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Poison Heart

Page 21

by S. B. Hayes


  ‘That’s what did happen,’ he brooded. ‘I kept refining bits here and there … right up to the day I showed it to you and—’

  ‘It wasn’t finished weeks ago?’ I interrupted.

  ‘No … I never rush my work.’ He made a circle with his hands. ‘It’s a gradual evolving of a theme, and sometimes it takes on a life of its own.’

  It did in this case, I thought morosely, but I remained silent, wondering whether to believe him or not. I was annoyed with myself that I so wanted to believe him.

  ‘Katy … one minute I was looking at your almost completed portrait, and then you were in my studio looking confused and shocked. After you left … it slowly dawned on me why.’

  I smiled politely and blinked several times. ‘Maybe your subconscious was at work … guiding your hand. Secretly you wanted to be with Genevieve …’

  He shook his head. ‘I didn’t, and it wasn’t her I painted. I wish I could make you believe me.’

  ‘Why’s it so important, Merlin?’

  ‘The truth’s always important,’ he answered, and I refused to look at him because he sounded so sincere. He hung his head. ‘You and Genevieve are an enigma,’ he complained. ‘Whenever I think I’m getting close I discover you’re a million light years away from me.’

  I closed my eyes for a second because this was exactly how I felt about him.

  ‘You’re with Genevieve now,’ I had to point out. ‘She can’t be that much of a mystery.’

  Merlin shook his head almost in despair. ‘She was always there, Katy, and you were always … somewhere else.’

  I looked him straight in the eye. ‘But … it doesn’t matter any more.’ I was overcome by the knowledge that this was the truth. I didn’t think we could ever mean anything to each other again. Meeting Merlin this way felt like saying goodbye to a part of me.

  ‘So, Katy … are we OK now?’

  ‘Of course.’

  He jerked his head as if to wake himself up. ‘Genevieve asked me to show you a new design competition on the web. The prize is a week’s work experience at one of the big fashion houses.’

  I tried not to sound ungrateful. ‘The details will be in college. Miss Clegg always puts them on the noticeboard.’

  ‘Genevieve said this one was extra-special and no one else would find out about it.’ He turned the laptop to face me. ‘She’s stored it on favourites: “For Katy’s Eyes Only”.’

  I sucked in my cheeks, outraged at Genevieve’s nerve, and clicked on the link, waiting for the screen to change.

  ‘Slow connection?’ He smiled as my face froze in sheer disbelief. I felt as though the floor was opening up beneath me and I was sinking into a black hole. I stared for as long as I dared, my eyes reading the text again and again, hoping I’d misinterpreted the meaning. I got up quickly.

  ‘Merlin, I have to go. Something’s come up.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong, is there?’

  ‘No … I just need to get home. Probably … see you around.’

  ‘It might be sooner than you think,’ he joked, but I was too upset to respond.

  I think I must have beaten the record for running a mile and texting at the same time. I didn’t slow down until my street sign came into view. My heart was thumping and there was a nagging stitch in my side. I slumped against a wall feeling sick with anxiety and exhaustion. Luke’s car was outside his house, and I was relieved because I had to tell him what Genevieve had wanted me to see. His mum answered the door and my voice was breathlessly high-pitched.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Cassidy. Is Luke around?’

  ‘Sorry, Katy. He’s taken Laura into town for a celebration.’

  I was overwhelmed with crushing disappointment. ‘Is it her birthday?’

  Her whole face lit up. ‘No, it’s their anniversary. Three whole years.’

  ‘Oh, wow, that’s amazing.’

  ‘That’s probably why his phone’s off.’ She winked at me. ‘They might not want to be disturbed.’

  I was mortified. ‘No … yes … of course they don’t. I wouldn’t dream of it.’

  ‘Was it important, Katy?’ she called after me.

  ‘No, it wasn’t anything really. I’ll … er … catch up with him tomorrow.’

