Spider

by T E kessler

  ‘You do know him?’

  She nodded, but then shook her head. ‘My liaison officer, Petra, suggested I contact him when it was thought Lara was taken by Jelvias, but I found out he’d dropped out of public scrutiny so I never did try to find him. I thought there was nothing he could do. S-she also mentioned Macy Shaw, and I did go and try to speak to her but she’s—’

  ‘In the hospital,’ Harry ended for her. He flopped back down on the settee. ‘I saw her accident on the news. I’ve not met her myself, but she’s in with Jelvias quite thickly. James and I lost touch after my aunt died. It’s well documented that Leigh’s death was caused by Jelvias—she was a scientist and James, back then, was a friend of the Jelvias. My mum blamed him for her death.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘I’m not really sure. Different newspapers give you different versions. It ended up very political.’ Harry looked glum. He sighed. ‘Leigh was killed in an incident that involved the government trying to capture Jelvias. Leigh was a scientist working there, and her death had something to do with a Jelvia named Calder. Or so the story goes.’

  Beth’s heart was pumping. She remembered the conversation in Yash’s house between him and someone called Calder.

  ‘Calder killed her?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I haven’t seen my uncle since the funeral. He’s turned into a recluse and lives somewhere in the Scottish Highlands. Probably on top of a mountain with the wild goats. Sorry, that’s my mum’s bitterness rubbing off onto me.’

  Beth frowned. ‘I doubt James will want to help. He sounds mixed up.’

  ‘He owes me for the death of my aunt. She was a good woman. She was pregnant at the time, too.’

  ‘Oh, Lord. Harry, I’m so sorry.’

  He pulled a face. ‘No one knew she was carrying a child; she probably died without knowing herself.’

  She shrugged. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

  ‘Originally, you thought Jelvias took Lara. Yash comes into your pub, kills a man, and suddenly you’re on first-name terms with him and receiving phone calls from him. So, I’m telling you about James because he could help you.’

  She stared at Harry. She wanted to tell him everything but instead said, ‘I’m sorry. He can’t help, and I don’t want him to.’

  He stared at her for a moment, and then his face twisted into a humourless smile. ‘I wish—’ He stopped and shook his head.

  ‘Wish I would open up to you?’ she finished.

  ‘No, I wish we had never broken up because then you’d feel like we’re in this together, but at the moment, you feel this is your problem to solve, don’t you? But Beth, as far as I’m concerned, we are in this together.’

  ‘If I told you, you’d hate me,’ she said and felt tears welling in her eyes.

  He shook his head. ‘Never.’ He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. ‘But don’t tell me if you feel you can’t. Tonight, with your permission, I want to phone James. Maybe we can go and see him together next week?’

  Beth remembered how angry Yash had been when she went to see Macy. She shook her head. ‘No, it’ll make things worse.’

  Harry frowned. ‘Is Yash blackmailing you?’

  ‘No! Look, Harry, drop it, please?’ She pushed out a smile and added cheerfully, ‘It’ll be okay. I’m made of sterner stuff!’ The sound of a slamming car door had them both looking towards the window. ‘Mum and Dad are home,’ she said. She grabbed Harry’s hand as he stood up. ‘They don’t know anything about Yash.’

  From the window, she saw her dad eye Harry’s car. It was a silver Mercedes Sports, and already her neighbours must be curious at how such a vehicle came to be in a rundown housing estate.

  Her mum walked in first, clutching a peculiar piece of knitting. She stood in the entrance of the living room, looking uncertain at the sight of Harry.

  ‘Hello, Alison. It’s Harry. Do you remember me?’ he said, taking a step towards her.

  Steve came in next, closing the door behind him. He stared at Harry and then, beaming, went over to him with an outstretched hand.

  The men pumped hands several times before Steven’s gaze went to Beth. Immediately, he was all concern.

  ‘What on earth happened?’ he asked, going over, his hand poised to feel her forehead for heat.

  Beth began to sit up. ‘I’m fine. I had a funny turn and Harry brought me home, that’s all.’

  ‘Funny turn?’ Steven turned to Harry. ‘And you happened to be there?’

