Rayn burst into tears. She buried her head in Amelia’s chest and sobbed uncontrollably. The blood seeped into both of them as Amelia held her tight sensing this wasn’t about blood or pain, or even losing a fight, this went much deeper and Amelia held on to her friend.
“Oh Amelia,” stuttered Rayn. “I don’t like today.”
“Let’s get you cleaned up; you’ve an interview to give tonight.”
“Me? No. It’s you Carrieanne wants to see, not me.”
“Ooh no you don’t my girl,” said Amelia. “As far as everyone else is concerned, you were the first one on the scene. So it must be your interview. Comprende?”
“Oh yes,” said Rayn through the blood-stained shirt. “I hadn’t thought of that.”
“In fact, as first on the scene, nobody can refute what you saw.” Amelia added.
“Oh wow,” said Rayn. “I feel better already.”
“Go ahead. Knock yourself out. I’ll vouch for you.”
“Ouch,” groaned Rayn as she tried to smile. “Actually, all I want to do is go to bed and wake up yesterday.
“I suppose growing up is a bit like climbing a mountain.” Amelia replied.
“How do you mean?” asked Rayn.
“Never look down.” Amelia smiled.
Chapter Nine
Bridie walked into the garage unsure of what to expect. It was a large cavernous building, mainly corrugated iron but with a transparent roof. The lights were on so she knew he was still around somewhere.
Leaving her shopping on a bench by the door she wanderd around the workshop. She wanted to call out, but her throat was dry and her mind thick with emotion.
Bits of cars and trucks lay strewn about the edges of the floor. One wall was covered with hubcaps. “Why do they do that?” She asked herself with a smile. The smell of oil and petrol permeated everything.
The car he had been working on was in the centre of the floor. The bonnet was up with the radiator and bits of the engine on the floor in front of it. Wires and hoses looked as if they were trying to drag the bits back in. She was reminded of a gutted animal, or worse. She shuddered.
The workbench was as she would have expected; a stool, a clutter of tools, a kettle with tin mugs and a jar of coffee with the remains of his latest mechanical autopsy spread among them. She also noticed a pair of glasses, open and ready for use. An old armchair stood close by with a small canister of Nitromin heart spray wedged in the cushions. Small as it was it spoke volumes to a saddened Bridie.
As she gazed at a faded picture of ‘Miss July, 1973’, she heard a voice from behind her, quiet but firm. “Keep very still. This baguette I’m holding is loaded.” But it was already too late. She’d moved so fast the baguette was covering empty space. Bridie ended up to his left, the kettle pointing at his head.
“Move and I’ll boil your brains out,” she responded.
They laughed together. “Not bad, for a couple of old has-beens.”
“Speak for yourself, old man,” she replied.
They gave each other a hug. He was a good four inches shorter than she was and he looked up into her face like a long-lost son.
“It must be ten years,” he said. “You and Rayn look fantastic.”
“Seems longer,” she replied, as she broke away. “Now, stop this mushy stuff and get that kettle on. It’s freezing out there.” George did as she asked, then dragged a battle-scarred cat from the filthy, threadbare armchair and offered her a seat.
“No thanks,” she said. “That thing is so bad I think even the Titanic would have thrown it overboard before she sank.” They both laughed again. “So, Stephen, how have you been then?” she continued.
“Oh, you know me,” he replied, with a sigh. “I’m always better than yesterday, but not as good as tomorrow.” They chatted aimlessly about the weather, both unsure of the other’s reactions. The memories went deep.
He handed her a mug of strong, black, sugarless coffee and she took a grateful sip.
“Stephen, you still make the best coffee in Ireland. It’s a pity we’re in Hampshire.”
“I see you haven’t changed much. Still the warm, tolerant, friendly girl I used to know,” he laughed.
They looked at each other. The unspoken understanding was still there. Too much history had formed a timeless bond between them. He broke the silence. “You’d better call me George. We might slip up,” he said. “It’s a pity, I liked the name Katja.”
