I’ll tell you no lies

by Norman Wills

  Let’s listen in, Lucy. We weren’t doing anything else, and John can’t call while your dad’s on the phone so you won’t miss his call.

  Lucy listened.

  “Yes this is David Kirkpatrick speaking”

  “Good morning, Mr. Kirkpatrick. I hope you don’t mind me calling you at home at the weekend but I didn’t feel it appropriate to call you at work. My name is Paul Stevens and I work for Gemini Recruiting Consultants”

  “Go on, I’m listening.” He’d heard this sort of opening line many times before.

  “One of my current clients, in the pharmaceutical business, is looking to recruit someone to oversee several sites. They suggested I should approach yourself on their behalf, you’ve got a good name within the industry and my clients have put together what I believe is an exceptional package for the position. They are keen to attract the right man, someone who they see as a rising star. They want someone who’s got a good track record within the industry and who they see as having the right skill set. Would you be interested in talking face to face so I can give you more details?”

  “Of course, can you tell me who the client is?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t at this stage, you must understand they would rather it didn’t become common knowledge within the industry. But I can tell you that they have big expansion plans and are looking at Scotland as a good development area for future expansion. The position they are looking to fill will eventually take over the Scotland sites when they’re up and in production. Three sites in total with a management team on each site. The person recruited would have overall control of the Scottish leg of the company. The successful person would have to spend twelve to eighteen months based at the company’s headquarters to become familiar with their procedures and have an input into the build phase of the project. Are you still interested?”

  “Of course I’m interested, that’s an impressive sales pitch, when can we meet?”

  Lucy couldn’t believe what she was hearing; her father was considering another move, no, two moves, first to wherever the company headquarters are then on to Scotland. Scotland for God’s sake, where in Scotland? It could be the Outer Hebrides for all she knew.

  She didn’t have many friends, two or three since she’d moved to Manchester but two or three more than she’d had when she moved. Her friends weren’t the vain types of fourteen-year-old, if you saw them in the street you would have to say they’d taken a severe beating with the “ugly” stick at birth. These were the girls who later in life when they tried a dating agency, which they inevitably would, would have to describe themselves as having a lovely personality and a good sense of humour. Everyone else would just describe them as plain ugly. They may be beautiful on the inside but that couldn’t be said for the outside. This didn’t bother Lucy, they were friends and that was all that mattered. Lucy knew friends were, for some people, hard to come by.

  Lucy felt numb, what a birthday present, she didn’t catch the end of the conversation, when she put the phone back to her ear the line was dead, the purpose of the call being only to sound her father out about the position and check if he was interested. She had actually been holding the phone for ten minutes looking into space but hadn’t realised how long it had been. What Lucy also didn’t realise was that lots of jobs at her dads position in the pharmaceutical industry were filled using head-hunters. David had had two similar, if not as exciting, conversations over the last twelve months with other recruiting consultants. He played the game, listened to them all. Nobody so far had come up with an offer that would make him want to move from his current position, and it would have to be a sensational offer for him to uproot himself and his family again and move to Scotland. He would play the game though, stroke his ego a little bit more, what harm could it do?

  Lucy convinced herself that another move was on the cards, she would be even further from John, when would he get the chance to come to Scotland. A new school and starting from scratch again, no friends. Lucy felt empty inside; she didn’t think she could handle that all over again.

  Sally-Anne was feeling all of Lucy’s emotions, all her hurt, all her insecurities. Sally-Anne hadn’t liked David before, now she hated him, this was the straw that really did break the camel’s back. Sally-Anne couldn’t let it happen. She began to plot without Lucy’s knowledge. She knew she would have to work alone at times in the future but she also knew this wouldn’t be a problem.

  Do you trust me, Lucy?

  You really don’t have much choice now.

  Six

  The day after Lucy’s birthday was what could only be described as a typical winter day in Manchester, grey clouds, rain, cold, pretty miserable and no sign of it easing up. Some would say the weather was like this all year round in Manchester and they wouldn’t be very far from the truth. Manchester in July without an umbrella was a risky business. Lucy thought the weather in Manchester was like her mood, mostly shitty, with the occasional sunny day, but these were few and far between.

  Sunday in Manchester in December for a fourteen-year-old girl with few friends can be a miserable time. She’d done all of her homework and was bored to distraction. It could be argued that some fourteen-year-olds feel like this all the time. Being fourteen isn’t easy, no longer a child but, in reality, far from being an adult, a lonely existence even when surrounded by the people you love most, which Lucy wasn’t. Usually at times like this Sally-Anne would have something to say, something to discuss with Lucy to cheer her up, keep her company, but today she was quiet, Sally-Anne hadn’t said anything since the phone call the previous day which had upset Lucy so much. Lucy was beginning to think that even her guardian angel had deserted her; this did nothing to lift her mood.

  Talk to me, Sally-Anne. Come on cheer me up; give me something to laugh about. Please.

  There was no reply, only silence.

