by Lee Monroe
Bobby gave me his most winning look and pawed my leg. ‘Dottie!’ I called. ‘Take the dog out, would you? He’s all over me.’
Dot appeared in the doorway. ‘Here, boy …’ She bent down and opened her arms out to embrace the dog, but he remained, indifferent, beside me.
‘Silly dog.’ She straightened up and walked over to look at my screen. ‘Ugh. History homework. Poor Jane.’ She put her arm around my shoulders, and I turned my face up to hers and smiled.
‘Your scratch has gone,’ she said, touching the place where it had been.
I put my hand up and felt only smooth skin.
‘Janey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.’
Not a ghost, I thought, calmly. But something just as unreal.
‘Anyway, Mum wants you to go with Dad to the shops before they shut. She’s run out of “ladies’ things”. He’s leaving right now.’
On cue, we both heard the sound of Dad starting the engine in his truck. I looked down at my combats and dolly jumper. ‘I need to change,’ I told Dot, shutting down the computer. ‘Tell Dad five minutes.’
‘You’re changing to go to the shops with Dad?’ Dot raised an eyebrow.
‘So? I can’t go out like this.’
Dot twirled maddeningly around the chair then abruptly stopped. ‘Put on a skirt. You might bump into you-know-who …’
Evan. I had almost forgotten about him. Boys are obviously like buses – just when you’ve given up waiting, two of them come round the corner.
‘Forget it,’ I told Dot as I walked towards the stairs. ‘And I don’t even have a skirt.’
‘Borrow one of Mother’s,’ my sister called as I climbed up to my bedroom. ‘She won’t mind …’
I huffed as I threw sweatshirts, shorts, jeans and leggings out of my drawers. It was true. I didn’t have a single item of feminine clothing. The only girly thing about me was my hair. Thick, dark and unfashionably curly. I studied my face in the wardrobe mirror. My eyes were OK, big and a dark grey-blue colour, but my skin was a nightmare. Pale and sickly. There was no hope for me.
‘Jane, hurry up,’ called Dad from outside. ‘What are you doing up there?’
Quickly I put on a little eyeliner I’d stolen from Mum once. It was an improvement, I realised as I checked out my eyes in the mirror. I rubbed in a dab of red lipstick to give my cheeks some colour. Then I ran my fingers through my hair, which at least was glossy. What do you think you’re doing? I asked myself. Evan can’t possibly be interested in you.
Still, I carefully chose my newest, dark, straight-legged jeans and a T-shirt that usually made me self-conscious because it was too tight over my chest, but today I somehow didn’t mind. I cast around the room to find something warm to put over it. My eyes fell on the poncho on my chair. I’d take it off if I saw Evan, I told myself. Even if it meant freezing to death.
Stop it. You’re not going to see him.
My dad tooted his horn loudly.
‘OK, OK.’ I moved towards the rumpled poncho and pulled it over my head. ‘I’m coming.’
I had the strangest feeling as I pulled it down, a feeling of foreboding. Out of the window, I could see my father waiting patiently by the truck. I smiled, trying to shrug off dark thoughts. I always loved going places with my dad. He’d turn on the radio and sing, and I’d always feign embarrassment. Secretly, though, I loved him singing as we drove. It made me feel safe, protected.
Dad looked up at my window and waved.
‘You look beautiful, Janey,’ he said. ‘Now hurry up or your mother will make both of our lives miserable.’
I grabbed my purse and ran down the stairs, foreboding gone.
Almost.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘Damn, this old thing is getting crankier every day,’ said Dad as the engine sputtered unhealthily on the road down to Bale. He changed gear, deafening us both with the noise.
‘You need a new one,’ I said, as he pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The truck swerved unhelpfully towards the side of the road and then swung out again.
‘Dad?’ I said, alarmed. ‘This feels dangerous.’
‘It’s fine.’ I wasn’t reassured. ‘It’s the cold weather lately. She’s telling me she’s had enough.’ We were coming to the bottom of the hill. Dad tried to get a station on the radio but it crackled unhelpfully and he gave up. I put my feet up on the dashboard and leaned back.
