He rushes towards her and envelopes her with his arms.
‘Shhhh,’ he whispers. ‘It’s okay.’
He takes the vibrator from her clenched fist and places it beside the empty bottle. He strokes her hair, pushing tangled and damp strands away from her face. Ginger roots show against her black-dyed locks. He pulls her face towards his chest and holds her tightly. ‘Did it happen again?’
He feels her forehead brush against his chest as she nods.
‘Why didn’t you call me?’
She sniffs. The sound is loud and wet. She shakes her head.
‘You can always call me, darling. Whenever something like this happens, if ever you need me, just call. I’ll come home.’
She shakes her head again.
‘Can you tell me what happened?’
Her sobs get louder. He strokes her hair again and hushes her. Their bodies rock together. ‘It’s okay now, Star. I’m here. You’re safe. I love you. We’ll get past this, okay?’
She neither shakes nor nods her head but presses her cheek harder against his chest.
‘I love you,’ he whispers.
She does not reply.
Her silence stabs him in the chest. Her body is stiff and unyielding and it feels as though she is simply tolerating his touch.
‘Star, what’s happened to us?’ he asks.
‘I don’t know.’ Her voice sounds thick with resentment.
He doesn’t ask her anything else. He holds her in silence, letting anger gnaw at his stomach, wondering whether he is beyond caring and realising he isn’t. Whatever happens, she will always be his responsibility. He will care for her and hope that one day she will come back to him, just like she did four years ago. The memory of his temporary success chills him. If he knew then what he knows now, would he have bothered to travel worlds to save her? He has no answer to that question and is thankful he has never borne the burden of foresight.
When he saw her in Binah, her body was torn apart and it had been torture just to look at her, but he had never suspected how deep those wounds went. Lilith’s taint on Star remains. Now it is internalised. The damage the demon inflicted has never healed and Star’s obsessive behaviour is becoming more pronounced and more dangerous month by month. She has no doctor they can turn to. Officially she is still dead. It had seemed simpler that way at first and now it is too late. He is powerless to help her and day by day she pushes him further and further away.
Chapter 24
‘I should go back,’ Star whispers.
Satori stirs beside her. He yawns and opens his eyes. ‘Did you say something, Star?’
‘I should go back.’
‘Is this because of your compulsion, your dreams or us?’
‘I – we have a son.’
‘And we left him four years ago. Look, I know it’s getting harder for you, but give it time. Give us time, please.’
‘How much time?’
‘Star, darling, you survived. You survived a nightmare. I couldn’t have done what you did. That place was torture and yet you got stronger not weaker. Why now?’
‘I miss my son.’
Satori sighs. He puts his arms around her and pulls her wet face to his chest. ‘Our son isn’t human. Who knows what he is or what he will become?’
Star puts her arms around his shoulders and squeezes. Her ear and cheek press against his warm skin. She wants to squeeze until she crushes them both. He doesn’t struggle. Instead he strokes her hair. Gradually the tension flows out of her and her grip loosens.
‘Why do I feel like this?’ she asks.
‘I’m not sure,’ he answers.
‘Am I insane?’
‘Of course not. Neither of us is insane. We just know things other people don’t.’
‘But what about this compulsion, as you call it? Why is it happening to me? It took all my strength to resist today. I’m scared, Satori.’
‘I know you are. Maybe it’s a taint from Binah or Lilith? Let’s meditate together. We can wash your spirit clean. You can start again. Be who you are meant to be. Fulfil your potential.’
‘My potential.’ Star snorts.
‘Remember when we came back? You healed me, got us out of prison and helped Donna accept and grow from all that had happened to her. What makes you think you can’t do that for yourself? Why did you stop?’
‘It made me tired.’
‘Baby, you just need to recharge. I told you that. Use my energy, or the earth’s or the sun’s. Meditation will help. It’s stupid to turn your back on who you are, again.’
‘Stupid?’
