by Ben Cheetham
“You’re right,” said Julian, as the tears behind his eyes subsided. “I do have feelings for you. That’s why I can’t let you help me.”
“I’m not talking about helping find Mia Bradshaw. I’m talking about taking care of you. You can’t keep on like this, Julian. You’ll get sick, and then you’ll be no good to Mia or anyone.”
Julian lowered his gaze, his brow jagged with lines of indecision. Eleanor was right, he knew. What with Mia, and the dreams, and his mum, and trying to save the business, he was almost ready to collapse, both physically and emotionally. If she could take just a little of the pressure off him, maybe it would be enough to keep him going – keep him sane. He felt himself weakening, felt his eyes drawn back to her eyes, her hair. “You’ve got to promise, no questions about Mia Bradshaw.”
Eleanor smiled again, this time with relief, and nodded. Then she was putting her arms around Julian, leaning in to press her mouth against his. She tasted of lip gloss, a familiar sweet, waxy taste. And she tasted of yearning. He sighed into her mouth, feeling her warmth and strength, taking it for his own. It ran through his veins, hotter than whisky. For a moment, he was lost to everything but her. Then, realising the danger, he drew away, shaking his head. “No, I can’t do this now, Eleanor. No matter how much I want to. I’m sorry.”
“Well, then, we don’t have to do this…anything…now…” Eleanor’s voice wavered, tears coming into her eyes. “We can just be friends, until you’re ready for more.”
“I don’t know if I can just be friends with you. Besides, it wouldn’t be right. I’d be using you, and I...well, I care for you too much to do that.”
“Then use me. I’ve got enough strength for both of us.”
Julian stared at Eleanor almost in disbelief. She’d bared her heart, laid herself open to him. Now she was offering everything she had, asking nothing in return. How could he not give in to that? He gave her cheek a slight caress with one finger. “Leaving you was stupidest thing I ever did.”
Eleanor nodded as if that was self-evident. “But you’re back now, right?”
“You always were stubborn.”
“We’re both stubborn, that’s why we’re good for each other.” Eleanor’s eyes searched Julian’s. “So what happens now?”
“Now I need to work. The business is going through a bad patch.”
“How bad?”
“Well put it this way, if we don’t start to turn things around in the next few months, we might never turn them around.”
“Seriously? That’s awful. Is there anything I can do to help out?”
Julian considered Eleanor’s offer a moment, then said, “Actually there is. We’re thinking about having a new website designed. You can help with that if you like.” When she eagerly agreed, he showed her the old website and they made a list of things he wanted from a new one.
“It’s a bit different to setting up an archive but, yeah, I think I can do that. I’ll start work on it today.”
“That’d be great. It’d save us an absolute fortune and free me up to get on with other things.” Feeling a slight lightening sensation in his chest, Julian smiled and added, “We’d pay you, of course.”
Eleanor shook her head. “I don’t want your money, Julian, I just want to see you happy.” She picked up the list. “I’d better get to work on this.”
“I’ll see you later.”
“You promise.”
“I promise.”
Eleanor looked at Julian as if she was thinking about kissing him again, but made no move to. “You’ve changed, you know.”
“Have I?”
“Yeah, you seem…older.”
“I suppose living away from home does that to you.”
Eleanor shook her head. “It’s not that. I didn’t notice it when you first got back, but now, well, it’s like years not weeks have passed since then.”
It felt like that to Julian too. He held in a sigh. “Nobody stays the same.”
“I guess not.” Eleanor hesitated, then added, “You know, if there’s something bothering you other than Mia Bradshaw, you can talk to me about it. You can talk to me about anything.”
Not for the first time, Julian wondered how Eleanor would look at him if he told her about his dreams. She’d look at him with the same revulsion he looked at himself in the mirror each morning, he knew that much. But would she ever again be able to look at him with the same pureness of love as now? Or would her eyes always be tainted by the knowledge that there was something so monstrous trying to get in, or trying to get out of him? “Thanks,” he said, blinking away from Eleanor’s eyes. He made a show of typing on the computer, but as soon as she was gone he reached for the whisky and took a long pull at it.
