Naive Retribution

by Dawson, H A

  ‘Jade?’

  She spun around. William was in the doorway, looking to the images of Kelsey with a glazed concern.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I miss her.’

  He perched on the arm of the sofa and wrapped his arm around her back. ‘She was a delightful little girl.’

  ‘Still is.’

  For a few moments, they watched Kelsey’s attempts with a soft ball and a small racket. She had always shown promise, and had ball skills way beyond her years, yet what was the most evident was her determination to succeed. Repeatedly, she lost control of the ball, and chased after it, picked it up, and started the routine again. She had never grown bored and had never lost motivation.

  ‘What a star!’ William said.

  A tear slipped down Jade’s cheek.

  ‘This is not just about Kelsey, is it?’

  Jade looked to him, her mouth loose. It was pointless disagreeing; he knew her well enough to know when she was hiding something. ‘I . . . I miss him.’

  ‘Him?’

  ‘My little boy! William, how could you forget?’

  ‘I’m sorry. It was a long time ago.’

  She hurried to the window, stared at the birds on the feeder, and folded her arms. He tried to touch her. She yanked herself free, her torment rising.

  ‘I didn’t go to his funeral,’ she said. ‘I didn’t even give him a name. What kind of person does that make me?’

  ‘Then do something about it. It’s not too late.’

  ‘It is too late.’

  ‘No. It’s never too late.’

  ‘You think?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘But what . . . what about Joe? He might have given him a name.’

  ‘Then contact him.’ William peeked her on the cheek. ‘I’m sure you could come up with something together.’

  Her body softened. A blue tit was pecking at the nuts and another waited on a nearby branch.

  ‘I’m going to the tennis club for a few hours,’ he continued, ‘shall I get a take away?’

  ‘Erm . . . yes please.’

  ‘Okay. Catch you later.’ He kissed her again. ‘Try to enjoy the rest of your day.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Going anywhere?’

  ‘What, without a car?’

  ‘Sorry, I forgot.’

  William departed. Once alone, her ideas presented themselves. She could have a ceremony in her son’s memory, with songs, poetry, and a meal. She could invite her closest friends and she could ask someone to speak. Perhaps she should make it religious. It would give it credibility, and she could ask for forgiveness at the same time. It was a wonderful idea and she wondered why she hadn’t thought of it sooner.

  Who should she ask? How soon should she have it? Kelsey would want to be included, so she should arrange it for between terms. She reached for her phone and looked to her diary. The first Saturday would be a possibility. She had a hair appointment that afternoon, but that could soon be changed.

  Now, what about the venue? They could have it at home and have the food delivered, or they could go to a restaurant. Whilst she liked having visitors, it was always nice to go out. It felt like a better option, so she reached for the phone book and started to make calls. Within a short time, she had gathered a few options. However, before she made a decision, she decided she should confirm numbers, and created a list.

  It would be nice to invite William’s brother’s family, since they were close, and of course, his mother. Kath, too, would have to be invited, and since it was going to be a family-friendly occasion, her daughters would have to be catered for. Then there were their closest friends from the tennis club. A few names came into her mind, but she soon had second thoughts. Whilst familiar, they knew nothing of her loss. She didn’t want to have to start to explain, and so reluctantly crossed them out. It was disappointing but appropriate.

  Her body rippled with satisfaction. Having a tribute was exactly the right thing to do, and she praised William for his suggestion. He had even suggested contacted Joe, which was a surprise since she didn’t think he would have wanted that. Feeling impatient, and not wanting to wait a couple of hours for the planned meeting to share her news, she reached for her mobile phone.

  She selected the number, but then hesitated. He would be in class.

  What the hell.

  Joe picked up. ‘Jade what-’

  ‘I know, I’ll be quick. I just had to tell you I’m arranging something in our baby’s memory. I’ve decided on a meal and an after-dinner speaker. Don’t worry, I’ll pay for it, but I’d like you to attend. And of course Dawn.’

  ‘I . . . I’m not sure it’s a good idea.’

