by A. M. Clarke
The food had barely made it to the plate before two hungry and happy mouths descended the stairs at break neck speed and landed at the kitchen table. They chattered about their day and how they were going to brag at school the next day, how while the rest of them were stuck in a horrible class room, that they were out in the park and having a blast, skipping school with their cool mom. They ate every bit, and even managed to wipe up spaghetti sauce with bread and butter. Washing down their delicious dinner with the cold milk, they asked if it was ok to watch telly before bedtime. Getting what they wanted, the girls shouted yippee before skipping down the hall to the sitting room. Lucy poured herself a glass of wine and sat at the table. She checked her watch, 6.45pm, plenty of time she thought to herself, relax and enjoy.
. . . . .
Clara was on cloud nine, they had a day off school, a yummy dinner, (her favourite) allowed to watch telly before bed and best of all, Mum was her old self. What a great day. She couldn’t wait to put it in her journal. She looked over at Laurie who was lost in the colours and sounds of the cartoon. Scooby and Shaggy were up to their old tricks, fighting ghosts when they weren’t hiding from them She was too old for cartoons but Laurie liked them, and she was just happy to sit and let her watch what she wanted. Laurie was just a kid after all and didn’t understand what was happening with their mum. She didn’t really know either, but she knew that mum was very unhappy but was now better, especially since that new friend turned up, and that was all that mattered. Clara looked over again at Laurie and saw that her head was bobbing up and down, trying to stay awake.
‘Mum, Laurie is falling asleep.’
‘Ok love, Ill be right in.’ as she turned off the TV, she heard Laurie mumble, ‘I was watching that.’ Laughing at her little sister, Clara pulled off her shoes and socks, trying to help her mum.
‘Oh thanks Clara, that’s a big help, Ill run her upstairs and put her straight to bed. She’s out for the count, bless her. Aren’t you going to stay up a little longer?’
‘No, I want to write in my journal, if that’s alright?’
‘Off course it is pet, Ill come in later on and tuck you in, ok?’
‘Sure thing mom, I’m just going to get a drink of water.’ As her mum carried Laurie upstairs, Clara went to the kitchen for her drink. She saw that the dishes were still on the table and decided to wash them as a surprise. She gathered all the dishes and ran hot water with a big splash of cleaning liquid. As the bubbles gathered and rose in the water, Clara picked up the milk glasses first. She was just about to plunge them into the sink when she noticed the powdery grains in the bottom of the glass, so she picked up the other one and saw the same powder in that one too. Her mum’s milk glass was still on the table but there were no grains in that one. An uneasy feeling pushed up from her tummy, but she finished off the dishes before heading up to ask her mother what the stuff was, and why it was only in their glasses. When she got to her sisters door, the soft voice of her mother singing a lullaby eased her funny tummy, and pushed the door in quietly so as not to waken Laurie. What she saw not only made her stomach jump up in her throat but also made her little heart stop in her chest. Her mother was kneeling on the bed over Laurie pushing a pillow down on her sister’s face. She turned and ran to her room; she went to her safe place, under the bed. She kept her old dollies and teddies there, the ones she pretended she was too old to play with. On nights when she thought she heard noises outside her window, she would creep under and cuddle them for comfort, all the time telling herself that she was comforting them.
Her mother’s footsteps were coming towards her room, and she pulled herself up into a ball. She had never been afraid of her mom before, but now she was more terrified than she ever was, even on those scary windy nights. Her door pushed open and she held her breath. Normally her mother whispered her name at this time of night because her sister was always asleep first, but not tonight, tonight she called out loud and clear.
‘Clara, where are you pet?’ then lowering her voice and mumbling, she said to herself, ‘she’s probably in the bathroom brushing her teeth.’ Her mother left and Clara dragged herself from under the bed and ran downstairs. First the sitting room, nowhere to hide, then the kitchen, nowhere their either. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as she thought. Mum might have been just fixing the pillow. ‘Yeah right, she was smothering her sister. Her sister who is now dead and she was next. Think Clara, think.’
