The Penn Friends Series Books 5-8: Penn Friends Boxset

by T H Paul

  In the pub, which had been a solemn and much quieter place––not that Penny had been in, as she’d called in sick the only night she was down to work––a few discussed Clive, but no one knew anything that hadn’t already been reported.

  This time, as Penny walked into the cafe ten minutes before the agreed time, Thomas was already there waiting for her. The place was much quieter than the last time, but there were still others around, scattered about across five tables. Penny joined her father in the corner.

  “It’s good to see you again Penny,” he said warmly. He took in her demeanour, noticing the beads of sweat on her forehead––it was warm, but not that warm. He saw the shakes were gone––not totally, but they were different now. Withdrawal symptoms, instead of dependency. His daughter was coming off her drugs habit.

  Penny took the seat opposite him, removed her jacket, and only having nodded her head in response to his greeting. Thomas reached into his pocket, and taking out whatever was now inside his fist, he held his arm outstretched in front of him.

  “Take this,” he said, his fist closed, as he slid across a glass of water to Penny, something he must already have arranged. He had a glass sitting there for himself as well.

  “What is it?” Penny still couldn’t see what was in his hand, but she placed her own hand flat underneath his, and he let the methadone tablet drop into her damp hand.

  “It’ll help,” he said. Penny was instantly cautious about taking a tablet from someone she didn’t wholly trust. She wasn’t going to repeat that again.

  “What is it?” Penny repeated, more urgently now.

  “It’ll make withdrawal easier, Penny. Trust me. You are through the worst, and this will do the rest.”

  She looked him in the face, trying to read him as best she could, trying to spot any sign that he was tricking her, or cajoling her into something she would later regret. She only saw love, if anything. Penny raised her hand to her mouth, letting the tablet drop into her mouth, before washing it down with the water.

  “Thank you,” she said, breaking eye contact with her father, shame flooding her body where defiance had previously been, only now dwelling on the fact that her father knew she was on drugs. Must have known about the heroin if he’d known what tablet would help. “How did you know?”

  “You wrote about it on the forums, Penny. You told someone who had already admitted to being hooked on heroin that you were in the same boat. I found it after I discovered who you were. It wasn’t hard to piece everything together, really.”

  It made perfect sense. Penny recalled the conversation. She’d assumed she was anonymous, which she had been at the time. Like anything, once identity was clear, these things could easily be dug up after the event. She didn’t mind, however. It made for one less awkward conversation the pair of them were inevitably going to have.

  The waitress came to the table, and both ordered a hot drink.

  “So how has it been so far.”

  “So far?”

  “Since you stopped taking heroin. How is withdrawal treating you? It can be hard for the collective.”

  Of course, it would be harder for the collective. Everything was made harder because of the parasite living inside, Penny was only too aware of that now.

  “Let’s just say I’m so happy to have made it to day four. These last three have been, quite literally, a living hell.”

  “You’ve done well. You are through the worst.”

  “Yeah?” She wasn’t going to get complacent, though was feeling better so far that morning than she had since coming off the drugs.

  “Absolutely. Days one to three is the hardest. Many people give up and run back to the drugs. Even though you’ve got this far, it’s important you don’t have an option, a way out. You need to get rid of anything you have left.”

  “Already taken care of,” Penny said, a little proud that she was ahead of her father in his suggestion.

  “Good girl,” he replied, Penny suddenly a young child again, being praised by her dad. It felt both thrilling and twisted, all at the same time. It was all that Penny had been longing for, but many years too late.

  “Penny,” he said, his tone changing again, his focus back to a more serious note, “you are stronger than most, I know that already. What you have, most cannot cope with. You are showing that by how you are handling withdrawal. I believe you are able to break free of the cough in the same way you are breaking free of heroin.”

  There was a vast difference between a drug that got sniffed and a parasite that occupied every part of its host.

  “Break free?”

  “Yes, to live a normal life, Penny.”

  “Normal? I do live a normal life.”

  “No, Penny, you don’t. You haven’t since you turned thirteen, since what happened with Abbey. Nothing has been normal about you since then.”

  That was true, though it all felt normal for Penny. This was who she was. She was an Enchanti. This is what they did. At least she didn’t use her gift every day as most did, as most were told they had to do. She was strong enough to not be as controlled by it as others so apparently were themselves.

  “This is who I am, though, who we both are,” she said, though knew it wasn’t strictly accurate for Thomas. He was just a carrier, he’d never actually made anyone do anything himself. He didn’t know what it was like. Penny also remembered the comments from Justin that he’d made about her father. Thomas wanted all Enchanti to live a free life, to put aside the aspect of themselves that made them different, and to reenter normal, human existence, free of the parasite. He believed in a purer race, a harmonised humanity where everyone was once again equal. He was a fanatic and idealist. Few shared his beliefs. Many mocked such a stance as beneath them. Enchanti had powers humanity could only envy, though the secrecy the parasite craved always made them hide this gift from others.

