“Can I have a word with you afterwards please, Amelia?” said Carrieanne.
“It might be a bit late,” Amelia parried, trying to wriggle out of it. She didn’t want to spoil Rayn’s interview with contradictions.
When Claire saw Amelia’s bedroom she stared in disbelief.
“Oh, we had a bit of an emergency…” began Amelia, searching for an excuse more than an explanation. “Our clothes were covered in blood and I needed something to change into. She kicked the clothes and books and bits and pieces to one side, dragged another pile of clothes off the bed and threw them on top saying, “There, have a seat,” Claire sat down cautiously, looking around at what, to her, was a completely alien environment.
“Oh, don’t worry,” said Amelia, noticing her reaction. “It’ll get cleared up later, eventually, sometime. So, what’s your speciality then?”
“Piano, but mainly maths.”
“Wow, you need to talk to Rayn. She’s really good.”
“Actually, I’m a child prodigy.” Claire was speaking quickly, as if she needed to get something off her chest. “I’ve been selected to go to a school for gifted children. But it would mean leaving Caz with them. She’s not that strong, and I’m afraid they’ll bend her mind eventually.”
There was no pretentiousness, no bragging or ego in her statement. To her they were just facts – a series of circumstances which had conspired to suspend her in confusion. Her only concern was for her sister. “I really don’t know what to do,” she said.
“I’m not sure I’m with you,” replied Amelia. “What do you mean by bending her mind? Could you be a little more specific?”
“Religion! Mum and dad are nutters, to put it bluntly. Everything they do or say is dictated by their fanatical ideology. And they believe it’s their duty to make us the same. To them there is no choice and no doubts. It’s their truth.”
“Aren’t they pleased about your selection?” asked Amelia. She was becoming alarmed by Claire’s increasing agitation.
“No. They’re dead against it. The school said they are used to handling difficult parents. Huh! They don’t know what they’re up against. That religion stuff is a worldwide syndicate. Breaking up a family is against God’s will. Oh, and maths is the devil’s work. Get the picture?”
“It’s not my place to criticise, but it must be a nightmare. I thought I had problems. Can’t you complain to somebody about child abuse? Because that’s what it is.”
Claire laughed. “You have no idea. Nobody wants to know because it’s political suicide to go against the church. That, or they think we are so lucky to get such a wonderful upbringing. There’s no way you can go against them. They’re too strong, too powerful.” Claire was near to tears and her voice was breaking. “Oh Amelia, I’m so scared for Caz. They won’t let her go to college. She’s terrific at art and the teachers say she has a natural talent for journalism. She doesn’t know it, but I think they want us to become nuns.” The words came out in a rush and she finally burst into tears.
Amelia sat beside her on the bed and put her arm around the sobbing girl. “You’ve never had a chance to talk to anybody about this, have you?” she said, softly. She felt so helpless. It also crossed her mind that this was the second time that day that she’d had to support someone. I wonder who’ll be there when it’s my turn to fall apart. She thought.
“Come on, Claire,” she continued brightly. “You’re a bit like Rayn. A quick mind and a quick mouth, but underneath you’re all marshmallow. I wish I could help, but I don’t see what I can do.”
Claire stopped crying and was trying to smile. “I’m sorry, Amelia. I didn’t mean to do this.” As she wiped her eyes, Amelia picked a sock off the floor and handed it to her to dry her face. Claire looked at her with a frown. “Well, I think it’s a clean one,” said Amelia and they both laughed.
“I tell you what,” Amelia continued after Claire had cheered up, “any time you want to talk, about anything, I’m here, okay? Just to listen. I can’t help much, but sometimes talking to someone acts as a safety valve – you know, let off some steam? I promise I won’t judge or criticise and I won’t interfere, unless you ask. Then I’m sure Rayn and I can dream up some madcap scheme that might or might not work. And I’ll never, ever tell. How’s that?”
Claire threw her arms round Amelia. “Are we friends now, then?” she blurted out.