The utility room was the only place left, and when she ran in the washing machines door was open with dirty towels thrown on the floor. She looked around and before her heart stopped completely, she climbed into the drum and pulled a towel in with her to cover herself. She pulled the door closed as much as she could and waited like a scared little animal hiding from the big bad hunter. Inside the machine, everything was muffled, except her heartbeat, which was so loud Harry Potters pet owl would hear it. For the first time on that horrible night, the tears started and her small body shook with fear for herself, and for her little sister who would never wake up again. Would never know the magical wonders of Hogwarts. Over the heaving tears and deafening pounding of her heart, she thought she heard her mother in the room, but she was too afraid to move or look. CLICK. She couldn’t believe it; her mum had pushed the door closed. Overhead she heard the gushing of water hitting the drawer and then the cold fingers of it hitting her. She manoeuvred herself into a better position and started banging on the door.
‘Mum, I’m here, please turn it off, please mum, I wont tell anyone about Laurie. MUM, MUM, I’m your little girl, please don’t kill me. PLEASE MUM PLEASE.’
Lucy bends down in front of the washing machine and looks in at her daughter getting wetter and wetter.
‘Don’t worry my love; you will be happy with God. He’s waiting for you and your sister. I have to move on with my life, and you and Laurie are no longer a part of that life. Now be a good girl and be quiet.’
Lucy walked out of her house and her old life for the last time.
Chapter Twenty One
The day had been languid and soothing. A much-needed respite that all three of them needed. Chequers was replete after his extended walk and a very generous brunch. Mike was full of savoury pleasures that a salty breakfast treat had satisfied. Stephen was just happy to have company that didn’t want his belly rubbed at every opportunity. They spent the rest of the day slumming around the house, listening to Stephen’s collection of vinyl records and watching old movies. In between walks of course. The time ran away on them and soon it was feeding time again. As Mike needed to get back to his sermon, they decided on dinner in the hotel first. Chequers was a regular and a very welcome visitor at the End, so three hungry hounds headed for dinner. Seated at their favourite table, Stephen and Mike browsed the menu, even though they knew and had tried every item on there. They both decided on the steak and onion rings and Chequers, after much thought opted for the pork chops and mash potatoes.
‘Everything all right guys?’ the waitress enquired.
‘Delicious as always, Joanne. No Gladys tonight?’
‘She never showed for her shift today. I was called in early to cover. Dessert for anyone?’ Vigorous headshakes spoke volumes.
‘Time I was off, thanks for the therapy. Chat to you tomorrow Stephen, and Chequers, as always a pleasure.’
‘Alright Mike. I think Ill check on Gladys. It’s not like her not to turn up. Good luck with the sermon.’
‘Come on pooch, let’s go.’ Outside, as the sky had predicted earlier, rain thundered down soaking anything that stood still too long. Jumping into the jeep, they travelled the short distance to Gladys’s house. There were dim lights within, but no signs of life. He waited, unsure what to do. Should he knock and if he did, what if Jim came to the door, what would he say? If he said he was worried about Gladys, would Jim take it the wrong way? He didn’t even know the guy. It might get her into trouble having a guy come round asking where she was. What the hell, he’d play it by ear.
‘Come on boy, I’m sure I can use you in some way, I can pretend that I nearly hit you and thought you might be theirs. Yea, that might fly. Well are you coming or not.’ Chequers didn’t need asking again, who knew what delights might be waiting behind the door. Stephen approached uncertainly, aware of how it might look to both of them, but hell he was here now. He rang the bell, waited and rang again. No answer. He could hear the bell inside so knew it was working. He tried knocking, hard, but still nothing. Hesitating, a little uneasily, he tried the doorknob and turned it. The door pushed open into a dim hallway, a small light beckoned from beyond. ‘Hello, anyone home? Hi there, it’s Stephen Powers. HELLO’. Silence, apart from their own anxious breathing. They moved down the hall, and Chequers started whining softly, ears pulled back and tail down. Stephen’s skin begins to pucker and crawl as he neared the light. The door was slightly ajar, he eased it open and saw the TV was on, and in front of that, a high backed chair. ’Jesus fucking Christ.’ The words fell out of his mouth without him realising, and Chequers continued to whine cos he knew something wasn’t right. He moved around in front of the chair, stunned and horrified at the sight of Jim. Two knitting needles protruding from his neck, like a hideous X. His eyes still open and gazing at the TV screen, the pool of black blood gathered around the chair legs. The metallic smell was nauseating and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed it when he first entered the house. Chequers had.
