“Mother!” I exclaimed, watching as she took a cigarette from her purse, lighting it before taking a satisfied drag.
“Well, obviously I can't smoke in the church dear, I'm just having one for my nerves. It's going to be a trying day.”
“I hear lung cancer can be awfully trying too.”
Mum sucked on her cigarette like an oxygen mask, before dropping it underfoot and stubbing it out with the heel of her shoe.
“Wonderful,” I muttered. Mum shrugged.
I knew about half the people who had turned up, and even those were relatives that we barely spoke to. I felt like a stranger at my own father's funeral.
We entered the church together, our footsteps echoing loudly on the flagstones beneath us, sounding almost loud enough to wake the dead. Though not quite. I felt fraudulent sitting in the front pews reserved for his closest family, almost as if I were intruding on someone else's funeral.
To know that after so many years, we were still his closest family was heartbreaking.
Whilst I sat there listening to the vicar talk about what a wonderful person my father was, I hummed to myself. The wordless lullaby vibrated almost silently against my lips, so quiet that no one else could hear me. I no longer believed in the magical powers it was supposed to have, I simply wanted to sing it for my Dad.
We both watched with a growing numbness as they lowered the coffin into the ground, remaining silent as we tossed roses into the hole. Afterwards mum clung to my hand as we made our way out of the churchyard and down the lane to the local pub, I didn't pull away.
“I loved that man,” Mum said finally, stroking my fingers as we walked down the winding path that led to the Rose and Crown.
“We both did, Mum. I just don't think it was enough for him.”
She stopped suddenly, jolting my hand back before crushing me in a powerful embrace. She rarely hugged me anymore, and it made me more than a little uncomfortable.
“You will fall in love one day, sweetheart,” she breathed against my cheek. “Make it enough for him.”
I smiled genuinely against her, enjoying the comforting mix of smoke and perfume that could only belong to her. “Is this where you tell me no man is worth my tears?”
Mum unfurled herself from me and dabbed at her eyes, I raised my finger to wipe away the smudge of mascara that had bled down against her cheekbone.
“Wouldn't that make life easier? But no, Teya, that would be a lie. Love is painful, and when it is at its very best, it's excruciating. You are not really in love unless your heart aches and your body wishes it to stop, but your very soul refuses to let go.”
I kicked at the little stones dotted along the pathway, not knowing what to say next. I had to wonder if that was how she had always felt about my father, with her heart beating only for him, as her rational sense begged her to move on. With a sigh I reached for her hand, continuing the short walk to the pub.
The Rose and Crown was a grotty place, with water stains on the ceiling, and beer stains on the carpets. My shoes made soft squelching noises as I walked to get drinks. The stools along the edge of the bar were threadbare with their stuffing leaking out, standing motionless like gutted pigs.
“Two Vodka Lemonades, please.” The barmaid poured my drinks with only a fleeting glance at me. Fumbling through my purse, I handed her the money and waited for my change, grinding my teeth as she clicked her black nails along the counter. I took my change with one hand and poured the vodka down my throat with the other, enjoying the burn it left behind.
“You're Teya, aren't you?” a woman asked, stepping up to the bar. She looked to be in her early thirties with ash-blonde hair that was cut just a little too severely for her face. “I'm Cathy; I used to work with Jack.”
I smiled politely at her, noting her red rimmed eyes. “I used to be his daughter.”
Her eyes widened, a flush spreading across her cheeks. “I know...I'm sorry for your loss. He was a good man.”
I winced. “I'm sure he was.”
Cathy placed a hand on my arm, a gentle squeeze that took every ounce of strength I had not to flinch away from. “He never told me he had a daughter.”
“He used to have two.”
Her blush deepened. “I didn't know, I am sorry.”
“It's okay,” I said, relieved that she was no longer touching me. “I mean, it's not okay, but I understand why he wouldn't tell anyone. You knew a different Jack than me.”
“Can I get you another drink?” Cathy offered, relief relaxing her face. “Not that I'm recommending you drown your sorrows in vodka.”
