Hidden Mortality

by Maggie Mundy

  “Jessica must think you’re really fucked up if you come out with this stuff. She’ll be asking for a holiday with the two of us on her books.”

  Cara breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t gotten up and run away, then again he was odd too.

  “She only knows about the dreams and the picture. The day I saw you at her office and you looked unwell was the day I learned my grandmother died. I doubt I’ll repeat any of this to her. I went to the bookshop today to get this book so I could make some sense of this stuff that’s happening. Then, I’ll forget it and get on with my life.”

  “You can try forgetting, but it won’t work. I thought at first there was some reason for me to see auras. Mum believed it would help me, but so far it hasn’t. It’s just happening. If you’re like me, it won’t go away. Let it take you somewhere.”

  The loony bin was where it would take her. “And where has that attitude taken you so far?”

  “It got me here sitting with you, and you’re the first person who believes me.”

  He was biting his nails. Maybe he needed her more than she needed him, but she wanted to keep in contact. “How old are you?”

  “Eighteen. Why do you want to know?”

  “You working, or still studying?”

  “Gave up school when I got too far behind. I’ve a job stocking at a supermarket.” He wouldn’t look up and stared into his coffee.

  “I run a catering business. I need a waiter to help out with the dinner parties. Would you be interested?” Daniel would probably kill her for this.

  “I suppose so. Why are you doing this? You don’t know me.” He looked up at her and pushed his fringe back so she could see both of his eyes.

  “I think we’ve both had it rough, and I’d like to help.”

  “Been a long time since a stranger wanted to help me. Trust it to be an odd one.” He laughed.

  She wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not. “This is our card. If you’re still interested in a few days, then call.”

  “Ours.” Matcher started to bite what was left of his thumbnail.

  “Daniel is my partner in the business. He’s vicious if you don’t come up with the goods. Be forewarned.” Cara said. “He is also meticulous about presentation. The piercings and the fringe would have to go.”

  “I reckon if you’re going to take a chance on me, I’ll take one on you. I’ll phone.” Matcher leaned forward and hugged her, and then quickly jumped back. “Shit, that was awesome. Your aura’s so powerful.”

  “I never felt a thing. I’ll just have to take your word on that.” Cara watched him walk off, then finished her coffee and started to make her way back to her car. There was a newsagent on the next corner. Their new advertisement for the business should be in The Bristol Evening Post. Her stomach clenched. Bile rose in her throat as she looked at the news board out the front of the shop.

  “The Slice and Dice Killer Strikes in Bath.”

  Beneath the words, was a drawing of the symbol she had seen too many times in her dreams, and on a photograph belonging to a disgruntled journalist.

  Chapter 8

  Another meal had gone well. The clients were pleased, and for the first time since she started the business, it meant nothing. It was midnight as she unpacked the dishes with Shona.

  “There’s a message on your answer machine. You want to hear it?” Shona asked, as her finger hovered over the button.

  Cara nodded.

  “Cara dearest, I was phoning because a friend of your father’s suggested your business to one of his clients. This is the date he would like for a Sunday evening for an intimate meal for two. I gave him your number. I also want to talk to you about a dinner party for us. Take care my dear, and do call if you need me.” Click. “You have no more new messages.”

  Cara had tried to talk with mum after Nanna’s death but she had clammed up. She thought they could have shared their grief together but it wasn’t to be.

  Shona gave the phone the finger. “My dearest Auntie Anne has a way with words. Her message is sparse and littered with, “don’t you dare call me.” Shona opened the fridge and found a bottle of white wine. “Looks good. Think we’ll try this one.”

  Cara bit her lower lip and contemplated a life far away in Australia where the wine originated.

  “Will you come talk to me? Must I drag you over?” Shona sat down, a glass of wine in her hand. She relaxed back on the sofa, pulling her long hair from its tight bun. “That feels so good.”

