The Moors: Some secrets are better left buried

by Jody Medland

  *

  At the dinner table, the feeling that anything was possible continued to stimulate Amanda as she monitored the other residents’ behaviour closely. With the exception of David, Ellie and the groundskeeper, whom Amanda had yet to encounter, they were all in attendance. Margaret spoon-fed Malcolm having mashed his dinner up into a paste, making it easier to digest; Walter helped Gordon by cutting his food into small pieces; Christian watched over Georgina as they both enjoyed their meal and upon looking at Reuben, who was sat staring at Amanda, she playfully poked her tongue out at him. He didn’t expect it and was forced into a slow, secret smile. Indeed, Karen was the only carer neglecting to actually show care for anyone around her as she ate in stony silence. She didn’t acknowledge a soul, including her doting husband. All in all, things had taken shape quite nicely, but Amanda felt there was still progress to be made before the day was through.

  ‘What are we going to do about Ellie?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh, I’ll take her dinner up when I’m done,’ answered Christian, casually, politely covering his mouth with a napkin as he spoke.

  ‘I was talking more about the fact she doesn’t really interact with anyone.’

  As if by magic, her words had managed to steal Karen’s attention.

  ‘We each see Ellie every day,’ added Walter, just to make sure she knew that was the case.

  ‘That’s great! As you should, but that’s up in her room, right? She’s holed up with barely any daylight. It’s not good for her,’ said Amanda.

  ‘Alright. That’s it!’ snapped Karen. ‘I’ve had enough of your interference! We’ve run this home a good many years before you got here and we’ll continue to do so long after you’ve gone. These children are sick and they need routine,’ she insisted.

  ‘I agree, but some of the routines you provide would be better suited in a prison,’ quipped Amanda, adopting the same kind of laidback demeanour she’d seen Christian use when winding her up so effectively.

  ‘Are you going to sit there and listen to this?’ Karen asked of Christian.

  Amanda found it odd that she would always look to him for support as opposed to her husband.

  Christian thought for a moment as he calmly chewed on his food. He crossed the cutlery on his plate and placed his elbows on the table as he interlinked his fingers, peering at Amanda over the top of his clasped hands.

  ‘What would you propose we do?’ he asked her.

  ‘I didn’t mean reason with her!’ Karen seethed.

  ‘If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear her thoughts. I’m sure she means well but, by the same token, she may not realise the severity of Ellie’s condition, so I’m happy to talk this through,’ he insisted.

  ‘This is outrageous!’ spat Karen as she squirmed in her chair.

  Yet another stage had been set on which Amanda intended to shine.

  ‘You’re quite right. I don’t know everything about Ellie yet, but I’ve been here for three days now and seen her only once and spending so much time alone, especially when vulnerable, cannot be helping. The same goes for David,’ she added.

  ‘Now she’s a psychologist!’ Karen mocked.

  Amanda knew that Karen’s impatience was a sign she was winning, so she ignored her petty comments and explained herself collectedly, focusing all of her attention on Christian.

  ‘All I ask is to spend more time with them both so I can integrate them better with the other children. It will help,’ she assured him, feeling absolutely convinced herself.

  ‘I have no problem with that,’ admitted Christian. ‘But my primary concern is safety, so I want you to spend time alone with Ellie in her room until you’re sure you can handle her around the others. Agreed?’

  As Christian spoke, Amanda had noted the reactions of everybody around the table. It was clear they couldn’t quite believe what they were hearing. In a place so regimented, rules didn’t simply change at the drop of a hat, yet there he was agreeing to almost anything Amanda requested. He would add his own set of conditions, but all the same, Amanda had to give him credit. He was hard but fair and that was cause for great optimism. In the faces of Margaret and the children, Amanda could sense her own inner joy was shared by those that mattered.

  ‘Excellent!’ Amanda beamed. ‘I’ll start by taking Ellie her dinner.’

