The Chrysalid Conspiracy

by A. J. Reynolds

  “Of course,” said Lucy. “I’m sorry. It hadn’t occurred to me. I don’t know.”

  “Only, now George is… well, no longer with us,” explained Molly, “Nigel doesn’t have a job and things are a bit awkward. We’ve even had to put our wedding on hold.”

  “There’s plenty to do around here,” Bridie suggested to Lucy. “Rayn thinks she’s too intelligent for housework, and we owe Molly and Nigel big time for their help at the Hall on Sunday.” She was looking at Lucy while she spoke.

  “Yes, you’re right Bridie. Molly, you are still employed on full wages if you want. I’d like you to keep us just above the environmental hygiene limits, if that’s all right with you?”

  “Oh, thank you Lucy. I must go and tell Nigel. He’s feeling…”

  Her voice tailed off as Sheila came in from the bedroom. Molly looked at her and gasped. “I know you,” she said. “That big sex scandal. The Australian rugby team. Couple of years ago. Wow.” Molly gave a wide grin. “I thought you looked familiar. Remember that headline, Bridie?”

  “I’ll say,” replied Bridie with a laugh. “Rugby Scrumptious. I remember thinking ‘lucky bitch’.” As they laughed, neither of them noticed Sheila’s face.

  Her shoulders sagged and her head went down. Tears suddenly ran down her cheeks. “No, it’s not fair. It’s never going to go away, is it?” and she made a rush for the door. Escape seemed the only way out.

  “CAROLINE!” A voice of such strength dominated the scene that, for a moment, everyone froze. They all turned and looked at the doorway which led into the house.

  Under different circumstances it would have been very funny. Amelia, dressed in her boxer shorts and a T-shirt, which had a coffee stained picture of D.H. Lawrence down the front, stared at them. One hand held the doorframe, while an upturned broom was tucked under the other arm to keep the weight off her heavily bandaged left leg. Her hair was a mess and she looked as bad as she felt. The silence was electric.

  She raised her head and looked at Sheila. “So you have problems? Big deal. We all have them. Mum here has run a successful business and brought me up from a wheelchair, knowing she’ll never walk again. Bridie lives in a gypsy caravan, scratching a living to bring her daughter up by fortune telling at county fairs. Always broke and on the edge. Molly has spent most of her life in care homes and juvenile detention centres and has two kids to take care of. They don’t stand around blubbering – they get on with it. They wear their problems like a badge to prove they’re alive.”

  Amelia looked for a moment as if she had run out of words, but all she did was painfully move so that she could lean on the counter. Nobody had moved an inch.

  “Look, Caroline, you’re here now and, believe it or not, you’re among friends. This is where you’re supposed to be.” She had softened her voice. “You fell afoul of some over-eager journalist. So what? You know the truth and that’s what’s important,” Amelia continued. “It doesn’t concern us unless you want it to. Bridie and Molly will apologise for their insensitivity. Mother, may we have a dinner tonight? For eight people, I think. Informal; with something nice to clear the air with. And a decent wine, please. Molly, you and Nigel are invited, we owe you big-time. Rayn, would you go over to the burger bar and ask Joe to come and see me, please? I need to talk to him, and I can’t get there. Now, Caroline, or Sheila, whichever you prefer, would you be kind enough to take a look at my immediate temporary problem? I understand your speciality is sports injuries. No innuendo intended.” She then turned and hobbled back to bed.

  “Who the hell is that?” said Sheila.

  “That,” said Lucy, with considerable pride, “is my daughter. Amelia.”

  Bridie, for once, was speechless. Tears ran down Rayn’s face quite freely, but she wasn’t crying.

  “I… er… think I might…” muttered Bridie.

  “Open a bottle of brandy?” suggested Rayn.

  I can’t really approve of that,” said Lucy. “Not this early. But how about you, Sheila?”

  “I wouldn’t normally this early, but this has been a bit of a shock,” she said. “I didn’t expect to get recognised so soon, and I think I need some kind of emotional scaffolding to hold me up for a while. Yes please.” Her voice sounded hoarse and cracked. She followed Amelia back to her room, while Rayn went off to do the honours.