  There was nothing to do but wait until morning. There was no one else who could possibly understand this new development. I hated myself for needing Luke so badly and tried to shut him from my mind, but it wasn’t possible. I lay awake listening to the wind howling and blowing my curtains through the rotten frames. Slowly I took the photograph of Luke and me out of my drawer and held it up to the light. Each time, it surprised me more. I carefully put it back, not sure why I’d even kept it.

  I can feel the heat even in my sleep. I’m back at the decrepit house but this time helpless, unable to go further than the porch. I’m forced to watch as Genevieve throws a match and the flames spread, the staircase cracking and splintering like tinder. She walks through the fire unharmed, hovering at least a metre above the ground. The only way I’ll be saved is to go with her. I don’t want to, but there’s no choice. She holds out her hand and I step towards her, our two figures merging to become one. Her thoughts become my thoughts. She takes me to the city square to gaze at the hangman’s noose suspended from a gibbet, framed against the burned-orange night sky.

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-THREE

  It sounded like a shower of hailstones, lightly hitting my bedroom window and then growing heavier. I was hovering between sleep and being awake, but it took me ages to realize that the pattern was all wrong and someone was actually throwing stones at the pane.

  Hastily I opened the casement and poked my head out. Luke was underneath my window with a hand full of tiny pebbles from his garden.

  ‘Luke? It’s so early.’

  ‘Mum told me you called last night. I knew something was up.’

  I held up both hands to indicate I’d be down in ten minutes.

  I washed my face, brushed my teeth, ran a comb through my hair and pulled on a pair of jogging bottoms and a sweatshirt. Lastly I picked up a sheet of paper and stuffed it into my bag. Luke was waiting near his car with bleary eyes and unruly hair. He’d probably slept in his T-shirt, because it was warmly crumpled and smelled like his room. My nose must have been working overtime, because I could also detect garlic and a sweet lingering beer smell.

  ‘It wasn’t that important,’ I said guiltily.

  ‘Mum said you were out of breath as if you’d run a marathon.’

  ‘Can we go somewhere, Luke?’ I was desperate to get away from everything that was familiar.

  I slid into his car and he gave me a mock salute and grinned. ‘Where to, m’lady?’

  ‘I don’t suppose … you fancy going to the … seaside?’

  Luke didn’t even bother replying, but did a sharp three-point turn and sped out of our road. It was only twenty minutes to the coast and we drove in preoccupied silence until Luke pulled into a car park at the end of the promenade and told me to wrap up. The morning tide was in and the waves were huge, three-metre breakers hitting the barriers. We put up our hoods and tried to walk across the dunes, but a film of sand was soon stuck to our faces and our eyes were sore and gritty. Among the shingle and seaweed my eyes picked out pieces of sea glass, which gave me a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. We were soon driven back to a seating area that was sheltered from the wind. There was a small catering van serving hot drinks and fast food.

  I took out the piece of paper and handed it to Luke, then turned away, not wanting to read the story again. The headline was emblazoned in my memory: ‘FIRE AT VICARAGE’.

  Luke was quiet for what seemed like an eternity. I listened to a pair of dogs barking and a little girl laughing as the wind buffeted her along, and wondered how everyday things could just carry on when someone like Genevieve was in the world.

  ‘I printed it off my computer last night,’ I told him.

  ‘It might not be anything to do w
ith her,’ he murmured eventually.

  ‘Another of those coincidences,’ I answered scornfully.

  ‘She couldn’t go halfway across the country to attempt something like this.’

  ‘We did. We went halfway across the country just to delve into her past, and you’ve got to admit it’s strange that things like this just seem to follow her around.’

  Even Luke seemed to be stumped by this one. ‘But everyone’s OK … I mean, it’s awful but … they all got out in time.’

  My voice was a deathly whisper. ‘Only thanks to the fire escape on the top floor. If the vicarage had been smaller …’ I shuddered, remembering that the ground floor had been completely gutted and the main staircase cut off. I’d climbed those stairs so many times in my dreams.

  ‘If it was Genevieve, Kat, then she’s settling old scores and it’s nothing to do with us talking to the vicar and his wife.’