  Cara went to sit next to her cousin and picked up the second glass. There had been times in the past when getting drunk and forgetting what was happening was a solution. It didn’t seem so now.

  “The other night when we talked, I didn’t exactly tell you everything.” Cara gulped her wine.

  “I guessed that much.”

  “I told you I was having dreams about dead bodies. I’ve also been having dreams where I kill someone with a knife, or I watch someone else kill them. I carve a symbol into their abdomens and stab them through the heart. So if you want to leave and go home now and not be around a mad woman, I understand.” Cara gave a feeble smile, hoping against all odds Shona would understand.

  “That’s some intense dreaming, girl.”

  “I told Jessica about the dreams. She believes it’s related to the stress of the surgery and the loss of the baby. She says I’m torturing my own body. The day I went to The Evening Post, I saw a reporter drop a picture with a body that had the same marks I dream about. I read his article. He described a copycat killer, a murderer who killed like that in the past. The reporter wrote the police are holding back. I’m starting to think he was right. The other day, the paper said they have another body with the same symbol on it.” Cara emptied her glass and refilled it.

  “I saw that in the paper too. It’s just some sicko doing creepy stuff. Anyway, what are you saying? Do you think you’re slipping out at night in some strange dream state and killing people?” Shona raised her eyes to the ceiling.

  Cara told Shona about Matcher and her strange afternoon with him. It all seemed a bit bizarre now. She wasn’t sure she really believed he could see auras. Shona was right, Cara thought. She had probably seen the symbol in some old book. With the operation and her own abdomen being opened up, it had probably caused the dreams. Now some random person was killing people and leaving the mark on them because they had seen it in a book too. Shona had made sense of it all. It was what she needed, Cara decided.

  “I drew a picture of the knife from my dreams.” Cara got the picture and placed it down on the coffee table.

  Shona leant forward to get a better look, picking up the drawing. As Shona worked in an antique shop she had probably seen something like it before. Boscombe, her boss, loved old weapons so it was likely.

  “I’m surprised you could find anything in that bedroom of yours.”

  “It was in the study. Even I need some order amongst the chaos.” Cara peered at Shona to try and gauge what she thought of the picture.

  “It looks old. I’m sure I’ve seen something like it. I’ll ask Boscombe to have a look. He specializes in daggers and swords. Can I keep it?”

  Cara hesitated. “Sure, I’ve got a copy.”

  “I’m so glad you’ve found this Matcher guy. I won’t feel so bad about not helping out anymore.” Shona folded the picture and stuffed it in her purse.

  “I know you’ve never been that keen on waitressing.”

  “You’re right. I wanted to help out with your business when you were getting started, and the extra cash is good. It’s been so hectic recently at the shop. Every other week we’re off to some antique fair. I love the job, but it’s exhausting. So what do you think of your mother’s message?”

  “It’s just a dinner party. There will be some eligible man the
re with a decent background. They don’t get it. It’s my choice who I want to be with, or without, as the case may be.” Cara took a large gulp of wine.

  “You could always introduce your young emo as your new boyfriend.” Shona laughed.

  “You know it might be worth it just to see the look on her face.” They both cracked up. “Thanks for being here tonight. It’s been good having someone to talk to.” Cara reached out and grabbed Shona’s hand.

  “Well we’ve sorted out all the other stuff so what about the witch stuff? Do you mean to tell me you did spells with Nanna since you were a kid and didn’t tell me?”

  “Yes and I’ve done a few recently, just to help me understand what was going on. They could just be my imagination playing tricks on me though.”

  “Do one for me now.” Shona sat forward with a wicked grin on her face.

  “Nanna used to say magic should never be taken lightly. Anyway I thought we were trying to prove this was all make-believe.” Maybe doing magic drunk was against the rules.

  “Just a little spell. We’ll know for sure it’s all rubbish if nothing happens and you really are imagining it all.”