  ‘It’s something I need to do. I should never have run off. I didn’t even go to his funeral.’

  ‘You didn’t need to.’

  ‘Of course I did. You shouldn’t have had to do it alone. I was always expecting you to clear up my mess and it was wrong. It’s about time I faced up to my past. I . . . I treated you badly and I’m sorry.’

  The thought of her worst mistakes gripped her entirely. The crowd in the pub had cheered as she had told her tale about his gay affair, giving explicit details. She saw Joe’s anger, and noticed his blushes surface, yet it had not prevented her speech. In fact, the opposite had occurred, and encouraged by the repartee from the jostling mass she continued with her teasing remarks. Everyone was enthralled to hear of the punishment Joe had received in the hands of his father, from being forced to walk home half nude because he had dirtied his trousers in mud, to his bed-wetting days in his early teens. The laughter had rung in her ears.

  ‘Jade, are you still there?’

  ‘Yes, sorry.’

  ‘I just said we both did bad stuff, not just you.’

  ‘No. What I did was far worse. That night in the pub . . . I should never have done it. I am so sorry. I don’t know why you kept forgiving me.’

  ‘Can this wait until later? I have a class and-’

  ‘Yes, of course. Just one thing, though. You’re one in a million and I . . . I love you.’

  ‘Jade . . . don’t.’

  ‘No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just happy, that’s all, and it’s all making sense – the stalker, the messages, everything.’

  ‘We’ll speak later, okay.’

  ‘Yes, later. I’m just a bit impatient. I couldn’t wait two more hours.’

  ‘Bye then.’

  ‘Bye.’

  Joe had said he wanted to meet near a disused barn in the woods. Obviously, he had one thing on his mind and that was sex. Strolling along the pathway, walking around the perimeter of the reservoir, Jade dreamed of their passionate encounter. It wasn’t the best location, but given that it was the middle of the day and there were a few dog walkers around, they couldn’t risk doing anything in the open air. She glanced down to her tight pants. Maybe if she had worn a loose fitting skirt it would have been a different matter.

  The warmth of the sunshine permeated her skin, releasing the scent of her perfume. She had wanted to look her best, and had taken extra care with her appearance. Not only had she chosen a slinky outfit, she had also added colour to her hair and taken special care with her makeup. It had helped her feel better after the accident, and whilst she was still sore from the crash, she had no intention of dwelling on what could have been. It was over. She had survived.

  Having climbed a slight incline, she stopped and peered to her rear, searching for Joe amongst the other walkers. But there was no sign of him , only two elderly ladies walking together with small dogs, and at the far side of the water, a woman with a child on a bicycle. Jade reasoned Joe must be waiting for her in the barn; otherwise, he would have met her by the entrance. He was planning a surprise.

  Walking along a trodden dirt path, zigzagging through the trees, her steps faltered. She had been a fool wearing heels, as the mud was creeping up her shoe. But there was little she could do
about it, except avoid it the best she could, and so tiptoed around the edges continuing her journey. It was a familiar route, and despite her solitude, she was relaxed and carefree.

  The barn appeared in her vision. It was a small yet complete building, without broken tiles or brickwork, and was shielded from the weather by the trees. From memory, she knew the door was on the far side. Her skin tingled, her expectations rising.

  ‘Joe?’ she called.

  There was no answer. Her pulse quickened. She scanned the surrounding area and continued towards the building, momentarily feeling her foolishness. She was alone in the middle of the woodland, way off the regular track, and shivered, anxious and cold.

  The breeze blew her hair across her face. She brushed it away with her hand, her nervousness mounting, and reached to her phone. There were no messages. Hesitating, she wondered if she should call William, just to let someone know where she was, but then she remembered she had said she was staying in. Deciding it was a bad idea she turned the phone onto silent.

  She would be okay. Joe was the person she was meeting, not the stalker and not anyone she couldn’t trust. She had even confirmed it with him earlier in the day and should force aside her paranoia. She strode with confidence around the building, without scanning for movement between the trunks of the trees.