  By the time Joe arrived Amelia was feeling much better. She told Sheila that Maddy had explained about her arrival and her difficult past but she wouldn’t let her elaborate on the grounds that it was nobody’s business but hers. Instead, she enjoyed a professional full body massage with some exotic oils, while a simple support sock was placed on her leg which turned out to be just bruised, like the rest of her. It left her impatient to get up, but Sheila, the name she preferred, had insisted on another day of rest.

  She sat in her mother’s carver chair on a rubber swimming ring that Rayn had borrowed from Zac, and watched while Joe sipped his drink. He had declined the coffee but grinned when he was offered brandy. She had sketched in the events of Sunday afternoon and Joe had congratulated himself on his previous suspicions that all was not as it seemed in the Jaxson household.

  “What will she do, Joe?” Amelia asked him. “What’s her next move?”

  “Hey, I’m just an old sea dog. How would I know? I’d be guessing,” he replied.

  “A guess based on a lot of experience and common sense is good enough for me. Anyway, I’ve got no one else to ask. Give it a go, Joe. Give me an idea at least,” she begged him.

  “There’s a lot of information I don’t have. Give me a broad scenario,” he replied.

  “Okay.” She agreed. “There are two groups at war, with a loose cannon in the middle. If one side wins, there’s no prize. If the other side wins, the loose cannon wants the prize for herself. She tried to take out the person who knew what she was up to, but it went wrong. She can’t join the other side either. What will she do next, Joe? I need to know.” Amelia hoped that what she was saying made sense to him, and waited.

  “Put yourself in her place,” he replied. “You can sneak away and build a secret army, ready to pick up the pieces.”

  “That doesn’t sound very logical Joe, do you have any alternatives?”

  “Well how about creating havoc within the other side and force them to make mistakes. That way the prize goes to the side you want and you can worry about it later.”

  “Or you could do both?” suggested Amelia.

  “That would depend on your resources. An army has to be assembled, equipped, fed and trained. It would be almost impossible to keep secret and it would cost a lot of money. I would think the latter is the best option,” he finished.

  “So what do we do? Run and hide? The other side won’t quit, you know.”

  “I don’t know, Amelia.” Joe was getting exasperated. “I’m just guessing. She may not do any of these things. It could be anything. You’ll have to wait and see.”

  “That’s not an option, Joe. It could cost lives,”

  “Yes. People die in a war. Good grief, Amelia, I really thought we were talking hypothetically. What the devil is going on here?”

  “Would you like to come to dinner this evening Joe?” she said and Joe was stunned at her sudden change of tack. His mind was balanced between war and dinner and didn’t know which way to fall.” “I’d love to,” he said finally, “but why?”

  “I think things may be a bit clearer by the time you go home,” Amelia explained. “And I would like very much for you to be there.”

  Rayn came in and told them she would have to kick them out as Nigel was on his way over with the table and chairs they’d borrowed from George at Christmas.

  Joe looked at his watch and stood up. “History,” he said. “Strategic problems, solutions and outcomes. There’s not much going on in the world that hasn’t happened already. Try that.”

  “Got any ideas?” chimed in Rayn, getting his drift.

  “You need to look for yourself. You
know what you need best.”

  “Hey, that’s not fair,” complained Rayn. “There’s a lot more history since you were a kid, you know.”

  Joe laughed at Rayn’s observations. “Okay, I give in. I’ll see if I can dig out something that might help. See you for dinner then.”

  “About seven, Joe. And thanks. You’ve been a great help. Is it okay if we seek your advice again sometime?”

  “What was all that about?” asked Rayn when Joe had left.

  “We’ve lost George and we need a patriarch. A mature male who’s been out and about and knows how the world works,” Amelia answered. “His experiences and insight to possible strategies could be invaluable to us.”

  “I wouldn’t have thought he was in George’s class. Nice as he is,” commented Rayn.

  “Oh, I don’t know. In his own way I think he’ll be quite invaluable. Anyway, we don’t have anybody else, and I like him.”

  Bridie came in with some questions about dinner and Amelia said to do the best she could. “The important thing is, can you manage in there?” she asked her.

  “Oh yeah,” Bridie answered. “Lucy is helping out, and Sheila’s chopping vegetables. You’d better watch that girl. She handles a knife like a pro.”

  Rayn’s eyebrows went up as she looked at Amelia. But they said nothing.

