by Clare Revell
Amy read it. “It’s not a great surprise,” she said quietly. “Jodie’s always drawing pictures that contain gravestones with her initials on them. I’ll talk to her.”
“If there is anything I can do to help, let me know. We do have a counselor at the school, and if Dane thinks it’s warranted I can refer her.”
“I will.” She stood up and gave him the papers back. “Thank you.” She headed outside to where the girls sat. “OK, let’s go home and get tea on for your dad.”
“What did he want?”
“He’s worried about your grades and lack of homework.”
“Yeah, well, English is boring.”
“Unfortunately, it’s a necessary evil. You need it.”
“I want to be an architect.”
“You still need English. How else are you going to read the plans? Or submit a planning proposal or a patent?”
“Oh.”
Amy nodded slowly. “But, if you’d like, I’ll help you with it. Get you back on track.”
“You will?” Jodie looked hopeful.
“However, you have to promise me you’ll try. Otherwise, Mr. Page is going to have to talk to your dad.”
“OK. I’ll try.”
“Cool. So how much homework is overdue?”
Jodie shrugged and looked around. “About six weeks’ worth so six pieces.”
Amy sighed. “So we start tonight and tackle one piece a night. How does that sound?”
Jodie rolled her eyes. “Like a heck of a lot of work.”
Amy winked. “Also might shock Mr. Page. Not to mention it’ll give him a whole lot of extra marking to do.”
“Sounds good to me.”
10
The next morning Amy came home from the school run to find Jodie’s coat and bag still in the hall. She sighed and shut the front door and hung up her coat. Then she took the stairs, two at a time, as noisily as she could. So much for the promises Jodie had made the previous day, as they’d completed the first piece of homework which Jodie had planned on handing in that day.
Amy pushed open Jodie’s bedroom door, not bothering to knock.
Jodie lay curled up on the bed, sobbing. Huge, heartbreaking sobs that shook her whole body. Her hands gripped her stomach tightly. Maybe she wasn’t skiving this time. She was sick.
Amy sat on the bed next to her. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”
“Dying…” Jodie choked out between sobs.
Amy gently rubbed her back, trying to comfort her. “I’m sure you’re not. What’s wrong?”
“Am.”
“Jodie, talk to me. Something’s been wrong for a while and all the gravestones you’ve drawn tell me it’s something huge and really bothering you.”
“I’m dying.”
“Sweetie, you’re not dying. But if you’re sick, then I can take you to a doctor.”
“No…” Fear flashed in Jodie’s face.
“Then tell me what’s wrong. Maybe there’s something I can do to help.”
“My stomach hurts,” she whispered. “Hurts a lot.” She reached under the bed and handed over a bag full of bloodied clothing. “I can’t stop it.”
Amy looked at her, the penny dropping. “Oh, Jodie.” She put the bag down and hugged her tightly. “How long, sweetie?”
“Three months. I’m running out of clothes cos I throw them away, but it doesn’t matter.”
“I promise you, you’re not dying. This is perfectly normal. It means you’re a woman now and not a little girl anymore. I’ll show you what to do as I have some stuff in my room. Then, after I’ve rung the school and told them you won’t be in today, we’ll make some cocoa and have a woman-to-woman chat. After that, we’ll go to the chemist, and I’ll get you everything you’ll need. I can wash all this, and we’ll buy you new things, too. But you’re not dying.”
Relief sparked in her eyes. “Really?”
“Really.” Amy hugged her.
Ten minutes later, they sat in the kitchen, steaming cups of cocoa and marshmallows in front of them. Comfort food, especially designed for that time of the month.
Horror crossed Jodie’s face. “At least five days, every month, for years? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Didn’t the school have lessons?”
Jodie wrinkled her nose. “Well, only about yucky stuff and boys.”
“And I guess your dad didn’t know how to talk to you about this.”
“Dad knows about this stuff? But it doesn’t affect him at all.”
“Yeah, he knows. It’s just not something men like to talk about. But yeah, all men know about this, especially the married ones.”
“So I’m not dying?”
Amy shook her head. “Nope, you’re not dying. Not for a long time yet. So promise me, no more gravestones.”
“I promise.” Jodie tilted her head. “Although, didn’t we already have that conversation?”
Amy rolled her eyes. “Ack, don’t you get cheeky with me, madam. And that was homework, not gravestones.”
“Same thing.” Jodie laughed.
Amy grinned. “And in future, don’t hide the clothes under the bed. Just rinse them in cold water and put them straight in the washing machine. I do washing almost every day anyway.” She hugged her. “And if you need the sheets changed, let me know.”
Jodie hugged her back. “Thank you, Amy.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie.”
Each day over the half-term break, Amy took the girls out for at least part of the day. They went swimming, horseback riding, to the park or into town. She’d finally gotten them to try on all their clothes and worked out what fitted and what didn’t. What didn’t fit was bagged up and put in the clothing bin in the recycling center.
