by Loui Downing
Acknowledgement
A personal thanks to my wife Deborah for pushing me to achieve the impossible, you are my soul mate, my loving wife and a caring individual
Thanks to amazon self-publications for publishing my work to a wider audience
Most of all thanks to you for purchasing this novel, I really hope you enjoy it
For upcoming novels, stories and competitions please visit my Facebook page ‘Loui Downing Author Page’ and visit Amazon Kindle Store for more titles
Other Published work - Personification Series (Children’s books)
Flaming Denby the Dragon and William the Worm
Little Whistle
The Stuttery Spider & The Cruel Food Chain
Violet the Vampire
Prologue
“A gateway to one’s mind is held by the suppressing factors the beholder forms.
An opening bud gives light and opportunity. To close might trap, to open will divulge, to view is beauty.
Illustrate your mind to reveal all and share closely, as not all of those in knowledge will seek to protect”, said the Gangloi; scuttling off into the night.
CHAPTER ONE
2015
A Scarecrow’s Distraction
A package arrived at number 18 West Hignew street, Glasgow. George Mann opened the hatch to the mail compartment, only to be taken aback. "Cindy…come teak’ a look at this" requested George in a puzzled undertone. Cindy opened the package that looked fragile, taking extra care on unwrapping. George recognised what it was and took the package off his wife.
“It’s ok dear, I think I know what this is I will open it later” said George; his heart racing.
“Why don’t you open in now” snapped Cindy.
“Its business things, forms you know that old nonsense” invented George. Cindy walked away with a confused but accepted expression. Cindy has always opened George’s mail in the past, but not on this occasion. George placed the package underneath the stairs in a cupboard and sat down, opening the newspaper at the Scottish football results.
“Arh I see the green and white are doin’ neet te bad!” said George, trying to take the suspicion away from him. Cindy replied with a half grunt as she rolled her eyes elegantly. Cindy sighed gleefully and returned to the kitchen where she began sorting the dinner for later as her parents are coming over, Henry and Mavis Straw.
The wind blustered against the house sweeping leaves along with it that swirled, licking the open window on the top bedroom where Jack their son was sleeping quietly in his cot. His parents love him more than the world itself. George often feels a warm tingling sensation of happiness for such a wonderful blessing that is Jack to create a home that they have both been longing for.
The cot rocked as the stormy weather outside clattered against the terrace hurling tree roots from the ground, which were setting off car alarms frantically, but faintly heard.
“Its gettin’ a bit nippy outside by the looks of things” said George.
“I know I sure hope mum wraps up” said Cindy whilst gazing out of the kitchen window, her thoughts gliding away with the light snow that had started to form.
“Mavis isn’t bringing one of her homemade haggises is she? I can’t stand them” declared George ungracefully. There was a covering cough coming from the porch, when George was suddenly surprised and leapt from his armchair to hear Mavis shouting.
“Ello my dear, hoow the devil are you?” said Mavis, delighted to see her son-in-law and her daughter that they haven’t seen in a while, not since the move from St Andrew’s Way.
“How was the trip?” bellowed Cindy from the kitchen.
“Yeah, it was fine my dear, a little bit dodgy on the road but nothing Henry can’t handle” assured Mavis as she removed her coat. Henry up until now had remained conceited looking into the cupboards with interest and then retracting to the conversation.
“Hi petal, nice to see you again” said Henry with a warming smile.
“Thanks dad, yes it has been a long time, thought we would never get to meet up” replied Cindy in thought of the long haul of moving their belongings from their small cottage near the cost around three months prior.
“Whisky Henry” said George from the lounge.
“Oh yes, might as well seen as it’s the festive season” exclaimed Henry, his cheeks red and nose all runny from the icy conditions outside. Mavis entered the kitchen as Henry entered the lounge area to meet George; they began chatting about politics and the usual discussions that Cindy finds painstakingly grinding.
“So…where is the master of the house?” whispered Mavis.
“He’s sleeping but we can go and see him later” replied Cindy, removing her oven mittens.
“I bet he’s adorable” said Mavis under her breath, although Cindy answered which surprised her.
“Yeah, he really has changed our lives mum, I really do feel so happy” Cindy said as Mavis hugged her side-on. Mavis had doubts about George as he was known to be a boisterous in his youth; even though her daughter has said a million times he’s a changed man, she remains stubborn to this day.
“Right, come on let’s check on the food, I’ve brought your favorite home-grown nips and tats that you like” said Mavis eagerly, patting Cindy’s stomach when it rumbled.
Cindy started to check on the bubbling pans and the smell of homemade haggis. The room was filled with steam and it was a while before Cindy could make out where things were in the kitchen.
“Do you want any help my dear?” enquired Mavis, interfering more than anything.
“No thanks mum it’s nearly all done now, help yourself to another brandy or anything?” said Cindy; knowing it was her mother’s favorite drink. Cindy began placing in nips and tats that her mother mentioned on a baking tray.
