The Penn Friends Series Books 1-4: Penn Friends Boxset

by T H Paul

  Five minutes later she came back with a bag full of shopping, Penny unsure of what it was, though as her mother dropped the bag into the boot, all she could hear were bottles knocking against bottles.

  Nothing was said for the remainder of the journey home, the car pulling up onto the drive, Penny running to the front door as her mum grabbed the bag from the boot.

  “Go and play in your room,” Barbara ordered her daughter, who climbed the stairs and did as ordered, her mother going into the kitchen, and moments later there was the sound of liquid poured into a glass. It was a sound that would dog Penny for the next decade. Her mother the drunk.

  The row that night was the first time Penny heard her parents really losing it with one another, her mother by that point very drunk, her father very guilty and sorry for having been caught out with another woman. Penny went to sleep, unheard and alone, with the sound of smashing glasses and shouts from both parents. It would be a familiar pattern for years to come, the earliest memories of little Penny of parents who couldn’t stand each other. They were only ever sad memories for Penny, ones she would lock away and try to forget.

  Over the next five years, culminating in her first major show at the age of ten, Penny found escape in ballet, her mother continuing to encourage the art, despite her obvious challenges. She was very much still clinging to what the impact all that exercise, all that exertion, might have on her still growing daughter.

  By that point, the dancing group had become a dedicated and disciplined bunch of ten girls, with only eight months difference in age across the whole class. Penny was third oldest. She would often stay behind after dance class, as did other girls, Mr Jenkins with words of advice or comfort to bestow on his young proteges, and just before the big show, they were all involved in a dance camp which took them away for the weekend across the English Channel to Paris. For all the girls, it was their first trip abroad, and their first trip without their parents.

  Two girls would leave the group a few weeks later, after the big show, with no reason given as to why. That only promoted Penny further, now the oldest of the remaining eight, and by far the most talented, very much the one remaining bright star.

  When Penny asked her mother why her friends had left the class, Barbara didn't tell Penny an answer––if her mother did, in fact, know why she wasn’t saying anything. It would be nearly six years before Penny would really understand what the reason had been.

  As Penny turned thirteen, there was a definite rise in tension within the Black home. By that point Penny was used to the fact her parents didn’t talk to one another, each with their own bedroom––she had no memory of it being anything but––and with her relationship with her father strained at the best of times. Penny heard, in yet another bedtime argument she couldn’t help but be made to listen to, her father accused her mother of turning Penny against him. The drinking was heavier than ever that night, Penny waking the following morning––her father already left for work, her mother still soundly asleep––and made her way to school before her mum was even up, walking with her friend from a few doors down, Abbey Lawrence.

  Hitting puberty caused Penny’s world to turn upside down, and the incident with Abbey in the park just a few weeks later was to change everything for everyone. By that point, Penny felt she had little relationship with either parent and though Mr Jenkins was someone she adored, couldn’t bring herself to talk to him about what was going on. Besides, she’d done something to Abbey, and it wasn’t looking like it was working out in Penny’s favour, so she didn’t know what or who she could trust, if ever.

  Penny couldn’t help feeling more and more under her mother’s watchful gaze, as if she was prying into her soul, looking for something, anything, that would give her reason to lose her temper once again. Penny wouldn’t give her that chance. She wouldn’t be anything but normal in front of her mother, someone who was drinking far more than was normal or healthy. Someone, therefore, unfit and unavailable to be allowed to handle such weighty revelations from her only daughter, so Penny would just have to keep it all locked away, all safely kept from her mother’s prying eyes.

  “I didn’t know Abbey could run,” Barbara said the day the removal truck had come and helped move the Lawrence’s from their little cul-de-sac. Abbey's mum told her that they needed to spend more time training, and therefore being located nearer to the Academy Abbey had since been accepted into would mean she wouldn’t be late for school each morning.

  “Abbey's been running for ages,” Penny lied, not wanting to dwell any longer on the fact she’d just had her one good friend from school move away. The fact her mother had no idea it was even on the cards yet further proof she was more out of touch with her daughter than ever before.

  Barbara seemed to study her daughter carefully that day, always looking for those long forgotten telltale signs. Had Abbey always been good at running, she didn’t know, though she didn’t look particularly cut out for such a future in the sport. Penny had been dancing since the age of five, and as such, it showed. If Abbey had been running for as long, it was far from obvious in the girl’s physique. The fact Penny seemed cut up about it––she was avoiding talking about the reality that her friend was going––didn’t appear to suggest it was anything to do with her daughter, however. Penny wouldn’t have willingly pushed away her one good friend. Barbara let it drop.

  Less than one year later Tom Black was to walk out for good. Penny was not at home when the argument happened, but from all accounts that Penny would hear, it had been as bad as any of the hundreds that had preceded. Barbara was home during the day––she’d recently lost another job as her drinking once again became a problem she couldn’t keep hidden at work––and Tom had been packing his bags, while Barbara had been at the off-licence for further supplies. Tom was leaving her and moving in with another woman, someone he’d seen for a few years already and someone with whom he said he was now in love.

