by Lex Sinclair
‘Is there anything we can do?’ Sherri asked, not recognising the tremor in her voice.
‘I don’t think so,’ Martha replied. ‘Keeping an eye on the street is all well and good, but what happens if they do see four hooded strangers on our street? Can they stop something that is a visible ghost? Maybe it would be better if we all just packed up our belongings and stayed in a hotel. Perhaps I ought to apply to be taken in at a nursing home. I’d lose the luxuries one has of living on their own. I’ve already lost poor, sweet, Homer and had myself a terrible nightmare. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, until my heart gives out.’
‘My house is all I’ve got,’ Sherri said. ‘I’ve got no other place to go.’
‘If what you read in that library book was in fact true, then we really are living on top of their graves. Also, if they’re devil-worshippers, they aren’t going to be looking for an apology. They’re here for one purpose and one purpose alone... Vengeance.’
10.
Naomi’s mouth gaped at the man standing on her doorstep, clean-shaved, smiling, but looking nervous at the same time. He cleared his throat, wiped his sweaty palms on his plaid shirt and greeted the woman he still, and always loved, in the doorway.
‘What’re you doing here?’ Naomi gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth.
The man shifted uncomfortably on his feet, going bright red in the cheeks, embarrassed at the question, and shrugged. ‘I wanted to come and see you and Corrie,’ he said.
Everything in Naomi’s perspective turned a shade of grey, and she had to fight to maintain her consciousness.
‘I know me comin’ here is totally out of the blue... maybe I should’ve phoned first... but I thought that if I phoned you first you might tell me to bugger off. At least this way, I could get to see you face to face.’ He saw that she looked unsteady. ‘Hey, are you all right?’
Naomi shook her head, said, ‘Brian, what are you doing here?’
‘I just wanted to see you and Corrie,’ he repeated. ‘Since you left, I’ve had a chance to do a lot of thinking about the things I did... and I know I could never make up for all the wrongs I did - but I guess I was hoping if I could just come in for a little while and talk, then maybe you’ll allow me to stay in touch with you. Or at least allow me to contact you so I can see my daughter once in awhile. I’ve already missed a lot of her growing up. I don’t wanna miss any more.’
‘I never stopped you in the first place,’ Naomi heard herself say. ‘You just never bothered to call.’
Brian nodded. ‘I know. And I’m ashamed of my behaviour towards the pair of you, that’s why I wanna make up for lost time. I understand if you don’t want me in your life, but maybe I could still be a part of Corrie’s.’
The world from Naomi’s perspective floated beneath her like one giant tidal wave. She was too afraid to move from the doorframe, because most likely she’d lose her balance and go crashing to floor. God knows what would happen then with her front door wide open - practically inviting the madman she’d married what seemed now like a thousand years ago into her home - where Corrie was unprotected.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked again. ‘You look like you ought to sit down.’
Naomi nodded.
‘Look, I’m sorry if I frightened you. I didn’t mean to. It’s just I wanted to explain the changes I’ve made in my life since I last saw you, that’s all.’
The world beyond Naomi’s vision was no longer grey. It had returned to its normal colours once more. For the time being she’d fought off the dizziness.
‘May I come in? Please.’ Brian gazed at her with soft, pleading eyes.
‘I dunno,’ she replied.
‘I’m not gonna hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just wanna chance to say what I got to say... then I’ll be gone. Perhaps I could leave you my new phone number, and if you like you can get in touch with me.’
The moment it took for Naomi to decide what she should do seemed to last for ever, but in reality took less than a minute. In all that time Brian said nothing to persuade her.
He gazed at her, looking like an entirely different person to the madman that used to chase her all through the house, banging his clenched fists on the wall, knocking ornaments off the mantel, smashing mirrors and vases, until he finally found where she was hiding, gripped her by her hair and dragged her out into the open, paying no attention to his wife’s screams of fear and pain, then he’d punch and kick and slap her until she was lying in a heap on the floor, half-conscious, bleeding from the nose and mouth, groaning and whimpering under her breath.
When Corrie had tried to save her mummy one time, she’d been smacked hard across her angelic, unblemished face, knocking her down instantly. Naomi had struggled to her feet that time (her anger the main driving force) and raked her long nails across Brian’s face, drawing blood. She remembered the incredulous expression on his face, seeing his own blood (seeing red), then coming after her with vehemence. That deep glare behind wild, protruding eyes, intent on not just beating her like he usually did but to end her miserable life once and for all.
‘I can’t,’ she croaked, fighting the urge to cry.
Brian’s head sunk into his chest, disappointed, yet understanding her decision as well. ‘Would it be all right if I could see Corrie? I haven’t seen her for so long - and I know I’ve got no one to blame but myself for that - I’m starting to forget what she looks like. It’s breaking my heart. Please, Naomi. I know I broke your heart and hurt you so bad I should be in prison - but I’m begging you for this one thing.’
As much as loathed the man in front of her (or at least she thought she did), she did feel sympathy for him standing there helpless, pathetic, tears brimming in his eyes, begging to see his daughter.
