Different

by Tony Butler

  Different

  By: Tony Butler

  ISBN: 978-1-877546-57-0

  All rights reserved

  Copyright © Apl 2011 Tony Butler

  Cover Art Copyright © Apl 2011, Brightling Spur

  Bluewood Publishing Ltd

  Christchurch, 8441, New Zealand

  www.bluewoodpublishing.com

  Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Bluewood Publishing Ltd.

  Special Note: This book contains UK Spellings.

  Dedication

  I could not have written this novel without the support of my long suffering wife, Sue. I have suspended her in mid-air, stuck her in a box and perforated her with swords, and then to put up with a man whose mind was not focused upon her but, lost in a world of fiction.

  Chapter One

  Wales 2012

  Seventeen-year-old Jay Williams jogged easily down the familiar narrow trail that led towards the old slate quarry. Suddenly, one of her trainers caught on something, causing her to trip and fall. She barely had time to register the pain in her hands and knees when she hit the ground before her body started to slide feet first down the steep slope that ended with a sheer drop to the floor of the quarry. Desperately, she clawed at the clumps of grass on either side of her, but they were shallow rooted and came away in her hands. With the lip of the slope only feet away from her, Jay cried out in fear as her legs went over the edge.

  Her right hand shot out, a reflex born of desperation. And it wasn’t until her fingers wrapped around it that she saw the rusted iron post projecting from the slate-rock. Then her backside plunged into space and Jay thought that her arm would be wrenched out of its socket as it took the full weight of her body. She was hanging by her right hand about forty-feet above the quarry floor.

  “Help!” she shouted, but there was rarely anyone else around at this time of the morning to hear her.

  Jay’s only hope was to find a crevice or outcrop, anything at all that would help to take her weight off her arm. She couldn’t hold on much longer.

  Her hand was losing its grip on the post and Jay opened her mouth to scream, but she felt her hand tighten its grip. A tingling sensation coursed through her arm, which no longer felt as though it was about to be torn off. Amazingly, and of its own accord, her right armed flexed then started to bend, hauling her up until she was high enough to grip the post with her other hand. Using both arms, it required very little effort to pull herself back up onto the slope and safety. It must have been some kind of adrenaline rush, she thought, and stared at the post in surprise. There were finger-sized indentations in the iron where her hand had been, and when she wrapped her hand around the post again, her fingers fitted them perfectly.

  Feeling a little spooked, Jay carefully climbed back up to the trail and looked at her watch. More than ten minutes had passed since she had slipped off the path and she was going to be late meeting her friends in Fairy-Glenn.

  Jay started to jog again, replaying in her mind the weird things that had happened to her, the sudden strength in her arms and the marks in the post; it just didn’t make any sense. When she arrived at Fairy Glen she looked at her watch again and thought that it must have stopped, but the second hand still bounced its way around the face. It was not possible. She knew that, but according to her watch, she’d done the fifteen-minute jog down through the quarry and into the glen in less than a minute. Come to think of it, she couldn’t recall much of her journey because her thoughts had been engrossed with her fall.

  “Hi, Jay!” David was walking towards her with a puzzled expression on his face. “How come you got here first?” he asked.

  “Oh, don’t ask!” Jay snapped. Her mind was in turmoil.

  “Hey, there’s no need to bite my head off,” he said. “Come on, let’s go to the cafe and wait for Mary.”

  The cafe hadn’t opened for business yet and David’s Aunt Pauline, a cheery attractive woman whose long black hair had yet to show a single strand of grey, made them both a cappuccino.

  “I’ll make Mary’s tea,” she said. “She should be on her way. Sausage sandwich is it, David, and toast for the girls?”

  “Yes, please,” they said together and laughed.

  “I don’t know why I bother to ask,” Aunt Pauline said, busying herself behind the counter. “It’s always the same – one sausage sandwich and two toast.” She disappeared into the kitchen just as Mary came in.

  She smiled when she saw them and came over. “Are you entering the talent competition, Jay?”

  “Yes, I’ve been practising a new song. Would you like to listen to it?”

  “That would be lovely but not right now, besides I want to ask you two a favour. I’d like to enter too,” she said. “But none of my clothes would be right for the competition. I was wondering if you

  two would help me choose something more suitable? I’ve got thirty pounds left over from my birthday.”

  “You, enter the talent competition?” David looked at her in surprise. “I didn’t even know you could sing. Did you, Jay?”

  “No, I mean you never get up to sing at karaoke nights.”

  Mary shrugged and appeared embarrassed. “It’s just that I’m not really into pop. I like hymns, ballads and country and western. That’s my sort of music.”

  “A ballad or country and western should be okay, but I’d forget the hymns if I was you,” Jay said, seeing her best friend in a new light now, as a rival. Not that she believed Mary could beat her. Everyone said that Jay had a great voice.

  “Go for it,” David said. “But don’t either of you ask me how I voted afterwards.”

  * * * *

  On the following Wednesday morning, Jay waited in the schoolyard for David and Mary to arrive.