I smiled, accepting her offer. “You can't drown misery, it won't die, but a drink would be great all the same.”
I left Cathy at the bar and walked over to where Mum was sitting, huddled with a few relatives that were all staring at me. Clear liquid sloshed onto the table as I jolted the drinks down, I sat beside Mum and stared into my lap, feeling the heat of everyone's gaze bear down on me. I busied myself by going through my bag, calming my breathing by counting out its contents that, no matter where I went, always stayed the same. One purse, one chewed Biro, a shockingly old hairbrush, three tampons, my phone and a loyalty card for a free coffee with six more stamps to go.
My lips twitched slightly as I thumbed over the small zipped compartment, where lying in wait beneath some old receipts was a condom. It had been forced upon me by Mum, despite my assurances that I wouldn't need it for the near future. I did not have a boyfriend. I had never had a boyfriend. I was still waiting for my first kiss, but Mum wasn't having any of it. So I kept it with me, a sad reminder every time I opened my bag that no one really wanted me.
“Will you fetch me some sandwiches, sweetheart?” Mum asked, breaking away briefly from her conversation with Mrs Dustin, our next-door neighbour. Shrugging, I swallowed the last of my drink and moved to the sad table in the corner where the buffet was laid out. Someone had spilled their drink down the paper tablecloth, causing it to rip and hang down in a pulpy mess over the fake wood. I grabbed a paper plate and gazed over the spread of soggy sandwiches and stale crisps, shaking my head at the paper doilies that were scattered over the table in a poor attempt to add some class. I bundled a few egg and cress rolls on top of a ham and pickle sandwich, took a handful of crisps and a few very anaemic looking sausage rolls. I decided to avoid the shiny, slightly mottled cocktail sausages like the plague. I picked up a slice of pizza for myself and watched as the napkin soaked up the excess grease like a sponge. I left it on the table and slumped back to Mum.
“Are you not eating anything?”
“If I found something edible, I would eat something.”
Mum glanced away from her food to give me a look, eyebrows disappearing into her hairline as she silently begged me not to make a scene. “Go get yourself another drink, and one for me.”
She slid a note across the table, and I silently took it and pushed my way through to the bar.
“I'm so sorry about your father, Teya.”
I glanced up from my drink, watching as some cousin I faintly recognised sidled up to me. I said nothing, wondering why people wouldn't leave me alone.
“Our family prayed for Niven to come home, we really did. The loss of a child is unbearable, unthinkable. We never gave up hope that she would be found, maybe... if perhaps there had been some trace of Niven, some answers...closure.”
I snorted into my glass, relieved that I wasn't the only one that thought Niven would have been better off dead. Maybe we could have all coped with that.
My cousin Maria stayed beside me and for a brief, uncomfortable moment, she placed her hand upon my arm, on the exact spot where Cathy had rested hers.
"If you ever need to talk, Teya..."
I shrugged off her arm, gulping back a large mouthful of Mum’s drink. “Oh? So where have you and the rest of this miserable family been for the past ten years?”
Maria opened her mouth to say something, and I noticed she had lipstick smeared across her
two top teeth. “I...”
“You abandoned us, Maria, just like Dad did,”
“I'm so sorry,” she said, repeating the phrase I had been hearing a lot of, the words becoming meaningless. “You're right; we should have been there for you both. We didn't know what to say, what to do.”
I shook my head, sighing. “There was nothing you could do. It's not your fault Maria.”
“It's not yours either,” she said softly. “You know that, right?”
I eyed up Maria's drink on the bar, giving her a small smile as I reached for it and swallowed it back. She grimaced.
“That was a whiskey for my Pops.”
“Order him another on me,” I coughed, giving her the change I had in my hand. I started to walk away, but she caught my arm.
“Don't blame yourself, Teya. That's what your dad did, it won't help anyone.”
I nodded, pulling away and feeling the floor beneath my feet wobble. “It's a little bit my fault.”