  ‘No, Dad, we went out for lunch. I came over feeling faint in the restaurant. Embarrassing, really; I’m okay now. Hey, Mum, what’s that in your hand?’

  Steven turned to his wife and pulled her into the room. He sat her beside Beth, who was rolling up her duvet to make space. Alison was eying Harry with confusion.

  Beth took the knitting from her mum’s hands and inspected it, making noises of approval.

  Steven squashed himself next to Alison on the small settee, and Harry sat on the chair.

  ‘It’s nice to see you two back together again,’ Steve said.

  Beth spent a surreal moment pretending all was okay in her world, chatting about how she and Harry met again. Alison didn’t remember him, which was a shame, but she soon warmed to him and had invited him up to her bedroom to show him her latest memory box.

  This box was full of knitting, tangled wool, and patterns taken from magazines she’d seen.

  It was a strange end to an evening, where she pretended everything was all right to her parents—and even Harry—yet she was far from okay. She felt jittery and anxious—but worse, she felt dirty.

  She’d recover over time, but the second night with Yash was a huge weight on her mind. Her recovery, if any, could only begin when the entire business with him was over. She just had to survive it.

  THIRTY-ONE

  For the first time since she could remember, Beth phoned in sick to her cleaning job the following morning. She felt okay physically, but mentally, she was on edge and tearful. She needed to compose herself and get herself psychologically stable after Yash, and for that to happen she needed to rest—and that required not to get up at stupid o’clock in the morning.

  It was as if Yash had taken every ounce of emotion from her, leaving her in a void. Maybe that was why she’d had the panic attack yesterday—it’d all built up, it was as simple as that.

  She was breakfasting alone. Her mum and dad were still asleep. Her dad would probably sleep for as long as possible, because he was back at work tonight after the weekend off. There hadn’t been any signs of him drinking since she’d found the vodka bottle in the pantry, but he was usually good at hiding his habit, so finding empties wasn’t proof he was drinking.

  She heard movement upstairs, and then Alison’s familiar footsteps as she came down the stairs.

  ‘I don’t want breakfast,’ she declared. ‘I’m on a diet.’

  Beth laughed despite herself. ‘Mum, you’ve no need to diet. You’re slimmer than me!’

  ‘I watched a show last night, and I don’t want to get fat.’

  ‘What was it called?’

  ‘Sixty Stone and Housebound.’

  ‘I’ll make you diet toast and marmalade, how’s that?’ Beth said. ‘Hey, Mum, do you remember how to make coffee?’

  ‘I do!’ Alison set about making herself a cup of coffee as Beth buttered her toast and added a dollop of marmalade. ‘Can I go around and see Renia?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Beth. ‘But later. It’s still early.’

  ‘She’s teaching me how to knit.’

  ‘I know.’ Beth looped her arms around her mum’s waist and deposited a kiss on her cheek. ‘Love you, Mum,’ she said.

  Alison laughed. ‘Love you… daughter. Why are you my daughter?’

  Beth’s arms froze around her mum. Slowly, she let go, feeling as though she’d been physically slapped. ‘Because you gave birth to me. You and Dad are my parents.’

  Alison didn’t understand. She pick
ed up her coffee cup and thrust it beneath Beth’s nose, instead. ‘Now what?’

  Beth peered inside the cup of coffee granules and sugar. ‘Here, let me,’ she said and took the cup to fill with water from the boiled kettle.

  Alison took her toast and coffee and sat in front of the TV to watch the Breakfast Show. Beth took out her phone again and checked for messages. There was one from Harry.

  Morning gorgeous. How R U feeling today? xx

  Beth wasn’t due to work at the pub until noon, and she planned on heading to the supermarket to pick up a few supplies they’d forgotten to buy on Saturday. Normality was what she needed right now.

  She left her mum eating her breakfast and watching TV; Alison hadn’t wanted to go shopping with her, saying she needed to catch up on the housework. Her mum managed to vacuum, but dusting seemed to frustrate her. Moving the ornaments and remembering their rightful places upset her.

