She huffed. ‘If that’s the case, it’s only one of many peculiarities in his family!’ Her voice softened as she spoke again. ‘His brother Daniel had problems, Kate. Depression … and drugs. He was only young, but obviously his issues were serious … I mean, to kill himself …’
‘Must have been,’ I agreed, wondering what it was that had been bad enough to push him to that point.
‘They used to lock him in his room.’
‘Seriously?’ I asked, shocked. ‘That doesn’t sound good.’
‘I think it was like a suicide-watch thing, so don’t think too badly of them. I did, but now that I’m a mother I understand it a little more. You’ll do crazy things to try and keep your kids safe.’
‘I’ll take your word for it, because it does sound a little extreme to me. I mean, surely there were other options?’
She hesitated. ‘His family was very private. I don’t think they would have turned to an outsider for help.’
‘It’s a pity they didn’t, I guess.’
‘Maybe,’ she agreed. ‘They were very influential, but they were seriously strange. There were always lots of rumours about them. Some said that it was thanks to the Edwards family that Three Kings had even made it into the twentieth century. That they were the main benefactors of the place. I think that’s definitely possible. I mean the place just didn’t make any sense.’
‘Oh?’
She laughed. ‘You’d have to go there to know what I mean, Kate. It sort of just existed but with very few actual businesses, and most people rented homes through a real estate agency. There was hardly ever any property for sale. It doesn’t make any sense that it would have been viable, by any stretch of the imagination. Some of the rumours were just plain crazy. Who knows, maybe they even started some of them, sometimes it’s the best way to hide the truth.’
‘In plain sight, you mean?’
‘Who knows? I mean, there were some which definitely had no foundation. At school, some of the kids said they were aliens and responsible for the red tide we experienced.’
‘Red tide?’
‘It was just the result of algal blooms, unpleasant freaky red water, like blood, but a natural phenomenon, nothing more. It only happened once in the time I lived there. Someone said they’d heard his mum chanting in a strange language as they passed their house, but that would have been impossible. Their house was like a fortress and it was miles away from where the rest of us lived. No, it was just the usual teenage garbage, kids feeding off each other. The Edwards family were really well respected on the one hand, but on the other hand people recognised that something wasn’t quite right about them and feared them. I did too.’
I had recognised the same about Nick already, the not quite definable difference. We feared what we didn’t understand. ‘Respect and fear go hand in hand,’ I said.
She thought for a moment, ‘Nick was a closed book in a lot of ways. I knew there wasn’t a lot of love lost between him and his parents, but he never really told me much about the issues Daniel was experiencing in the lead up to his death.’ She seemed to reflect. ‘Maybe he wasn’t at liberty to discuss it. Anyway, he never mentioned strange dreams.’
We ended the conversation and I reflected on the history of my own sleep issues. When I was a child I used to sleep-walk on occasion. Mum would find me sitting fully clothed on the toilet mumbling to myself, or eating pickled cucumbers from the fridge, something I still enjoyed, and gently urge me back to bed. I’d wake with the taste of vinegar in my mouth but would rarely remember any of it. Maybe it was a precursor, but the terror and panic my unconscious now embraced had not been part of it.
Sometimes when night terrors recurred night after night for a period of time I was filled with unease as I drifted off to sleep. But in the mornings as sunshine filled my room and the sheer drapes billowed in the breeze the feeling usually evaporated.
Occasionally the feeling of being haunted would linger. The sense that life was a little off-kilter, just not quite as it seemed, that maybe what I had always taken for granted was actually not quite so.
10
DEB AND NICK
After a time we reluctantly headed down the hill. I was the first to speak. ‘Whereabouts do you live, Nick?’
‘Three Kings, but not in the village, like you,’ he replied, moving through the foliage ahead of me. ‘A little further on, along the top of the bluff. There are quite a few houses out there.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s just residential,’ he added.
‘Maybe I’ll get out there one day.’ He said nothing.