Satori shrugs. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘You mean I’m stupid because I don’t want to mess around with this stuff like you do. Because I think it’s dangerous. You say I am strong because I survived where you couldn’t and yet you still question every fucking little thing I do, and then you wonder why sometimes I can’t stand being around you. So who’s stupid?’
He pulls away from her. His eyes narrow and he stares at her hateful face. His body shakes with anger. ‘I’m not as stupid as you think.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Star trembles as she waits for his answer.
‘Just that I know, but it’s your body, your life. I have no right to decide what’s best for you or who you should be with.’
‘No you don’t.’ Defensive anger makes her answer harsher than she planned.
‘I wish you’d told me though.’ Satori looks down at the duvet as if it is covered in a puzzle he must solve.
‘He didn’t want me to.’ Her voice is softer this time.
‘Why?’
‘Maybe he’s scared.’
‘I doubt it. What does he want from you, Star?’
‘To help me heal and give me time out. Pretty much what you want, except he understands that the answer isn’t always magic. Magic, magic and more magic, that’s all you understand, Satori. You don’t know me or what I need. When you look at me you see yourself with tits. I’m not you. I don’t want to be.’
‘But Ivan knows you?’
Star shrugs. ‘I think so. As well as I know myself, anyway.’
‘Do you want to be with him?’
‘I don’t want to always feel bullied and challenged. I don’t want to always hear that you know best when you clearly don’t.’
‘You think I bully you?’
‘I think you live your life assuming that you are the most important person in the world and deserve to have everything you want. I think you want me to be someone I am not. In fact I think as soon as I finish this sentence you’ll try to convince me that you only want me to “fulfil my potential”, my potential as you perceive it, of course.’
Satori frowns. ‘Maybe I should go?’
‘Maybe you should.’
He stares at her in silence and she wipes her nose with the back of her hand. She returns his stare. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispers.
‘What for?’
‘For not being what you want me to be.’
Satori shakes his head. ‘I only want you to be happy.’
‘Exactly.’
Chapter 25
Mike drives towards the motorway. In the reflection of the rear view mirror Freya catches glimpses of his face. His eyes watch the road with cold concentration. Ivan keeps turning around in his seat to frown at her or smile at the baby. She knows what they are both thinking.
‘I’m sorry,’ she says.
‘It’s what Dads are supposed to do, Sweetheart, get their daughters out of trouble.’ His eyes darken then clear again.
‘I wish I knew what happened.’
‘Did he hurt you?’ Mike asks.
A rush of hot anger floods the car. She realises her father sees her as the victim not the killer. Through all these years he has never blamed her, always himself. Now he must make up for letting her sister die by ensuring nothing can ever hurt his little girl. Even if he saw her as a cold-blooded murderess he would still want to sa
ve her, whatever it took.
‘He didn’t hurt me…and I know it sounds crazy, I don’t understand it myself, but I swear I didn’t hurt him either.’
Ivan turns to face her again. His stare penetrates her skin. His jaw is clenched and his mouth trembles.
‘I didn’t, Ivan. I loved him.’
‘We know, Love. No one is saying you killed Rob, are they, Ivan?’ Mike’s voice is hard.
Ivan turns to face the windscreen and the road ahead. He doesn’t answer.
‘Who’s Bill?’ Freya asks.
‘Yes, Dad. Who is he?’ Ivan echoes.
‘Just a friend. Someone I know I can rely on.’
‘How do you know?’ Ivan asks.
‘I just know. Look, this isn’t something I’m prepared to talk about.’
The three of them and the baby travel silently for half an hour.
Freya rubs the handle of Jasmine’s car seat. Her stomach feels hollow. The void grows, stretching throughout her body, pressing against her lungs making it hard to breathe. ‘Do you think I’m mad?’
‘Insane?’ Mike says. ‘No, you’re not ill. You’re strange but who wouldn’t be after all you’ve been through. You’re a survivor, Freya.’
She stares at her brother’s ash blonde hair. He watches the road steadfastly. She is sure he can feel her watch him, but he does not respond.
