First Soul

by Keeley Smith

He could hear the banging of pots and pans in the kitchen but he didn’t want to leave his warm bed. He didn’t need an alarm clock with that racket, and it wasn’t even a school day.

  “Ste, breakfast!”

  He groaned and threw the covers off. He shivered as his feet touched the dark wooden floor. Jumping onto the large rug so at least his feet remained a little warm whilst the rest of his body shrivelled like a prune, he pulled a jumper over his head as he hurried down the stairs.

  His house had changed considerably since the quest. Every room was now a different colour. His room was a rich honey colour, the colour of his mother’s eyes. The carpets had been ripped up revealing lovely wooden floorboards that had been polished and varnished so now they shined.

  “Morning, sleepyhead,” Patricia said messing up his hair as he passed her.

  “Morning,” he said with a grin.

  Patricia stood flicking at scrambled eggs wearing her pink dressing gown with her silver hair pulled into a neat plait down her back. The smell of bacon and egg moved across the warm kitchen making his stomach growl. Now this was what life should be like, waking up to a full English breakfast.

  The kitchen was now a warm buttercup colour, one Phillip’s mother, Patricia, had picked making the room seem bigger than it was. His mother had painted the walls a citrus orange but due to years of abuse and neglect on his father’s part, the colour had faded to a dull looking carroty vomit. The counters were now a modern oak colour, the cabinets a soft egg white. He was happy to see the old stained kitchen removed. Patricia had added canvas art to the walls, ones she’d painted herself of flowers that were made up of soft colours, oranges, yellows and melon that swirled together. He didn’t like art all that much but they looked nice.

  He walked to the table, one Phillip’s father had restored to its former glory, and smiled when he caught sight of the posy of fresh daisies sitting in a small painted vase. Phillip’s mother liked to add little things like this. He’d missed the womanly touches around the house. He sat and tucked into the buttered toast that was piled high on a plate in the middle of the table. Phillip was sat across from him and smiled as his hand pushed a spoonful of cornflakes into his waiting mouth.

  It had been nearly four weeks since their little quest and he still thought about it every day. They’d walked Deyna home who was rather tearful to be leaving them which he found rather odd, how could she be upset that the whole thing was finally over? In his opinion, she should have been relieved. They’d escaped hell. Literally.

  The two of them had walked along the street in silence until Phillip coughed uncomfortably and told him that he was coming to his house. Stephen had felt relief that his friend understood how he felt. He’d spent the silent walk wondering how he was going to manage with everything on his own.

  Stephen had walked into the house, entering the darkened room to find his father on the sofa with a bottle just out of reach on the floor and vomit all over his clothes. He hadn’t needed to check for a pulse, the stench of death singed his nostril hairs as soon as he’d stepped foot into the kitchen. He’d rung the police and ambulance to report this. The coroner had stated that it was death by alcohol poisoning.

  Case closed.

  He’d cremated the body and the ashes had been scattered by Phillip’s father. Stephen didn’t want to know where, he didn’t care.

  The next day Phillip’s parents had visited him, Phillip had looked rather sheepish as they had explained what they were going to do. Stephen sat in silence listening to them discuss a plan that had been agreed years before. His mother had made them legal guardians of Stephen before she’d died and she’d also signed the house over in his name. He owned a house at the age of sixteen. Before Stephen knew what was happening Phillip’s parents had moved in to his house the very next day and he’d never felt more at home since his mother had died.

  Phillip’s father, George, walked into the kitchen, his light brown hair sprinkled with white was strategically combed to cover the ever growing bald patches on his head. He patted his slightly bulging stomach, walked over to Patricia, kissing her noisily on the cheek.

  “I’m trying to eat,” Phillip complained but still continued to shovel the cornflakes in his mouth.

  Phillip complained every morning but he didn’t mean it, it was for show, Stephen enjoyed watching them interact. He’d missed this growing up. George grinned and took a seat at the table.

  “Morning, boys.”

  Stephen smiled and attacked another piece of toast as George lifted the local newspaper in the air hiding his face behind it.

  Patricia placed his cooked breakfast in front of him, much to Phillip’s disgust. For some strange reason Phillip couldn’t eat pig first thing in the morning. Stephen loved pig any time of the day.

  “Well, I never...” George whispered.

  Patricia sat down and chewed her bacon looking at her husband expectantly.

  “Do you remember Lester Andrews? The man who murdered his wife?”

  Phillip coughed, choking on his cereal. Stephen felt the jolt at hearing the familiar name. They glanced at each other and continued eating like nothing had been said, but they were listening intently to what George said. What could the newspaper know about Lester?

  “Yes... if I recall it was the lovely Marie that was murdered and Lee Turner.”

  Stephen sensed the tone used when Lee was mentioned. He nearly smiled, obviously Phillip’s mother hadn’t liked Lee.

  George was nodding as he read. “Well, it says here that he wasn’t guilty... here look...”

  George turned the paper around which gave Stephen and Phillip the perfect excuse to read it.

  ‘New evidence has come to light regarding the 1975 case against Lester Andrews. Committed to a life in prison, Andrews died whilst serving his term. However this new evidence, given to the police by an anonymous tip off, suggested the evidence was incorrect.