  *

  The verbal agreement to spend some one-on-one time with Ellie was a significant step in the right direction, but as Amanda approached the girl’s bedroom and fumbled for key number 5, her mind told her that winning Ellie’s acceptance would be another battle entirely. In one hand, she balanced a tray that held a plastic plate, plastic cutlery and an apple. She had been told that plastics had to be used with Ellie at all times due to her attempts at suicide and these utensils were only allowed whilst Ellie was in the company of an adult.

  Upon reaching door 5, Amanda was sharply reminded of their last encounter. She observed the hand that held the tray. It was shaking. Not until that moment did Amanda realise she was genuinely afraid. However, getting Ellie onside was a key part of her plan and so without delaying any further, she took a deep breath and unlocked the door. She darted inside and placed the tray on the floor before Ellie had time to register her presence. As suspected, she wasn’t best pleased to see Amanda, who was little more than a stranger to her. Ellie jumped up from her bed and charged at the intruder, but now that Amanda knew what to expect, the struggle that ensued wasn’t quite so daunting and she dealt with the situation far more easily, manoeuvring Ellie into a grip where, despite her impressive strength and determination, she was unable to cause any damage. Amanda closed her eyes and started to count. It was one hundred and eighteen seconds before Ellie’s rage subsided. Little-by-little, Amanda released her grip, tightening it again immediately when Ellie’s aggression rose, teaching the youngster that her freedom came at the price of calmness. Like a dog whose trainer tightened a lead around its neck whenever it did wrong, Ellie soon learnt that she would be afforded her space if only she relaxed.

  Once free, Ellie ran back over to her bed, curling up into a foetal position with her back to Amanda and her hands covering her ears. Her body language suggested she felt hard done by. Amanda monitored her for several minutes and gathered that the girl merely felt frustrated – completely understandable given that she had been treated like a prisoner.

  Amanda sat patiently with her back against the wall and the plate of food lying on the floor between them. On her first visit to the room, she hadn’t noticed a small bowl on the floor that appeared to be her toilet. Maybe it was empty last time, but right now the half-filled bowl of urine stank up the place. It had been partially spilled in the tussle and the smell made the silence seem eternal.

  ‘You have a beautiful name!’ said Amanda, desperate to begin a conversation.

  As a child, particularly a child in the custody of various homes and foster parents, Amanda had been in front of endless adults trying to negotiate a way to win her trust. It was the sincere way that her own favourite artificial mother had complimented her name that led Amanda to often use this as her opening line when talking to children.

  ‘I knew a girl called Ellie when I was at school. She was my best friend,’ she continued.

  Amanda did not expect a response but she knew the girl could do nothing but listen. Therefore, she reasoned that if she was nice enough, Ellie would drop her defences eventually. The girl simply wasn’t used to company and so couldn’t be blamed for her lack of social skills or her vacant desire to improve them.

  ‘I’d like to take you out into the garden soon. You could play with the others. Would you like that?’ asked Amanda.

  Still there was no answer, but Amanda persevered. She spoke niceties and informed the girl of general things such as what the weather was like and what the other kids had been up to.

  ‘Dinner’s good today. I know because I helped make it,’ she said with a smile.

  It was Ellie’s determination not to eat that
led Amanda to feel defeated. As she had to take all the utensils with her, all she could do was leave the apple, which she desperately hoped the girl would eat, for what could she do if Ellie continued to reject the food? It didn’t even bear thinking about. All she could do was let the girl know she was in no way a threat, be kind and ensure her she would be back very soon, but in her mind she ran through possible tactics that might speed up the process of winning Ellie’s trust.

  As Amanda gently closed and locked Ellie’s door, her bubble had been well and truly burst. She wasn’t untouchable, after all. She couldn’t even make a starving girl eat nice food! At that moment, however, she realised she had inadvertently provided herself with an opportunity to explore the door to the isolation room. She peered down the hall to make sure nobody else was coming and then, at long last, crept silently along the narrow, pitch black corridor and up the stairs until she was able to place her hands on the door. She tapped on it gently.