I walked away and stepped outside, feeling the cold air against my too hot cheeks. It was getting dark, the winter sun sinking early behind the hills, setting the sky on fire before the frost crept in.
I was going to sit at one of the benches and clear my head, but I carried on walking instead, my mind numb. There was a part of me, deep, deep down that wished I had turned back to the pub and continued eating dinner with ghosts. That small part of me wanted nothing more than to wake up in the morning with a hangover, and the relief that I wasn't completely insane. It was easy, safe, and strangely comfortable.
But I didn't go home, I went into those woods.
Chapter Five
I stood against the fence and stared through the dark shadows, standing still with the absence of breeze, and waited. Goosebumps prickled against my arms, and something deep inside remembered the cold, making me shiver. I had left my coat behind with mum, and the frigid wind bit through the black silk of my dress with razor sharp teeth. It was nothing less than a miracle that I didn't succumb to hyperthermia. After so many years of fearing the woods and the monsters within, I thought how anticlimactic it would be to die from my own stupidity.
I clambered over the fence with very little grace, landing in an undignified heap on the other side with my dress crumpling high around my thighs. As I stood, I felt the silk catch on a nail in the rough wood, and I closed my eyes as the fabric split revealing the hem of my black knickers. Standing at the edge of the woods, I took in a shaking, furious breath and shouted.
“You did this to me! I'm wearing this because of you!” I jumped as my echo screamed back, but spurred on by anger, I stepped forward. A bitterness clouded over the fear that usually bubbled through me when I glimpsed those trees, an unpalatable blend of hate, guilt and loss finally set free amongst the waiting trees.
“Can you hear me?” I screeched. “Why didn't you take me?”
The trees began to sway as the wind picked up, the whole wood suddenly moved as if taking a breath. It carried with it no beautiful voices, no answers to my questions, only my echo as it faded through the branches.
“You had me!” I continued, as my breath caught. Angry tears burned against my eyes, and I dashed them away quickly before they could fall. “Why wasn't I enough for you?”
I choked on a sob, and rested my back against one of the oaks, feeling memories flood me as I remembered taking Niven's hand and leading her into the woods. I sincerely doubted whether all the substances in the world could dull the ever presence of my guilt.
“I need my sister back,” I breathed, hating myself for not saying I wanted her back. My voice had barely carried past my lips, and therefore it did not echo. There was nothing around me but quiet.
Silence.
Even the wind, for just a moment stopped screaming and the trees became still. My anger faded as quickly as it had come, leaving me trembling. I was alone in the darkness, my pounding heart the only sound.
I nearly ran home.
I came so...so close to running home.
Every muscle in my body ached as I braced myself against the urge to flee.
I could taste the coppery tang of blood in my mouth as I bit my lip so hard it bled. I stood still, peering into the black, allowing the spicy scent of fallen leaves to fill my senses. I took a step forward, pressing my hand against a low branch to steady myself, while reaching out to grasp another branch with the other. Slowly I dragged myself deeper into the trees, forcing my protesting body onwards until I could no longer see a way out. I was surrounded by woodland, completely lost within its darkness, and the only thing I could hear was my own voice inside my head telling me what a fool I was. My drink-induced bravery was fast wearing off, leaving me alone with a swirling sick feeling in my stomach. I lowered myself onto the log of a fallen tree, feeling the moss damp against my legs, and closed my eyes.
When I opened them again it was staring at me.
A naked, thin creature had perched itself two feet away from where I was sitting. Its huge eyes were an unnerving black, and seemed to shine despite the darkness. It watched me stare, cocking its long neck to the side. As if it sensed I was no danger, it crawled closer, stretching its rake thin body over the ground, clawing at the earth as it moved.
“Jesus,” I muttered, slowly pushing myself up from the log as I braced myself to run. The log refused to take my weight, and my fingers crumbled through the ancient wood, my hand swallowed by the rotting hole. I swore loudly and the creature, just inches away from my face recoiled like a snake. It rocked back and forth, drawing its blue-grey lips over its teeth, and hissed.