After a while I prompted him. ‘What about siblings?’
‘Two brothers. One younger, one older.’
‘And they still live here?’
‘Yes. Daniel, the younger, is here most of the time. He’s musical, kind of a prodigy. He’s tutored at home. Brendan is here sometimes. He works with my father.’
‘Oh … and you all get along?’
He stopped suddenly and turned. ‘Surely you don’t want to hear about my family, Deb.’ His voice had grown cold.
I flushed, uncomfortable at his tone, but refused to be shut down. ‘Why not? You asked me about mine.’
He shook his head and marched off again. I struggled to keep up with him. ‘They’re up themselves.’
‘We’re not exactly the Brady bunch!’
He beat a path through the bush vigorously. We walked for a while in silence, but finally he relented, slowing down and letting me catch up. ‘My folks are difficult Deb, and I don’t like to talk about them.’ He shrugged. ‘They both come from privileged, extremely protective backgrounds and they’ve never known any differently. I guess neither have I, but the difference is that I want to live in the real world, discover it at least, and know that there is a difference.’ I considered his Harley Davidson and wondered whether he realised the potential sacrifices the real world might demand of him.
‘So they don’t understand the appeal?’
‘No. They don’t understand why I would want anything different. I need depth in my life. I want to know what rough feels like, even if it is so that I can appreciate the smooth.’ He stopped, realising I needed to rest. I leaned against a tree.
‘We’re all unique,’ I panted, thankful for the respite and noticing that he was also perspiring. His face was slightly flushed under the tan and tiny beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.
He snorted. ‘We’ve always revolved around them, marched to their drum, no questions permitted. It’s so ingrained in them. I think they’re genuinely taken aback that I want to do my own thing.’
‘Parents have set ideas about how they want their kids to turn out. At least they care enough to want something good for you, maybe they don’t want you to get hurt.’
His laugh was short and hollow this time, but he came to my side and leaned against the broad trunk next to me.
‘What my parents want has very little to do with me, believe me. It’s always about a bigger picture … or more accurately, their picture. That’s the way it’s always been.’ He thought for a while. ‘I was tutored until I was twelve, just like Brendan, cut off from the world. But my grandfather insisted they send me to a ‘normal school’ when I got to secondary level. It wasn’t an option for Daniel, wouldn’t have met his needs, but he threatened to change the conditions of the family trust unless they sent me. My folks gave in grudgingly, but they hate outside influences and my grandfather isn’t around anymore.’
‘They can’t keep you protected from life forever,’ I said, noticing the way his posture had changed. The tension in his muscular frame made him look a little menacing.
‘No, maybe not, but they would like to try. They’ve got my life all laid out.’
I peeled bark off a tree and wondered what it would be like to fall into a niche, rather than have to search for one. Would it be a luxury or an affliction I would have to bear? I had to admit I wouldn’t mind the opportunity to find out.
He stretched and exhaled, suddenly conscious of the stiffness across his shoulders and forcing himself to relax. His face lightened and then immediately darkened. ‘I want to fly, but they won’t hear of it.’
‘They won’t be able to stop you Nick. You’ll be eighteen soon.’
His sigh was deep. ‘They have ways and means. You would be surprised at the lengths they would go to.’ He snapped a twig, picked up another. ‘Unfortunately I’m used to a certain way of life and they know that. It’s given them power over me in the past. I’ve got to accept that I can’t have everything my way, that’s all.’ His eyes were green again, hypnotic spirals sinking into me, and his voice was slow and deep, the words carefully pronounced. ‘I want everything, Deb.’
My chest tightened. He was speaking about more than what related to his parents. I tore my eyes away from his. ‘Maybe that’s the first lesson for me,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t work that way!’
‘No, maybe not.’ I stared doggedly at the entangled, twisted forest, chaotic but beautiful.
‘You see. I knew this would happen. I’m going on and on about them and I didn’t want that.’ I turned to face him, noticing his frustration giving way to tenderness.