  “It’s not, Penny. Not really. What happened to Barbara; it shouldn’t have happened,” he said, his voice edged with a thousand emotions, and he looked away from the table at that moment. Penny wondered if there were tears in his eyes. It was the first reference either of them had made about Penny’s mother. Penny had not asked about Thomas’s mother––her grandmother––as it was a forbidden topic. Penny realised Thomas didn’t know what had happened to Barbara. He’d left––Penny would always remember the argument he’d had with her mother before walking out for good––because he couldn’t be around to see it happen. Penny had longed, at the time, to know what it meant. Now she knew. He couldn’t be around to see Penny turn on her, as all Enchanti did. He loved her. It was only too apparent now.

  “I thought we weren’t meant to talk about parents.”

  “I am your parent!” he shot back a little too quickly, though soon smiled at that recollection. He’d not been her parent for a long time. Too long, in fact. “And you are correct, of course. It’s in the rules. If you want to report me, go ahead,” he said openly, his hands expressive.

  “Report you?” Who to, Penny thought, though managed not to voice it. Maybe she should not know that particular piece of information. He smiled. If he knew, he apparently wasn’t about to let on.

  “But it’s just you and me here now, Penny. No one is listening. If you wanted to talk to me about what happened with, you know, I’m here to help.”

  “Talk about,” but she couldn’t say her mother’s name at that moment, either. Thomas nodded. They both understood each other completely. Penny had never talked to anybody about what had happened. It had been eating her alive ever since.

  Over the next five minutes, Penny raced through the highlights of what had happened. How it had felt, the voice she had heard. She finished with explaining that was where the new Jeep had come from. It was a little over a year and a half ago now. Thomas had seen the car on the drive the other week when he’d been watching Clive. It indeed explained where it had come from. It was rather impressive. Most stories––and while it was forbidden to talk about what an En
chanti had done to their parent, Thomas had many a conversation similar to the one he’d just had with his daughter––were not as expressive as what Penny had managed. Most resulted in a body and a funeral. A parent who’d fallen down the stairs, or dropped off a ladder, tripped in the kitchen or slipped onto the open dishwasher. All resulting in death, all the work of an Enchanti turning on their power giver. All sudden and unexpected losses to the ignorant friends and family of those left behind. All, that is, other than the Enchanti, and especially the child. They were all only too aware of what had really happened.

  “You see what I mean, though,” Thomas had said, once Penny had finished going over her account. “These things shouldn’t happen. It’s not natural.”

  “But it’s normal collective behaviour.”

  “The cough is not a part of us. It’s a parasite. A foreign invader. Without it inside, all these people would be alive today. Mum would still be here.” It was the first time he’d called her mum in front of Penny since they’d reconnected. Penny could see that there was a man torn because of what had happened to his life, to his wife and all that he’d once cherished. He was a man hurting every bit as much as Penny was herself. Both took a little while to calm themselves, using the arrival of another cup of tea to give them the time they required.

  “So,” Thomas said next, his tone again indicative of a new chain of thought, “what are your plans for the future, for the next few years and for life?” It was as broad and extensive as the previous topic had been narrow and personal. The simple answer was that she was not thinking beyond the next month––her fate in the balance. She couldn’t tell him that.

  “I don’t know,” she settled for.

  “That doesn’t sound like someone who is free and has the world at her feet now, does it.”

  “Just trying to get through the day, that’s all,” which was the absolute truth. Thomas could understand that too, at the moment. She needed to get free of the drugs. Then she needed to be free of the parasite.

  “You must have thought about your future though?”

  “Honestly, not much. Things tend to happen to me that makes me keep my focus on the moment. I have no idea about the future.”

  “You’ve finished college now. What about applying for university? You must have thought about that, surely?”

  There had been a little preparation in the closing months of college, but Penny had backed off. She wasn’t sure if she could afford it, seeing as she would have to move away, and her only income––and drug supply––was very much tied to her remaining at home.

  “Look, dad, it’s a conversation for another day. Believe me, it’s not a priority right now.”

  “Not a priority? It’s July. Courses start in, what, two months time. When is it going to become a priority if it isn’t already?”

  “Look, stop it. I’ve said enough already. Anyway, I can’t afford to go anywhere.”

  “Is it just the money, Penny? I can help you there. I can think of something. We’ll make it happen.”

  “It’s not just the money, no,” she said, adding in her head; I might not be alive come the start of university unless I can find a way to shut this thing up.

  Thomas gave Penny a little time to compose herself. Now wasn’t the time for that topic, apparently.

  “Look, since finding out what you’ve learned about yourself these last few months, it must have been hard accepting your days of having a family are over.”

  “My days of starting a family are over? I’m eighteen, not eighty.” She sounded exasperated.

  “I mean with finding out who you really are. You can’t now have children.” That wasn’t exactly true. The knowledge had done nothing to affect her fertility, but she knew what he meant. Most Enchanti decided against having children because of the lottery of producing the same sex offspring.

  “I’ve not thought about that, dad, to be honest.”

  “Not thinking about it? What’s there to think about? If you were to have a daughter, she would kill you.” He had spoken louder than he had intended, a few heads turning at that last remark, but soon most carried on as before. “I can’t watch it all happen again, Penny. Not with you. Not again.”

