by Issy Brooke
Francine was starting to shiver. She was still hugging herself, but for warmth now. “So, if we’re not following them, what are we doing?”
“Do you guys want to come back to mine?” Penny asked.
Drew shook his head. “I’ll get away home,” he said. “And slip into something a bit more comfortable than this get-up.” He waved and melted away into the darkness.
Francine slipped her arm into Penny’s, and nestled close. “I’ll come back to yours for a quick drink,” she said.
“I wasn’t offering you a drink,” Penny teased.
“I’ll have one anyway. After all, we need to plan your attack.”
The two friends started walking down River Street towards Penny’s low terraced cottage. Most people’s front room curtains were pulled closed, with chinks of light showing along the edges. Colours flickered from televisions, and canned laughter rang out from one house as they passed. Somewhere, an owl hooted.
“What attack is this?” Penny asked, thinking that of all the places to plan a battle, sleepy Glenfield drifting towards a quiet winter hibernation was not at the top of the list.
“Your attack. You know, on Drew.”
“Oh, Drew.”
“Exactly,” Francine said, tugging on Penny’s arm. “This has gone on long enough. You need to get that man to declare himself, or move on to other things. Other men.”
“You’re a typical newly loved-up person,” Penny complained. “You assume anyone who is single wants to be in a relationship. You want everyone else to feel like you feel.”
Francine stopped short. “Of course,” she said in surprise. “And what’s wrong with that? I’m happy. You’re my friend. Therefore I want you to be happy too.”
Penny grumbled and they carried on, and reached her house where she fumbled for her keys and let themselves in to be temporarily attacked by a joyful Rottweiler.
She was reluctant to admit anything to Francine, and fuel her match-making proclivities. But she did have a point. Penny and Drew had been engaged in a to-and-fro dance since she had moved to Glenfield. And nothing had been explicitly said, from either side, about where they actually stood in relation to one another.
Things had to come to a head with Drew. One way – or the other.
Chapter Three
In spite of the bottle of bottom-shelf supermarket wine that they shared between them, Penny didn’t feel too hungover on Friday morning. She suspected it was to do with the clear autumn weather. The turning season had brought with it a late Indian summer, and as September had shaded into October, the days remained bright and the air full of light. The mornings were crisply chilly but it was worth walking her dog early. She would often drive a little way westwards, to where the hills of the Wolds began to rise up. She would take Kali along a ridge that ran like a spine along the split between the flat Fenlands and the rolling hills. The mist would lie in fluffy layers across the low lands, sometimes in a blanket so thin that the dark tops of trees poked through like alien hands.
After the bracing early walk, she let Kali flop down in the living room in a patch of sunlight. She was like a six-stone cat, albeit one with a tendency to get scared of random things like other dogs, flapping carrier bags, hats with ear flaps and sparrows.
Kali was a rescue dog but after many long months of patient retraining and not a few tears, finally she was able to walk in public places without freaking out and becoming everyone’s worst nightmare; a Rottweiler with bared teeth and foaming mouth. She had even made some doggy friends through Penny’s occasional voluntary work at the local dogs’ home.
Now she lay on her back, presenting her belly to the world, and grinned.
Penny shook her head in delighted mock exasperation. “I’m going shopping,” she told the unconcerned dog. “Guard the house.”
Kali thumped her tail on the floor three times, and went to sleep.
* * * *
Penny pottered through the small town centre. The warm weather had brought people out. Agatha was sitting outside her hairdressing salon, deep in conversation with another woman. Both were dressed in variations on animal prints, and it looked like a confrontation on the Serengeti. Someone waved to Penny from the market entrance, where they were leaning against the wall to drink from a cardboard coffee mug. She didn’t recognise them, but she waved back.
Sunshine made everyone happy.
She wandered into the Post Office to buy a set of stamps, and some large board-backed envelopes. Her photography was going very well. Her arts and crafts website was selling more of her prints than her handmade and hand-printed bags, and she had a few more orders to fulfil later that day.
The woman behind the counter was almost entirely spherical, and dressed in red. “Now then!” she called in greeting.
“Hi, Sheila. What a shame you’re stuck inside.”
Sheila wagged her pudgy finger at Penny. “You are the twenty-first person to say something like that, and I can tell you I’m getting close to having a fit, doing something unspeakable and closing up shop for the day.”
“Oh, sorry.”
“It’s all right. That’s life, mustn’t really grumble and all that. The forecast is set fair for another week, at the least. Will you be joining us this Sunday?”
“Oh – the ramblers’ group? Where are you going?”
“We’re heading through Hudson’s Woods. It will be lovely as the leaves are changing. Do come. We haven’t seen you for a little while.”
“I think I might,” Penny said. “It’ll be nice to see folks again.”
“They do ask about you, you know. We miss you. Kevin in particular. You remember him?”
Penny did. He was the owner of a hyperactive spaniel called Growler and had been one of the first local residents to offer her support and advice for Kali’s problematic behaviour. “Yes, I remember him. He was very good to me. How is he doing?”