“So did I,” she replied. “But she’s gone George, forever!” They stared into each other’s eyes, remembering.
“It’s just as well,” he smiled, lightening the mood. “I’ve reached the age when my ambitions exceed my abilities.” They both laughed again; a laugh that concealed memories struggling for recognition.
She told him about the conversation she had heard from the girls. “I’ve been trying to listen in on the girl’s conversations. I hate myself for it, but I’ve no choice. It seems that poor old Theodore Melkins chose exactly the wrong moment to throw in the towel. Everything was working according to plan. The girls have met and become good friends. Just what we’ve all worked for. But his death has given them a kick-start to their progress. They’ve started questioning everything and putting things together. I’m afraid they’re smarter than we all thought they’d be at this stage.”
“I wonder if this is what this is all about?” he queried. “I knew Amelia was due to team up with somebody, but I had no idea it would be Rayn.”
“George…” Bridie knew it was time to ask the question that had both haunted and terrified her all these years. She steadied her voice. “Did you know that Rayn was involved when we were together?”
“Yes,” he replied. She felt the tears of frustration and sorrow pricking behind her eyes. “Remember the code,” he continued quickly. “No direct interference? I broke the rules. I got too close and stayed to long. I didn’t know I was going to fall in love with you.”
Bridie was staggered. She knew him well enough to believe him.
“Oh, don’t worry.” He tried to reassure her. “I knew you didn’t love me, it couldn’t last and I would have had to leave eventually. That’s why I didn’t say anything. I was just happy to be there.”
She fell into his arms, the tears streaming down her face. “Oh Stephen, I’m so sorry. I never suspected.”
“Hey, look at you. Ten feet tall and built like an Amazon beauty queen and me straight out of the Neanderthal stable. It would never have worked. We could never have gone out together, and imagine what our children would have looked like!”
“Is that why you never married?”
“Please don’t. Please don’t ask me about this again,” he pleaded. “But I’m glad it’s Rayn. Glad for both of you.”
Bridie wiped her eyes, trying to get her emotions in check. It wasn’t the answer she had expected, or even imagined. How was she going to face up to this? Come on, focus on the problem, she thought.
“Amelia and Rayn have only known each other for a few days. How can they be this far ahead?” she asked him.
“A lot has happened in those few days. None of it expected. Perhaps we’re not as smart as we thought we were?”
“Or perhaps their abilities have been underestimated,” she suggested.
She had to leave then. George promised to get more advice and they shook hands, setting the future of their relationship.
***
Bridie was late back to the shop. She felt greatly relieved. Her meeting with George had lacked the animosity she had expected and she found herself thinking he was still the best friend she had ever had.
He’d answered the question about his knowledge of Rayn, and she’d managed to pass on the information gained by her ‘eavesdroppings’. Bridie smiled at her accidental humour. She felt better now than she had for a very long time.
Back at the flower shop she checked on Lucy. She’d drifted off to sleep and looked relaxed, so Bridie left her where she was.
Sorting
the shopping on to the kitchen table she discovered she’d bought far too much food for a variety of meals.
“Talk about indecision,” she said to herself.
Her attention was diverted for a moment as a large tin of pineapple rings made its bid for freedom. It rolled off the table, hit the floor and rolled into the hall, at speed. Stooping to retrieve it, her mind full of the revenge she would exact on her daughter for this aggravation, she saw spots of blood on the flagstone floor. They led to the bathroom and she could hear the shower going. Her stomach turned cartwheels and she banged on the door in panic, any thoughts of revenge replaced by trepidation.
“Rayn! Amelia!” she called out. “Are you all right?” Amelia’s muffled voice answered her.
“Come in Bridie. We’re okay, really.” Came Amelia’s muffled reply.
Bridie opened the door and immediately felt very uncomfortable. Both girls were in the walk-in shower. Amelia still had her clothes on and was holding a naked Rayn in her arms.
“Oh, sorry, I…” her voice trailed away. She wasn’t quite sure how to react.
“Don’t worry,” said Amelia. “Come on in.”