  “Watch it all? You walked out. You ditched my mother almost as soon as I was born. Left me to fend for myself. You might have only walked out for good when I was thirteen, but you’d been emotionally absent for at least a decade before that! So don’t you dare lecture me about what I can or cannot do. You gave up that right the moment you put your own concerns ahead of your family’s.”

  “You are my family! You’re all I’ve got. I’m all you will ever have as well.”

  “Really? And what if I did want to start a family of my own?” she said, mainly to cause a reaction, which she got.

  “After all you know, you would still do that? For what cause? So that this parasite gets to feed on another generation, gets to live a little longer? Do you not see we can rid this planet of it in one generation if we all just let it be. If the collective refused to have children, refused to pass on the genes. Refused to be prisoners anymore. We could be free. The whole world could be.”

  “Free? You speak a lot about freedom. I am free.”

  “Bollocks!” he said. He’d never used coarse language in front of his daughter before, and it shocked Penny for a moment. He wasn’t treating her like a little girl anymore. “You’re more a prisoner than you realise. Until you live a life without dependency, you’ll never be free.”

  “I’m four days free of heroin, dad. I’m no longer dependent. I’ll beat this, you'll see that I can.”

  “I’m not talking about the damn heroin. I’m talking about the cough. You’re dependent as long as you use your power on others. As long as you have people around you who protect you.”

  “Protect me?” she said, not immediately understanding what he meant, but Millie’s name soon populated her mind. Millie was protecting Penny, she knew that now. Millie could heal Penny if ever it was needed.

  “I think you know what I mean,” Thomas said, reading the understanding now etched across his daughter’s face. “You have to give them all up.”

  “Give them up? Or what? What can you do about it?” It was a threat. She knew he would never find out about Millie unless Penny were to say something. Thomas stood up at that moment, the conversation apparently coming to an abrupt end.

  “I found out about Clive Banks, and his little empire didn’t I. I can find out the rest.” Penny sat upright in her chair. How did Thomas know about Clive?

  “Who told you about Clive?”

  “Nobody. I knew you were bound to someone, could tell because of the heroin. I followed him to your house one day. I sorted it.”

  “You sorted,” she started to say, Thomas already heading for the door, as realisation sank in. “It was you! You did that to him?” she called across the room, but Thomas was already out through the door and walking down the street.

  5

  I didn’t know what to do with that information, though didn’t say anything to anyone for the immediate time being. Clive Banks was a nasty piece of work. I should have been happy that someone got to him.

  I just didn’t expect that person to have been my father. Who was this man? I didn’t know.

  I had, however, heard firsthand his fanatical views. Elements sounded solid, for sure. He was urging for greater independence. I was, at that stage, coming off of heroin. If anyone knew the meaning of being non-dependent, it was me.

  Yet, he was a cold-blooded killer. All the reports I’d read into the murder of Banks stated it was a vicious and violent assault. It was later confirmed that Banks had been stabbed over thirty times. The first few blows had almost certainly killed him. This wasn’t a freak incident we were talking about. It was an assassination, a brutal revenge killing. And my father was the man behind it all.

  I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, life seemed to lack any clarity. It was absent from all meaning, all realit
y. It was as if it were all some computer game, an online simulation where anything could happen, and where consequences didn’t really matter.

  For those final days as the heroin cleared my system for good, I was lashing out. Anyone foolish enough to stand in the way of Penny Black and her powers was going to be in for a bollocking!

  Penny was in the park, where a boy who must have been about eleven or twelve, was chasing after an already scared little dog. His mother seemed oblivious to the terror her son was causing, lost in her phone. She couldn’t have been much older than Penny now was. Yet another teen mum with no ability to control a rebellious son. As the boy tried to kick the dog––it was clear it was actually their own dog, Penny spotting a lead that the phone-obsessed mother had resting on her lap––Penny had seen enough.

  Make that horrible boy smell like sausages to every dog in this city she thought, her stomach poised and ready for hours already. Instantly, the previously terrorised pup seemed to gain new confidence. It turned on the boy, and yapping at his ankles started chasing him. The boy screamed. He called for his mother––the poor excuse for a mother was still on her telephone, oblivious, her son might as well have been on fire––as he ran to climb the slide. Soon, however, other dogs were honing in on the sausage with legs. Penny couldn’t help smiling to herself as she left the area, five large dogs already joining the puppy at the foot of the slide, one trying to climb up the stairs at the back.

  “Serves you right, you little brat!” Penny snapped at the boy as she passed the slide, the kid just open-mouthed at her as she walked away from him.

  Next, it was queue jumpers at the bank. Make them able to be glued to the spot Penny thought, and the two men who had been pushing through were suddenly not able to make it to the counter, despite now being called. An old lady walked past one of them––presumably one of the women whom the man had just pushed past––and she hit him with her handbag. Penny laughed again. She undid what she’d done only after leaving the building. By which time the men had been waiting far longer than had they waited their turn like everyone else.