Sheila pursed her lips and sucked in a dramatic breath. “Well now! You’ll have heard the news, I imagine…”
“What news?”
“Don’t play as if you don’t know,” Sheila said. “I know you know. Everyone knows. That Julie Rose woman was found dead and the police are all scratching their heads cos it’s not every day that a perfectly healthy woman just drops down dead, you know.”
“It happens, from time to time,” Penny said.
“But she was only thirty-nine!”
“Even so, I wouldn’t be jumping to any conclusions. But what has that got to do with Kevin?”
“Well, he knew her, see,” said Sheila, winking madly.
“Are you all right?”
“You know … knew her.”
“Oh! They were lovers!” Penny exclaimed.
“No,” Sheila said with a sigh. “I mean, they had a massive row and haven’t talked for months. When I say row, I mean a proper all-out-argument. It went on and on. It became a feud, you might say.”
Penny frowned. “He’s a window cleaner, isn’t he? What happened? Did he smash a window or – oh, wait, I’ve got it. He maybe saw something he shouldn’t have!”
Sheila shook her head. “You have a filthy mind. Honestly. Affairs and snooping on folks and peeking through windows … no. It was about the dogs, really.”
“His dog, Growler?”
“And hers. She had quite a few. There had been a fight.”
“Oh.” If Penny had fallen out with everyone that her own dog had barked at, she’d have no friends left. There was a queue of people growing behind her, so she paid for her envelopes and stamps and said, “Hopefully, I’ll see you on Sunday.”
“Of course,” Sheila said. “Anyway, you’ll be wanting to investigate Kevin, now, won’t you?”
“Er …” Penny smiled tightly and retreated.
Absolutely not, she thought as she left the shop and stepped out into blinding light. Nope. No way. Nothing to do with me.
She shifted her bag of purchases up her wrist and grabbed her mobile phone. Her sister Ariadn
e didn’t pick up, so Penny left her a voicemail message.
“Hi Ari, just me. Um, kinda wondering, you know when you started your dog walking business … it was with a woman called Julie, wasn’t it? Give me a call back when you get this. Cheers.”
* * * *
Ariadne didn’t call back until around seven that evening. “Come over,” she demanded, and hung up.
And hello, and how are you, and how lovely to speak to you too, Penny thought sarcastically as she wandered out of her house and down the street to where Ariadne was renting a similar cottage.
Ariadne had lived there with two of her three children since fleeing an abusive relationship a few months previously. Things had taken an unpleasant turn but finally she was living in the peace that she had always deserved.
“Hey there,” Penny said as Ariadne let her in. She launched into her speech but was stopped almost immediately. “So this Julie woman – oh my goodness, Ariadne. What’s wrong?”
Her younger sister was slender, and with her bony shoulders hunched up she looked almost frail. She had been crying, and her face was blotchy. She threw herself into an armchair in the square living room, and hugged a cushion to her chest. The furniture was mostly second-hand, and mismatched, but she had made it comfortable.
“Everything is wrong,” she said.
Wolf, her twelve-year-old son, was sitting on the floor, a tablet computer propped on his knees and a large bowl of snacks by his side. He shook his head in exasperation but didn’t comment or look up.
“Shall I put the kettle on, then?” Penny said.
Ariadne sulked.
“Wolf?”
“Yes please, I’ll have one.”
“And where’s Destiny?”
“That is the problem!” Ariadne said, and Penny’s stomach lurched.
“What?” She thought the teenage girl might have run away or something equally traumatic.
Ariadne squeezed her eyes shut and said, through gritted teeth, “She’s only gone and got herself excluded from school.”
* * * *
Penny made the tea in thoughtful silence. Destiny hated school; everyone knew it. Unlike her studious younger brother, who could easily read a book a day, she was not interested in anything academic. She’d been at Glenfield Academy since the start of September – a mere six weeks.
Exclusion sounded devastating.
Penny carried the tray of tea back into the living room. Ariadne was still curled in her chair.
“Come on,” Penny said. “Tell me everything.”
“It’s the end of the world,” Ariadne said.
“No, it’s not. Are people screaming and fleeing from zombies? Is there a fiery ball of flame in the sky?”
“That would be cool,” Wolf said, from his nest on the floor.
“Be quiet, you,” Ariadne said. “You’ve got a project to complete.” She sighed and sat forwards, and finally made a bleary kind of eye contact with her sister. “I’m sorry, and thanks for coming over. I thought it was all settled, that we were all settled. Then this happens. I don’t think I’ve got the strength to go through more, you know?”
“Of course you do,” Wolf said cheerfully. “You’re still alive.”
“You’re not helping,” Ariadne said. “Get on with your work.”
Penny narrowed her eyes at Ariadne, and said to Wolf, “Yes, you are helping, and your mum is sorry for snapping at you. Aren’t you.”
“Yes, yes I am.” Ariadne groaned and rubbed at her eyes. “Sorry, Wolf. You’re a good kid. Right, okay, from the top. Destiny hasn’t settled at school. She got put on a plan almost straight away. I’ve been going to those meetings with the pastoral team and honestly, I cannot fault them. Her form tutor has really tried. They moved her classes, they shifted things around, everything. But she can’t keep her mouth shut and she won’t stick to the rules and she’s just a horrible, horrible student.”
