Darling, There Are Wolves in the Woods

by Lydia Russell

  “It'll be your birthday soon,” She paused and caught my eye, her mouth forming a tired smile.

  “And?”

  “I wondered if you wanted to do anything special? You'll be twenty-one.”

  I watched as the bubbling cheese swirled into the red sauce, the layers of pasta congealing as it slowly cooled to a sticky brown mess. “What did you have in mind?”

  Mum moved her fork to her mouth, wincing slightly as the cheese burnt her lips. She didn't wait to swallow before she answered me.

  “Anything, Teya. Maybe you would like to go out for dinner? Somewhere nice, invite some friends and have a great night...”

  “I don't have any friends.” I cut her off, my eyes fixed on the red blob stuck to her bottom lip, watching as it bobbed up and down every time she spoke.

  “You've got to have someone,” she replied, and the blob slid off her mouth, trailing down her chin and falling back onto her plate. I watched as she scooped it back up with her fork, and shoved it back into her mouth. “No one is that lonely.”

  I bit my lip to stop the torrent of things I wanted to yell at her, staring down at my plate of uneaten food.

  “So?” she pressed. “What do you say? Shall I book somewhere?”

  I swallowed and looked up. My mother's eyes were beseeching, shining with a vain hope that maybe she could fill a gap that over the years had become cavernous.

  “Okay.” I pushed the words through gritted teeth. “Let's have dinner, but don't go overboard and book something too fancy. It'll just be the four of us.”

  “Four?”

  Something inside me snapped, an instant uncoiling of hurt and frustration that felt so good in the moment, but left me empty and broken after. "Just you and me..."

  “Teya.”

  I glared at her as I swept my hand in a gesture over the two empty chairs, their places perfectly set. “...Niven and Dad. Just family.”

  I ignored the spasm of guilt as my mother's face darted to the vacated spaces, before finally settling on me as I made to storm out.

  “Please, Teya.”

  Grabbing at one of the clean plates from the table, I flung it against the wall where it shattered with an encouraging smash. I snatched up the other just as mum's fingers swept across it, desperate to save it. It hit the wall like the other, crashing against the wallpaper before landing in unfixable pieces on the floor.

  “I'm that lonely!” I screamed at her, closing my eyes against the pathetic look on her face. She turned away from me, and calmly without a word she moved over to the shattered plates and begun to clear them away.

  “It's okay Teya. Don't worry about it; I'll get some more tomorrow. It's okay.”

  My hands darted to my mouth as I desperately tried to force down the sob that tried to break free. I turned away from her, and bolted upstairs. I knew I wouldn't be disturbed in my room by mum. Oh, no, I would be left until the morning where we would both pretend that nothing had happened. I would eat my breakfast, and so would she, and we would be joined by two bowls that continued to remain empty.

  Later that night as I reached to turn off my lamp, I fought my usual urge to check under the bed for monsters, or in the cupboards for ghouls. Partly because I knew I was far too old to believe in bogeymen, but mostly because I was terrified that I might actually find something.

  My dad had always been the one to chase the imaginary monsters from under bed, all with just a wordless lullaby at his lips. It had been a soft, sweet tune that had been passed down from his mother from her grandmother, for generations. It was an old song, and because I had never found monsters in my room, I believed it really worked. Though that fateful day, so long ago, that same tune had been tingling at my lips, and still the monsters had come.

  Closing my eyes against the darkness, I waited for sleep to come. Dreading it...needing it, fearing the crippling nightmares as much as I hoped for them. I slipped into sleep easier than I thought, turning my back against the heavily curtained window on the far wall. They always remained closed, no matter what light shone from behind them. It blocked out the view of the silhouetted trees, and the beautiful creatures I knew danced under their enchanted boughs.