  ‘Hello? Hello… David?’ she whispered. ‘David!’ she repeated, this time a little louder.

  She put her ear to the door and listened. She wasn’t to know how dark the room was inside, nor that the darkness magnified every single sound she made, serving only to frighten the young boy. If she could have seen him and the conditions he was being kept in, she would have tore the door down with her bare hands, for at the end of the isolation chamber, underneath a solitary window that angled the moonlight into the attic, young David Newsome stood hunched over – tired, hungry and terrified. Old rusty chains kept him upright, precisely as they had been fashioned to do.

  ‘Psssst! David!’ Amanda whispered once more.

  It’s no good. She thought. He won’t talk until he sees me. I’ll take care of that tomorrow.

  Resigned to her second crushing setback within just as many minutes, she walked away, oblivious to the boy’s helpless, lonely sobs on the other side of the door.

  *

  Amanda returned to the kitchen and quickly scraped Ellie’s untouched dinner into the bin so that Karen wouldn’t see it and latch onto her failure. She then worked hard to hide her disappointment before re-entering the dining room, where the residents were finishing off their meal. The silence, coupled with the expressions on everybody’s faces – Karen’s reddened cheeks and the sheepish uncertainty of the children – made it clear that tensions had been running high in her absence.

  ‘I hope it went well,’ said Karen, unable to hide her bitterness.

  ‘Very well, thank you,’ Amanda replied, feigning total satisfaction.

  If there was one thing Amanda hated, it was being goaded. It created a rush of blood to her head that often led her into irrational actions and without even thinking it through, she thought of another way to get at Karen.

  ‘Oh! I’d like to take Malcolm into town tomorrow, if you don’t mind?’ she blurted.

  ‘What?’ screeched Karen, irately.

  ‘What would you do when you got there?’ asked Christian.

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t been there myself yet and I’d like to know my way around. With your permission, I’d like to take him,’ Amanda replied.

  ‘It’s completely unnecessary. He wouldn’t take anything in,’ Karen dismissed.

  ‘That’s your opinion, but I happen to think the occasional trip may be useful. It certainly wouldn’t do any harm,’ Amanda countered.

  ‘Go to town. Yah! I’d like to go to town. Haven’t been there for 464 days. 464,’ Gordon muttered.

  ‘Well, maybe if tomorrow goes well, I can take you next time, Gord. And then you, Georgina! What do you think about that?’ she asked the young girl.

  It wasn’t often that an adult asked a question of a child within the house, and a subtle smile graced Georgina’s face as she considered the possibility.

  ‘Yah! I’d like to go. Me and Georgina would definitely like to go town,’ Gordon continued.

  ‘I’m sure Walter would be happy to take us. You do go there to get your morning papers, after all,’ Amanda prodded.

  Everybody’s eyes landed on Walter, but it was Karen’s gaze he felt most of all, her piercing stare burning through his skin like acid.

  ‘H-m,’ he grunted, resisting the urge to get too heavily involved.

  ‘I wanna go town!’ added Reuben.

  ‘Of course, Reuben! We wouldn’t leave you out,’ Amanda assured him.

  ‘Yah, 464 days,’ Gordon reminded them.

  ‘Can we go?’ asked an excited Georgina. ‘Can we?’

  Margaret attempted to hide her delight as the scene unfolded around the table. Christian suddenly felt the pressure from all angles.

  ‘You don’t have to decide now. Please, talk it through while I do the dishes,’ said Amanda, who gathered some plates, looked defiantly into Karen’s eyes and then stepped victoriously out of the room.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Serpent’s Kiss

  Sunday 13th February, 1972

  It had been a long day and nobody had felt the strain more than Christian, who sat drinking his favourite whiskey in his office. He loved his space and often found he was most comfortable in his own company. The fact he so revered privacy could partially explain how he found it so easy to turn his back on the outside world and move his family to Exmoor.