As I looked through my window, I saw the sky turning rapidly from bright to overcast. A huge black cloud appeared from nowhere and the light dimmed to near-darkness.
‘Great.’ Dad reached into the glove compartment for his glasses. ‘Can’t see a thing. Janey, can you … ?’
But a shape coming out of the patch of trees to the right diverted my attention. An animal, the biggest dog I had ever seen, hurtled powerfully into the road in front of us. As the animal sped past, it leaped.
A snarling head, teeth bared, the red of its angry gums visible. I saw its eyes, black as night, hateful. I dropped my feet from the dashboard.
‘Dad!’ I heard myself scream. ‘Stop!’
‘Jesus!’ I turned to see my father’s face ashen and frightened. ‘I can’t …’ With enormous effort he gripped the steering wheel and turned it to swerve out of the creature’s way, and the truck seemed to gain momentum, careering towards the wire fence holding back the mountain trees. Panicking, I put my hands to my eyes, unable to look, registering only that I had my seatbelt on. All I could hear was the buzzing of the engine and then the massive jolt as it drove into the fence and the low stone wall behind it. I kept my hands over my eyes, waiting for it to be over.
We had stopped moving, but the engine was going mad, humming maniacally like the most powerful chainsaw you’ve ever heard.
My heart still thumping, I took my hands from my eyes and turned to my father. He lay slumped over the wheel, his forehead streaked with blood. Not moving.
‘Dad?’ I gasped, moving cautiously in my seat. I didn’t seem to be hurt. Snapping out of my seatbelt, I scooched over to him, leaning forward to see if his eyes were open. They weren’t. I swallowed, feeling frightened tears coming.
Don’t panic, Jane, I told myself, but I had no idea what to do. I didn’t even own a mobile phone because I had no one to ring – but Dad did. I frantically dug around in the pockets of his coat – but nothing, he must have left it behind today. I closed my eyes, willing another car to come past and see us, but there was only silence. I knew very well that this stretch of road had no drive-throughs. It led up to our house and nothing else. Nobody would come up this far.
I let out a small moan and sat back, trying to think. I’d left the Girl Guides the week I’d joined, typically antisocial. If I’d stayed, I might have some clue about what to do in this kind of emergency.
Selfish idiot.
I wound down the window and let the freezing air calm me. I had a feeling, Girl Guides or not, that you were supposed to keep warm if you were in shock – but it felt like the right thing. Above me the dark clouds dispersed, revealing a full moon.
I stared at it, perfect and round up there in the sky, as though it would provide some vital inspiration. Then, knowing that I was wasting time, I shut my eyes, willing myself to be strong, to think.
Think, Jane.
And then there was just stillness, and I emptied my head of every other thought but what I wanted, really wanted. Help him. Help him. Help him. I chanted it in my mind, over and over.
In my head I saw my father on a trolley in the A&E in Hassock, rushing through corridors to where a doctor and two nurses were standing. And then the frantic administering of drugs, a heart monitor, the beeping of machines, someone shouting out orders, and a hand on my arm, rubbing it, a soft, female voice, talking to me.
‘Is he going to be OK?’
I opened my eyes, startling myself with the sound of my voice.
A woman in scrubs, with small, birdlike features, was smiling at me.
‘He’s going to be OK.’ She studied me. ‘Are you sure you weren’t hurt? I think we need to check you out.’
‘I thought he was …’ I stopped, relief making me shake.
‘He’s concussed and lost consciousness for a while and he’s got nasty head and neck injuries,’ said the nurse. ‘But you got him here quickly.’
‘How did I … ?’ I began. How had we got here? It didn’t make sense.
‘Never seen anything like it,’ she said, shining a thin torch into my eyes. ‘Your friend just walking in, carrying your dad in his arms. Quite the hero.’ She clicked off the light. ‘And you seem in good shape. You’re very lucky.’
‘My friend?’ Could this day get any more surreal?
‘He’s back in the visitors’ room,’ she said, picking up a clipboard and writing something down. ‘And he’s causing quite a stir.’ She winked at me. ‘Lucky girl.’