‘I searched the flat when I found him like that. There was no one else there.’ She is unsure of whether she is speaking to herself, her father or brother. Words spill out of her. ‘I looked everywhere. The house was locked. What could have done that to him if not me?’
‘I don’t know, Freya, but if you say you didn’t kill him, I believe you. We just need to get you away from there. Things will work out. You’ll see. You have your family to take care of you and your daughter to love you. Things will get better, I promise.’
‘Dad.’ Ivan’s voice trembles as if from the weight of his thoughts or fear of his father’s reaction. ‘What about the police?’
‘We didn’t leave anything there. There was no murder. Rob, Freya and Jasmine left town. No one knows where they went.’
‘What did you do with the body, Dad?’ Ivan asks.
‘There is no body. Leave it, son.’
‘I can’t, Dad. How can you be so calm about this? You… you… I don’t get it. What are you not telling us?’
‘Drop the subject.’ Mike growls.
‘Dad?’
‘Ivan!’ Mike roars. ‘Shut the fuck up!’
Jasmine wakes and starts to cry. Freya places her hand across the baby’s stomach and sings softly to her. Her mother’s voice and the movement of the car soothe Jasmine back to sleep.
‘I’m sorry, Freya, I didn’t mean to wake her.’
‘It’s okay, Dad, she’s asleep again.’
‘Your mum’s looking forward to seeing you both. We’ve all missed you and that beautiful little girl.’
‘Thanks, Dad. We’ve missed you too. All of you.’ Freya studies the back of her brother’s head. He stays perfectly still, eyes forward, as if meditating. She wonders what he is thinking. Is he working through all the questions their father refuses to answer or has he escaped to his sacred space?
She remembers her own sacred space, modelled on her brother’s tree of ribbons. She remembers the snakeskin, the shell, skeleton and athame. She remembers leaving then returning to a body she created with magic. She remembers everything so clearly. So why doesn’t she remember killing Rob?
Chapter 26
Satori lifts his bag onto his shoulder. ‘See you Monday,’ he calls through the bedroom door.
Star stirs in bed. ‘Oh, yeah, okay. Have a good weekend.’
He considers kissing her. Her lips are soft and supple just above the edge of the duvet. The black cotton covers her body, making it look as though she has been beheaded. Her head left on his pillow as a warning, but a warning about what? Their life has been one battle after another. He had hoped when they came back from Binah things would be different, she would be different, but she hasn’t changed. She never will. Still he loves her, but now he wonders whether this alone is enough.
Star is selfish. She goes through life unaware of everyone other than herself. She manipulates me. Her softness and beauty make me love her. I want to protect her from the world, but I cannot protect her from herself. Perhaps it is time to start again. At least one of us might be insulated from her wilful self-destruction. Four years – I’ve spent four years of penance making up for the fact that I made a terrible mistake. I couldn’t see it then. I couldn’t see that she and I do not belong together. I could be happy. I could have a life worth living, but not here and not with Star.
He sighs and blows her a kiss across the room. Her cheeks twitch in what might be an attempt at a smile. Where did it all go wrong? I’ve done everything for her, but I couldn’t make her happy. Perhaps part of Binah returned with her, a shadow inside her that grew and corrupted her over the years. Or perhaps this is simply who she is and I was too busy saving her to notice.
We both need this break and it will be good to see Mother again.
He turns away and leaves the cottage, locking the door behind him.
‘Steve!’ Marian kisses both his cheeks and ushers him into the house. ‘I made up your bed for you. Your room will always be yours. Dinner will be ready in half an hour. Do you want a drink, a shower or to settle in before I serve?’
‘Hi, Mum.’ He embraces her. ‘Good to see you. Can I help with anything?’
‘No, no. Just relax. Wine, whisky or coffee?’
Satori nods. ‘Thanks. Whatever you’re having will be great. I’ll just pop my bag upstairs, shall I?’
‘Yes, please do. There’s a pot of coffee already made. Shall I bring a cup up or do you want it when you get back down?’ She studies his face, perhaps searching for cracks in his armour.