  “Hey, Williams. I’d forget about entering the contest on Friday, if I was you.” Alex Matthews, who was eighteen, swaggered over towards her, accompanied by Carl Smith. “Sophie’s entering and I wouldn’t like it if she got upset because of someone beating her,” Alex said. “So why don’t you just say you’ve got a sore throat or something?”

  “I’d do like Alex says,” Carl said. “Unless you want…” He slammed his fist into his palm, making their message plain, and Jay knew that they wouldn’t hesitate to beat her up. They were bullies, and anyone who crossed them always got beaten up. Should the victims’ parents complain, then they would more than likely find that a house-brick had been thrown through their double glazed windows. Alex and his crowd had intimidation down to a fine art.

  “I’m entering,” she said, trying not to seem scared. “You can’t stop everyone…”

  “Don’t need to.” He smirked. “I’ve only got to stop you. There isn’t anyone else who might beat her and so the rest of the jerks don’t matter.” He extended a hand and ran the back of it gently down her cheek and closed in on her. “You’re quite good looking, Jay,” he murmured. “Why don’t we be mates? You haven’t got a boyfriend, have you?”

  She shoved him away from her. “Leave me alone!” she said. “I’ll tell—” The remainder was cut off when Carl grasped her throat and slammed her against the wall.

  “You tell on us and you’re dead!” he said. “We know where you live and you’d better remember that.” He let her go and, after giving her a final threatening look, the two boys walked away, leaving her shaken and afraid.

  Reluctantly,
Jay withdrew her name from the list of contestants. She hadn’t told anyone about the threats because she was fearful of what might follow if she did. David would confront them and it would end with him being beaten up. If she went to the schoolteachers, it wouldn’t help, because as soon as she mentioned Alex’s name they wouldn’t want to know. They’d given up on trying to discipline him.

  Jay lived with her grandparents, as her mum and dad had been killed in a car accident a few months after she was born, and her granddad would insist on doing something. He might even go to the police and that would mean real trouble, smashed windows, car tyres slashed, and ultimately Alex and Carl would still get their hands on her sooner or later. No, it was better to just pull out of the competition. As her grandfather often said, “Discretion is the better part of valour.”

  They were waiting for her again when she came out of the hall. Taking her by one arm each, they pulled her around the side of the steps that led up into the main building. Here, the steps screened them from the school’s CCTV security cameras.

  “Well?” Alex demanded.

  “I’ve done it. I’ve crossed my name off the list,” she said.

  He smiled and let go of her arm. “I know,” he said. “I saw you.”

  Carl nudged Alex with his elbow. “Tell her about our date, Alex.”

  “Oh, yes. Listen up, Jay. You, me, Carl and Sophie are going out on a foursome on Saturday night. Carl really fancies you, so tell your Gran that you’re going out with Mary, okay?”

  “In your dreams,” she said. “I’d rather go out with a pig!”

  Carl scowled and grabbed her hair, yanking her head back. “Watch it, Williams,” he said.

  “You’re asking for a smack in the mouth.” He let go of her hair and stepped away from her.

  “Anyway, we were only joking,” he said. “You’re not my type. I like my girls to have a decent figure, not straight up and down like you.”

  Alex laughed. “Yes, who’d want to be seen going out with a bean-pole?”

  “Good,” she said and pushed past them back into the safety of the yard. She realised that she’d been more angry than afraid because they’d tried it on with her. The thought of either of them kissing and groping her made her feel sick. She was still feeling angry when she went back to the hall and reentered her name on the competition’s entrant’s list.

  * * * *

  On the night of the contest, the girls were getting changed and putting the finishing touches to their make-up when Sophie Anderson came up to Jay.

  “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind about entering,” she said.

  Jay beamed at the older girl and nodded. “I did, twice,” she said. “Did Alex tell you that he tried to chat me up?”

  “What? Who do you think you’re kidding?” she laughed. “He told me how he and Carl wound you up, said you almost started to cry when you found out they were only kidding.” She lowered her voice. “I didn’t know that Alex and Carl had threatened you until today. I told them straight that I don’t want or need that kind of help.”

  “Thanks, Sophie, and good luck.”

  Sophie winked at her and smiled. “You, too,” she said. “But you’ll need more than luck to beat me, and that’s a promise.”

  Jay watched Sophie walk away, envying the girl’s looks and her figure. No wonder she didn’t believe that Alex would make a move on another girl.

  Jay walked onstage and was acknowledged with applause and cheers as she sang the opening few lines of her favourite Kylie Minogue song. When she finished, the accolade was even louder.

  “That was excellent,” Mary said when Jay returned. “Let’s see Sophie beat that!”

  Jay listened to Sophie singing a version of a Brittany Spears hit in wonder.

  “She’s sensational,” she murmured in amazement.

  Mary nodded. “She’s really good,” she said.

  When Sophie came off, Jay caught her arm.

  “That was astounding, Sophie,” she said. “You’ll win easily.”

  Sophie looked at her uncertainly and then gave Jay a quick smile. “Thanks,” she said. “You weren’t so bad yourself.” Then, as though embarrassed by their conversation, Sophie walked towards the changing room where drinks were laid on.

  “Mary, I’m dreadfully sorry but we don’t seem to have the music to your song,” Miss Hollinghead, the music teacher said. “I know the tune, but not well enough to play it as an accompaniment. Can you sing it without music?”