  Barbara smashed a few things, called him every name under the sun but was really going through the motions. She knew their marriage had been dead for years already, had been hanging by a thread just as much as their lives had, as each year ticked by and the looming question as to whether Penny did, in fact, possess the power of enchantment. The last thing Tom packed was his rare stamp collection, something that he’d been building for years, his love for rare stamps being what had given the name to their only child. In their own Penny Black, however, they had picked up something just as dangerous as she was rare.

  In the note that he had written––he intended to be gone before she got home again––Tom had given his reasons for going. It would take Barbara two months from the day he first left actually to read the note, and even then, she couldn’t comprehend what he’d said.

  I can’t stand to see it happen between you, he’d stated in his first show of any meaningful emotion in over a decade. It’s like looking at a ticking time bomb, except we can’t see if it’s counting down or if in fact it’s even wired to explode. All I can think about is what if Penny does have the gene? What that would do to you. What if the exercise, the dancing, doesn’t make a difference? I can’t protect you, though nor can I be around to witness it. Maybe we should have told her, perhaps you still should? I’ll leave that up to you. I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused, I think we once had something that was special, but something you were prepared to give up on when you stopped taking the pill. Something you forced upon the pair of us without my knowledge or consent, without knowing the full picture, without knowing that it would be a suspended death sentence for one of us. You made that choice, and now you have to live with it. I regret that we had not been more open with each other from the very beginning, that we hadn’t been able to talk about this of all things. Maybe then it could have been different. We would have known the sure danger that a pregnancy would cause. Be careful. If she does manifest, you have to get out of there. No mother has ever been able to fix it as far as I can tell. You won’t be safe. She’
ll be better off on her own.

  Barbara drank so much the night she first read that letter that she didn’t wake up for thirty-six hours. Penny had spent the weekend at Mr Jenkins, with two other girls from the dance class. He was ten times the parent that either of her own parents had ever been, a man who was there for her, looking out for her.

  Little did she know back then that he was grooming her, as he’d been doing with several girls for years. When that would explode, it would once again tear large rivets between Penny and her mother, rivets that would lead to the total breakdown of their relationship, and quicken the inevitable end.

  4

  I only found that letter after mum was gone, as I rummaged through her stuff, trying to find anything that gave a hint to my past. I hadn’t been expecting to find that. It was the first time I realised I wasn’t a freak, that I wasn’t the only one. And it made me think, if she had it too, were there others? Others like me, maybe my age, who had this same ability? Others who possessed this same curse? They wouldn’t be easy to find––I knew that from how hidden I kept my ability––but one would one day manifest themselves to me in their own unique way.

  As for Mr Jenkins––a name I once praised, but one that now makes me feel sick––how was a young girl to know what he was? Even after the rumours started spreading about what he did to two of my classmates, my mother kept me there, kept taking me insisting the exercise was good, that I loved ballet and that this was just wild gossip. But it wasn’t. He had been taking photos of us dressing and undressing for years––there were twice the amount of images of me than of any other girl in the group––and we had no idea.

  Why didn’t my father protect me? Why did my father leave me exposed to such a beast, such a lowlife piece of waste as that man? Where was he? How could he have abandoned me, left me to him, left me to my mother? What type of person does that?

  Penny took a keener interest in ballet during that troubling time of early teens. Abbey was the talk of her school, a new found athletics champion in the making, and school became less attractive for her during this period. Home life wasn’t much better, so everything got invested in that dance studio with the seven other members of the group.

  Millie Turner was the youngest member, and partly because of that she was the outsider. A large part of why that was, was down to the fact her mother was a known faith healer, except she had very little success. Millie bore the brunt of jokes, therefore, in the class because of her mother. Being youngest, however, she had less of Mr Jenkins focus. It gave Penny a person she could work with, the perfect fit for what suddenly became needed.

  It happened on a Monday night in October. The girls, all nearly fourteen, were now dancing three nights a week, and another big show was just two weeks away. Training had been intense up until that point, and would not let up until after the performance. As they were finishing their final routine, Penny fell, hurting her ankle and knee badly, though knew enough, like all the girls did, to not let on. She hobbled to one side and cried her way to the changing rooms when no one was looking. It hurt like hell. She’d torn something severely, and it didn’t feel right.

  The girls followed in ten minutes later, by which time Penny was just sitting there. If she didn’t move, didn’t put weight on it, she could make it look like she wasn’t hurt.

  The girls got ready, leaving Penny to herself––no one asked how she was doing, and for her part, Penny pretended to be on her phone, deep into a chat message with someone.

  Millie was the last to get ready, and when it was just the two of them left there, Penny called her over. Millie came and sat next to Penny.

  “What’s up?” Millie said, looking at Penny, someone she admired and wanted to please, glad she was finally showing her some attention.