She took the girls shopping, which wasn’t the nightmare Dane said it would be. Vicky and Jodie even seemed to enjoy being given virtual free rein over their new clothes. Amy had to overrule a few of Jodie’s choices, but on the whole both girls had good taste.
The difference in Jodie was marked. Now she knew she wasn’t dying, she turned out to have a wicked sense of humor and would often offer to help do things without being asked. It was just a shame her father was too busy at work to notice.
Friday, the day of the light party, came all too quickly. As Nate and Adeline were at the hospital, Vianne was spending the entire day with Jodie and Vicky. Not that she saw them much, or that one more child really made that much difference to the chaos in the house.
The girls had shut themselves in the study making pictures and decorations for the dining room and the lounge. Music played at full volume from behind the closed door.
Amy had spent the morning assembling and icing the cake, before giving the girls lunch. The afternoon passed rapidly, as she busied herself with the rest of the food preparation for the evening. Dane had put a no trick-or-treating notice on the front door, which he assured her wouldn’t result in the house getting egged.
Finally, the girls appeared with an arm full of bunting and pictures. She handed over enough tape and blu-tac to last a lifetime and set them to decorating the rooms as they saw fit, while she laid out the food on the dining table, taking care to make sure it was all covered with foil or cake covers to keep it fresh.
The phone rang. “Jodie, can you answer that, please?”
She looked at the table. She was missing something. But what?
Vicky tugged at her arm and signed to her.
“Of course. The cake. How could I forget?”
Vicky signed slowly enough for her to follow.
Amy mimed shock. “I am not old, you horror.”
Vicky laughed and nodded.
She shook her head, laughing and went back to the kitchen, returning with the fairy castle cake. She placed it on the center of the table.
Vicky’s eyes widened as she saw it.
Amy was pleased with how it had turned out. This time she’d added a moat and green coconut fields around it and taken seve
ral photos as she built it. The windows were wafer biscuits, coconut ice, and small colored sweets. The turrets were Swiss rolls topped with ice cream cones, the main body of the cake a Madeira sponge. The whole thing was covered in a delicious baby pink butter icing and sugar crystals. No doubt Dane would tut and complain about sugar overload, but it wasn’t as if she did this every day of the week.
Jodie came in with the phone. “It’s for you.”
“Me? Is it your dad?”
“No. Some man, asked for you by name.”
“Oh.” The blood in her veins turned to ice, and she fought the desire to close her eyes. Whoever could it be? No one knew she was here. She wasn’t on the electoral register and all her ID was fake. “Did he say who he was?”
“Nope. I’m figuring someone from church or something.”
She took the phone. Perhaps Jodie was right. A nice simple explanation. “Hello?”
Silence. A long silence. Was that breathing? Surely the calls weren’t going to start up again. She hung up and tugged down her red jumper.
She wandered across to the window to close the curtains. A car pulled up and parked opposite. A tall figure dressed as the grim reaper got out and leaned against the car, staring at her. The door of the house across the road opened and a woman dressed as a cat stood outlined against the light, complete with ears and a long tail. There must be a party.
The phone rang again almost immediately. “Hello?”
Heavy breathing echoed in her ear. Then a deep husky voice, “Red suits you.”
Amy screamed, dropping the phone, and pulling the curtains so fast, the pole came down narrowly missing her. It hit a vase, sending it smashing to the floor, glass spraying everywhere almost in slow motion.
She dropped to her knees amongst the broken glass shards. She struggled for breath, tears running down her face as panic flooded her.
He found me. How? I’ve been so careful.
11
Dane raced through the dark streets, driving as fast as he legally could. What could have happened? Jodie’s phone message was garbled to say the least, panic spilling into her voice. Something about Amy crying and being far too upset to even move off the floor. The curtains were broken and a vase, and there was blood, too. He’d told Jodie to ring Pastor Jack and get him and Cassie to come over early and that he’d be home as soon as he could. He’d texted Nate, asking him to go straight to his place when he and Adeline left the hospital.
Dane swung onto the drive, relieved to see Pastor Jack’s car parked there. Lights shone from all the windows. Pastor Jack stood in the lounge window, sweater sleeves pulled up to his elbows as he held something above his head. It looked as if he were fixing the curtains. Nodding a greeting to him, Dane ran up the path, pulling out his keys.
The door opened as he got to it. Pastor Jack stood there. “Hi.”
“Pastor, thanks for coming. Where is she? Is she OK? What about the girls? Are they all right?”
“Amy’s in the lounge with Cassie. The girls are fine. Jodie has them all decorating biscuits in the kitchen. I’m keeping half an eye on them and fixing your curtain pole, which is back up on the wall, now. Just need to rehang the curtains. I also re-bandaged Amy’s wrist. She cut it again on the broken glass from the vase. Jodie’s got a good head on those shoulders. When we got here, she’d wrapped a towel around Amy’s wrist and had gotten Vianne in the kitchen keeping Vicky occupied. They were singing in sign language.”
“Thank you.” Dane stripped off his coat. “Did she say what happened? Jodie’s call didn’t make much sense.”