Bridie found her voice. “I’m sorry. I thought for a moment…”
“Oh, give us a break, Mum. You don’t have to worry about us,” said Rayn, who was holding a flannel over her mouth.
Bridie noticed the blood-stained clothing on the floor. “What happened?” she cried, staring at her daughter’s bloody nose and red eyes.
“She got a nose bleed,” Amelia told her. “It’s nothing major.”
“Says who?” retorted Rayn.
“It was an accident,” Amelia explained, thinking correctly that Rayn needed to preserve her dignity. “I caught her with my foot when we were exercising.”
“Mum, why are you carrying a tin of pineapples?” asked Rayn.
“Oh, gammon steaks for dinner. Are you really all right? You look awful.”
“Yes, Mum. I’m fine. But I hope you bought plenty, I’m starving.
“Well, as it happens..”
“Me too Bridie.” Chipped in Amelia, wondering why her normally balanced body should be treating her like a wheelie bin.
Bridie thought of the amount of shopping she had bought but consoled herself with the fact that the trip had been far from a waste of time in more ways than one.
By the time the girls had dried and dressed Bridie had washed the blood off the hall floor, sorted out their bloody clothes, applied some antiseptic to her daughter’s face, topped her up with pain killers, and got Lucy up and dressed.
While they were all in the kitchen preparing dinner Amelia related the incident where Nigel had seen her boobs, and his reaction.
It caused such a laugh that Lucy had to rush to the toilet. Amelia didn’t mention Nigel’s sudden change from boy to man. “I suppose I’ll have to start wearing a bra soon,” she said, looking down at herself.
“You are athletes remember, and your bodies are proportionate to your physiques” said her mother, trying to ease the both girls concern. “Don’t grow up too quickly.”
“Well they’re taking their time. Most of the girls in my class at school look as though they’re wearing half a football on each side’
Lucy smiled. “Has it not occurred to you that maybe just what they are wearing?”
“I’m never going to wear one of those things!” Rayn announced defiantly.
“What?!” said Amelia and her mother together.
“Here we go,” muttered Bridie under her breath.
“No!” Rayn exclaimed. “I’m not wearing a harness like some domesticated animal. If people don’t like it they can look at my face.”
“Not a pleasant option at the moment, is it?” Bridie remarked.
“You know, Rayn,” Amelia pondered, “I never thought of it like that. You may have something there.”
“Amelia Jaxson,” cried Lucy, joining in. “Don’t you dare. Don’t even think about it.” She picked up the packet of frozen oven chips and hurled them at the girls. As they dived out the door screaming with laughter the bag hit the top of the doorframe and split, showering them and the floor with frozen chips.
Bridie scooped up a handful and threw them at the retreating pair. “You people will be the death of me!” she shouted.
Amelia ducked into the shop and collided with Carrieanne and Claire, who were standing open-mouthed. Their father was behind them giving a disapproving look. He gave his polite but pointless cough, which was smothered by the ensuing chaos.
“Hi girls,” Amelia managed to say. “Make a run for the living room. To your right, past the stairs and on the left. Follow Rayn!”
Bridie was just about to launch another handful of chips when Carrieanne appeared in the hall. “Lucy! They’ve got reinforcements!” she screamed.
“Bridie, that’s our dinner!” Lucy was trying to shout through her laughter.
Things calmed down quickly when the vicar came into the hall. He was shocked to see adults behaving in this childish, unruly manner. He spoke very calmly.
“Your shop door was open so we came in. I hope we are not intruding upon some family ritual, are we?” Bridie and Lucy were quick to notice the patronising sarcasm.
“Oh no, Vicar. Just a bit if fun. We are pretty much all sane,” replied Bridie.
He turned to his daughters. “Right girls, I have some visits to make. Behave yourselves please. I’ll be back in about an hour.” He retreated, looking unsure as to whether he should leave his offspring with such a bunch of maniacs. Amelia was sure she heard him mutter the word ‘Catholics’ with some disdain on his way out.
The sister’s looked doubtful and confused as Bridie grabbed a broom and started sweeping up the softening chips.