Frantic, I tugged at my hand but the log refused to surrender and I remained stuck. The imp-like thing remained where it was and smiled at me, revealing a mouthful of needle like teeth. I watched as it leant back upon its haunches, widened its mouth and let out an oddly beautiful cry. Its head snapped back to me the instant the echo died away, tossing its blanket of silvery hair over its shoulder, revealing the surreal womanly body that was hidden beneath it. There was haunting, strange and delicate beauty about her, a wild thing...feral.
She inched closer to me, and I could only look on dumbly with my heart crashing against my ribcage. From the cold smile on her face, I knew she could hear it. Sweet, cloying breath swept over my skin as she leant over me, tracing my cheek with her fingertips. Her touch was like ice, and I suddenly knew what it felt like to be touched by something with no soul. She moved her hand to mine, wrenching it from the decaying wood with such force that the jagged splinters tore at my skin.
"Ow! Christ!" I snapped through gritted teeth, watching as blood pooled to the surface of my arm, and trickled down. Her head turned down to my hand, still grasped in her own, and she watched as red slithered down over my fingertips. She licked her lips.
“Lily!”
Her head spun around to stare into the shadows; I followed her gaze but could only make out the faint outline of the trees in the darkness.
“Drop it.”
She snatched her hand back, her long fingernails grazing my skin as she did so. She snarled at me before she skulked back towards the shadows, to where the voice continued to call to her. I stood up, brushing off the moss that covered my dress, and scanned the tree line. I knew something else was out there, and I didn't like not knowing where it was. Nothing moved within the shadows, nothing disturbed the undergrowth...I swore that nothing was behind me until I felt the hand upon my shoulder.
“Did I frighten you?”
I jumped about a foot in the air, my scream echoing back at me, breaking the silence with the sound of my terror. I scrambled away, forgetting the old log that was directly behind me and flew backward over it. I landed in a heap, instantly tangled in the knotted strings of ivy that covered the floor. I looked up, and for a moment every coherent thought vanished from my mind, leaving me slack-jawed and dumb.
I knew he wasn't human; no human could have looked like he did...so utterly beautiful that he made Luthien herself look plain. His eyes were
deep violet, framed with thick dark lashes that were striking against his pale skin, and they were ageless. He looked as if he lingered in his late twenties...but those eyes betrayed that apparent youth, and I didn't wish to take a guess at how many years they were hiding. Dark hair curled against the nape of his neck, not quite black, but a vast hue of browns, golds and espresso blending against each other to create a colour I had no name for. The wind caught the midnight strands, lifting them away from his face to reveal delicately pointed ears. He towered over me, lean and strong and agile, his full mouth twisted into something almost like a smile...though not quite. My heart hammered away within my chest, and he tilted his head, lips curving as he listened.
I knew that I was staring, I knew I was staring with my mouth open, but my brain had all but melted and I could do nothing about it.
“Are you lost?” he asked, his voice soft with a hint of an accent I couldn't quite place. “You seem like you are to me.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out. I could do nothing but reach for his hand as he held it out to me, helping me to my feet.
“I'm not lost,” I said, finally finding my tongue, and kick starting my brain. “I know where I'm going.”
“Do you now?” he replied, keeping hold of me.
“I need to go through the woods, I need to get something back.” I wanted to pull my hand back, but something told me that he wouldn't let me go if I tried.
“What are you looking for?”
“Something that was taken from me.”
“Why don't you go home instead?” He let go of my hand and shoved me in the direction I had just walked. “Keep going and stay on the path.”
He pressed against the small of my back, I could feel his fingers through the thin fabric of my dress. Despite myself, I leant into his touch and with little force, he pushed back and I stumbled.
His voice was soft and warm. A gentle lull to it made me want to please him...as if everything he said was solely to help me, to keep me safe. His words enticed a heaviness in my mind, a fog that dulled everything else, erasing the fear with a whispered word. Like an obedient pup, I placed one foot in front of the other and began to walk away.
Darling, There Are Wolves in the Woods Page 3