  On a nearby record player, Jonny Cash’s Ring of Fire played quietly as Christian studied an old photograph of himself with his parents. The picture captured what was a much happier time. Within the frozen image, Christian practically glowed with optimism, Margaret brimmed with happiness and Stanley, with his hands wrapped lovingly around both of them, wore a huge grin of content.

  Christian smiled as he stared at the image of his father, becoming lost in a series of rarely visited memories; memories that soon made the smile fade. So invested was Christian in his mind’s offerings that it took him a few moments to respond to the gentle knock at the door. When he answered, he was unsurprised to see Amanda, who on this occasion waited for an invite before stepping into his office. Just before she entered, she noticed Karen watching from the shadows but acted as though she hadn’t.

  ‘I’m sorry to bother you again,’ said Amanda. ‘I know you’re probably busy.’

  ‘Oh yeah! Busy getting through this,’ he joked, raising his glass as if toasting her before taking another swig of his drink. ‘What do you need?’

  ‘Well, I really just wanted to say I’m sorry if I’ve upset Karen. I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes here, but I really do feel there are things I’d like to explore.’

  ‘I think we get that,’ he replied.

  Unsure of how to take his mood, Amanda fell into an awkward silence.

  ‘It’s fine!’ insisted Christian. ‘Like I said, if I believe your ideas have credence, I’ll support you any way I can.’

  Amanda smiled. It was just the kind of response she was after.

  ‘Great!’ she said, encouraged by his support.

  She hesitated for a moment before glancing towards the phone that sat on his desk.

  ‘Is there anything else?’ he asked, noticing she was in no hurry to leave.

  ‘Umm... I wondered if I could use your phone?’

  ‘Of course!’ he said, pointing to it with an open palm. ‘It’s here any time you need it.’

  Amanda stalled for a moment to see if he would excuse himself. Instead, he headed over to the record player and sifted through his vinyl collection, making it clear she would have to deal with him being in the room. Slowly, she sat on the chair trying to think of the best way to approach her conversation with Tony as she dialled the number to the editorial office. As the phone rang, Christian poured himself another short, leaning against the large wooden unit on which the record player stood. He chose the song She’s Not There by The Zombies and closed his eyes as it played. He looked like a man actively trying to unwind, but it was an aim that proved difficult. On his neck, Amanda saw the string necklace on which she knew the claw was attached.

  Odd that he should wea
r it without his hunting gear. She thought.

  Suddenly, Tony answered, stealing her focus away.

  ‘Hello?’ he asked, somewhat gruffly.

  ‘Oh! Hi! It’s me,’ she replied, astutely aware that Christian could hear everything she said.

  ‘Where are you? You’re supposed to be here already!’ he reminded her, sounding agitated.

  ‘Yeah. I’m very well, thank you. How are things at home?’

  The warmth of Amanda’s voice was in stark contrast to the worry in Tony’s, but he was savvy. He could tell by the way she spoke that somebody was listening and that could only mean one thing. She was still at the home.

  ‘You promised me you’d leave!’ he hissed, under his breath.

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I just… it’s been so busy here that I’ve only just had the chance to call.’

  Dad? Where did that come from?

  Ever since her departure, Tony had been craving to see her, hear her voice and hold her. He had scarcely eaten and had been counting the minutes until she returned so he could make sure everything was alright between them, and there he was dealing with the crushing fact she would not be coming home, forcing the torture to continue. For Amanda, all she wanted was to tell him the great news; that she loved him, she missed him and she believed she was carrying his child, but all of those emotions had to be swallowed.

  Tony took a breath and tried to clear his head.

  ‘Just let me know you’re okay,’ he said.

  She looked up towards Christian, who still had his eyes closed, his body swaying to the music.

  ‘Yes,’ she replied.

  ‘And if you’re still there, you obviously still believe there’s a story?’