  “I have to create a protective circle around us and call on the power of the Earth.” Cara didn’t know why she was explaining but Shona looked keen to see something. Cara pulled up her sleeve to show the big purple bruise on her forearm where she had dropped a heavy casserole dish. “On my arm is a bruise from yesterday. Use the power of the earth and make it go away.”

  Shona screwed up her face, totally unimpressed. “Is that it? All you have to do is make up a rhyme and things happen?”

  “I know you wanted a Lotto ticket but I’ll start small.” They watched as the purple bruise changed color to blue, then pink and was gone. She couldn’t believe she had shown someone this, even Shona. This really was her and she had to accept it.

  “Oh my god you really did that. Why aren’t you doing more? I need to pee. Tell me more when I get back.”

  “I’ll take Merlin out for a wee too. Then I’ll make the bed settee up,” Cara called after the wobbling Shona. She would wait for Merlin outside. Since the attack, she wanted him in as much as possible but he would drive her insane sometimes scratching to get out. He never went beyond the garden at the front of the house now, which was good.

  Later, Cara lay in bed unable to sleep. Shona had badgered but she wouldn’t do any more spells. It seemed wrong to use the magic just for entertainment. Maybe she would wake up in the morning and be in a straitjacket somewhere, because her mind certainly couldn’t calm down.

  She turned on her bedside light and fumbled around on her bedside table until she found the shamrock necklace. She put it on and lay down. The pendant felt cool between her thumb and forefinger. Touching the pendant made her think about Seth and her dreams. He was one thing she hadn’t shared with her cousin, no matter how much wine they drank.

  Two weeks and no nightmares or strange things happening. It was good. Maybe life really was returning to normal, whatever that was. It had obviously just been one of those times when things were out of kilter. She wanted to believe strange things instead of the sensible ones, just because the sensible ones were unpleasant. Okay she had accepted her witch side, but that didn’t mean she had to do spells all the time. She also didn’t want to accept chopped up bodies and her involvement with them.

  What was more amazing was Daniel even liked Matcher. They had a rather heated discussion on snakebite piercings, and the eyebrow ring had to come out. Matcher agreed. He didn’t even complain. Cara still wondered how he was going to see what he was serving with hair covering half of his face.

  There were going to be eight guests for the dinner party at her mother’s apartment. For once, Cara was going to be allowed to choose what she wanted to serve. When Matcher walked out of the bathroom at her place that night, she almost didn’t recognize him. His long fringe was gelled back and she could see both of his lovely brown eyes.

  “My goodness, you scrub up good.” She hugged him. “It won’t be too bad today, I promise. This isn’t a meal with too much detail. We rely more on the taste to bowl them over. Oh, and by the way, don’t, believe Daniel. My parents only turn into dragons at midnight.” Cara laughed and hoped Matcher didn’t pick up on the fact she thought they were dragons already.

  “You know Cara, Daniel and Jeff have the most combined aura’s I’ve ever seen. I like him. I like them both. They’re a bizarre match though, a bit like you choosing me as a waiter.” He shook his head at her.

  She wanted to ask him something she had wondered since she met him. “If you look in the mirror, can you see your own aura? I’d be interested to know what it shows.”

  “Can’t see a thing.” He shrugged.

  Her mother was the elegant and knowledgeable hostess to her friends and somewhat dubious acquaintances as she always was. The meal was perfect and suitably extravagant for her parents who were all about impressions. Sometimes Cara wondered if she had been adopted.

  The starter was smoked Irish salmon mixed with swirls of cream cheese flavored with chives and dill served on thin slices of toasted soda bread. The main was one Daniel excelled at, Guinness and honey glazed duck accompanied by parsnip, potato and mint fritters covered with goat cheese, plus spiced kale and honeyed carrots. Now, the guests would be tucking into the best apple and rhubarb pie and rich Irish cream they had ever tasted.

  Peeking through the dining room door, Cara viewed them at the table. Mother, Father, and next to them were their long-time friends, Carol and John Churchill.