“Amy hasn’t said anything. She’s really too upset to do anything other than sit there, right now. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything—let you talk to Amy alone.”
Dane nodded and headed into the lounge.
Cassie got up. “I’ll go help Jack with the girls.”
“Thanks.” He moved over to Amy and sat on the floor beside her. “Amy?”
She turned, almost throwing herself into his arms and clinging to him tightly, the same way Vicky did.
Taken aback, he held her fast as she sobbed. He didn’t move, other than to comfort her, knowing that right now she needed his physical presence more than anything he could say. It had been a long time since he’d held a woman in his arms, yet his body stirred. He shook himself. Now wasn’t the time for his long dormant emotions to wake. She needed him focused. But what could possibly have upset her so? Because something had scared her. And if that something turned out to be a someone, they weren’t going to get away with it.
Finally the tears subsided, and the shaking stopped.
He reached into his pocket and gave her his hanky. “Here. What happened? Jodie was really worried. She said a man rang and you got really upset.”
“Sorry,” she managed, wiping her eyes.
“Don’t be sorry. Has something happened to your friend? Did her husband call?”
“No. It wasn’t Ray who rang.”
“Do you know who it was?”
She shook her head slowly.
Dane frowned, puzzled. He’d been sure Jodie said the caller asked for Amy by name. Maybe he’d misheard her, but he had to make sure. “Jodie said he asked for you by name.”
“I don’t know him.” She waved her hands. “Just an ‘unpleasant’ call.”
“What did he say?” Dane’s copper’s instincts came on full alert. He knew all too well what those calls usually consisted of. He kept close hold of her, realizing his heart was beating in perfect time with hers.
“Heavy breathing. Told me I looked good in red,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes, hiding his automatic reaction and swallowed down the surge of rage. “I’ll get a trace put on the line in case he calls again.”
“Please, don’t. Just change the number.”
He grimaced. “And if he does this to someone else?”
“Please, change the number.”
“I can’t just drop this.” Every ounce of copper’s blood in him told him what he had to do.
“Yes, you can. What if it’s Jodie next time?” She looked up at him, her normally pale face red and blotchy. “Please, Dane, I beg you, just change the number.”
Jodie stuck her head around the door. “I was thinking. Perhaps it’s James.”
Dane looked at her. “Who’s James?”
“He’s this really creepy nerd from my science class. He’s also in my form. Ginger hair, freckles, glasses. He keeps going on and on about Amy and how she’s hot.” Jodie scrunched up her nose. “Not that you’re not pretty, Amy, but you’re old enough to be his mother. That’s just ewwww. He must have gotten the landline number from my phone when he borrowed it to play a game a couple of days ago.”
Dane raised an eyebrow. “James who?”
“He’s just a numpty. He’ll get over it.”
“Jodie? Where did you get to?” Pastor Jack’s voice echoed from the kitchen.
“Coming…” Jodie vanished again.
“See,” Amy whispered. “Please, just change the number.”
“OK.” And he’d go ex-directory as well. And block the number so no one could find it by dialing 1-4-7-1.
“Thank you.”
He hugged her. With all the cult activity going on up at Maranatha Farm, was it possible it was happening here in town as well? “Do you want me to cancel tonight?”
“No. The girls are looking forward to it. They’ve spent all day on the decorations.” She glanced around. “Where are they?”
“Pastor Jack’s had them busy in the kitchen icing biscuits. That’s when he wasn’t fixing your wrist and putting the curtain pole back up.”
“I broke it. I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing.”
“OK. Pastor Jack is a man of many talents. God certainly blessed the church when He sent him as pastor.”
Dane smiled. “That He did.”
Amy took a deep breath. “I probably look a sight.”
Dane to
ok in her blotchy, swollen face and shook his head. “You’re fine.”
“Liar.”
He paused, then nodded. “Not a very good one, I’m afraid.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her lips. What would it be like to kiss her? His eyes searched hers. “Just as long as you’re all right.”
Amy held his gaze. She moved closer, her lips now a fraction away from his. “I think so.”
He moved closer, his nose brushing against hers. “Amy…” He kissed her gently, his hand sliding around her neck, catching her earlobe.
She shuddered as she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him back.
He pulled her close, shutting his eyes as he kissed her again. She was responsive, her body soft against his. His nerve endings tingled and came alive, his heart pounding. Every fiber of his being reacted as if she were the first woman he’d ever kissed.
The door opened. Nate’s voice shattered the moment. “Dane, is everything—” He broke off.
Dane pulled back, not letting go of Amy, who had gone a very attractive shade of bright red. “Everything’s fine.”
“I’ll, uh, I’ll be in the kitchen.” Nate backed through the door, closing it behind him.
Dane grinned. “That is the first time I have ever seen him lost for words.” He tilted his head, running his finger down Amy’s jaw line and across her lips. “Have I kissed you senseless?”
She nodded, not taking her gaze from his face.
“Can I do it again?”
She nodded.
Dane closed his eyes, losing himself in kissing her.