Dreading what he might find, he forced his legs up the stairs. Chequers ran ahead of him and into the bathroom. He barked only once but loud and sharp, alerting Stephen to that room. Gladys was in the bath, her pale body a stark difference to the dark bloody water she was lying in. A razor lay on the floor, blood on its edge. Poor Gladys, what the hell made her do something so awful, so deliberate, and so final. She was always so upbeat and frisky. Yea, frisky was the best way to describe her character. Why? Damn it. He backed out the door and retraced his steps to the front door. Dr Bells number was in his phones memory, and after a few rings, he answered. He was on a call at the other end of the island, at the gas explosion. Stephen explained that there was nothing he could do, and they arranged to meet in the morning. The Doc tutted, muttering about being under-paid for all this extra work, and hung up. For the second time in two days, he rang the mainland.
Chapter Twenty Two
Unfortunately, they had no police presence on the island. Government cutbacks meant rural stations had been closed, and the larger towns and cities had swallowed the smaller stations and their staff. Communities had to fend for themselves, and resort to their own means of protection. Text alerts had become very popular, where, if someone saw someone or something suspicious, they messaged times, descriptions and relevant areas of sightings. The alerts were very useful, except for visiting tourists who may have gotten lost and who were simply travelling slowly as to get their bearings. This had caused a few embarrassing moments, but all in all a good idea. Neighbour hood watch was another community scheme, which had also posed problematic. Lovers trysts for the faithful and not so faithful were a minefield of chance and luck. A sure fire way for the suspecting and not so suspecting spouses, to discover indiscretions of lust, that were meant solely for personal diaries and in-depth therapy.
For the youthful, the sneaking in and out of windows had become hazardous. Parents woken in the night, to be told their precious daughter, or studious son, had snuck out and were cavorting in the wood walk. One would imagine a small price to pay for a little security and peace of mind, but a surprising number of people had opted out of these helpful community schemes!
A story had been circulating for a while about an elderly man, who had been burgled twice. Both times on the evening, that he had collected his pension from the local post office. Two men, held him hostage and bullied, threatened and physically coerced the whereabouts of his money. Upon leaving on the second night, they promised the bloodied, bruised and terrified man, that they would see him again the following week, on payday. That night, he packed a few clothes and personal belongings, pumped the tyre on his old black Nelly, threw his life into the tattered wicker basket and set off. Leaving behind the land that his grandfather, father and he had worked, loved, and shed blood, sweat and tears over. The house that his grandmother and mother had, with very little, made a home, a home they and he had been proud of, a home he was leaving to soulless thugs. From the other side of the island, he cycled thirty miles in the dead of night, to seek safety and refuge in the nursing home. He relinquished his dignity, denounced his freedom and worst of all, and signed over his family heritage for the simple act of sleeping safe.
Although this had supposedly happened before Stephens’s time here, whether true or not, the issue was still the same and still as relevant. The island was a good and safe place, but not without the usual drunken fights and neighbour squabbles. They all knew it was a matter time before something happened and the police would be needed. However, no one would have believed just how badly.
Getting through to the police desk, he informed the sergeant on duty what he had discovered. With the weather so bad, it was impossible to get anyone over that night, but the sergeant promised as soon as it eased, someone would be there to deal with it. He also asked if Stephen could secure the premises overnight without contaminating anything. Doing as requested, he went back in and removed the keys from Gladys’s bag, which he found in the kitchen. It was distasteful going through her things, knowing she was lying dead in the bath, but it had to be done. Locking up the house him and Chequers climbed back in the jeep and went home.