Chapter 19
For a while Julian dwelled on Eleanor, trying to make sense of his feelings. He needed her. He supposed he’d always known that, but he hadn’t really admitted it to himself until now. She symbolised the best of his world and anchored him to it. Without her, he was an emotional wreck, drifting towards a nervous breakdown. But if he wanted to have a future with her, he knew, sooner or later he was going to have to let her see into the darkest corners of his mind. The thought made him want to shrink away from that future, but it was preferable to living a lie. Wasn’t it? Or was it better to keep that part of himself hidden from her? In his head, he heard his dad saying, sometimes you have to lie to protect people. Then his mum’s voice rose up in opposition. The worst thing in the world, it chanted, the worst thing in the world, the worst thing in the world...
He silenced the competing voices with another mouthful of whisky. His thoughts returned to the only person he’d felt comfortable opening his mind to, the only person he’d met with the power to stop the dreams. Mia. “Where are you?” he murmured, closing his eyes. In desperation, he tried to reach out to her with his mind, thinking, maybe she was right, maybe I do have my grandma’s power. But if he did, he couldn’t tap into it. He found himself struggling even to picture Mia’s face. The memory of it was fading like an old photograph. A kind of panic rising up in him, he logged into Facebook and navigated to her homepage. He stared at her face, fixing the smallest details of it in his mind – the intense blue eyes, the pale skin scattered with a faint spray of freckles, the painted pouting lips, the hard curve of her jaw. He stiffened at every sound outside his door, expecting it to be Tom Benson come to haul him down the station. But the policeman didn’t come. He wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or not. By the end of the day, the whisky bottle was almost empty, and he felt almost empty too. His dad came into the office and asked, “So, how’s your day been?”
“I found someone to design the website,” said Julian, and he told his dad about Eleanor.
Robert smiled. “That’s fantastic. Come on, time for home.”
Muzzy-headed from drink, Julian sluggishly followed his dad to the car. He sat slumped in the passenger seat, unmoving, unspeaking, until his dad drove past the turn for their house. “Where are we going?” he asked, sitting up, little puckers forming around his eyes as he looked at the approaching forest.
“You’ll see. It’s a surprise.”
As they drove further into the forest, getting closer to the turn off for Mr X’s house, Julian began to feel increasingly agitated. It crossed his mind that maybe Tom Benson had contacted his dad and arranged to meet them at Mr X’s place, so that they could prove to him once and for all that Mia wasn’t there. He hoped with everything he had in him that that wasn’t the case. The policeman was right, it was easier for him to believe in Mr X, than face up to the possibility that Mia was dead. He released a silent breath of relief, when his dad turned into the driveway of a house just off The Old Forest Road. Robert pointed to a car parked in the drive – a shiny Audi, the kind of thing middle-ranking executives drive. “Well, what do you think?” he asked. “Do you like it?”
“Yeah sure, it’s nice.”
“I’m glad you think so, because it’s yours.” Robert smil
ed at Julian as if expecting a smile in return. He just about managed to muster one up. His dad went on to tell him that a business acquaintance had happened to mention he was looking to sell his car and he thought it’d be perfect for him.
“It is, but are you sure you can afford it?” Julian asked, a little awkwardly, not wanting to embarrass his dad.
Robert wafted his words away. “When it comes to business you need to look the part if you want to be taken seriously.” With a wink, he added, “And besides, it’s tax deductible.”
Julian looked the car over while his dad went off to collect the keys. When he returned, he handed him them and the car ownership documents, saying, “No driving too fast on the forest roads and no jumping red lights. I don’t want anymore trips to the hospital this week. Okay?”
“Okay. Thanks for this, Dad.” Julian would’ve liked to say more, tell him how grateful he was for everything he’d done for him, maybe even hug him or something. But he didn’t know how. “You want to go for a spin?”
Robert shook his head. “I’ve got a few details to sort out here. I’ll see you back at home.”
Julian drove extra carefully back to town – not because of what his dad had said, the last thing he needed was to be pulled over with a quart of whisky sloshing around inside him. He didn’t go home, he went to the Hill’s house. Mike Hill came to the door. “Hello, Julian, what can I do for you?”
“I’m here to see Eleanor.”