“I shouldn’t really, but I suppose one won’t hurt anyone” said Mavis excitedly. Cindy poured her mother the brandy and began serving the dinner on to the beautifully decorated table, covered with crackers, chestnuts, wine and even party hats. Cindy poured herself another chardonnay and evenly distributed the food to the designated plates.
“Ready everyone” said Cindy with an element of achievement usually something goes wrong or isn’t cooked enough. Suddenly Cindy realised as if she had been jolted with electricity that she had left the potatoes on too long, and returned to the cooker where she switched off all the hobs simultaneously in a quick but splashy manner. George entered the room alongside Mavis and Henry and they commented on what a delightful sight.
They ate and drank into the night; even Mavis’ cheeks had turned a rosy red. They all sat and talked for around half an hour topping up each other’s wine glasses as they laughed and ate until they could no longer move. If only Jack was old enough to enjoy the festivities thought Cindy, instead he was tucked nicely in one of Mavis’ knitted throws in his cot, dreaming a fantastic dream of toys and bright colours.
The light snow now started to thicken and settle on the cold Scottish street and distant hilltops. The Christmas lights created a sense of mystery against the approaching fog that bellowed from the distance; as though it were waiting to pounce on the streets below. 10:27pm as Cindy eyed her grandfather’s pocket watch he gave her as a child.
“I’m not letting you drive back” said Cindy peering from the top bedroom lounge net curtain noticing the opposite neighbour looking too.
“Oh don’t be silly we’ll be alright” said Mavis clutching her glass of brandy that she swore she was going to cut down on.
“Don’t worry, stay over, there’s a spare room and we can drink some more, help you sleep” suggested George to everyone. After a short pause that seemed like an eternity, or maybe it was the whisky thought George, they agreed.
“Ok then” said He
nry reluctantly.
“She’ll be fine” said Mavis placing one hand on George’s leg for assurance “We will get back as soon as possible tomorrow” added Mavis.
Henry smiled grudgingly and looked at Mavis with a stern look that was something to be desired.
“Are you ok?” asked George to Henry.
“Yes, he’s just worried about Angelica, she has been in an accident…her car…well…” said Mavis drifting off.
“Well…is she ok” said Cindy with a jerking importance as she rushed down the uncarpeted staircase and into the lounge.
‘She’s fine, it’s not her that’s the problem’ said Mavis regretting saying anything by this point.
“Did she?” enquired George well aware of Angelica’s persona.
“I’m afraid so George” said Henry gingerly placing an arm around the sobbing Mavis struggling to grasp her handkerchief.
A clattering of the baby monitor increased it to full red capacity with a loud buzz as if something had crashed into the house. George looked to Henry and vice versa as they all pondered for a few moments, wondering if it was their imagination until Henry finally spoke.
“We best go and check that out, make sure Jacks ok”. George nodded as they both crept up the stairs thoughts running wild on what they were about to encounter. George’s heart rate was pounding so fast that it is the only thing he could hear. The lights were out on the landing, although the moon was casting a guiding light from the window of Jacks room. As the two men walked into the spare bedroom, they felt a sigh of relief as it was only Tom their cat clambering through the open window that was off its hook.
“That explains the bang then I guess” said Henry with relief.
George picked up Tom and walked back downstairs; the cat let out a sorry cry and scuttled off into the kitchen.
“Rascal cat that’s all” announced George as they both entered the room. The atmosphere seemed somewhat dense and eerie. Cindy looked at George and he could tell something was the matter as she was weeping from her eyes slightly and shaking, but George thought it might be about his sister.
“We thought you went outside? That’s why…why…we” stuttered Cindy.
“What Cindy, what is the matter?” replied George, tempers were raised now and George felt the same anxiety as previously in the bedroom.
“If you are here, then who is that?” answered Cindy.
Mavis was clutching her mouth and sat curled up slightly on the sofa in the fetal position, looking away from everyone.
“What? What are you talking about Cindy” said George with a puzzling look on his face.
Cindy swung open the lounge curtains just as the moon light shone in which made George squint and turn away, only to return and look out of the window.
There standing on the pavement directly in front of their street was a tall man, black clothes, a hat and a general smart appearance. George thought to himself that he recognises the man standing before him. It hit George as soon as the moon lit up the face of the man outside. George looked back after gathering his thoughts only to be faced with a deserted street with only the streetlights flickering against the swarming fog.
‘Taxi’ hailed the short silhouette beaming off the sidewalk. It was a man with a deep eastern American accent. Rupert Marvel, one of the wealthiest Americans to-date owning the prestigious ARS (Augmented Reality Inc) building that is recognisable to almost every American. The office block took up around half a street and stretched the skyline for around three miles. There is local debate on whether the building is an eyesore or architectural genius. Rupert was on his way to a conference in Manhattan regarding the regime of effective resources on his latest proposals to the state regarding glide boards. The clock tower situated a block away from the ARS building gleamed as Rupert raised an arm to form the time, it was 5:12pm, just enough time he thought to drop off the birthday present for Kerry his wife of 13 years.
Kerry was a quiet woman with a middle class upbringing, although she did like to indulge on occasions when necessary.