I smiled weakly. ‘I’ll be right back. If you could just tell me where the visitors’ room is?’
She pointed down the corridor. ‘Keep walking and first left.’
I walked slowly, unable to catch my breath. Who was I going to find in that room?
I knew only two boys, and one of them was technically a figment of my imagination.
As I rounded the corner I looked down at myself. My poncho, my jeans, my T-shirt were perfectly intact, even my green Converse were without a mark. I hadn’t got a scratch.
A large sign saying VISITORS’ ROOM sat above a glass door with a Venetian blind hanging behind it. I took hold of the handle and held my breath. Slowly I turned it and the door opened to reveal an almost-empty room. Empty but for a figure in a familiar dark coat, hunched in a seat, his long legs resting on a low table in front of him. His face looked paler than ever, but the sight of it, and his soft, green eyes regarding me where I stood, made me curiously calm again.
‘You helped us …’ I whispered, tears coming quietly. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome.’ He gave me a weak smile, keeping his arms wrapped around him, his hands lost in the folds of his coat. I moved to sit next to him, but he shook his head.
‘No … Jane,’ he said, his voice strained. ‘Now is not the time. I will explain this to you. I promise.’ I noticed he was trembling.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ I looked down, noticing the whole of his body seemed to be in spasm.
‘I … I’ll explain that, too …’ Luca’s voice juddered. ‘But you have to leave now, you understand. Go back to your father.’
‘But I …’ I took another step closer, reluctant to leave him like this.
‘Please leave,’ he said. And his tone was hard now, his eyes growing wide and aggressive. I stepped back, shocked, and Luca swallowed, speaking again with effort. ‘Believe me, this will be too much for you. Go.’
I nodded, turning back – and then I heard it. A sound, low and hoarse, behind me. I swallowed and ran through the door, shutting it firmly. Then, not wanting to hear what was happening inside, I walked quickly back to where I needed to be.
CHAPTER FIVE
Greek myths and legends, I’d studied them. I’d drawn the parallels with feelings and behaviour and all the dilemmas and challenges people face today. But elves and goblins, complicated labyrinthine worlds where dragons speak and quests are embarked on? I’d never taken them seriously. I knew that it was strange, given my alienation from a world full of social networks and fashion magazines and cliques, that I hadn’t lost myself in these worlds, loved them and believed in them – but I hadn’t. My dad always said I was born seeing black and white and nothing in between, but I didn’t think that was true. I guess deep down, I never dared believe that magic existed. Until the day Dad ended up in hospital.
I picked up the box of cereal I’d been staring at for five minutes and added it to my basket. I checked Mum’s list. Soap, dog food and a copy of the local newspaper.
I found the soap further along. Unperfumed. Typical of my mother.
Then I moved up the second aisle in our cramped little grocer’s, picking up two tins of fancy dog food. Again, typical. Bobby was the only recipient of luxury in our family.
The papers and magazines were kept in front of the counter and as I headed towards them I could see the headline of the Hassock Gazette. You couldn’t miss it. WHERE DID THE MYSTERIOUS HERO GO?
I took a sharp breath, frowning. I couldn’t think about this any more.
Him.
Nearly a month had passed since the accident. I’d spent weeks going over every detail, and I still couldn’t make sense of it. I’d just stayed in my room, reading old historical romances of my mother’s and moping about with Dot. The whole family was in shock as Dad convalesced at home, slow and fragile. He was getting better now, but it had shaken us all up. My mother had stopped going on about sending me to school, at least. But she seemed permanently stressed, snapping at me and Dot over the slightest thing, telling us to get out from under her feet. But I didn’t want to go anywhere. My dreams had stopped. Luca had gone. And though I should have been relieved, all I felt was let down. Crazy. I didn’t know him.
Taking a copy of the paper and dumping my basket on the counter, I nodded at the boy working the till. He’d been at my school, a couple of years above me. Eric. One of the few people at Hassock Academy who hadn’t bothered to torment me. He was nice enough … maybe a little dim. Eric glanced up at me once and started adding up the items. When he got to the Gazette he paused, taking in the headline.