‘Are you okay, Deb?’
‘I was just thinking about my father. Your parents show too much interest. My father shows none. I don’t know which is worse. I’m sure he loves us, but it would be nice if he showed it once in a while.’
His hand found my shoulder, a reassuring squeeze, nothing romantic. ‘He’s crazy. You’re beautiful and sweet and very special and he’s an idiot for not telling you that!’
I smiled up at him.
‘I mean it,’ he said, looking at me earnestly. ‘Anyway, let’s forget them, all of them. For now at least. Surely we have something better to talk about than the failings of our parents!’ He began to move again and I followed.
‘Food …’ he said suddenly.
‘Food?’
‘Are you hungry?’
‘Actually, I’m completely famished!’ My stomach growled loudly, awakened and eager to make its presence known.
‘Good.’
We exited the trees near to the more populated area of the lake. Appetising aromas came to us from a rustic café where we ordered sandwiches and chocolate milkshakes, hungrily filling the void created by swimming and our earlier exertions. The sadness of family was forgotten for the moment.
Afterwards we headed back to the beach, unburdened and close for a short while. George was still there, but alone.
‘You’ve been gone a while,’ he said, suspicious as he noticed my bright eyes and flushed cheeks. Nick wandered off.
‘We grabbed some lunch after we swam at the lake. It’s beautiful up there.’ I felt awkward, like I was hiding something, although I wasn’t, not really.
George eyed me up and down. ‘Great, well I’m glad you had fun.’ He seemed resentful.
‘Where’s Michelle?’ I asked.
‘She had to go, something she had to get to.’ He averted his gaze and I felt a wave of pity for him.
‘Anyway, I was just about to leave,’ he said. He threw the last of his things into a beach bag.
‘Okay, me too.’ We waved to Nick who seemed absorbed in conversation with someone down on the beach and only raised a hand absentmindedly in return. After a moment he wandered further away with his companion.
‘That’s his older brother,’ George volunteered.
‘Oh?’ I answered. It was hard to make out details, but his brother was as broad and tall as him.
They continued to walk away from us, the world around them forgotten, and I felt a sinking sensation. Our kiss was definitely a bigger deal to me than to him.
George knew me well. In the face of my self-doubt he seemed to release some of his own. He flung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me to him roughly so that we did a sort of lop-sided walk up the beach.
‘You like him a lot, don’t you?’
‘I do,’ I conceded, realising that if I wasn’t going to let on to George about how I felt, that there really wasn’t anyone else I could tell. ‘He’s special, so strong and confident, but sort of vulnerable too …’
‘I guess his looks have nothing to do with it?’ he laughed.
‘Course not,’ I lied with a smirk.
‘Vulnerable, how?’
‘He’s like a little boy when he talks about his family. Brave, but still searching for their acceptance.’
‘Yeah – it’s weird seeing him the way we do, because I think his reality is mostly lived in a very different world. That’s what I’ve heard anyway. We only see him in this setting. The life he has here, down on the beach, maybe that’s his escape for a time from the continual expectations at home. He can fantasize when he’s away from there, pretend, but at the end of the day he goes back.’
He looked across to where Nick now stood with his brother in the distance.
‘Why do you think he didn’t introduce us to his brother?’ he asked.
I shrugged. ‘He likes to keep family stuff separate, because he’s unhappy at home. He doesn’t want that to ruin … taint how he feels here with us.’
‘Or maybe,’ he added tantalisingly, ‘he doesn’t want you to freak out when you see him and his brother together!’
‘What does that mean?’
‘There’s a striking genetic similarity. Definitely no mistaking they’re brothers. It’s the eyes. I’m sure you noticed his.’
‘Well, yes, of course.’ They were rather startling.
‘They’re exactly the same,’ he said. ‘Unlikely as that may seem.’ It did seem unlikely, although if they were just plain blue or brown, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
‘Well, they are related. Like you said, it just comes down to genetics.’