  After much research, the evidence proves that Andrews was in fact innocent of the charges against him. Amblewood police have given Andrews a full pardon of his crimes and have offered their sincere apologies for their misconduct.’

  Stephen managed to contain the delighted jump of glee in the kitchen.

  “Are you telling me that man died in prison and he was innocent? It is such a shame that he could never know that he was proven innocent, that poor man,” Patricia sighed sadly.

  Phillip looked at him and nodded. “Right, mum, we have to get off.”

  “Where are you going on a Sunday?”

  “We are meeting up with Deyna.”

  George laughed. “You three are as thick as thieves. I thought you was going to the police station, Stephen?”

  “I errrmmmm....”

  Phillip looked at him in shock, he hadn’t mentioned anything to Phillip.

  “I will go this afternoon.”

  Stephen had made a decision not long after their quest. He quite liked the idea of becoming part of the police force and doing something to help others, to prove their innocence. He could thank Lester for this, that man hadn’t been supported by the police and he wanted to change this for others.

  “Right, well, don’t get up to any mischief.”

  Stephen smiled as Phillip winked and slapped him on the back. “You’ve decided then?”

  “Yeah, I want to make a difference, you know... I want to help people, people like Lester.”

  “You will no doubt be the best police officer Amblewood has ever seen, I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks, Pip.”

  j

  Deyna waited for them outside the gates to the cemetery. Her lovely ash hair hung loosely around her shoulders. He could see that she’d made an effort with her makeup and her clothes. Stephen cocked his head to the side and studied her. He had to admit that her new look suited her, the skinny jeans highlighted a figure she’d always kept hidden under baggy clothes. She looked great, and the girls at the school
were starting to notice. She’d received seven party invitations in the last two weeks alone.

  “Have you been in yet?” Phillip asked as they neared her.

  “No, I thought it best we all went in together.”

  They walked into the cemetery, his eyes stalking the perimeter of the woods. Just in case. They walked along the path and turned towards their usual spot. Seeing it for the first time had the three of them stopping.

  The headstone they’d picked was perfect. It was a light marble, cold to the touch but showing many layers. They thought it presented Lester perfectly. His name was engraved in the hard surface followed by his date of birth, Deyna had found it after lots of research. They didn’t add the date of death because they knew that Lester still lived in his own unique way.

  Underneath his birth date they’d added:

  ‘Loving husband to Marie

  and great friend.’

 

  Deyna placed the white roses at the base of his headstone and sniffed a little as she stood back.

  “Thank you.”

  They turned at the whisper of Lester’s voice in the wind. He felt the hairs on his arms stand up as a sudden gust of wind surged around them. He felt the urge to tell Lester the news in the paper but he knew that Lester wouldn’t care. He had the trust of the three people in this cemetery and he was with Marie. That was all he’d needed.

  Stephen placed his arm around Deyna and looked once more at the name. Phillip touched the headstone saying his goodbyes.

  “So, what do we do about the whole soul business?” Deyna asked.

  All three of them glanced at the black wristbands. Stephen shrugged. “We deal with it when it comes. We’ve dealt with Death once before and we won, next time we will be better prepared for whatever is thrown our way.”

  “Easy for you to say, you’ve already saved your soul,” Phillip murmured.

  “I couldn’t have saved Lester without the two of you and it doesn’t matter which one of you is picked next because we will always work together as a team.”

  They hadn’t been a team before the quest, they’d nearly been three people going their own ways, now, thanks to Lester, they were going to remain firm friends for the rest of their lives. If giant eagles, rabid wolves, furless dogs and Death couldn’t break them apart, he wouldn’t let a little thing called life do it.

  A playful gust of wind glided around them hinting at Lester’s approval. Stephen stepped towards the headstone and placed his hand there.

  “We will be back on Friday.”

  They turned and walked out of the cemetery.

  At least for today they knew there wouldn’t be another quest.

  Returned

  Book One in the Pendle Hill trilogy

  17 year old Cora Hunt has one wish, to live the life of a normal teenager.

  Her wish never comes true.

  After her reluctant move to a sleepy village in the middle of Lancashire, Cora's life is turned upside down when she discovers she is a witch. Cora is not just any old witch, she is the daughter of Alizon Device, who was one of the most powerful witches of her time.

  Dealing with her new found powers is quite a challenge, but when the past she didn't know about unearths new complications in the form of Jack Thomas, her life becomes increasingly dangerous with each waking minute.

  Jack also has a secret past, a past that clashes with Cora's.

  A confrontation between the two results in a life or death situation. The brutal events of 1612 happened hundreds of years ago, but what Jack and Cora face is a definite déjà vu.

  The only question is, will their fate be the same as those who perished in 1612?

  About the author

  Keeley lives in West Yorkshire in the UK with her husband. She has a BA Honours in English Literature and Language from the Open University which she got between writing books, buying her first home and getting married.

  When she isn't writing and spending time with her "book friends", she also loves to read and create jewellery.

  You can visit her at www.keeleysmithauthor.com

  You can also follow her on Twitter: @keeley_smith1 and on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Keeley.Smith.Fan

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