it, he uses it when he's trying to converse with someone fit for a straitjacket.

  “Play ‘trivial pursuit’.” Barbara adds, “drink some wine, you know?” The atmosphere of a feeling of discomfort spreads through the air like smoke, we can all smell it now, my own heckles are up. He stands and hands his cup to Pete with a lecherous wink, she puts it down immediately, she doesn’t clear up after anyone, including herself, she has a maid for that too.

  ”Well, storms brewin' so best getin' back to town,” says Carlos, clearly another fan of old cowboy movies his Spanish accent makes it sound funny, “come on boy, your turn to drive.” The boy looks instantly happy about that, clearly, he's not usually allowed behind the wheel, he's missed a button on his shirt, he really shouldn't be allowed to drive should he? Grabbing his hat with sweat stained band, they head out, does nobody here bathe or do any laundry? They wave goodbye over their shoulders, Carlos lights a cigarette pausing briefly to shade the flame from the wind, glancing over his shoulder at the house behind him. They get in the dirty car and they drive off in a puff of exhaust or badly burned oil. It’s to do with the colour of the smoke, but I can’t recall...

  “We're in trouble,” Pete says with a grim look on her face. I know that look, it's when someone's got the same shoes as her at a 'do'.

  “Yes, let’s get out of here,” from Liza, she understood too of course, and she’s a serious as a travers form C to E into a counter canter...which if you don’t' know dressage, is serious, quite serious indeed.

  Nigel has decided his glasses are already clean and don't need any further attention. Graham looks over at Barbara nodding, “grab provisions everyone, we've got to get out of here.”

  The wind outside is speeding rapidly and loose dry leaves and twigs are being tossed and swirled around. A hurricane? Well used to packing our backpacks we go into survival mode, the tea is fresh so I fill flasks again. I grab fruit and bread, bottles of water, chocolate fingers and KitKats. I share the weight by distributing the water between all of us, grab even more chocolate bars and stuff them in my pack.

  “The weather, it will get worse?” Adds Liza, but it’s not the brewing storm she’s talking about. She motions to the fast retreating cloud of dust, “they’re expecting company” she says, and suddenly not moving away from us any-more, the cloud of rapidly increasing dust grows closer, they're coming. As I look out of the front windows, a fast moving convoy of three trucks heads back our direction, surrounded by a swirling mass of disturbed dust. Carlos and the boy in the lead vehicle, teeth exposed in an unfriendly expression, the binoculars in my hand, and now I’m suddenly hoping I’ve packed enough tea.

  “They're back, come now!! Into the cave,” says Graham, Stan tosses him the spare gun from Emilio, fully loaded and checked of course, and Graham stuffs it into his waistband like it’s nothing unusual to handle a weapon. I shudder, because this can only mean one thing, back down there… Stan takes up the rear and shuts the kitchen door firmly behind us, the dim light fails to make connections with the mirrors to light the space “they don't know about this entrance I hope?” He asks.

  “Where did they think we'd come from when we appeared just now, the garden?” I ask. Bloody hell, I’m glad evil is also stupid, in this case.

  “They didn’t ask, I didn’t say,” James answers, “we used to play together as kids round here, me and Carlos's son Bobby.” He's wafting Pete along gently with a firm hand on her back, “trying to find the legendary mine, we never did of course.” Said James, herding Pete into the basement, she'd be happier having a bikini wax, but we can't always have what we want can we?

  “Shush,” hisses Stan, “they're in the house already.” Bloody hell again.

  Quietly but quickly we make our way down the steps, once more my legs are still recovering from the climb up and feel a little weak. Above us we can hear angry voices, furniture crashing about and a couple of shots fired. “They’re pissed off.” I whisper to Daniel. He nods at me looking strangely amused, what am I whispering for? They're making a racket up there.

  “Just keep moving, they might be able to guess where we went.” Stan caches us up a little out of breath, and answering an unspoken question for all of us. He says “I was locking the metal bulkhead door.” Naturally. “There's a slider on our side, like it was built to keep intruders out, I was just making sure it would.” Stan gathers his momentum and we travel down together.

  “Clank!!!” We all hear it, metal on metal loud bash from above, “they found the door and they're trying to get through it.” Says Barbara, “it's a sturdy door, salvaged from the submarine 'Enterprise', it should keep them occupied for a while.” She seems amused by the story, expect it’s her way of coping, also she spins her lose diamond rings around her fingers in agitation. Down, down we go, our torches still glowing strongly but were not sightseeing this time, we journey down with a purpose, to save ourselves. Gripping tightly to the stiff rope handrail where we can, it too is slippery from the damp and dripping water.

  “Tharie?” Daniel grabs my arm and looks at me, “you OK?” His voice is tender and sincere.

  “Too much to process to be scared Daniel, far too much
noise.” I jab my head with my finger wincing, Daniel kisses me softly on the lips, we're holding up the entire line since we're in front, but he either doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care. I instantly feel better, refreshed even like I’ve been given quick release energy, because his lips pure unrefined sugar in that single moment.

  I am quiet, and taking his hand gratefully I lead him down, “come on, not far now.” I say.

  And patting the flask sitting on the top of my bag, I continue on.

  Bloody hell, did I say that already?

  Chapter thirty-six, Tuesday:5thnovember2013 the journey

  Unnoticed the first time, a rivulet of dripping water runs close to the side of the cavern we stand in, and disappears through the rock where it's cracked in the far corner. It’s like a white noise and the theme tune to this section of our journey. It gets in my head, it has a tone and rhythm, my headache is building. I am gripping Daniels arm quite hard, I ask to stop for a drink, we rest a while and I sip noisily from my flask, trying to stem the source of the pain that’s building there.

  “Headache babes?” Pete strokes my hair, it helps, I’m selfishly glad she’s here, of course I’d rather we were all at home sipping tea and safe from rampaging hoards of thugs, but you can't always have it your own way, can you? Above and behind us we hear faint and muffled noises, the top of the stairs is alive with banging and shouting, it doesn’t help. I drink greedily from my supply, they are still trying to get through. Bang! I jump up and spin round, Daniel catches me in his arms, warm and tight around my frame, I feel safe.

  He kisses my hair as he hums a tune, what is that? Placebo I think, I turn and kiss him gently on the lips, soft and inviting, suddenly I feel better, He knows what I need. He whispers “thank you” to Pete, they’re working together to make me feel safe, I love them both for that.