Chapter Twenty Three
Vera was like an oversexed teenager waiting to go on a third date. Her pulse was racing and she was flushed with anticipation. She fluttered around the home waiting for Adams arrival. Checking on this and correcting that. Everything was as usual, running like clockwork, but she picked and picked at the smallest things.
The staff were aware of why she was behaving so strangely, and were all-laughing at her. Desperate, pathetic, middle-aged fool, just some of the comments the jealous, back-stabbers were whispering about her. She didn’t care, opportunities like Adam only happened on rare occasions and she wasn’t about to let this one slip past her.
She hovered at the reception desk and at 6.15; he strolled up the drive. He walked with confidence, self assured in his body and very aware of how good he looked.
‘Adam, I’m so glad I was here to welcome you, and delighted you came.’
‘How lovely to see you again Vera and might I be bold enough to say how beautiful you look.’
‘Well - - thank you Adam, that’s so nice of you to say. Now please come and meet everybody. Those who can are in the main dining room, and the other residents who can’t join us will be happy to talk with you in their rooms.’
‘Thank you Vera, I’m very hopeful that at least one of these wonderful old people will remember my uncle. My mother would be so happy to hear news of him. She hasn’t heard from him in some time and pride dictates that he should be the one to get in touch and of course, my mother has been too proud to chase after her brother. Now where are those meatballs I’ve been looking forward to all day?’
Vera played hostess like she had never done before, charming and interested. She allowed Adam carte blanch with the residents while she watched and waited for an opportune moment. That moment occurred when monopoly had finished with a petulant Mary, who claimed that she owned all the hotels and didn’t believe anyone who went to jail should receive monetary recompense.
‘Jail is where we keep the bad guys. Why would we give the fuckers money? Keep them locked up and throw away the bankers. That’s what we should do. ’
‘Come on Mary, you owe me, I let you have that hotel at cost. The penthouse is vacant, so let’s get fruity.’
‘You are a dirty old has been Ezra, one good push and your hip would give out.’
‘You know it, the hydrotherapy pool will be quiet tonight,
how about it Mary, those bubbles will really loosen you up, and, my hip works better with a bit of lubrication.’
‘All right Ezra lets see you in action. Come on George, Edna, what about it Charles. Everyone to the pool for a bit of after dinner fun.’ Mary led the march, slowly, walkers and canes, crutches and wheelchairs, down the hall and across to the recreation area. Followed closely by two of the helpers who didn’t look too happy at the sudden turn the evening had taken.
Vera couldn’t believe her luck, and moved in quickly for the kill.
‘They really are a great group; they must keep you on your toes.’ Adam laughingly said to her.
‘Did you get any useful information out of them?’
‘No, I’m afraid no one seems to remember my uncle. My mother must have it wrong. Still, I have had a lovely evening and I met you. That more than makes up for the disappointment.’
‘That’s so sweet of you. Can I interest you in a hot toddy, its turning very nasty out there?
‘I would love that; I’m not ready to call it a night yet.’
Vera led him to the kitchen and seated him at the counter while she prepared the tasty tipples. They chatted about generalities and after the effects of the toddies kicked in, they started to flirt. Gently at first, and then more blatantly. After her third toddy, Vera had enough Dutch courage to suggest going to an empty room in the resident’s wing. Adam accepted the invitation and followed her there. The rain lashed against the window as Vera aggressively launched herself at him.
Pulling the clothes from his firm body, she was like a rabid animal. Inflamed and ferocious in her desire, she was thrilled that Adam met her lust with equal intensity. Wild animals would have been taken aback at their behaviour, and half an hour later, they emerged from the room dishevelled but sated. Vera said a reluctant goodbye to him and went back to tidy the room so housekeeping wouldn’t notice in the morning. She waited for the residents to be in their rooms safe and left the night shift to it.