  Once back home, Beth picked up the post from the mat. They all looked like bills. She put a fair whack of her wages towards paying the bills—probably more than her dad, if the truth was known.

  Steven insisted on making the payments himself, and at first, Beth was worried he’d squander it, but he’d begged her not to take away his last bit of dignity. She wasn’t sure what he meant, but handed over nearly all her wages towards the rent and household bills every month, placing it beneath the old-fashioned ornaments on the sideboard.

  Leaving the post on the sideboard, she moved off towards the kitchen.

  ‘Is Lara coming home today?’ asked Alison, watching as Beth plonked a bag of shopping on the kitchen counter.

  ‘Not today, Mum,’ Beth said automatically as she began to unpack the groceries. She heard the hall door open and turned to see her dad entering the lounge.

  ‘Morning, Dad.’

  He grunted, and she eyed him suspiciously. He had the haunted appearance that she’d come to recognise as hungover. She continued putting groceries away, not wanting to get into a conversation with him if he was drunk. Conversations never ended well when he’d had a drink.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me Colin was selling up?’ Steven asked.

  Beth closed her eyes in horror. With everything going on, she’d completely forgotten to tell her dad about Colin moving away and that the Everson Pub Company was considering selling the Dog and Gun.

  The conversation between Harry and her dad last night had washed over her, she’d been that tired. She’d wondered why her dad kept throwing her funny looks. After Harry had left and she’d gone to bed, he must have thought the worst and hit the bottle instead of waiting to speak with her.

  ‘I was going to tell you,’ she said.

  ‘You didn’t think it was important?’ He was in one of his rages. ‘How are we going to afford this place with you out of work, eh?’

  ‘We managed when you were out of work!’ she flung back.

  Steven grunted. He bypassed her towards the sink where he ran the cold tap. Stale drink fumes poured off him. Grabbing a glass from the draining board, he filled it up. He drank thirstily, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Thumping the glass back down he said, ‘So why keep it from me? Did you think I’d be angry?’

  She rubbed the back of her neck. ‘I didn’t keep it from you. I was hoping there’d be nothing to tell and that the new manager would keep me on,’ she said.

  ‘Harry says they’re selling it.’

  ‘It’s all uncertain at the moment,’ she said on a shrug, knowing she’d been right in refusing Harry’s offer of the Bromley job. ‘Anyway you’ve always said I can do better than a back street pub—’

  His snort interrupted her. ‘Now you’ve got yourself your flash boyfriend back, you probably think so!’

  Beth had to hang on to her temper. Her dad was still drunk and an ordinary conversation with him was pointless—as was her anger. She touched his arm. ‘Why don’t you go back to bed? I’ll bring you up a coffee and some toast or something.’

  He shrugged her off. ‘I need fresh air,’ he said and pulled at the back door, which led to their backyard. The door was locked, but that didn’t stop him from yanking at it. ‘What’s wrong with the fucking door?’ he yelled.

  ‘Nothing, it’s just locked!’ She shoved him to one side so she could turn the key. She flung the door open and indicated, with a jab of her finger, for him to leave through it. ‘Go on, go out and piss your life away,’ she shouted in frustration, ‘and leave the rest of us to cope as always.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, turning unsteadily on his feet.

  ‘You’re drinking again!’

  ‘You’re my daughter, not my keeper!’ he shouted.

  ‘Then that makes you my father, so try acting like one!’ she yelled back.

  ‘Stop it, you two,’ said Alison. Beth and Steven turned and saw Alison standing with her hands clamped over her ears. ‘I hate it when you fight,’ she said.

  Beth was consumed with guilt, but before she could react, her dad went to stand by Alison’s side and wound an arm around her waist. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head and led her back towards the settee. ‘Sorry, love,’ he said. ‘We’re not really fighting. Just talking loudly.’

  Beth lowered her head, remembering him saying that to her and Graham once, before the accident, when he and her mum argued. She looked up. Her dad had moved to sit with Alison, and it looked like he’d forgotten about his urge to drink. She crossed the small area and sat in the chair opposite them.

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad—and Mum—I’m still feeling a little ill,’ she said.