  I couldn’t believe that Luke could be so blind and I wondered if he was simply trying not to scare me. ‘She got Merlin to show this to me on his laptop … even labelled the link “For Katy’s Eyes Only”.’

  ‘That’s sick!’ he said angrily.

  ‘She’s on to us,’ I insisted. ‘She knows what we … I’ve been up to. She always knows.’

  I was beginning to learn that the more agitated I became, the calmer Luke was. ‘You’re upset and shocked and probably overreacting.’

  I stood with my hands on my hips. ‘How can you of all people say that?’

  ‘I know you’re into … unexplained events,’ he began tactfully, ‘but everything has a reasonable explanation. I can’t buy into this telepathy thing between you two.’

  ‘She’s getting far too dangerous, Luke.’

  ‘Is that why you were so desperate to get home last night?’ he asked.

  I pulled a strand of hair from my mouth. ‘I was completely in shock … worried that no one’s safe from her.’

  ‘We should go back to the vicarage,’ Luke suggested. ‘Talk to the vicar’s wife and persuade her to go to the police.’

  I shook my head violently. ‘She won’t go. It’s in the story. She blamed it on pranksters playing with fireworks … a joke that got out of hand. “I bear them no ill will,” she was quoted as saying, which sends a message to Genevieve that she won’t do anything to expose her.’

  ‘That doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘She knows what Genevieve’s capable of,’ I answered mutinously. ‘She believed she was truly evil and that that’s why she couldn’t live in a sacred place.’

  Luke gave me an exasperated look.

  I took a deep breath, deciding that I couldn’t contain this any longer. ‘I know you’re into logic, Luke, and hate superstition and magic but … Genevieve isn’t like us. She has something that sets her apart …’

  ‘She might be a sociopath,’ he responded. ‘Someone completely amoral, without a conscience, but she’s of this earth, completely and utterly.’ He stared into the distance and I had to resist the urge to snuggle closer to escape the wind. Since seeing the photograph of us together I was more wary of how I behaved and how other people might view us. The tea from the vendor tasted of nothing but plastic and hot water, but I slurped it gratefully.

  ‘It was so weird seeing Merlin yesterday.’

  ‘Was it?’

  ‘Yeah … almost like when we were together.’

  ‘And you don’t want to get back to that?’

  My hood had fallen down and Luke pulled it up again and fastened the ties, pushing the stray hairs back inside. ‘I think there’s a lot going on with you right now, Kat.’

  ‘He was my dream boyfriend, you know … the kind I never ever thought would even look at me, and when he did everything seemed amazing.’

  ‘Maybe it was the idea of him you were crazy about and not the real him,’ Luke answered with a peculiar smile.

  I was taken aback by how perceptive Luke was, because, in a strange way, I’d already come to the same conclusion. I tried to explain this. ‘The very first time I went to Merlin’s house there was an incredible rainbow behind it, and even though I knew I could never reach it, I still tried. Going out with Merlin felt a bit like that …’

  Luke cleared his throat and appeared slightly embarrassed. ‘It must be hard for you to trust people right now, but when this is over …’

  ‘We could never go back to what we had,’ I told him with certainty.

  ‘Never say never, Kat.’

  I banged my trainers against the concrete, trying to get rid of the wet sand as Luke offered me a torpedo-shaped container. I shook my head politely, not wanting to make a big deal about my aversion to meat, and watched him wolf down a hot dog with all the trimmings, which was doubly gross at breakfast time. I changed the subject.

  ‘What about you and Laura? Three whole years – congratulations!’

  He didn’t reply and I was worried this was too personal, but he raised his eyes as the gulls swarmed overhead desperate for scraps. ‘She’s so completely comfortable.’

  ‘Like a pair of old shoes,’ I joked.

  Luke smiled, but seemed sad at the same time. It was ages before he spoke again. ‘I don’t think we’ll make it, Kat. We want such different things. Laura’s given me some kind of ultimatum.’

  ‘I’m so sorry …’

  I trailed off, not knowing what to say and shocked because I was glad at this news. I didn’t understand why, because I didn’t have feelings for Luke. I couldn’t have feelings for Luke.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he replied easily. ‘We’ve both changed … it happens.’