A frown of surprise creased the journalist’s forehead. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he said in a hushed voice, “I thought we’d agreed you’d stay away from Ellie for now.”
“I know, but things have changed.”
“How have they changed? Have you found something out about Mia Bradshaw?”
Julian shook his head. “Thing is, me and Eleanor, well, we’ve decided to get back together.” Mike didn’t look pleased. Bolstered by alcohol, Julian didn’t care. “Is she in?”
“Yes.”
“Can I go up and see her?”
Mike stretched his arm across the doorway. “I’ve got to say, I’m disappointed in you, Julian.”
“Well you’ve got no right to be,” Eleanor said sharply, descending the stairs behind her dad. “Julian would’ve done as he promised, if I hadn’t convinced him not to. I’m the one who should be disappointed – disappointed in you. You had no right to interfere in my life like that. I’m not a child.”
“You’re right,” agreed Mike. “You’re not a child, but you’re not an adult yet either.”
“I’m eighteen. In the eyes of the law, I’m an adult.”
“In the eyes of the law, yes, but not in my eyes. In my eyes, you’re still my baby girl. Do you understand?”
Her eyes softening to their usual tenderness, Eleanor sighed and nodded. “But you’ve got to understand something too, Dad. I love Julian and want to be with him no matter what.”
“And does he feel the same?” Mike shot a narrow glance at Julian. “I mean, he left you once before, what’s to stop him doing it again?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” said Julian. “I’m here, and I’m staying here.”
“Well Ellie’s not. She’s going to university in September. What’ll you do then?”
“I’m not definitely going,” said Eleanor. “I might put it off a year, reapply somewhere closer to home.”
Mike’s eyes widened in disapproving surprise. “What? You can’t be serious. You’ve been accepted into one of the best universities in-”
“I don’t want to talk about this now,” Eleanor cut him off.
“Well I do. You’re talking about putting your future in jeopardy over some boy who, well, to put it frankly, who isn’t worth it.”
Spots of colour came into Eleanor’s cheeks. Pursing her lips as if to contain her anger, she turned to Julian. “Want to go for a walk?”
“Sure.”
Avoiding her dad’s gaze, Eleanor moved off to fetch her shoes. Eyes hard with worry, Mike leant in close to Julian. “If anything happens to her, I’ll hold you responsible.” His voice was low and heavy with intent, almost threatening.
Even through all the alcohol in his system, Julian felt a little surge of adrenaline. Blinking, he dropped his gaze from Mike’s. Eleanor pushed past her dad and, taking hold of Julian’s hand, drew him away from the door. “This isn’t over,” Mike called after them. “We’re going to talk about this.”
Eleanor ignored him. “Sorry about that,” she said to Julian. “He didn’t mean what he said, he was just angry.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Mike’s comments hadn’t offended Julian. In fact, he agreed with them. He showed her his car. “Want to go for a drive?”
Eleanor shook her head. “Let’s just walk.”
Hand in hand, they wandered along until they came to the lane that led to the hay-barn. Eleanor looked at Julian meaningfully. “Do you want to go that way?”
“Do you?”
Eleanor nodded. Julian’s heart beat in time to their quickening footsteps as they made their way to the stile at the end of the lane. Beyond was a meadow, hazy in the evening light. They ran through the long grass to the barn, which was stacked half-full of bales of hay. Julian hesitated in the grass-smelling gloom. “Are you sure about this?”
“Completely.”
They pulled out some hay and lay on it, face to face, each waiting for the other to make the first move. “I haven’t been with anyone else since we broke up,” said Eleanor.
“There was this girl at uni,” Julian admitted, guilt tingling through him. He added quickly, “It was nothing serious.”
Eleanor smiled, reaching to push her hand through his hair. “There’s no need to explain, Jules.”
Her words strengthened rather than eased his guilt. “Your dad was right, you know, about university and about me.”
“Shh.”
Julian made a low noise of pleasure as Eleanor dragged her nails gently across his scalp. Blood pounding in his head and groin, he rested his hand on her thigh, moved it over the curve of her waist and drew her close. She wrinkled her nose. “Have you been drinking?”