‘So cool,’ he said, looking up at me. ‘That guy. Like some kind of superhero.’
‘Superheroes don’t exist,’ I said witheringly, grabbing the paper and stuffing it in my rucksack. ‘They’re for little boys.’
Eric straightened up. ‘I know that,’ he said defensively. ‘It’s just, you know, pretty weird how he was kind of “wandering around” a mountain road.’ He put the rest of the stuff into a plastic bag. ‘You have to admit it.’
I shrugged. ‘No, I don’t.’ I took the bag from him and handed him a ten-pound note. As he counted out the change, he kept looking up at me. I put the money in my purse and smiled tightly at him.
‘Hey?’ he said, recognition finally coming. ‘You’re Jane Jonas!’ He banged his hand triumphantly on the counter.
I closed my eyes, hoping that when I opened them again he’d have disappeared. But he was still there.
‘Jane Jonas …’ He jiggled about on the spot. ‘You’re the girl from the accident.’
‘I’d appreciate it if you’d just shut up,’ I said coldly. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
‘Jane – Jane Jonas,’ he chanted, before his eye caught something behind me and he stopped.
‘She told you to shut up,’ said a voice I vaguely recognised. ‘So do it, moron.’
There was a silence as I turned to take in my rescuer. Tall, blond, smiling at me now, tiny little creases around pool-blue eyes. I swallowed, realising once again that I wasn’t exactly dressed for the occasion.
‘Hi Evan,’ I said, willing my face not to burst into flames. ‘It’s OK. I can handle it.’
Evan moved swiftly and confidently towards me and reached out his hand.
‘Let me take that,’ he said, grabbing the plastic bag. ‘And that,’ he slipped my rucksack off my shoulder. ‘You must be a little shaken up still … after what happened.’
‘I don’t—’ I started, as he pushed a stray curl off my face and tucked it behind my ear.
‘I know,’ he said softly. ‘You don’t want to talk about it.’
I nodded, all the feisty draining out of me.
‘I’ll give you a lift back home.’
‘It’s OK. I’ve got my bike.’
‘And I’ve got a car.’ He opened the door to let me through. ‘So I win.’
Evan drove slowly up back to the house. I hadn’t said a word walking to his car, and now that I was sitting in the front seat next to him, I just concentrated on not looking at him. I didn’t look at h
is long, muscular legs, I didn’t look at his strong, steady hands holding the steering wheel. I definitely didn’t look at his perfect, straight nose and his streaked, messy hair. But I didn’t have to – I had committed every part of him to memory in the entire half-hour I’d spent in his company since we’d met.
I stared ahead of me as we pulled off the main road and focused on keeping my heart rate down. I should have been asking questions. Making conversation; something like, ‘Hey, I hear you ran away and lived like a vagrant for six months and caused your family no end of heartache and worry.’ But I couldn’t. His physical presence made me shyer than ever.
It was a little like avoiding the elephant in the room.
‘You ever play pool?’ asked Evan eventually.
‘Pool?’ I shook my head. ‘There’s nowhere you can play pool here. Not for miles.’
‘I know a place.’ He glanced at me. ‘It’s a way out of here, but it’s a good place to hang out.’ I nodded, both hoping and dreading that his next question would be ‘Want to come sometime?’ When nothing came I stared out of the passenger window and studied the roadside bushes. Evan changed gear as we began the ascent up the mountain road and my heart beat more quickly. In a couple of minutes we’d be there, where that thing had forced Dad off the road.
I felt Evan’s eyes on me. ‘You OK?’ he asked softly.
I exhaled, determined not to see the crushed fence on the other side of the road. ‘I’m fine.’ I smiled at him. ‘Really.’ Through the trees I could see the lights on in our house a mile or so up. ‘You can drop me where the rough track begins. I can walk from there.’
‘Whatever you want. But I’d be happy to take you all the way.’
‘No need.’ I started gathering up my bags. ‘If you could help me get the bike out …’