  Lucy needn’t have worried, Sally-Anne was still there, she wasn’t talking to Lucy because she didn’t want Lucy’s mood to improve. She didn’t want her to have anything to laugh about. She was doing it so that Lucy would build up some more rage toward her father. It seemed to be working well, she was truly pissed off, she would soon look for someone to blame for this mood and David was top of the list of people who were pissing her off at the moment. Oh yes, she could feel the resentment building nicely.

  She was at the “why me” stage; the feelings that most teenagers get but are able to cope with, eventually, and move on. That was usually when something happens to distract them enough, all part of growing up. Lucy was channelling the anger nicely, soon she’d be at the “I hate him” stage and when she was there Sally-Anne had a plan.

  Sometime later, Lucy decided to listen to some music in her bedroom to pass an hour or two before the habitual Sunday roast her mum was currently slaving over in the kitchen. John had sent her the latest Kelly Clarkson CD, Breakaway, for her birthday so she slipped it into the CD player, lay back on her bed and pressed play on the remote control.

  Five minutes into the CD, when Lucy was chilled out, Sally-Anne took possession of Lucy’s body, Lucy felt nothing, she was completely unaware of what was happening, she’d effectively been temporarily switched off, Sally-Anne was borrowing Lucy’s body, a necessary part of her plan. Sally-Anne hit the pause button on the CD player, got up and left the bedroom.

  Anyone who knew Lucy would be hard pressed to see any difference between Lucy and Sally-Anne borrowing Lucy’s body. She still looked like Lucy but was maybe a little more measured with her words, but who could see that in a fourteen-year-old girl whose moods seemed to change as regularly as the direction of the wind in January.

  She thought she’d find David in his study. He spent a lot of time in there these days since the installation of the company computer allowed him to stay on-line and monitor how his precious little pill producing factory was performing, twenty four hours a day seven days a week if he wanted to. And David seemed to have an ever increasing obsession with being a twenty four-seven comp
any man as time went on.

  “Dad, can you do me a favour when you’ve got some time?” said Sally-Anne “I need some help with my psychology homework.”

  David stopped hitting the keyboard in his very own style, a style which could only have been described as somewhere between very amateurish and ham-fisted. What are they thinking of giving the crumblies computers? Sally-Anne thought. He looked up at his daughter surprised at the question.

  “Psychology homework, what happened to maths and English and things like that, proper subjects. Psychology, since when was that an O- level subject?”

  “Dad, we don’t do O-levels any more, we do GCSE’s, time has moved on since you went to school” Sally-Anne said, “We use pens and paper now, not little blackboards and chalk. We also do other things as well as maths and English you know. We’re introduced to things like psychology to give us a broader view of life, or at least that’s the line they feed us, we don’t all feel the need to be sat in front of a computer for the rest of our lives you know. Boring! That is unless you’re a total nerd with nothing better to do of course.”

  “Okay, point taken,” said David, “but I’m not sure I’ll be able to help you with that homework, like I said, they didn’t have fancy things like psychology in my days at school.”

  “That’s not a problem, I’m not asking you to psychoanalyse me, I only need to get a handwriting sample from both you and mum so that I can do some basic psychological profiling, see if I can tell anything about you just from your handwriting. I have to do it as well to see if there are any similarities between us.” Sally-Anne thought the probability of similarities between Lucy and her parents, especially David, were slim at best

  “Doesn’t sound too difficult, but what if you find out I’m some sort of crazed mad man who’s going to kill you in your sleep.” David said laughing.

  “I very much doubt that, dad.” Said Sally-Anne, “Anyway if anyone’s crazy in this house it’s me, don’t forget I’m the one who has to live with you and mum.”

  “Yeah you’re probably right there, can’t be easy for you living in a big house with everything you could ever need.” David said looking at his daughter “What do I need to write then?” Sally-Anne thought David was so out of touch with his daughter it was laughable…she wasn’t laughing though.

  “So that all three of us write the same thing I’ve had to come up with two short passages. The teacher suggested we write a note from someone feeling quite depressed and then an up-lifting reply. That way we can see if people write differently when writing in two different mood types.”

  “It all sounds very technical,” replied David, “you must be right though, things have certainly moved on since I was your age. I just need to finish off here then I’ll be right on to it, I shouldn’t be more than five minutes. Leave the two passages with me and I’ll bring the chalk and blackboards in to you when I’ve finished it.”

  Sally-Anne turned to leave, at the door she turned back and said.

  “Funny dad, very funny, by the way each passage on a separate piece of paper and sign your name underneath both passages, apparently the signature tells you most about the personality. I’ll be in my bedroom when you’ve finished it.”

  “No problem, sweetheart.”

  That had been the most they’d spoken in a long time, David thought maybe Lucy was finally improving; he was fed up of tip toeing around his daughter so as not to hurt her feelings. When was her ‘delicate’ stage ever going to stop? He thought.

  Fifteen minutes later David brought the homework to Lucy, she asked him to put it on her desk and thanked him, she knew that within ten minutes he would have forgotten all about it, after all, it had nothing to do with making drugs.