  Chapter Three

  The nightmare flowed like a river through my sleep, dark and cold and oh so frighteningly real. Music played on, a haunting melody that forced the feet to move when the heart and soul forbade it. Within the darkness, the monsters danced. A flash of fang, of horn, of skin and naked breast, as they moved they sang, and the shadows joined them. The trees followed as did the wind, while shards of light skipped down through the leaves, all of them swaying to a song that carried like a whisper and stayed like death.

  Niven twirled like a dervish, frenzied in the hands of beasts and beautiful creatures with cold eyes and colder hearts. She smiled, I wept. She cavorted.

  I wouldn't...

  ...couldn't.

  Laughter joined the melody, enriching it further with the sound of folly and carelessness, bewitching the woods with notes that were almost tangible. The pace quickened, the fey a blur beneath the swaying oaks. Laughter turned to shouts and jeers, a wild call that was as feral as it was beautiful, echoing across the woodland in a cacophony of fear and wonder.

  Music played on...

  ...as did the song...

  ...the singing and calling and crying and shouting...

  Until...

  ...it stopped.

  The trees ceased their manic sway, and the wind grew quiet, leaving nothing behind but the dark beauty that crept beside me and tasted my tears.

  I woke with the threat of my cry against my lips, swallowed quickly down before it could truly surface. It was always the same nightmare, the same dancing, the same song...always watching as they took away my sister, while I did nothing. Repetition did nothing to quell the sense of hopelessness and fear it left behind.

  With a quick, scribbled note to mum I left, noting that the plates had been washed and stacked on the draining board in the kitchen. The shards of broken china had been bagged up and thrown in the bin along with my uneaten lasagne, everything was neat and tidy, everything put back in its place. The events of the night before had been carefully swept beneath the mounds of all the other unwanted memories. It really was a marvel that we both hadn't been committed.

  The early morning chill bit against my skin, and despite the heavy coat I wore it still managed to creep under the layers of wool, making me shiver. The sky was cloudless; an endless span of whisper pale blue, lit by an October sun that gave out only weak light and no warmth. Mist curled up around the distant hills, flooding over the fields past the nearby houses, to coil around the naked trees that lined the road.

  The village of Hazelminster lay deep within the Dorset Downs, nestled neatly between many villages, hamlets and winding lanes that seemed to lead nowhere. Fog and mist always descended upon it like a blanket, concealing it. It was always somewhat charming when I was younger...almost magical, until I discovered what was beneath the ethereal tendrils of winter morning mist.

  Perhaps it was morbid curiosity, or simple stupidity that I found myself standing under the looming shadows of the old oak trees that morning. The dilapidated wooden fence the only barrier between me and the woods I hadn't stepped foot in since I was eleven. There was a stile further down the fence, leading onto a winding path that cut through the woods and down into the fields that lay beyond them. Come spring there would be a cascade of beautiful bluebells under the treetops, and daffodils would huddle along the entire length of the fence.

  Even then, with winter nipping at my toes, I could hear the early morning dog walkers deep in the thicket. The excited yelps of those lucky enough to be allowed off the lead echoed back at me, no fear in their throats as they bounded under the branches. It was a place just like any other, not so different from the hundreds of other woodlands that graced the country. Even my mother walked through sometimes, finding some short-lived peace in treading the last steps that Niven had take
n. It seemed that it was only me who could sense the sinister nature of that patch of earth, who could hear the hushed voices of the trees as the wind whispered past.

  Gripping my coat tighter, I swung my leg over the fence and hopped down the other side. Instantly my feet were lost in the cold mist that swirled around my ankles, though I could feel the knots of ivy that snaked out from trees beneath my shoes. I took three big steps forwards, feeling the unpleasant sensation in my chest as it started to tighten. My heart slammed inside me. My fear threatened to choke me. With sweating palms, I reached out to the ancient branches in front of me, daring myself to touch them and see them for what they really were...trees.