Amelia smiled and gave her a hug. “I’ve been your friend since I watched you wind your father up over that back seat thing this morning. Come on,” she said, jumping up. “Let’s go see if they’ve finished down there. By the way, you can trust Rayn too, you know.”
“How long have you known her?” Claire asked.
“Almost four days.” came the reply as they piled down the stairs.
***
Carrieanne was just slipping her tape recorder into her bag when Claire and Amelia walked in. “Thanks a lot,” she was saying to Rayn, who looked very pleased with herself, despite the disfigurement. “I won’t need to talk to you now, Amelia. Thanks anyway. Claire!” she said suddenly, seeing her sister’s red-eyed and tear-stained face. “What happened to you?”
“Nothing. It’s okay,” Claire cut in quickly. “I’m afraid I told Amelia some of our problems.”
“It seems we’re not the only ones with problems,” Carrieanne answered. “What’s going on here?” She was staring directly at Amelia.
“What do you mean?” asked Amelia.
Carrieanne continued. “That interview was the biggest load of crap I have ever heard. What are you two hiding?”
Rayn leapt up and went in to her well-practised ‘Oscar award’ routine, protesting her innocence.
“Rayn, shut up!” demanded Amelia. She looked at Carrieanne. “Pick the bones from what she told you and print it. It’s better than the truth.”
“And what is the truth?” insisted Carrieanne.
“Look Caz,” said Amelia, using her nickname for the first time. “You’d be doing us a big favour if you could print Rayn’s version, or a version of it. Would you please?”
“And do I get the story when you’re ready?” she persisted, not wanting to let this one go.
“Caz,” Rayn said. “I want to apologise. I was having a bit of fun at your expense. I’m sorry.” She looked at Amelia and they silently agreed. “We promise you, you will get the story, but not right now.” she finished.
“But when you do, I don’t think you’ll be able to print it,” Amelia added without thinking.
“Really?” said Carrieanne, intrigued.
“Well, er…” Amelia was unusually lost for words.
“We lied to the police,” Rayn interrupted, and Amelia sighed with relief.
“That’s perjury,” Carrieanne informed her. “That’s a criminal offence!”
“No, we weren’t under oath and our parents weren’t present” Rayn was quick to respond. “It’s just that they might follow it up.”
“And why did you lie?” asked Carrieanne, using her instincts to look for more.
Claire turned to her sister. “Leave it, Caz. They don’t want to tell us yet. Leave it alone. Please.”
Amelia continued. “And we would be grateful if you didn’t repeat this to anyone, anyone at all.”
“Especially your father,” added Rayn before she could stop herself.
The two sisters gasped. “What?” they said in unison.
“That’s all for now,” said Amelia, trying to end the conversation.
“Do you mean that daddy may be involved in your Headmaster’s death?” Claire’s voice was almost a whisper.
“No, no,” broke in Amelia. She could sense the conversation slipping away from her. “It’s just that he’s, er…”
“Friendly with the police,” finished Rayn. “You never know.”
There was a tap on the shop window. “Talk of the Devil,” said Rayn. The remark wasn’t lost on his children.
“Do it, Caz. Do it for me, for us. Please.�
�� Claire implored her sister. She had an inner feeling that this was right and she didn’t want to lose it.
Carrieanne nodded to her. She took her tape recorder out of her bag and gave it to Rayn. “This is for Claire. A token of trust. I didn’t turn it off. It’s the whole conversation. Never trust a journalist.”
“What about my interview?” complained Rayn.
“Oh, I think I can think up something better than that. And more believable, as well.” She smiled and the two girls left to walk home with their father.
Back in the living room, Amelia and Rayn both relaxed.
“You bailed me out again, thanks,” said Amelia.
“You need to learn to think faster.”
“You need to learn to move faster,” replied Amelia, indicating Rayn’s face.
“Yeah,” she said. “That’s twice I’ve been put down today. I must be slipping.”
“It’s lucky that Claire came down on our side,” said Amelia.
“I think I saw a glimmer of hope in her voice,” agreed Rayn.
“What?” exclaimed Amelia. “How can you see a glimmer of hope in someone’s voice?”