  When he was gone Sally-Anne jumped off the bed and hid the so-called “homework” in Lucy’s world atlas. Some people say the bible is the biggest ever best seller but the least read book in the world, they’re probably right about that, but Sally-Anne thought world atlases must come a close second, no one would come across the work until she needed it.

  Sally-Anne lay back down on the bed then hit the play button on the CD player and let Lucy have her body back at the same time. The effect was seamless, as far as Lucy was concerned nothing had happened, twenty-seven minutes of her life hadn’t just been lost and she was still enjoying the Kelly Clarkson CD. Only Sally-Anne knew differently.

  Sally-Anne had a plan. She was on a roll.

  I like the music, not bad. John has good taste. I wouldn’t mind getting to know Kelly Clarkson a bit better too. She’s very much my type.

  You’re back. Where have you been for the last two days? I don’t like being ignored.

  I know, sorry, but you were so upset by the phone call you overheard yesterday I thought you’d want some time by yourself, time to see if you could come to terms with it on your own.

  Not likely. Some guardian angel you are, go on holiday when I’m really pissed off. I’ve been lonely Sally-Anne, you just disappeared, and on my birthday too.

  Sorry Lucy, it was a misjudgement on my part. I can feel that you’re not happy with your dad.

  What should I do Sally-Anne, he isn’t going to listen to anything I say, he never has done up to now, why should he change? He’s either at work doing work or at home doing work.

  But it may all come to nothing. You might not even have to move, he might just turn it down, you never know.

  Oh yeah, you heard him, it didn’t sound like it was going to come to nothing. Bonnie Scotland here we come, yippee. That includes you as well… Doesn’t it?

  Wherever you go I’m there, Scotland or not, your big sister isn’t just going to jump ship. What would I be without you? I need you, without you I don’t exist, so we’ll get through this, together. You never know what’s around the corner.

  Lucy felt much better, maybe nothing would happen. Scotland was a nice place…For a holiday… It would have to be the only place wetter than Manchester. Her dad would see sense, they’d hardly ever see John in Scotland and her mum wouldn’t be happy with that and he couldn’t just make the decision without her mum’s agreement. Lucy felt happy that Sally-Anne was back, Sally-Anne was good for her, she was, after all, her guardian angel; she wouldn’t let it happen. Surely that’s what guardian angels are for…Isn’t it?

  Just trust me, Lucy. That’s why I’m here.

  You do still trust me don’t you, Lucy?

  .

  .

  .

  Of course you do.

  Seven

  Lucy’s mum Marie had decided that the only way for her to get back into any sort of work was to re-train, build some confidence before taking the leap. She was doing a computer course at the local college, and surprisingly enough she was having a lot of fun. She’d actually thought she may just continue doing courses during the day and the odd night school course to fill in her time, the list of possible courses she could enrol on seemed endless.

  She’d finally found something to do which she felt happy about; it gave her something to look forward to. Going back to work had suddenly lost its appeal, money had never been less of a problem and David was happy for her to ‘continue her education’, as he put it. He drew the line at more than one night school class a week though; he was a busy man and didn’t like having to be back home by seven o’clock to ‘baby-sit’ Lucy.

  Marie’s current evening class was interior design, each Wednesday. She’d been doing it for three months and loved it; she’d had all sorts of ideas to improve the décor of the house, which hadn’t been touched since they’d moved in over two years ago. She had finally decided that she was going to put her mark on the house and so had decided she should take some time to learn about different styles, colours and fabrics.

  She saw much less of David since the move and if the truth were to be told she didn’t mind. David was immersed in his work and she was finally enjoying herself for what seemed like the first time in many years, she felt liberated at fifty. If it weren�
��t for David she could see herself becoming very friendly with her tutor on the interior design course, a man at least ten years her junior and still in very good shape. The hints had been there from him that they should go for a drink or a meal after class. She felt flattered but hadn’t taken him up on the invitation.

  Who knows what the future may hold though? Maybe a little fling was what she was missing in her life, after all Lucy didn’t get her looks from David’s side of the family, and even at fifty she still looked good, yes nifty for fifty, she liked that.

  Little did she know that plans were being thought through which would change her life significantly, and had she known about the plans she probably would have smiled, kept quiet and hoped that nothing went wrong.

  Ironically, just as Marie was reaching the age when the menopause was about to kick in, Lucy's body had decided to embark upon the one true journey into womanhood, the journey that will always separate the two genders. No matter what any plastic surgeon can do to make a man look like a woman he will never be able to allow them to experience the pain some women go through each month in order to allow the human race to continue its existence.

  Lucy’s periods had started a couple of months before and she wasn’t dealing at all well with the physical pain. Some girls can fly through life without batting an eyelid during their period, it’s seen as just a minor inconvenience every month, whilst others feel like they must be taking on all of womanhood’s suffering alone. Lucy unfortunately fell into the latter category.