  Glancing back over my shoulder, I breathed a sigh of relief to see the fence just yards away from where I was standing. It wasn't too far away, the wire netting below the wooden railing tatty from too many sheep trying to nibble their way through. It was built to keep the sheep from going into the woodland, I reminded myself, not for keeping the faeries in. With my head held high I strode past the trees, ducking past strings of ivy to clamber over the rotting corpses of fallen oaks. The sweet smell of mulch and forest spice filled my nose as I walked, the chill of the unrelenting wind dug in a little deeper, and I shivered.

  I stopped walking when I reached a small clearing, the hazy sun above filtered down through bare branches, causing the shadows to coil around my feet. I closed my eyes, and for just a moment I could see Them, holding my sister as they pulled her away from me. I remembered the glimmer of iridescent wing, the flash of sharp teeth, the sound of impossible song too enchanting to exist in any world but Theirs. Niven had joined so willingly. Completely charmed by beautiful strangers, she had fallen into their arms with abandon.

  I opened my eyes to the sound of nothing...

  No wind, no biting chill, no dancing shadows. The echoes of the early morning dog-walkers had gone with the whispers in the trees. There was nothing but stillness, as if everything around me was holding its breath and waiting.

  Watching.

  Fear snaked up my body, constricting around my throat so I could hardly breathe, crushing any hope of a decent scream erupting from my mouth. The cracking of twigs underfoot echoed lightly as I stepped back, crashing through the silence as if an entire tree had fallen. I didn't know why I had come. Perhaps a part of me wanted to see a flash of perfection that would prove to me that They were real, that They still lingered out there somewhere. Perhaps I wanted to feel the same tiny glimmer of hope my mother felt, believing that despite the odds, Niven was out there and safe.

  The fragment of hope I grasped at didn't come, but the growing fear that maybe...just maybe, something out there was watching me, clutched painfully at my chest. Stepping back, I scanned the trees for signs of movement, but even the wind had not picked up to stir the bare arms of the oaks above me.

  I ran.

  The forest mulch squelched beneath my shoes as I darted back to the fence without once looking behind me. Throwing my hands out in front, I grabbed the wood and hauled myself over it in a shockingly graceful jump, feeling splinters break off and bury under my skin.

  Pressing my hand over my chest, I felt my heart race. My heaving breaths blew out in clouds, and my lungs ached from the cold air I was sucking back in. I clutched at the fence as my legs wobbled, grimacing as I felt the sharp splinters dig further into my palms.

  “You alright there, love?”

  My head snapped up to the left, locking eyes with the old man who worked in the local shop. Beside him sat his fat Labrador, muzzle streaked through with blades of grey showing he was as ancient as his master.

  “Spot of asthma?” he continued, stepping towards me. “My granddaughter has it, I think you know her, little Matilda?”

  I swallowed and stood straight, forcing a smile onto my face as the old man chatted to me. “I know Matilda. She's just got a new puppy; she walks it past our house every afternoon.”

  “Ah, that'll be her. New puppy yes...yappy little bugger. You caught your breath yet?”

  “I'm fine,” I replied politely, moving away from the fence and therefore the barren woodland I had just fled from.

  “You take care then.” He tipped his flat cap at me, and slapped his thigh gently, calling the dog to his heel. I watched as he walked on, chatting happily to his four legged friend.

  I slumped back home, knowing Mum would have left for work and that I would have the house to myself. She worked a full day on Thursdays as a receptionist at the doctor's surgery, and she usually stayed on later to catch up on the village gossip with her friend Margery.

  My footsteps left little footprints on the frigid ground, exposing the lush green beneath that was crying out for winter to end. I liked it. The cold, broken season that left everything in its wake shivering and barren. There was always fragility to the world beneath the ice and snow, one that was not always apparent with the rumours of spring.

  Once home, I tossed my keys onto the hall table, closing the door behind me quickly to lock out the cold that was trying to push past me. Shrugging off my coat, I hung it up and made to go upstairs, but my foot had barely touched the second step before I heard my mother shout at me from the living room. My heart sank.

  “Teya? Is that you?”