  I squeezed his hand and we studied the turbulent water fighting against the wooden sleepers of the sea wall. As I stared into the murky water with its yellow foam I felt a horrible prickly fear run down my spine about something that was to come.

  ‘I feel like I’m drowning,’ I said simply, ‘and Genevieve’s with me but she doesn’t want to be saved, she wants me to go with her.’

  Luke dug his hands deep into his pockets. ‘That’s just a projection of your fears …’

  Suddenly the heavens opened. Luke pulled me to my feet and we ran to the car together, panting. He turned on the wipers and we stayed for a few minutes watching the awesome power of the rolling sea, the horizon just a grey mist of water and sky converged.

  ‘Things have gone way too far now,’ I said with unusual decisiveness. ‘The burning building changes everything. I have to try to stop Genevieve. End the mystery once and for all.’

  Luke raised his eyebrows at me. ‘You sound determined.’

  I nodded grimly. ‘I’ve put this off for too long, Luke. I know exactly what I should do next.’

  Mum?’

  She was out of bed but still in her dressing gown. I’d been kidding myself that she was doing well, but evidence to the contrary was staring me in the face – the sunken eyes, extra worry lines that had appeared overnight and a permanent look of apprehension. She was living on her nerves, and the slightest noise made her jump out of her skin.

  ‘Mum, we need to talk. You have to tell me what’s going on.’

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-FOUR

  Two cups of coffee lay untouched on the table as we sat by the fire together, the wind howling outside and rain lashing the windows. Impatience was making me edgy, but I knew it was important to let her do this in her own time. It took her ages to begin and I really thought she was going to bolt, but finally she took a deep breath.

  ‘I was living close to York when you were born.’

  I wasn’t supposed to know this so I appeared suitably surprised. ‘You mean I wasn’t born here?’

  ‘No … I was still a student when I fell pregnant and I hid it from everyone for as long as I could. I didn’t tell you because … well … I’m not sure really.’

  Mum looked at me wistfully and I wondered if she was remembering my father, whom she never talked about.

  ‘Why did you hide it?’

  She clenched her fis
ts together until her knuckles were white. ‘My parents … Gran and Grandad were quite strict and were so pleased that I’d gone to university; I couldn’t bear to let them down.’

  ‘Were you living in halls?’ I asked innocently.

  ‘No … all the places went to first years. The only accommodation I could get was outside the city, a dingy room in a big old house with five or more other dingy rooms … damp, mice, peeling wallpaper …’

  Mum reached for her cup and took a gulp, spilling some on to her dressing gown, but she didn’t even notice. She stopped and I realized that I was going to have to coax her and it was important to choose my words carefully.

  ‘Did that place … I mean … is it possible it could have a connection to Grace … or Genevieve as she calls herself now?’

  ‘I can’t be certain,’ Mum answered with a tinge of desperate hope. ‘It might all be a terrible coincidence. I mean there’s no proof … just a name.’

  Her voice said one thing but her eyes told me another. There was one way to sort out Genevieve’s identity once and for all. I steeled myself, feeling that I was on the brink of something immense. ‘Would you remember Grace’s date of birth?’

  Mum reeled off the date immediately which took me by surprise, but I reasoned that it was only four days before mine so it would have stayed in her memory.

  ‘Then there’s no doubt,’ I replied flatly. ‘The college confirmed Genevieve’s birthday from their computer records. Genevieve and Grace are the same person.’

  Mum barely reacted and I figured that, deep down, this wasn’t a shock to her. But my stomach lurched and wild thoughts ran through my mind as I remembered the photograph of the unknown baby: Mum had postnatal depression and didn’t know what was going on; Genevieve’s mother had tricked her into taking the small sickly infant and kept the strong, healthy one herself; or they’d both undertaken some strange experiment to raise each other’s child and see how they turned out. This was utterly mad and I was impatient for answers, but it was important not to frighten Mum. I took a few deep breaths and composed myself.

 

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