Rayn thought for a moment. “Well, I didn’t really see it, or hear it. I sort of sensed it, in my mind. Damn you, Amelia – whatever you’ve got it must be catching. With my luck I’ll be hearing trombones next.” The laughter broke the spell of uncertainty the girls were feeling at almost being outsmarted.
“Those poor girls,” said Amelia after a while, and she told Rayn about the conversation up in her room. “I wish we could help them in some way.”
“Don’t we have our own problems?” said Rayn.
“Yes, but ours is only a far-fetched fictional conspiracy theory, right?” replied Amelia.
Rayn responded quickly, “A theory that has the habit of stringing a lot of strange things together. We now know that the Vicar was in the building when the professor jumped. I wonder what that proves, if anything,” Rayn argued. She was determined to keep Amelia’s interest.
“Well,” replied Amelia. “You remember when we were being questioned by the police?”
“Yeah,” said Rayn. “It’ll be a long time before I forget that one.”
“I never got the chance to tell you, but when the vicar held my hands, I could feel his need for control. I thought at the time it was the same feeling I had from whoever was in the Professor’s office. I dismissed it because it didn’t seem possible. After all, he is a vicar. But now, well, I don’t know.” And she told Rayn of her mother’s account of the Vicar leaving to a cello fanfare.
Before Rayn could comment, their mothers came in, having eaten in the kitchen.
“Have they gone?” said Bridie as she piled the table with trays of food “Seem like a nice couple of kids, don’t they?”
The girls dived in the deep end as Lucy spoke up. “I get the feeling that all is not well in that family,” and she looked at Amelia for confirmation. Amelia shrugged.
“Could be. I don’t know,” she lied.
Lucy watched them destroy Bridie’s culinary mountain and she felt the first flush of panic. Not yet, her mind screamed, it’s way too early for this reaction.
“Let me see that face, young lady,” Bridie said, unaware of Lucy’s concern. She made Rayn stop eating and cupped her head in her hands, gently moving her neck. “Does that hurt?”
“A bit, but the painkillers have kicked in now,” Rayn replied.
“Hmm,” Bridie responded. “Head up. Look up, left, right.” She looked into her daughter’s eyes. “I’m not happy about this,” she announced. “You are spending the day in bed tomorrow. And no arguments.”
“Oh Mum,” Rayn wailed. “I’m fine, really.”
“No you’re not. Anyway, you need the rest. And that’s final!” Bridie was in no mood to argue.
“I think it’s for the best,” said Amelia, assessing Bridie’s mood. “I’ll come over and see you in the afternoon, okay?”
“All right then,” Rayn conceded. “Let’s go home.” She said to her mother.
“I’ll call for a taxi,” said Lucy. “I’m not having Rayn walk down that dark lane. It’s awful weather tonight.”
“That sounds good.” Rayn responded. “I do feel a bit whacked out. No pun intended,” she added with a laugh.
“Lucy, you know that’s an expense we can’t afford, and I won’t let you pay. You know that.” Bridie was getting cross.
“Oh no, I’m not paying. Amelia is,” said Lucy.
“What?” cried Amelia, but the look on her mother’s face told her that this battle was already over. “How do you figure that out?” Her mother’s light smile told Amelia all she needed to know.
“Because this is your mess and you can take the consequences. You can’t kick someone in the face and just walk away, you know. ‘The piper must be paid’,” she quoted.
Later, tucked up in bed and tired though she was after a long day, Amelia couldn’t sleep and decided to read for a while. With the book she found the forgotten letter that Miss Collins had given her. She had the fleeting impression it was a last minute postscript but after reading it her heart and her mind thumped and, no longer aware that tiredness even existed, she opened the book.
Chapter Ten
Turning over to do battle with her alarm clock Amelia felt a stab of pain between her shoulder blades. Her clock had a smug look on its face. “Somebody told you about Horace, did they?” she questioned it. “Well, enjoy the moment; it could be your last.” Then it dawned on her that the pain was external, she was lying on something with sharp corners and the book, with what little information she’d gleaned from it, dug its way into her mind. Speed-reading hadn’t worked well, and she’d had to resort to the old fashioned slog.