  ‘No, I’m sorry,’ Steven said. He hugged Alison to him and kissed the top of her head again. ‘I’m an idiot.’

  Alison nodded but her eyes were fixated on the TV.

  ‘Dad, we can’t afford you to fall off the wagon,’ Beth said. ‘You finally have a job, but soon, I might be out of one. We need your wage.’ She pointed towards the sideboard where she’d put the bills. The post was no longer there, so her dad must have taken them already. ‘And that’s why you must keep your job. Also, I need you sober. I-I’m struggling at the moment. I’m missing Lara so much it really hurts.’

  ‘We’re all missing her.’

  ‘I know, I know.’

  He rubbed a hand over his face. ‘I am sorry. I’m trying.’

  She wanted to say, ‘You’re not trying hard enough,’ but she didn’t have the strength for arguing—or his pathetic attitude. She went to stand and to resume putting the groceries away.

  But her dad said, ‘Sarah really likes you. She, er, thinks you’re amazing working two jobs while looking after Alison and me.’

  Beth frowned, thinking back to the smiley-faced woman who’d been introduced to her as his AA counsellor. Beth had forgotten all about her.

  ‘What—’ he began, but broke off to pick up a cushion. He cradled it on his lap. ‘What did you, er, think of her?’

  ‘Think of Sarah?’

  ‘Yes. What did you think?’

  ‘I didn’t really speak to her. She was okay, I suppose. Are you going back to your meetings?’

  Steven fiddled with the zip on the cushion. He glanced at Alison and Alison looked back, her eyes full of trust. She patted his hand.

  ‘Can I see Sarah again? I like her,’ she said.

  ‘Again?’ Beth looked questioningly at her dad.

  ‘Alison’s met her a couple of times now. They get on. She, er, Sarah, thinks I should go back. To the meetings,’ he added.

  ‘Right,’ said Beth, waiting for more to follow from her dad.

  But instead, Steven stood up. He flung the cushion down on the seat he’d occupied. ‘I’m going for a shower.’

  Beth watched him go, knowing she had missed his hidden message.

  THIRTY-TWO

  The following week sped by and the awful re-runs of her night with Yash had almost stopped. Her backside was healed—the bruising was gone and the welts had faded so much it was difficult to see them.

  An
d her panic attack was a horrible memory.

  But Beth still checked her phone every moment of the day for texts from Yash. She was desperate for news on Lara but didn’t dare call or text Yash. She was beginning to think that it had all been a con, and Yash had deliberately gone out of his way to make it all up just to see how far she’d go.

  Well, she’d gone all the way.

  On the plus side, Harry was now back in her life—still ‘as friends’, but nevertheless in her life. Knowing she wanted closure with Yash before she made any decisions about her future, Harry stopped talking about the manager job in Bromley, but he let her know the job was there when she was ready.

  When she arrived for work at the Dog and Gun that Friday, Colin was looking heavy-eyed with a streaming red nose. Beth sent him back upstairs to bed with instructions not to come down for the rest of the day. It was quiet in the pub, and he wasn’t really missed.

  Beth was changing a barrel in the cellar when Bronx shouted down to her, ‘That rep’s here again,’ but when Beth climbed out to a smiling Harry.

  ‘She still thinks I’m a rep?’ he said.

  Beth laughed. ‘Sometimes I wonder how Bronx manages to get out of bed! What are you doing here?’ She winced. ‘Sorry, that sounds really rude.’

  Harry laughed. ‘It’s fine. But I’m here because you didn’t text me that “hello” after I texted you “good morning”.’

  If they spent the day apart, they texted one another every morning and every evening, wishing each other good morning or good night. It was cheesy and sentimental, but at the same time, comforting. ‘That’s because I knew you were coming here.’

  ‘Excuses, excuses,’ he said.

  As soon as she shut the cellar door, Harry grabbed her hand. ‘Promise me you won’t be mad?’ he asked.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I’ve found James,’ he said.

  His words were like a bucket of cold water over her head. She stared up at him.

  ‘I swear I didn’t mention you. I just asked if he’d heard of Jelvias kidnapping humans.’

  Beth relaxed. She nodded. ‘What did he say?’