‘I just wanna tell her that I’m sorry, and that I love her.’
Naomi contemplated what she was about to say next. Then she said: ‘If - and I mean if - I let you in for half an hour to see Corrie, and you step out of line, even slightly. Or if you break her heart again, I swear to God, I don’t give a shit how tough you are I will kill you with my own bare hands. Do you understand?’
Brian nodded. ‘I understand, Naomi.’
She stared at him a long time, hardly recognising him, yet seeing him evoked all the joyful times they had shared before he turned into an aggressive man, who beat on his wife and child.
She pulled the door open all the way, permitting him access to the house.
Brian stepped over the threshold after wiping his Nike trainers on the welcome mat. ‘Thank you,’ he said.
‘Go and wait in the living room, while I get Corrie. And remember what I said Brian. This is your last chance. You fuck it up and that’s it.’
He nodded in complete agreement. He knew he was very fortunate to have this opportunity after the colossal mistakes he’d made. He went into the living room area and sat down on the comfortable sofa, fidgeting with his hands, telling himself over and over to be calm and not to get too emotional about this reunion with his daughter, after all this time.
It was thinking about Corrie and Naomi which eventually gave Brain the courage to beat the booze, and to face up to his wrongdoings once and for all, which enabled him to become a man again in the fullest sense of the word.
He could hear their footfalls descending the stairs. He licked his dry lips, waiting anxiously for the moment his eyes would lock onto Corrie’s.
She stood in the doorway holding her mother’s hand, looking equally as nervous as he was.
Hi, Corrie, hon,’ he said, losing the battle to not let a tear escape him.
‘Daddy!’ she said in that sweet, tender voice that was music to his ears, and let go of her mother’s tightening grip and hurried across the room, leaping into his embrace.
Brian’s eyes swam with tears of joy as
he held his daughter, reminding himself not to squeeze her in case he caused her more pain, meeting his wife’s gaze, silently thanking her for her generosity.
‘I love you, Corrie,’ he said, letting tears stream down his face, overwhelmed with this moment he would never forget for the rest of his life. It was like being injected with an overdose of the world’s most potent feel-good drug, without any side effects.
‘I love you too, Daddy,’ she said, and Brian would’ve quite happily died right there, holding his daughter, listening to her utter those words, reverberating in his heart and mind.
At last they pulled away from each other. But Brian could have stayed like that for the rest of the day. A five minute hug was a long time, but not for those who had thought they’d never see their loved ones ever again.
Once they got comfortable, Brian looked both his wife and daughter directly in the eye and went on to give them details about how he’d spent the last couple of years going to AA meetings, confessing his awful, shameful wrongdoings to psychotherapists, and learning a lot about himself that he’d tried to conceal. He’d been living a life of denial, thinking that it was the world that owed him a living and not himself. Feeling sorry for himself was not the answer to his problems, and had he continued to go on like that, there was no doubt in his mind he would either be dead by now or in a prison, because he would not face up to harsh reality. And the reality was - he had a big drinking problem and a lot of unbidden anger inside him, pent-up all these years which fuelled his rage.
‘I’m sorry for hurting you and neglecting you, sweetheart,’ he said regarding Corrie. I can never take back what I did. I wish I could, but I can’t. But I just wanted you to know that I do love you and care about you a lot. If it wasn’t for me thinking of you two these past couple of years, I very much doubt I’d be sitting here on the sofa with you today.’
Naomi could see he was telling the truth. Also, there was something different about Brian. A new aura. He seemed broken down, quiet, tender and there was a profound sadness in his eyes that had obliterated the madman and now revealed what lay beneath all those layers.
Brian slid a hand into his jeans and fished out a wad of cash, offering it to Naomi. ‘I want you to take this,’ he said. ‘It’s not much. But I wanted to get some money and security behind myself before I came to see you two again. Over the last couple of years I owe you more than that - but it’s just my way of showing you that I know I made a lot of irrevocable mistakes and that I’m doing everything I can to get my life back on track.’
The wad of cash in Naomi’s hands had a twenty-pound note on the top. She didn’t want to take the elastic band off and start counting it there and then - that would be rude and ungrateful. However, she wondered how much she was holding in her hands altogether. Then a thought came to her flashing neon colours.
‘I hope you’re not trying to buy my forgiveness, Brian,’ she said, surprised at how brusque she sounded. ‘Coming here today with your apologies and a bundle of money doesn’t change a thing.’
Her husband nodded, holding his hands up in an I-understand-gesture. ‘I’m not trying to buy your forgiveness, Naomi. I just wanted to come here with something a little more substantial than an “I’m sorry”, that’s all.’
Corrie glanced at the bundled notes, and then back at her father, who looked nothing like she remembered; although, her memory of him was hazy. ‘That’s a lot of money, Dad.’
‘No more than you deserve,’ he replied. Then he pushed his hands on the sofa, getting to a vertical base with exertion. ‘I better go... I’m sorry, Naomi. That’s what I wanted you to know more than anything else. And, maybe, I could keep in touch if that’s not too much to ask for.’