“What age can she leave, now? They keep changing it,” Penny said.
“She’s got at least three years left.”
“Ouch.”
“If she goes back. The thing is, she has been put on a temporary exclusion. They don’t want her back after the two weeks of half-term holiday. They are talking with some other, I dunno, agencies or something. I don’t even know how it works. We’ve got a meeting after the holiday. But I don’t know what’s going to happen yet.” Ariadne began to crumple again, and a tear rolled down her face. “I just don’t know what’s happening, and why she’s doing this to me.”
“I don’t think she’s doing it to you,” Penny said, passing her the box of tissues. “She’s just not cut out for school.”
“But she has to be, or how will she ever get a job?” Ariadne blew her nose and sniffed. “Is it genetic? Are my own mistakes now going to be all repeated in her?”
“No, no,” Penny said. “And all that is behind you, now.”
“Some things never get left behind.”
“He’s … gone,” Penny said.
“He’s dead,” Wolf offered helpfully. The children had had plenty of trauma counselling, and seemed to be bouncing back – mostly – quite well. One rule was that they should talk openly about what had happened, and not use euphemisms, a task the children found easier than the adults.
Penny thought that Destiny’s current troubles could quite easily be explained by the shocking death of her father, bully though he had been.
Ariadne, however, was shaking her head. “It’s not even that,” she said. “I mean the …” and she tailed off.
“The what?”
“You had left home.”
Penny bit back her retort. Not this again, she thought. They had not been close sisters, and Ariadne still seemed to harbour resentments at Penny for her leaving and going to London. Instead of arguing, Penny changed the subject abruptly. She leaned forward. “So, what’s your project about, Wolf?”
Ariadne sipped at her cooling tea while Wolf showed her the images he was gathering about bonfire night. “There was this man, Guy Fawkes, and he wanted to blow up Parliament,” he said, pointing at a woodcut on the screen. “It was 1605. He was a Catholic, you see, and you weren’t supposed to be a Catholic back then, because everyone had become Protestants but not everyone wanted to be, so they stayed as secret Catholics. And then there was James, King James, he has king of Scotland and then he got England as well. But because he was Scottish and he wanted to join the countries up, right, people were annoyed with him. So they wanted to stop it.”
Wolf held his laptop up so she could see a woodcut of the house of Parliament. “And there was, like, this massive conspiracy to store all this gunpowder underneath, thirty-six barrels of it, and everything. Boom! Can you imagine if he’d succeeded?”
“We’d all be Catholic now, wouldn’t we?”
“Not necessarily,” Wolf said, his childish enthusiasm for explosives fading into a more serious tone. “There would have been a backlash against him, you know, like now, if someone blows something up for this or that, they don’t get a lot of support from most people.”
“That’s true.” Penny sneaked a look at her sister, who was blowing her nose and trying to calm herself down. “Wolf, are you interested in history?”
“Yeah. Well, everything, really.”
“It’s just that there’s going to be a history day event this weekend. Drew – you remember him? – is going to be there, dressed up as an old soldier. Civil war, he said. When was that?”
“Um…” Wolf tapped onto a search engine. “1861? No, wait, that’s America. It always defaults to American history. Here you go. 1642.”
She peered at the images of men in baggy breeches. “That looks like him. Yes, come down and see what’s happening this weekend.”
“Cool. I’ll take photos,” Wolf said.
“It’s all fascinating. Good luck with your project.” Penny patted his shoulder and sneaked another glance up at her sister.
The few moments of distraction had given
Ariadne some time to gather herself. She smiled weakly at Penny. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m still a mess, aren’t you?”
“You need to wash your face, yeah. And your hair is terrible. But no, I know what you mean. It’s okay. Don’t apologise. And listen. I’ll give Drew a call, right? He works at The Acorns, that centre for kids who have been excluded permanently. He’ll know what to do, I’m sure of it.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, he knows lots.”
“No, I mean, you’ll really help me?” Ariadne’s plaintive vulnerability nearly broke Penny’s heart.
“Yes, you great daft lump. Of course I’ll help you. Oh, Wolf, pass up the tissues again…”
Chapter Four
Drew was more than happy to help. He had become a freelance outdoor instructor and fieldcraft tutor, but a great deal of his work had come from a local hotel and conference centre where he had been running outdoor team-building courses. Since the recent closure of the hotel, he had more free time – but less money – than usual.
Penny, Ariadne, Destiny, Wolf and Drew met at the slipe, which was an area of common land that bordered the river that ran along the south side of the town. It was Drew’s suggestion. He had a theory that it was easier for people to open up and talk if they were doing something else, like walking. The slipe was a popular area to walk both dogs and people. Most people didn’t go too far from the car parking spot, but the paths and tracks led away from the slipe and out into the agricultural land to the east.
As it was Saturday morning, it was busy. The children’s play area echoed with laughter and the odd scream from time to time.