  “Your mum can heal people, right?” Millie knew what everyone thought about that, and wasn’t going to be fair game for more teasing.

  “No, she can’t. She only says she can, and people pay her money. I think it’s all crazy.” She seemed to believe it too. Penny, however, had another idea, something that might come in useful down the years if it was ever needed again.

  “What if she did have some powers but passed them on to you, and you have them too––maybe even stronger than she does?”

  “Very funny,” Millie said, looking disappointed that the conversation had come to this, that her would-be friend was just like all the other girls, taking the mickey out of her for what her mother did for a living. Everyone in the class knew Penny’s mum was a jobless drunk.

  “No, please, I need you to try,” Penny said, taking hold of Millie’s hand, encouraging her to sit back down, which she did moments later, having seen the genuine nature to Penny’s pleading.

  “What’s wrong?” Millie said, a slight concern on her own face now showing.

  Penny’s mind was working overtime. She could well just tell Millie how badly her ankle was hurting, though that would risk her touching the leg and Penny wasn’t sure she could manage that. It would also prove too obviously that Millie had a healing ability, and Penny already saw what that had done with Abbey. She would lose Millie as quickly as Abbey had left, and that would be no use to her. So Penny would lie to her, and just as in that exam room where Penny listened in on Abbey’s thoughts via the gift of telepathy, Penny would have to make this also specific to her. She couldn’t have Millie able to heal anyone else but her.

  “It’s my head,” Penny said after just a few seconds pause. “I’ve got a headache coming, and I’d love to have you try.” Penny had been working up the feeling inside her stomach for the last ten minutes, and given the pain she was in, it hadn’t taken long to manifest itself.

  “I don’t know how to do it,” Millie protested, ready to give it all up again and walk away.”

  “Please, just try. Once, for me.”

  Millie felt stupid even going along with it––maybe all the other girls were secretly listening in, watching a hidden camera or something, waiting to make a total fool out of her again. Millie instead chose to reach out her hand, to take the risk and help, for the sake of Penny.

  With Millie’s hand resting on the top of Penny’s head––as far away from her hurting ankle as was possible––Penny quickly thought; Millie can heal me of all injuries, pain and sickness wherever it might be in my body just by touching me. At the moment she thought this, all pain went in her own ankle and leg. Penny opened her eyes, trying to suppress the joy bubbling up inside.

  “Well, how does it feel?” Millie said, apprehensively. She had no idea what she was doing.

  “There might be a slight improvement,” Penny said, touching her forehead as if to prod around and check. Millie looked a little disappointed but soon brushed it off. Penny, however, felt elated. She could stand, and was now standing, still dressed in her dance-wear. Only now did Millie take that in, but put it down to the fact her friend had a headache and probably just needed to rest for a while. “I’ll let you know how it feels later, okay?”

  “Okay,” Millie said, who was also now standing, picking up her bag. So this hadn’t been a setup, there wasn't the rest of the group watching through a hidden camera, ready to now burst in on them both, making more fun of Millie than ever? That was some relief, at least.

  There was a camera, however, that had been taking photos as it always did. Later that evening, when everyone had left, Mr Jenkins would once again be going through the footage and paused as he spotted the shots of Penny, this gem of a student. She was his favourite. Penny also seemed to be crying and in great pain. She hadn’t moved throughout the next twenty images, as the other girls had arrived, changed and left until it was just two girls left––the last two images on his camera. One showed Millie with her hand on Penny’s head, and the last one showed the two girls standing, Penny’s face back to her once again brilliant smile, no trace of the tears there had been. He pondered that thought for a moment, before working back through the photos, saving images that were worth being added
to his private collection.

  Penny left that session feeling more hopeful than ever. Her mother said nothing in the car journey home, besides complaining that Penny had been so late, the last to leave as always. She asked Penny if she’d been kept behind by Mr Jenkins and if he’d done anything to her. Penny didn’t know what she was talking about and said she’d just been chatting with Millie, who Barbara had indeed seen leaving just before Penny appeared.

  Penny sat in the car and then later in her room once home––her mother had ordered her there, another drinking session about to apparently start––mulling over all that her latest test had shown her. It gave her some wild thoughts, taking her down new paths of possibilities. In Millie, she had someone close by who could be called upon when needed. She’d have to keep it under wraps. Once Millie tried it on anyone else, nothing would happen––if that happened too much, she’d never want to do it again. So she would have to persuade Millie that it had to be their thing, their secret, but that she believed in her.

  She went to sleep that night having made long lists of possible future options, people with gifts specific to her, ways of doing things that would ultimately help only Penny.

  5

  I’d hardly got going with my skills back then, but what I managed to do with Millie Turner after that dance class was another key discovery. I’d been in such pain; there was no way I would have been dancing again that week or month had she not been able to heal me. But she had. I had my miracle doctor, a miracle healer, ready to use if and when I required it. A part of me became more reckless after that incident, I know it now, looking back. It was as if I felt immortal, invincible, which for a moment I did. It was a powerful temptation.