  ‘Joe?’ she enquired, standing beside the hefty wooden door.

  ‘Come in.’

  Upon hearing his voice, her body slackened with relief and her movements speeded up. She pulled open the door. It was dark inside with the only available light coming from a high up window. She stepped inside, scanning the pile of rotting hay at the far end and wrapped her arms across her middle. ‘Where are you?’

  There was no reply.

  A light switched on. Her eyes darted towards it. It was coming from an ipad on the concrete floor, near a pile of hay, and a video started to play with music and rotating graphics. Then photos repeated on the screen. They were all of her, and she was wearing a variety of outfits, all taken over the last few weeks. Jade stared, entranced.

  The barn door banged shut. She ran back to the exit and thrust her body weight against it, urging it to open. It would not shift.

  A hand grabbed her wrist. The person responsible wore a balaclava, loose fitting jeans and a jacket, and he grabbed her wrists, spun her around, and locked them together with handcuffs. She was thrust to the ground and landed on her knees, falling onto her front and banging her head. She screamed, helpless and terrified. The dust choked her breaths, tickling her nostrils. She spluttered and coughed.

  ‘Let me go!’

  Left alone, she peered over her shoulder, looking for the figure. He had moved a short distance away and was looking for something in a bag. Now was her opportunity. She looked to the door and back to her attacker, and pressed her hands onto the floor and raised herself onto her knees. Something heavy landed on the centre of her back. She splattered onto the floor. She screamed. Her ankles were tied with tape.

  Jade’s adrenalin surged and her heart beat wildly. Gritting her teeth, desperate to rip the tape, she tried to pull apart her ankles, and wriggled and writhed. It wouldn’t budge, and heat rose through her body, reddening her skin. Next, she made an effort to free her hands, and tried to squeeze one through the round metal structure. Her trapped skin burned. She fought to win, getting ever closer to releasing her hand, but then she caught sight of her companion. His eyes glistened and his posture was smug; evidently, he enjoyed witnessing her labours.

  Not willing to allow him any more pleasure, and with her skin hot and swelling, she retreated and collapsed in a heap. Her chest heaved and her muscles sank onto the cold, concrete ground. She trembled and whimpered.

  He stepped away, antagonising her with his controlled silence. Deciding she too could resist blurting anything out, she stared at the light filtering between the tiles on the roof and clamped shut her mouth.

  A crackling sound of fire caused her to jolt. Her eyes darted to the left and the right, sniffing the air. She peered over her shoulder, sweat creeping to the surface of her skin, and looked into the shadows for smoke and flames. With her mind creating realistic illusions, gripped by panic, her her body bubbled with adrenalin. She screeched and squealed, and tried to reach the safety of the open space, wriggling and jerking her body away from the hay.

  Laughter filled the air. Her masked companion turned the ipad around, and presented the screen. It was all pretence, but the relief lasted only a moment. Upon the screen, the fire was taking hold in a kitchen, and the flames extended creeping up the walls before whooshing across the wooden panels and out through the door. It brought back a flood of unwanted memories.

  He pressed a button. The scene changed. This time the fire was in a bedroom. A boy appeared from the side and his expression was etched in terror. His exit was blocked; he was going to burn to death.

  Mesmerised, Jade bit her lip, her face contorting, her tears rising.

  The little boy cried out her name.

  Tears slid down her cheeks. It had not been her fault. She shut her eyes, willing the haunting scene away, but her tormentor hit her on a shoulder, forcing her to look. This time the view was outside, two children were hanging out of the windows, both shrouded in flames. In the gardens, drinking and carefree, was a solitary figure. The person was labelled. It was meant to be her.

  Inside her head the tormenting cries of her brothers persisted. She screamed. She clenched her jaw. She trembled. The vision repeated; the smell of burning embers unshakable, and the heat tightening her skin.

  There was no escape.

  ‘You will pay for what you’ve done,’ he said.