Perched on the edge of her bed, flexing the muscles in her back, she reviewed her discoveries. Explanations? There were none. Information she could use? The same. Information she could make sense of? Not a lot. Anything at all she could understand? Not a squidgeon. She decided that though the professor may have been brilliant in his field, he might have had a cupboard full of Nobel Prize gold medals, and perhaps he even tossed cabers in his spare time, but the one thing he couldn’t do was write coherently. This was going to be a challenge.
Dragging herself into her tracksuit she sat on the bed, frustrated at only finding one trainer. She flirted with the idea that it was only Tuesday, and the omens were in favour of a bad week. She toyed with the idea of not going for a run today but then she remembered the tension from the gym last night and knew she had to, if only to check that Nigel was okay with everything.
She slipped out the front door, locked it behind her and put the key in a zip-up pocket in her suit top. Nigel arrived while she was doing her warm up. “Hi Nigel, how are you this morning?” she enquired.
“I’m fine, how are you?” he said.
“My brain won’t wake up,” she told him. Nigel’s smile told Amelia her day just got a lot worse.
“We’ll just run. There’s a footpath all the way to the Moonraker. Let’s go there today.”
“What?” Amelia’s bad morning just got worse.
“Come on. You’ve no school today, so no excuses,” he laughed and they set off at a gentle pace over the old stone bridge towards Warem Down.
“How’s Rayn?” he asked her after a few minutes.
“She’s fine, at least physically. I don’t think anyone has ever spoken to her like that before. Or at least lived to tell the tale,” Amelia answered. “You were a bit brutal, Nigel. That’s not like you at all.”
“I’m sorry Amelia, but it needed doing. That was the right time and the right place,” he said, confident with his decision.
“How do you mean?” She was curious, and she wanted to get this out of the way, for Rayn’s sake.
“Well,” said Nigel. “It’s like when I’m training people to reach a new level of fitness; I know exactly what to do. I seem to see right through them. I know what makes them tick, whe
ther they’re going to make it or not, and what’s stopping them. Rayn needed that, right at that moment. She’s so talented Amelia, you’ve no idea. I just had to. Do you follow me?”
“Yes Nigel, I do. Very much.”
“Yeah, get me out of that world and I’m lost. Since I took a hit in Cambodia I…”
“Cambodia?” Amelia cut in, surprised. “We’re not at war with them, are we?”
“No, not really,” Nigel laughed. “But you have no idea what’s going on out in the world, Amelia. Everything is falling apart and the more we do to hold it together, the worse it gets. Anyway, since I got wounded I can only ever think straight in the gym. Take me out of there and I feel as if I’m treading water. You know what I mean?”
“Only too well, my friend,” agreed Amelia.
“That Rayn. She’s really something,” he continued.
Amelia cut in quickly. This didn’t sound healthy. “Careful Nigel,” she warned. “She’s only fourteen years old. You know that.”
“No, not like that Amelia. Crikey!” he responded quickly. “I mean athletically talented. I knew from the moment I first saw her. That’s why I couldn’t take my eyes off her at the school. I hope I didn’t give her the wrong impression.”
“You did, Nigel. But it’s not surprising, really. You’re not exactly Quasimodo,” Amelia laughed.
“Who?” he said.
“Never mind. She’ll get over it.” Thoughts of Rayn behaving like Esmeralda amused her and she smiled as she saw the similarities.
“Anyway,” Nigel’s enthusiasm was apparent. “She’s a bit rough around the edges, but I can see a lot of time and effort has been put in to her, by some very good people. They must have known what they were doing.”
Amelia stopped running. She stood there, utterly bewildered. “Are you sure about that, Nigel?” she said.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “Don’t forget that what I see in people is common sense to me. I can tell she’s been trained by the way she…by the way she just…is. That’s all…”
“Can we head back now, please? We must be nearly there anyway,” Amelia requested, trying to dismiss what she’d just heard.
The Chrysalid Conspiracy Page 14