He protects her from his tears, holding them back with a smile. ‘I’ll grab it in a minute. Thanks, Mum. It’s great to be here.’
‘Yes. I’ve made loads of plans for us for the weekend, but I can cancel them all if you want. We’ll talk about what you want to do this weekend after dinner, shall we?’
Satori kisses his mother’s cheek. ‘Sure. See you in a minute.’
‘There’s no hurry, Love.’
Satori smiles and carries his bag to his old room. His possessions drag on his arm as he puts one foot before the other and climbs the stairs. His door groans softly as he opens it, protesting his long absence. Little has changed. Still the same bare floorboards and the same duvet on his single bed. The bookshelves are now filled with his mother’s overspill of novels and there is a dark red armchair beside the window, but the rest remains the same. He opens his old wardrobe. Empty hangers wait to be filled. He closes the door again and drops his bag onto the bed.
He sits beside the bag, bouncing gently on the bed, remembering times spent in this room, studying, practising magic, making love. Memories flow through his mind, not swamping him with their weight, simply visiting, saying hello and making way for the next one. He sits with his hands on his lap and closes his eyes, letting each memory come and go in their polite and orderly fashion. This was where he lived. He may have been flawed, he may have been selfish, but he truly lived.
He sighs and opens his eyes. Star. He should leave her, probably. Start again. Put it all behind him and be free. Why is it so hard to leave? What is this stranglehold she has on me? Do I still feel responsible for her? She’s a grownup, a survivor. She doesn’t need me. She never has. I needed her once, but now? I should leave. This weekend I’ll find out whether I miss her. Maybe I won’t?
He stands up and unzips his bag. His clothes are folded neatly inside. He places them on the bed, smoothes out tiny creases and hangs them in his wardrobe. Removing the clothes, he uncovers a toiletry bag, two books, three pens, a journal and his personal MP3 player. He pushes the toiletry bag under his bed and places the books, pens and journal b
eside the headboard on the floor. He unravels the wires of his MP3 player and places it on top of the bookcase.
He checks his bag to ensure he hasn’t forgotten anything, zips it up and pushes it under his bed. He sits with a pen in his hand and his journal on his lap. He writes one word – Star, followed by a question mark. He turns to the next blank page and scribbles a strange figure, like and elaborate figure 8 drawn diagonally. He taps his pen on his bottom lip then closes the journal and replaces them beside the headboard. He sits silently for a moment then returns downstairs to his waiting mother.
Chapter 27
Jasmine’s frantic crying jolts Freya from her dreams. She opens her eyes and looks around. For a moment she cannot understand where she is. Then she remembers. She is home.
Freya pushes back the blankets and swings her legs out of bed. She rubs her head and presses her eyelids with her fingertips. ‘It’s okay. Mummy’s coming.’ She straightens her arms and pushes herself off the bed. Eyes half closed, she pads across the bedroom floor to the cot. ‘Okay, okay.’
Jasmine’s face is beetroot red. Freya picks her up and rocks her, but the baby refuses to calm down. ‘Shhhh.’ Freya hums a melody as Jasmine tugs her pyjama top. ‘Okay, I get it.’ Freya carries the anxious and hungry baby back to her bed.
Snuggled with her daughter, t-shirt pulled up to her neck, Freya dozes to the rhythmic suckling until both mother and daughter are asleep once more and the house is silent.
‘Good morning, Freya.’ Her mother’s wide smile welcomes her into the kitchen. ‘Did you sleep well? How’s that beautiful little granddaughter of mine? Yes, you are beautiful. Yes you are. May I?’ Lorraine holds her arms open wide in the international symbol of let me have a cuddle and a sniff of those gorgeous head pheromones, please.
Freya returns the smile. Teardrops form in the corner of her eyes as she struggles to remember the last time she was the subject of maternal affection. ‘Of course.’ She passes Jasmine across the narrow space between her and her mother which had once seemed an unbreachable gulf.
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