  Seated by them was the other partner in her dad’s law firm, Doug. He wasn’t there with his wife tonight as expected. The older woman he had brought with him was called Tarin. She didn’t speak much English, but held herself with such dignity.

  Doug was obviously mesmerized by Tarin. Cara reckoned the woman was going to eat him up for breakfast. Talk about going from the frying pan into the fire. Mum apparently didn’t like his new choice as she had been friends with his previous wife. Anne said she thought Tarin opinionated which in mum speak meant, she was not the polite little wife.

  Lastly, were two men intended to be prospective suitors. They were probably annoyed at this moment for the lack of available females present. One looked like the typical candidate her parents always chose. His name was Thomas and he was an accountant. Surprise, surprise!

  The other one wasn’t talking. He just watched everyone. His clothes were expensive and fit his firm physique well. His black hair was well cut, with a slight touch of gray at the temples. Mother had said his name was Vincent. He had bought the house next door. In Sneyd Park, an elite area of Bristol, owning property meant money, lots of it.

  Daniel didn’t think Vincent was gay, and her partner’s radar was usually good. Someone tapped her shoulder. Cara jumped and let out a little squeak.

  “Becoming a peeping Tom, Cara?” Daniel grinned, as he stood next to her, peering through the gap. “Just because we’re on dessert doesn’t mean you can slack off, Anne’s going to expect you to make yourself glamorous to show off to the prospective mates.”

  Daniel groaned, as she dug him in the ribs with her elbow. “Matcher’s been good for his first evening, but tell him he’s on trial for a month. By the way, are you going to tell me now where you met him?”

  “No.” Cara poked out her tongue.

  “Don’t worry, I love a challenge. There’s something about him that’s different. Saw his name on his tax file. It’s beautiful. Why he doesn’t use it is beyond me.”

  “Trust me, Daniel, for once in your life, leave it alone.” Cara hoped her steely look would dissuade him but doubted it.

  At that moment Vincent turned and peered at the door. Cara moved away, her heart beating fast. She needed to work, not dawdle anymore. She started to prepare the coffees. Then,
her mother walked into the kitchen. She gave her regular ingratiating smile to Daniel, before coming across to bestow the obligatory hug and fake kiss on each of Cara’s cheeks.

  “Cara, the meal was wonderful.”

  “Thank you.” Cara winked at Daniel over her mother’s shoulder. He blew her an over-the-top kiss back. The only partner her mother considered appropriate was one Cara could marry. She would have liked to take credit for choosing a gay business partner on purpose to annoy her mum, but it had just been pure luck. “Daniel and I do our best.”

  Mother nodded to Daniel. He had accepted long ago it was the only acknowledgment he would ever get. “I want to introduce you to some new friends of ours. I think they might help your little business venture.”

  “If anyone out there is offering free financial advice, we’re always willing to listen for the cost of a meal.” Cara smiled sweetly.

  Her mother pursed her lips and looked her up and down, frowning. Cara didn’t want to look like the classic chef with white top and check pants. Anyway her hips were too big to make those pants look acceptable. She opted for brown pants. They hid most stains. On top, she wore a cream v-necked T-shirt under her dark blue apron that had their logo printed in gold on it.

  Following her mother into the dining room, she glanced back at Daniel. He was the only one to see her crossed fingers. Introductions to the known guests came first. Cara couldn’t complain as they kept having plenty of bookings from her parents’ close friends.

  Then came the moment for her introduction to the prospective marriage partners her mother chose. First, was Thomas. He didn’t stand up when they were introduced. The other guy Vincent wasn’t there. Thomas toyed with his pie and cream until it resembled a milky congealed glue. Cara hoped he could see her eyes glaring at what he was doing to her food. Did he not realize that it wasn’t just any apple and rhubarb pie? The pastry melted in the mouth as the flavors of the butter, cinnamon, and fruits rippled across the tongue.