  “Sorry to disturb you Amelia,” said Molly. “I just rang Nigel to tell him about dinner and he asked if it’s okay if he doesn’t come?”

  “Of course it is. It’s not compulsory, you know. Is there a problem?” she answered.

  “Not really. He promised to pick up the boys from school and take them, with Jaz’s boys, over to the gym, then in to town to see the new Alien Ninja’s film, and a pizza afterwards. Apparently he promised them on Sunday after you, er, dashed off. He said it didn’t matter what we would be talking about, as he said he would follow you to the ends of the earth. But then he added that only if me and the twins go with him, bless him! So it looks as though, whatever it is, we’re definitely in. Is that okay?”

  “Molly, I’m so glad to hear you say that. You won’t be sorry, I promise you,” Amelia assured her.

  “Anyone in?” a cheerful voice called, and Lorraine poked her head round the door, her broad grin lit up the room. “Hi, everyone.” she gushed enthusiastically, “Ah, Molly, I’m glad you’re here. It saves me having to find you to tell you my news. Are you feeling any better, Amelia? You look well. How’s your mum?” She stopped and looked at Amelia, Rayn, Sheila and Molly, who were staring at her in open-mouthed silence. “What?” she said.

  “And what’s the weather like on your planet?” asked Rayn.

  “I’m sorry,” she replied. “I’ve been dying to tell you my news, but I’ve had to wait till I finished work. First things first, Amelia, is this anything to do with you? I found it at the bottom of the staircase in the conference room. It’s not ours and it wasn’t there Sunday morning.” She handed a carrier bag to Amelia who pulled out a solid gold facemask. “The dent was already there,” Lorraine told her. “Is it yours?”

  “Rayn!” said Amelia.

  “Amelia!” said Rayn. “Is this what I think it is? I didn’t see it fall off.”

  “I did,” said Amelia. “But it didn’t register at the time.” Her hands were shaking as she held it up to the light. A small dent showed just above the right eye socket.

  “Not a bad throw, really,” said Rayn. “Considering you were in mid-air and falling backwards. I bet she’s got a black eye.”

  “Yes,” Amelia said to Lorraine. “It is ours. Thank you for returning it.” Turning to Rayn, she spoke in a quieter voice “We’d better keep this in our safe place and talk about it later.”

  “Ya voll, mien Fuhrer,” Rayn said as she scooped it up and left the room.

  “I’ll be so glad when she runs out of languages,” muttered Amelia. “One more question, please Lorraine. Where’s Mykl?”

  “Mykl? He’s been in Egypt for the last month. Why?”

  “Does he know about Ryxyl?” she dared herself to ask.

  “Yes, Maddy told him. He’s very upset and on his way back,” said Lorraine.

  Amelia felt an immense sense of relief that he may not be involved and it helped put her mind at ease. Unfortunately, with the memory of his face and his voice, the rest of her body wasn’t so easily appeased and she abruptly changed the subject.

  “So, what’s your news, then Lorraine?” she managed a smile and gave a little cough to clear her throat.

  I’ve been promoted again,” she announced, with a wide grin. “Housekeeper. I’m on first name terms with Maddy and Alyson and I’m virtually my own boss.”

  Molly whooped for joy and gave Lorraine a big hug. Amelia congratulated her and asked about Alyson.

  “She’s gone up, too. She’s Maddy’s PA. Which reminds me, Molly?” she turned to her friend, “Maddy said she would like to see you and Nigel, and could you come up to the Hall tomorrow? She said if you decide to come, don’t dress up and you can join her for lunch.” Lorraine then whispered, unable to contain herself any longer. “I’m not supposed to tell you, but it’s about a job for Nigel. Don’t tell him though.”

  Molly stood very still, but Amelia knew her insides had just exploded with excitement.

  Before she could react, Rayn came in and told them Nigel was outside with a van-load of furniture and needed to hurry to pick up the Ninja Pirates from Ninja Pirate school. Sheila announced she had a long drive home and should get going.

  Everybody was talking at once and Amelia briefly wondered if this was a microcosm of Dr Barrenborn’s life.