  “I guess so,” Mary said.

  After the teacher left, Jay looked at her friend. “You can’t go out there and sing without music,”

  she said.

  “I’ll have to,” Mary said. “I have to sing, Jay. You know that they’re giving us all a copy of the recording of the contest. Well, I want it for my dad’s birthday tomorrow. My mum used to sing this particular song with Dad playing the violin, and sometimes I’d sing along with her. He’s been feeling so rock-bottom recently. It’s been two years now since she passed away and I need to sing it, for him.”

  “Your dad plays the violin?” She couldn’t visualize the burly ex-miner playing the violin.

  “Only at home and he hasn’t performed since it occurred. I’ve got a tape of the music on my dresser, but I forgot it, and there isn’t enough time to go home and fetch it.”

  It was a shame about Mary’s music, thought Jay, and then she had an idea. Pulling out her mobile, she phoned Mary’s home number and breathed a sigh of relief when her father answered. She told him about the contest and Mary’s missing music. His voice was husky when he said he’d be at the school in five minutes.

  Jay hurried through the halls main doors and sat by her grandparents who whispered their congratulations on her performance. A couple of minutes later, the music teacher came up to the microphone.

  “Now we come to our final competitor, number sixteen, Mary Slymond,” Miss Hollinghead said, and led the smattering of introductory applause.

  Mary looked nervous as she walked up to the microphone, faltered and began to sing. She wavered slightly and then abruptly a single violin took up the melody and Mary was back on track. The profound haunting quality of her voice fused with the strains of the violin to perfection, and when her father walked on stage playing, Mary’s face lit up. The power and clarity of her voice filled the hall and, ultimately, when the last lingering note finally faded away, the audience erupted. Everyone, parents and children alike, sprang to their feet, applauding and Jay saw that Sophie was amongst them.

  Mary, appearing extremely embarrassed, left the platform with her father, and it took Miss Hollinghead a couple of minutes to calm everyone down again.

  “Thank you very much, everyone,” she said. “Now it’s time for the vote. If you would all use the voting slip on your programmes, some of our students will collect them from you. While they are being counted, tea, coffee and other refreshments are available in the small dining hall. It will take about fifteen minutes to count all the votes, so if you could return to your seats in twenty minutes we should have the results.”

  “I’m going to see Mary,” Jay said to her grandparents. “I’ll see you at the end.”

  “Alright, love,” Gran said. “Mary can sing a bit, can’t she?”

  “She’s absolutely wicked,” Jay agreed. “She’d walk that TV talent show.”

  Her granddad seemed surprised. “I didn’t think that was your type of music.”

  “It’s not, but with a voice like that who cares what she sings. Nobody’s going to knock someone with a voice like that.”

  Mary and her Dad were talking to Miss Hollinghead, but when Mary saw Jay approaching she said something to the adults and came over.

  “You were brilliant!” Jay said.

  Sophie came marching over to them. “What’s this about Alex and Carl being in our changingroom?” she asked. Jay looked at Mary who shrugged to show that they hadn’t heard anything about it.

  “Someone said that they’d s
een them coming out,” Sophie said. “Alex told her that they had seen some guy snooping around backstage and went in to take a look, but they weren’t supposed to be back here either.” She smiled at Jay. “Look, I know they gave you a hard time over the contest, and I’m sorry about that, honestly. It was a mean thing to do and ever since you told me how you liked my singing, I’ve been thinking that perhaps I’ve been listening to Alex too much. He says he loves me but…”

  “It’s okay,” Jay said, surprised by Sophie’s apology. “I meant what I said. You were great on stage.”

  She laughed. “I know, but not as good as Mary. You were absolutely sensational,” she said. Mary blushed. “Thanks,” she said. “You don’t mind?”

  “No. It’s funny but ever since Jay caught me coming off-stage, things feel different somehow. Anyway, life’s too short to carry grudges.”

  “Why did you ask about Alex and Carl?” Jay asked. “Something’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

  “Yes. I’m wondering if they were hiding in one of the cubicles and spying on us while we were getting changed. It’s the sort of thing they’d do.”

  “The pair of lousy creeps,” Jay said. “Oh, I’m sorry, Sophie. You and Alex are—”

  “Not anymore,” Sophie said. “He’s blown it this time.”

  “You can do better than him, anyway,” Jay said. “Even I could do better than those two.”

  “What if they were spying on us?” Mary asked. “They’d have seen…”

  “Yes, they’d have seen us undressing, but so what? That’s all they’re going to have to remember us by,” Sophie said. “They’re history as far as I’m concerned.”

  It wasn’t a great surprise when Mary won the contest and the award. Sophie came second and Jay was third.

  “Dad says we ought to have a combined birthday and celebration party tomorrow night after school,” Mary said. “You’ll come, won’t you, Jay?”

  “Of course I will. I’ll sleep over if you like. Are you going to invite David?”

  “Yes and a few of our other friends. I’d ask Sophie, too, but she’s eighteen…”

  “Yes, you’re right. She wouldn’t want to spend time with us younger kids,” Jay said.