Not replying, Julian dipped his chin to kiss her neck. “Mmm,” she purred, arching her head. He worked his way up to her mouth. As their lips met, he closed his eyes. The instant he did so a face flashed into his mind – a cute, girl-next-door face with baby-blue eyes framed by sandy blonde-hair. With a start, he snapped open his eyes, passing his hand over them as if to swipe the image away.
“What’s wrong?” asked Eleanor, a slight frown marring the smoothness of her forehead.
“Nothing.”
“Listen, we don’t have to do this if-”
“No, I want to,” Julian interjected with sudden resolve. The dreams already ruled his nights, he wasn’t about to let them rule his days too. Cupping his fingers around Eleanor’s chin, he kissed her again. He couldn’t bring himself to close his eyes, though. She threw her leg over him, rolling so she straddled him. As she bent forward, her hair blinded him. Again, the image burst upon his consciousness, vivid as a living being. Like a physical force, it reached out to him from the dark, accompanied by a surge of lust so intense, so raw, it shook him to his core. Gasping, he brushed Eleanor’s hair away. Light rushed in, but the image remained, as if it’d been branded on his retinas. Before he even realised what he was doing, he’d flipped Eleanor onto her back, pinning her arms.
“Hey, take it easy,” she said.
He didn’t see Eleanor anymore. He only saw the face in his mind, the blue eyes swollen and wet with fear. There was no light in his eyes as he bent to run his tongue roughly over Eleanor’s cheek. “Stop, I don’t like that,” she said. He didn’t stop. He felt drugged, powerless to resist the white-hot scour of his desire. She tried to squirm out from under him, but his hands were on her like iron, pulling at her clothes, grinding into her crotch.
“No, Julian. I said no!” Eleanor brought her knee up hard between Julian’s le
gs. The pain that exploded in his groin blotted out everything else. With an agonised groan, he rolled off her and lay crumpled in a heap. “What the fuck’s the matter with you?” she demanded to know, glaring at him.
“I’m losing it,” said Julian, speaking more to himself than Eleanor. He started shaking his head and banging his forehead with his fist. “I’m losing my fucking mind.”
“Stop that.”
Julian didn’t hear. He hit himself harder and faster. When Eleanor reached to catch his hand, he recoiled from her as if his touch might infect her with some dreadful disease. “Stay away from me.”
“Why are you being like this, Julian?” There were tears in Eleanor’s voice now, as her anger gave way to confused desperation. “Are you trying to drive me away? Is that it?”
“Christ, I wish that’s all there was to it.”
“Well what else is there to it. Speak to me, Julian, for fuck’s sake.”
“There’s…” Julian struggled to find the words. “There’s something in me, some kind of sickness.” He hammered his hand into his head again. “I can feel it in there trying to get out.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Neither do I. I keep having these…these…” Julian couldn’t bring himself to say the word dreams. He didn’t even want to think it in case doing so caused the images to spill out of his subconscious again. Desperately trying to make his mind a blank space, a white sheet of emptiness, he struggled to his feet. “I’m sorry, Eleanor. I’m so-” He broke off, voice choked by tears of shame. Keeping his eyes on the ground, he hurried out of the barn.
“Wait, Julian,” Eleanor called after him. But he didn’t wait, he quickened to a run. He knew now what he must’ve known unconsciously all along, it wasn’t just Mr X he needed to protect Eleanor from, it was himself. Feeling sick to his stomach, he got into the car, threw it into gear and screeched away. He drove fast to the centre of town, to The Cut. He ordered a whisky, chucked it down his throat, ordered another, did the same with that, and another, and another. When he blearily glimpsed himself in the mirror behind the bar, a look of revulsion and loathing etched itself into his face. It was all he could do to resist the urge to fling his glass at his reflection. He felt, or imagined he felt, a pressure growing behind his eyes. As if the darkness that lurked there was trying to burst forth. Again, he wondered where the darkness came from. For a long time he’d managed to convince himself that its source was external, that the séance had released something, not a ghost, but some kind of malevolent energy that was bent on taking over his psyche. But now he couldn’t help wondering whether in reality the darkness had always been there and the séance had simply acted as a catalyst, setting in motion the subconscious forces of his own nature.