‘You should watch yourself with him, you could get hurt.’ Worry crossed his forehead as he verbalised my own fears. He screwed up his mouth indecisively. Short of locking me in my bedroom, I was growing up and there was nothing he could do about it.
‘Maybe,’ I allowed.
‘What does all this mean if you start seeing him?’
‘You’re thinking too far ahead, George. You don’t have to introduce your family before you’ve even had a date!’ I tried to sound light-hearted, noncommittal, but he was right. Maybe I was jumping in too fast, forgetting that it was gravity that kept my feet on the ground.
‘Love is meant to be spontaneous, led by your heart, not your head!’ Of course, that’s probably also why there were so many hurt people in the world. I kicked the sand as I walked.
‘… and your eyes,’ he returned curtly.
‘Yes, well I’m not going to say that I wasn’t struck by his hot body when I first saw him …’
‘A bit shallow don’t you think? Just like all the others out there struck by the very same thing.’ He sounded resentful. ‘The rest of us are somewhat dismal in comparison!’
‘Give it a rest George.’ I nudged him in the ribs. ‘You’re fishing for compliments!’
‘I’m not joking.’ And he wasn’t. ‘Those three have a ‘following’ in this place. Three brothers all so attractive to the opposite sex, like nectar to bees! It’s unnatural.’ He was truly jealous. ‘I’m sure it’ll get them into trouble,’ he added, sulkily.
I pushed him away, a little irritated. ‘Probably,’ I said.
He noticed my despondency. ‘Sorry.’
‘You sure know how to dampen a girl’s spirits, George!’
‘I’m just worried that he’s the wrong guy for you. It’s too easy for him, that’s all.’
I rolled my eyes. ‘Not everything is easy for him.’
‘But women are.’
‘... and of course nothing is coloured for you today by your failure with Michelle,’ I said, my voice taking on a bitchy tone I immediately regretted.
‘Not that you’ve asked.’ He spoke quietly.
‘Sorry George. Really, I am.�
� We’d looked out for each other since our folks had divorced, providing comfort when we needed it. He was still looking out for me.
‘I love you. I know you want the best for me.’ I gave him a tight hug and he didn’t resist me. ‘And maybe you’re right.’
11
KATE
A scorching February arrived. Hot dry winds blew relentless desert heat across the cracked ground and trees wilted in the parched parks.
‘Only three days to go, Kit-Kat,’ Mum said. Her sewing machine buzzed as she fed strips of floral material under its vigorous feet. Summer holidays were over. I looked down at my hands. The nails were unattractive, like well-chewed mango pips. I hid them in a fist. I was excited, but nervous too. Still, I had to stop biting my nails. Adults didn’t bite their nails, did they?
‘Are you counting down, Mum? Can’t wait to get rid of me?’ I passed her a piece of material from the pile of similarly-patterned fabric at her elbow.
‘Course not, but it’s so exciting. You are so lucky. I would have given my eye-teeth to do what you’re doing.’ Her eyes sparkled.
‘What, to tread in the footsteps of Luca Salvatore?’ My tone was a little on the sarcastic side.
‘Don’t be cheeky, Kit!’ Mum had every one of his many CDs in a neat stack next to her sewing machine and reminded now, she reached over and popped one into her CD player. Soon his satin voice eased itself over the top of too many violins and a light percussion. Luca Salvatore had attended the Conservatoire for a year or two before becoming one of the most commercially successful opera singers ever. Mums everywhere drooled over his bronzed body and slick image as he wandered golden beaches, singing love songs in his rich, and very smooth, tenor. Mum sewed and hummed, a small dreamy smile on her face. After a while she turned it up and I drifted away.
My father’s spin on Uni was rather less optimistic.
‘They’ll fill your head with nonsense, Kate. Never had to face the reality of life outside their artificial academic environment.’ He said it with a gruff voice, but I knew a little pride hid beneath.
Awakening: Book 1 The Last Anakim Trilogy Page 9