‘Two bunches of your pink rose please’ spoke the older women dressed in a laced overcoat and purple scarf.
‘These have been a favourite just lately’ replied Kerry with an intriguing smile that warmed the customer.
‘It’s my daughter’s baby shower so I thought I would surprise her’ said the women scurrying for money in her purse whilst balancing many purchases earlier in the afternoon.
‘I’m sure she will love them’ said Kerry reassuringly, remembering all her gifts when Francesca was born.
The women exchanged money for goods and the old lady walked off as Kerry began to close the florist for the night. She was so over worked, she was thinking of taking a holiday, but she had Christmas orders so she felt obliged along with guilt to carry on working. The cold wind hit Kerry taking her breath around the block as she gasped as she reached for the leaver to close the shutters to the shop just as the clock ticked dead on 5:30pm.
Kerry heard a voice as she glided back to the till in a state of unconscious tiredness as she recalled this voice.
‘Kerry…. Kerry…. Happy…’ declared Rupert in a fit of excitement stopping mid-sentence once he clocked eyes with her. Kerry saw a man at the shutters clutching a bunch of very expensive flowers and some kind of envelope. She signified that she would lock up in the form of a hand gesture and left the shop via the side entrance to the left of the shop, next to Raymond’s jewellery, one of the finest in Manhattan. Kerry and Rupert greeted each other with a leap into Rupert’s arms to form a hug with Kerry as she spun air born and legs swirling off the ground.
‘Happy birthday Kerry’ said Rupert in a proud way.
‘You really shouldn’t have…your so kind to me…I love you so much Rupert come here’ Kerry announced with a slight tear unveiling from the corner of her right eye, which was swiftly wiped away before Rupert could see, along with a snuffle from the nostril. She was so delighted to see Rupert, after all the long hours he had been doing she felt distance from him and rejection, which all vanished in an instant. Kerry opened the envelope that Rupert passed to her not taking her eyes off him for one second.
‘That is lovely Rupert, honestly you do spoil me’ said Kerry in her usual soft voice that Rupert loved. The two linked arm in arm as they walked down the street. Rupert realised he had to be at his meeting for 6:00pm that evening, and to Kerry’s distaste Rupert left into the night hailing down a yellow taxi and ascending off into the night, he never did like to use the technology that he ironically spends his life devoting to, as he went to his meeting realising what he had placed in Kerry’s pocket, and smiled.
Kerry, feeling loved was now suddenly alone. She reached for her arm and lifted up her sleeve where her communication device was located and stated ‘Taxi from Manhattan to New York Central’. The device bleeped and she seemed to press a button. Within a few minutes later a taxi halted jeeringly at her feet catching the edge of a puddle as the car braked. Kerry got into the taxi where a belt automatically swept across her and locked into place. The car glided off down the dimly lit empty street, where only faint noises of families enjoying their feasts. Kerry looked out of the steamed window pane of the taxi wiping away the condensation to focus on the something, as her journey would take a while.
It was then that Kerry started thinking about her father Frankie who was not coping so well after her grandmother Elizabeth and her sudden death. Frankie had also his father Jim to attend to after being declared unable to look after himself. Frankie had no option due to financial difficulties and his job, which is an intelligence officer for the Government, leaving no option but to place his father in a home where he like, Oxford, England. All this was just over three months previously and it was then that it struck her; maybe she should call, write to him or even fly back to England to see him. Once Kerry married Rupert she felt some kind of inner hatred towards Rupert, not intentionally it was just that she was very close to her parent
s and Rupert wanted her to move to America to start a new life. A better life, one with no poverty, pain and subject to violence, as her father regularly subjected to bringing his problems home for the family to endure obviously passed down from his father’s side.
Something was prodding Kerry in the lower abdominal region of her stomach. She scuffled around in her trouser pockets, finding nothing. She then realised it was in her long silky overcoat and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper that had sharp edges. The pain in her stomach vanished as she tore open the envelope and proceeded in unveiling its contents. The long slips contained one word that seemed to elevate her eyes as she beamed at the slips. It was there in black and white, England.
Regardless of the pain that her father had caused her she still loved both Frankie and her grandfather Jim, loving them dearly and wishing nothing better than for them to have a peaceful life after all the troubles they have been through. Kerry recalled Jim’s 80th birthday seven years ago, him dressed in a party hat, all smiles laughing and joking as he did when he was all so fit and healthy. She had been toying on the thought for a while and realised that life is so precious and that in the blink of an eye your whole world can change.
‘It is going to get brighter by the end of the week folks with expected showers heading north and the band of warm weather coming your way, so put away your umbrellas…. coming next is our special guests Amon Red Stars, the new and upcoming boy band from the west midlands.’ said the local presenter of the Oxfordshire radio station.
The old man sitting in his wheelchair gazing out upon the world from the conservatory listening to the radio looked saddened, whether this was due to his position in life, pain, the longing to see his wife and his children remained uncertain. For one thing the old man was kind to the workers of the home and everyone seemed to love his company and jokes, even if they were incredibly unfunny and completely out of context.