“Oh Bridie, that was our dinner,” said Lucy.
“Still is,” she answered. “I’ll just stick them in the oven. They’ll be fine. I don’t think they felt a thing.”
Amelia showed the girls into the living room, where they became even more perplexed when they saw Rayn’s face.
“Should we come back another time?” said Carrieanne.
“No way!” demanded her sister. “I’m enjoying this. I think this is what normal people call fun.”
“I’m sorry. Have we upset you?” asked Amelia.
“No,” said Carrieanne. “It’s just that if we were to drop a chip on the floor it’s, er, well…”
“One foot in the gates of hell!” said Claire, finishing the sentence.
“Oh yeah,” continued Carrieanne. “Drop that lot and…” she drew a finger across her throat.
“Wow, I couldn’t stand that. I’d leave,” said Rayn, mortified.
“Don’t worry,” replied Claire. “As soon as Caz is eighteen we’re off. Right Caz?”
“I don’t think we can wait that long,” Carrieanne responded in a quiet voice. There was an embarrassing silence for a few moments. “What happened to you?” said Carrieanne to Rayn, changing the subject. “That looks painful.”
“Oh nothing. My mum got mad at me when I dropped the bag of chips.”
Carrieanne and Claire’s eyes widened in horror. Then they joined in the laughter when they realised they’d been ‘had’.
“Sorry,” said Rayn. “I couldn’t resist that.”
Amelia told them about the training program and Rayn’s ‘accident’, while Rayn treated them to a much embellished version of the ‘Nigel and the boobs’ incident. The two newcomers were almost in awe of Amelia and Rayn’s freedom, as they called it.
“Shall we do the interview, then?” said Amelia at length.
“Yes please. I’ve brought my tape recorder along, is that okay?” asked Carrieanne.
“Ask Rayn,” said Amelia. “She’s the one you’re interviewing.”
“I am?” replied Carrieanne in surprise. “But my dad told me you were the first one there.”
Rayn sat up quickly, her curiosity aroused. “Really? How would he know that? I mean, what would
make him say that?”
“He said he overheard some policemen talking. Why?” Carrieanne’s journalist’s nose sensed the undercurrent of something not quite right. Amelia knew she had to change the subject, and quickly.
“Which one of you plays the cello, then?”
“Cello? Neither of us. I play piano and Caz plays guitar. Why do you ask?” said Claire.
“We were outside the music rooms when Melkins jumped. I thought I heard someone playing. It was beautiful. I thought it may have been one of you two,” Amelia said in her most innocent voice.
“You couldn’t have,” said Carrieanne. “They have one cello in the store, but no one plays it.”
“So who was in the practice room when the professor did his dive?” asked Rayn.
“No one,” said Claire. “We were in the piano room together.”
“That’s right,” confirmed Carrieanne. “Dad had popped in about half an hour before to make sure we were practising our party piece for his anti-Halloween concert on Saturday. There was no one in there.”
“But surely someone could have wandered in with an instrument that sounded like a cello?” piped up Rayn.
“Not likely,” laughed Carrieanne. “Nothing else sounds like a cello. Anyway, the main practice room was locked and I had the key in my pocket.”
Rayn stood up, her face quite pale. She looked at Amelia. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
Carrieanne’s eyes followed Rayn as she left the room. The young inexperienced journalist in her was silently screaming ‘Scoop!’ She was thinking that Amelia was a pushover. She couldn’t lie to save her life. But Rayn…Oh, she was good. Very good. She would have to find a way to bring her down and let her know that she, Carrieanne West, was no fool.
“Sorry, false alarm,” said Rayn as she returned. “Right, let’s do this.”
“You two go ahead,” said Amelia. “I’ll take Claire up to my room and keep out the way.”
Rayn laughed. “You’ll find a whole new meaning to the word ‘freedom’ up there,” she said to Claire. “You have to wipe your shoes when you leave.”
Amelia picked up a cushion to hit her with, but thought better of it.
The Chrysalid Conspiracy Page 13