by A B Turner
I tried to sit up again, but my head was still too heavy,
“You are beautiful, simple as that,” I said, “and I am drunk.”
“Me too,” said Louise sleepily, “thank you for my birthday, it’s been…”
I waited for her to finish the sentence, but after a few minutes of silence, it became clear she had fallen asleep. After a failed attempt to get up, I rested back and allowed myself to drift off, my brain had checked out hours earlier, so it didn’t take long for me to sink into some kind of temporary oblivion. As this memory came into my mind, I wished sleep was so easy for me on this night,
I had hoped so as I was still tired from work, but after an hour of tossing and turning, it became glaringly obvious, this was not going to happen. I clambered out of bed and walked over to the window, aside from the twinkling lights of the town in the far distance, there was no other light and no sound. It felt as if I was the only person in the world who was awake and I hated it, my whole body was tired, my mind was exhausted and yet, there was some tiny, rebellious part of me, which demanded to be noticed. Suddenly I saw lights coming up the lane, it was a car, winding its way carefully though the high hedges. As it stopped outside the house, I saw Mum get out of the passenger side, she called out goodnight and turned towards the front door, but the driver called out to her,
“Jocelyn, you need to think about what I’ve said, promise me you will because this isn’t going to go away, not now.”
The voice sounded both matter-of-fact and concerned, at the same time, from the tone, I could tell it was a man speaking, but I didn’t recognise him at all. Mum glanced up at the house, I quickly ducked under the window sill and as my light was off, I reasoned she wouldn’t be able to see me any way.
“Look Joe, I know what I’m doing, “she said firmly, “It’s almost all paid back, then this whole mess is over, once and for all.”
“Do you really think this is only about the money?” asked the voice, “You know he wants more than that.”
I heard rapid footsteps in the gravel which came to an abrupt halt,
“What he wants and what will happen, aren’t necessarily the same thing, Joe,” Mum hissed angrily, “Now thank you for all your help, but I really need to get inside.”
I heard her push the key into the front door as the car started, I could hear the engine ticking over for several minutes after she’d come into the house, as if the driver was hesitating about leaving for some reason. By the time she was walking up the stairs, it finally pulled away from the house, I cautiously peeked over the window sill just in time to see it disappear back down the lane. Once I heard her bedroom door close, it felt safe enough to rush back to bed without her realising I’d even been awake. Unfortunately, my brain went into overdrive with all kinds of possible theories about what she was doing, who the mysterious ‘he’ might be and what money she was paying back. Could it be she was in some kind of trouble? That would explain why she was always so preoccupied all the time, but could it really have been going on since we were kids? As always, with my mother, it seemed there were always more questions than answers and thankfully, after over an hour of raising and subsequently dismissing countless ideas, my brain gave up and I fell asleep.
I woke up to the distant sound of the radio in the kitchen and the unmistakable sound of Cal thumping down the stairs in his work boots. I glanced at the clock and it was barely 6.00 a.m., I heard him call out to Uncle Jim, then the sound of two pairs of heavy footsteps walking down the lane. I wearily clambered out of bed and looked out the window, I could just see them turn the corner but I also saw Mum’s car was still outside – she obviously hadn’t left for work yet. Perhaps now would be the right time to ask about last night, there would just be the two of us, and as she was obviously softening towards Cal, it might be, she would even have a bit more time for me. I pulled on a sweater over my pyjamas and went down to the kitchen, she was at the table and seemed almost surprised to see me standing there, as if she’d forgotten me somehow,
“You’re up early,” she said simply, “Cal has already gone with Jim.”
I poured some orange juice and sat opposite her at the table,
“Yes, I know, I heard them leave,” I began, “I also heard you come back last night, is everything alright?”
As I spoke, I studied her face, looking for any kind of reaction to the question, but there was nothing more than the tiniest flicker of emotion in her eyes,
“Everything is fine, why do you ask?” she retorted, perhaps hoping to discover if I’d heard any of the conversation.
“I thought I heard voices, that’s all,” I replied nonchalantly, quickly adding, I hadn’t heard anything specific. Despite herself, it seemed there was a slight relaxation in her expression, perhaps even a trace of relief,
“That was just Joe from work, he gave me a lift back from my appointment last night,” she explained, “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
I shook my head and assured her I hadn’t really been disturbed, but I guessed she knew I was lying, if not entirely then certainly partly, so I avoided looking at her and focused on the juice. She sighed and stood up from the table, explaining it was time for her to leave for work,
“Are you going back to the city today?” she asked as she picked up her keys and carefully zipped her bag,
“I’m not sure, maybe later.”
“Fine, well, if you go, let Cal know, I won’t be back tonight and I want to make sure he locks up the house properly,” she snapped, as if my vague answer had caused her some kind of irritation. She then swept out of the front door and within only a matter of moments, I heard her car speed down the lane. After washing up my glass, I wandered back upstairs and paused by her bedroom door, was there any point in searching in there again? Clearly something was going on with her, but it seemed unlikely there would be any answers behind the door especially after the disappearance of the two boxes. As I walked back to my own room, I found myself becoming increasingly aware of the silence of the house, there didn’t seem to be any sound of anything. The more I focused, the more inexplicably anxious I became, so after quickly getting dressed, I half-ran down the stairs and switched on the radio. I didn’t know why, but it felt almost oppressive in the house, it got so bad, I knew I had to do something, so I threw on a coat and went outside, hoping the space and fresh air would ease this feeling. Before I really knew what I was doing, I was at the end of the lane and turning the corner by the high hedge. I stopped and leaned on the gate, Pepper was lazily munching grass and looked up when she felt my intrusion, her soft brown eyes somehow filled with understanding. She slowly plodded over to me, lifted her head over the gate and forced her velvety nose into my hands.