  “Wo’up, people!” she called out. “Steady on. Molly, Rayn, please go and help Nigel unload into the coach house drive so that he can get going. Lorraine, this is Sheila, Mum’s new physiotherapist. She’s employed by Maddy on permanent staff and she needs some accommodation for tonight. Any chance of fixing her up?”

  “Sure,” said Lorraine. “Hi Sheila, we weren’t expecting you till next week, but no matter. Welcome. I’ll take you over there now and sort you out a room.”

  “Good. Thank you,” said Amelia. “When you’ve finished, could you both be back here for seven? You’re on the guest list for dinner.”

  Sheila was confused, but thrilled at the invitation. “That’s very kind of you, but I’m not really prepared for…” she said, not wishing to appear too eager.

  “No one ever is, I’m afraid,” interrupted Amelia. “I’m sure Lorraine can lend you a pair of jeans or something. You look about the same size.”

  “Not a problem, Amelia. We’ll be here, don’t worry. We’ll give a hand with the furniture first,” said Lorraine, just as Rayn came in carrying a chair.

  ***

  Dinner finally got going at eight thirty. “Sorry everyone.” Lorraine explained, “My car started to throw up and Joe let me park up at his place. I’ll get it fixed in the morning.

  The assembled guests were relaxed and comfortable after a few drinks, except Joe, who blamed his nervousness on the fact that he was on his own with a bunch of women, and no male back up. The real reason was that Amelia’s talk of war had reawakened some memories he’d rather not have.

  Under Lucy’s direction and Bridie’s passion, the table was a masterpiece, with flowers from the greenhouse and polished glassware. The salad was a little weird, but pleasant, and when Sheila tasted the stroganoff she said there should be a law preventing food from tasting so good.

  The conversation remained lively, with Rayn and Bridie’s indomitable humour maintaining the flow of laughter. Rayn noticed that there were no ashtrays on the table and resigned herself to a long evening. Amelia called for everyone’s attention and asked her mother to lead a toast to ‘Old George and Gabrielle Orugo’. The mood sobered and afterwards she explained that Rayn was going to tell them exactly what happened on Sunday.

  “It will be highly exaggerated, I expect. But informative as well as entertaining. You’ll probably have questions, but p
lease wait till she’s finished. Rayn?”

  Rayn plunged into a story worthy of the Booker Prize. She started with the meeting in the woods, had everyone in stitches with Amelia’s equestrian episode with her backside hanging out and really went to town on the fight itself.

  “I find Amelia’s backward somersault with a half twist while throwing a knife a bit hard to believe,” commented a still laughing Sheila, when Rayn had finished.

  “Oh,” said Molly. “She’s well able to do that, don’t you worry.” When things calmed down, Amelia sprung the trap, having prearranged the scenario with Rayn for maximum impact.

  “That was very entertaining, but please remember, two people have died. Ryxyl wants to kill my mother, and Rayn and I were fighting for our lives. The question is, why? I’d like to hear your thoughts on the subject please.” The room was packed with shocked silence at Amelia’s request, and the enormity of the situation became clear. “Joe, what do you think?” Amelia asked him.

  Joe coughed away his hesitation. “Well, most crimes are committed in favour of money, greed or control, not forgetting love, but I don’t think that applies here. So it’s obvious that this Ryxyl character wants something you have pretty badly.”

  “Yeah,” agreed Molly, surprising everyone. “And if that mask you described is real gold then it’s not money she’s after.”

  “If it was Maddy she was after,” added Lorraine, “I’d say she was after the estate or something, but what could she gain by killing you Lucy?”

  “I’ve no idea.” Lied Lucy, glaring at her daughter for starting all this. “Amelia, be careful, this is too much too soon.”

  “No it’s not mum; I’ve got Maddy’s approval. We’ve agreed a truce between us and decided we have to move forward, and the time is right.” Before anyone could speak, Amelia followed up her question with the bad news. “In the very near future, within our life time, the human race could become almost extinct,” she announced. “With any survivors finding themselves in a new stone age.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  A terrifying silence encompassed the room. The four guests were rendered emotionally impotent. Molly’s eyes were like saucers and a tear ran down her cheek. Lorraine had turned to stone. Sheila looked as if she was waiting for the punch line and Joe gave a disbelieving laugh. For years Lucy and Bridie had known, and that this information was on a need to know basis, both were unsure at how it would be treated on the ‘open market’.