  “Of course it is! Since I am the only other person with a set of keys to this house.”

  I walked into the living room, jumping back slightly as Mum leapt off the sofa towards me.

  “Where the hell have you been?”

  “I went for a walk...”

  I stopped talking at the look on her face, noticing the red rims around her eyes, and the crinkles in her once neatly ironed blouse. It looked as if she had been wringing it.

  “I called your mobile and you didn't answer. I rang college and they said you hadn't showed up.”

  “I forgot my phone...”

  “Where were you walking?”

  I shrugged, and sat back into one of the armchairs. “Nowhere really.”

  “In the woods? You were walking in the woods, weren't you?”

  “So?” I snapped back. “You go walking up there all the time, and I don't snipe at you.”

  “You've not stepped foot up there since...”

  I curled my lip as she failed to finish her sentence, and we both stared at each other for a moment. More tears leaked up over her eyes and trickled shamelessly over her cheeks.

  “Seriously, what is the matter? I didn't go to College. I am an adult, not a child bunking off school.”

  “This is the matter!”

  She shoved the piece of crumpled paper under my nose, her voice rising to an unpleasant octave as I snatched the note from her.

  “I left this for you this morning,” I said, confused at the anger she was launching my way.

  “I thought...I thought, for God’s sake, Teya, can't you see how this looks?”

  I glanced down at my writing, the black letters spidery on the white page linked together in my usual messy scrawl.

  Sorry for last night, it was out of order and I lost my temper. I guess I'm still struggling. It's just been too long since I felt much of anything, I can't keep shoving these feelings down and hope they go away. That's not how life works. Forgive me?

  Love Teya. Xxx

  P.s. I won't need a lift home tonight. ☺

  I waved the note back at my mother, my mouth opening and closing in disbelief. My tongue stumbled over the words it wanted to snap at her.

  “You thought this was a suicide note?” I pushed through gritted teeth, rising from the chair to face her.

  “That's what it looks like.”

  I threw the note at her, watching as it floated pathetically to the floor, and wished I had balled it up first. “You think I would put a smiley face at the end of my suicide note?”

  “You have a funny sense of humour, Teya.”

  I choked.

  “I should bloody well think so too! Living all these years with you, you crazy woman! It really is a won
der that I've managed to put up with you for so long, why after all this time I haven't done myself in. Wrapping creepy presents for people who aren't around to open them, setting places for your dinner party of the macabre! They are never coming home! One of these days you have to accept that in the end, everyone will leave you!”

  The palm of her hand forced my head to the side, the sound of skin slapping skin cut through the silence my rant had left behind.

  “I received a phone call this morning,” Mum said quietly.

  “Oh?”

  “I've been trying to get hold of you, Teya. He killed himself last night, and I thought you had done the same. Your dad hanged himself and I couldn't find you!”

  My eyes flickered to hers, my heart pausing for just a moment as her words began to penetrate, hurting so much more than her slap had.

  “No...”

  Mum said nothing as she wrapped her arms around me, stroking back my hair as I wept into her shoulder. In the very back of my mind, I had always hoped that one day he would come back to us. Return to tie up the broken strands of our family so we could move on together, finding some comfort in each other, I knew Mum felt the same and I knew deep down that she had yet to give up hope of him returning. You didn't set the table for four people you knew were never showing up.

  I guessed it was one less imaginary mouth to feed.

  Chapter Four

  I sat next to mum in the car, taking her hand in mine as she gazed out of the window at the blue skies. I wondered if she too was wishing that it rained. We pulled up to the church far too quickly, and I had to force myself to get out and step into the bitterly cold graveyard. Most of the mourners had already gone inside, most likely to escape the cold, but I watched as a few more trickled past. I didn't know them.

  They gave Mum and me sad smiles as they walked by, wanting to share in the grief that I was not sure I really felt. I didn't know the man in the coffin. Dad had kept to himself, choosing a life of loneliness and misery, rather than sharing it with his long-suffering family.