She was still staring at the money when she asked, ‘How much is here, Brian?’
‘Three hundred,’ he said. ‘From now on I’d like to contribute money for you and Corrie, if that’s all right?’
Naomi didn’t want to admit it, but the money would help her immensely. Yet, unlike her daughter, she couldn’t merely forget the past, like it had never happened. On the same token, though - she didn’t want to deprive Corrie of having a father.
‘If you like, Corrie and I were going to take a walk across the bridge and alongside the canal. She likes to go there. You can come with us, if you want?’
Brian smiled. ‘I’d love to,’ he said.
***
Hugh couldn’t sit in the chair for long because his hip started aching. Instead he would get up and pace the attic, keeping a close watch on Willet Close through the window, waiting for Joe to return with some more Diet Cokes.
As he did this, he saw the front door of number four open. Naomi stepped out first; then Corrie followed holding a man’s hand with shades of grey in his black hair, beaming at him, scarcely taking her eyes off him for a second. Hugh had never seen this bloke before, but assumed that whoever he was, Naomi must like him enough to invite him in to her home and allow him to hold her daughter’s hand.
‘Who’s that?’
Hugh jumped, clutching his heart. ‘Jesus H. Christ, Joe! Why don’t you just get a gun or an axe and finish me off quickly.’
Joe rested a hand on top of Hugh’s shoulder, not looking at him as he handed his Coke, but keeping his gaze on the woman he was deliberating on asking out on a date. That notion melted before him, like the recent snow they’d had as he watched the three of them walk down the street - a happy family. He should’ve known it was too good to be true. Naomi was too pretty to be without a partner for any length of time. He should’ve been quicker off the mark. He’d had his chance to ask her out on more than one occasion - but he didn’t. He had no one to blame but himself.
‘It’s not the end of the world. Trust me,’ Hugh said.
Joe was a little alarmed at how the old-timer seemed to read his thoughts like most people read a book. ‘What d’you mean? I just asked who he was; no big deal.’
Hugh nodded. ‘I’ve never seen him until right now; although my guess is he’s either Naomi’s boyfriend or the girl’s father.’
‘Say how ‘bout knocking this Neighbourhood Watch lark on the head for a couple of hours and watch one of my fights?’
Hugh could see the sullen, pained expression Joe was doing well to hide, and would’ve hidden from most people. Nevertheless, Hugh recognised that look because it was the same one he put on for the benefit for his friends and neighbours when he was in a considerable amount of pain.
***
When Brian walked Corrie and Naomi back to their house and said goodbye, his heart wasn’t beating but purring like a contented cat living a life of luxury. At that moment as he went down the path back onto the pavement, he felt like whooping at the top of his lungs, a broad grin spread across his features wrinkling at the corners of his eyes where there’d been no wrinkles previously. They were called laughing or smiling wrinkles, and the sole reason he hadn’t had any there until today was because he’d had nothing to laugh or smile about. Yet Brian would’ve gone through another couple of years of misery and anguish to feel what he felt right now. The emotions coursing through his system were far greater, far richer than any drug he’d taken, or any drink he’d tasted.
Love was a drug, he thought. The most addictive, healthiest drug in the world.
He ambled down the hill at a fairly quick speed, gazing at the sun slowly slipping behind the mountain peaks, beneath the horizon, painting the cloudless sky a soft pink hue.
Brian also brought to mind the events that had been occurring around this area. He’d asked Naomi about it, listening to her account of the events that had unfolded, astonished at what he was told, not disbelieving her, just astonished at the gruesome deaths and macabre of the entire situation. He was too timid to ask candidly if she and Corrie would like to move back in with him (at least for the time being) until the perpetrator was apprehen
ded. Although, he did mention that they still had a home in the nearby village opposite the post office. Naomi hadn’t said no outright, although she did say that her neighbours were doing a twenty-four hour surveillance on the street after what happened to her next door neighbour’s dog.
Anyway, it was probably for the best, he thought, walking on the pavement. He didn’t want to go pushing his luck. Naomi wouldn’t just simply let him come back into their lives as though nothing bad had happened. He was very fortunate to be given this second chance, and for that chance he was eternally grateful. If he fucked up this time, then that was it. Period.
As he reached the bottom of the hill, Brian crossed the road at the roundabout and then down the concrete steps towards the canal where they’d been with Corrie. It would be quicker this way, because he wouldn’t have to cross any more side streets or use any pelican crossings back to his car in the all day parking section behind the railway station. Furthermore, it was a lot quieter and peaceful. The traffic passing overhead was only background noise. What Brian wanted now was peace, so he could reflect on the time he’d spent with his wife and daughter, envisioning all the intricacies, from things they said, did, and how they looked since the last time he’d seen them.
It hurt him a lot, though, when he’d seen how much Corrie had grown, realising how much of her growing up he’d missed and ignored when she was there. Back then, all he thought about was the next drink; or where he could get alcohol, either first thing in the morning or last thing at night, without causing suspicion; without being accused of being lazy and selfish.
A family of four swans floated past on the surface of the canal in one straight line.