  She turned her head. This time the voice was not a recording and she recognised it instantly.

  Chapter 33

  He hid behind the balaclava. She didn’t need to see his face. She knew exactly who it was and struggled to comprehend the reason behind his behaviour.

  ‘What have I ever done to you,’ Jade said. ‘I thought we were friends.’

  ‘Friends? Is that what you think.’

  She rocked from side to side, until she managed to turn onto her side, and all the time he stared. His expression was impassive, and he showed neither sorrow nor joy.

  ‘Untie me Dylan,’ she said.

  ‘Not until you admit what you’ve done.’

  ‘I should be saying that to you. You’re just a boy pretending to be a man. This is not the way to get people to listen to you.’

  He stared, his eyes unreadable.

  ‘And take off that mask.’

  Dylan did just that; he pulled his glasses from his pocket and slipped them on to his face. But he didn’t look at her, and so she could not tell his emotions. She imagined he was scared. She hoped he was.

  He spun around. This time, there was anger in his face. ‘You hurt Kath. Kath is my friend.’

  ‘I’ve not hurt Kath. Not intentionally.’

  ‘You’ve hurt Kath. You’re a bad person.’

  ‘No, no I’m not. You don’t know me.’

  ‘You think?’ He extracted newspaper cuttings from his bag and flung them towards her.

  They referenced Kath’s role in their mother’s suicide, and her father’s role in the fire. It was a horrifying amount of information, and it must have taken ages to acquire.

  ‘Others take the blame for what you’ve done.’

  ‘I’ve not done anything!’

  ‘Kath says differently.’

  ‘Then Kath is wrong. Let me go Dylan, and we can talk about this properly.’

  ‘She says you forget things.’

  ‘Yes, I do. I have dissociative amnesia. I can’t remember everything about the fire, or our mother’s suicide. It’s not a choice, it’s a fact.’

  ‘You lie. It’s what you do best.’

  Jade took a calming breath of air. ‘No, I don’t. I have a condition.’

  ‘Do you like killing people?’

  ‘I haven’t killed anyon
e.’

  Dylan stared, unblinking.

  ‘So who have I killed?’

  He stepped to the ipad that lay on the straw, and selected something from the screen. It was more graphical images, stills this time, and they were of Joe and a baby. A block rose to her throat.

  ‘You killed this baby,’ Dylan said.

  Jade gawped, her heart pounded. ‘No . . . that’s you. My baby died.’

  ‘You have memory problems. How can you be sure?’

  Her mind raced, her heart thumped. Of course, she was sure. She had given birth. Dawn had taken her baby away, and pronounced him dead. She didn’t kill him. She would have remembered. Joe would have said something.

  ‘You placed your hand over his mouth,’ Dylan continued. ‘He couldn’t breath. His death was instant.’

  Inside she screamed. Outside, she gawped.

  ‘See,’ he said, ‘you don’t remember.’

  ‘I . . . I wouldn’t do that.’

  He reached to his bag, extracted a small cloth object, and dangled it in her face. It was a blue babygro, a recognisable blue babygro with a patterned duck front. One she had purchased many years before.

  ‘Remember this?’ he said, ‘this was his. He wore it before you killed him.’

  She scrunched her face and held her breath. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t. She would have remembered.

  ‘You wanted him dead! Everyday Dad goes through hell because of what you did. He thinks I don’t notice but I do. I’m smarter than him.’

  ‘No!’ Her voice weakened. ‘I didn’t. I wouldn’t.’

  Anger darkened his face. ‘Take a better look. The colour’s faded and the fabric’s bubbled. See?’

  Jade’s heart pounded. She squeezed together her lips.

  ‘It’s been worn . . . before you killed him. You didn’t want him, just like you didn’t want . . .’ He stopped abruptly, then thrust the item back into his bag.

  ‘Like I didn’t want what?’

  ‘Your family. You hurt everyone you love. You can’t help it. It’s in your DNA and it has to be stopped. Dad won’t do anything, but I will. I hate you enough to do that.’