“I’m sorry girl, I don’t have anything for you,” I said quietly, “But thank you for coming to say hello.”
I stroked her soft mane, feeling the sheer power of the muscle in her wide neck, her eyes didn’t move from mine, there was a kind of peaceful wisdom in her face which was perhaps, in part, due to her great age.
“Do you know what’s going on with Mum?” I asked, her ears flicked and she dipped her head,
“If you know, you’re not telling, are you?” I smiled, as if to answer, she ambled away from me and returned to eating the wet grass under the tall tree in the corner of the field. As I walked back to the house, I realised the overwhelming panic had completely subsided even though I still had no idea why it had happened. As I reached the kitchen door, I heard Cal arguing on the phone and as I walked into the house, I was just in time to see him slamming it down.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, he glared up at me,
“This stupid fucking job! They want me to go in today and it’s supposed to be my day off! Is it my fault someone has phoned in sick? It’s a joke, I wish I could just quit.”
As he ranted, he stormed around the kitchen, backwards and forwards like a trapped animal, grabbing anything close to hand and hurling it to the floor.
“You need to
calm down,” I said, hoping to break through his rage and maybe get him to see some sense, but instead he turned on me,
“It’s fine for you, you like your job, mine is going nowhere!”
His whole body seemed to be shaking now, his eyes filled with unfettered anger and frustration, I knew that feeling, I had felt it myself so many times and in this very room, but it was self-destructive, I knew that too and so I gently persisted in trying to get him to sit down and talk peacefully. After several more minutes of practically incoherent ranting he finally slumped down on a chair, his eyes flooded with raw emotion,
“I can’t stand it, I know it’s good to have money, but it’s not enough sometimes.”
He looked at me, his whole face pleading for my understanding, I reached across and touched his outstretched hand.
“I get it, Cal, really I do, I spent a long time in a horrible burger place, working really early or late, dealing with every kind of fleabag you can imagine, so I do know what you mean.”
His hand tightened over mine,
“What am I going to do?” he asked, I thought for a moment and then remembered he’d told me about his new artwork.
“Show me what you’ve been doing,” I asked, he looked doubtfully at me and then reminded me what had happened at the gallery.
“I know all that,” I replied, “But show me your new stuff.”
He kicked off his boots and went upstairs, quickly returning with a large folder, stuffed with loose pieces of paper.
“It’s not all great,” he began, “But I like some of them.”
As I spread out the pictures on the table, it was immediately clear, he had moved on from his earlier work, there were no more fantasy creatures, just concentrated studies of different parts of the house interior and some really sensitive work of the fields and animals. There was no question, some were infinitely better than others, but the overall standard was a world apart from what he had brought to the gallery. As I could feel he was watching me, I started to talk about each picture in turn, what I liked and what I didn’t, unusually for Cal, he took the criticism as being productive and couldn’t help but show his pleasure at the compliments. When I had discussed every picture, I put three to one side and carefully put the remainder back in the folder.
“I’m going to take these back with me, if that’s okay, I want another opinion,” I explained, Cal frowned,
“Cyrus didn’t like anything before.”
“That’s not true, he just said you needed to work harder and you have, Cal,” I replied swiftly before he could raise any other objections, I picked them up and started towards the door.
“Where are you going?” Cal asked.
“I’m going back this afternoon, the sooner we find out what your chances are of selling something, the sooner we might get you out of that job,” I replied, despite my confident tone, it was obvious Cal was still doubtful.
“If we don’t try, we will never know,” I added, hoping I was convincing him to be a little more optimistic, Cal just shrugged,
“I guess it won’t hurt.”
After passing on Mum’s message about not coming home, I packed my bag and drove back to the city, I felt optimistic about Cal’s work, there was no question his style was far more developed and aside from anything else, if it was accepted, it might make up for what had happened before. As soon as I reached my place, I called Cyrus and asked him to come over, he seemed keen until I mentioned Cal’s work.
“Oh please darling, not again, I thought this was done,” he complained.
“I’m just asking you to look, that’s all,” I asked, “He’s not here this time so you can be brutally honest.”
I heard him sigh heavily,
“Alright, I’ll come over, but I can’t stay, I’m meeting David in a couple of hours, he wants to talk, God knows what about this time, hopefully no more nonsense about eyebrow threading.”
True to his word, he appeared at my door within the hour,
“So how was the engagement party?” he asked, “Did the folks back home jump the broomstick?”
I rolled my eyes,
“I have no idea what that even means, but no, it was just a really lovely evening.”
Cyrus smiled,
“I’m glad you had a good time, darling, you do look a little more rested and slightly less like a Walking Dead extra.”
I thanked him and complimented him in return, he beamed as he always did when someone said something flattering,
“OK, so you’ve said all the right things, so let’s get this over with, show me the pictures,” he said briskly, when he caught sight of my scowl at his remark, he sighed,
“I promise I’ll be fair.”
I spread them out on the coffee table and he studied each one in turn, I watched him closely, hoping to be able to gauge his reaction, but his face remained impassive and gave nothing away. When he had perused all three, he rested back on the sofa,
“There is no question he has improved considerably, but, at best, I could say they are reasonably good, I’m sorry darling.”
“Is there some way we could include one of them in the new artists exhibition?” I asked, “It would mean so much to Cal.”
Cyrus looked steadily at me before replying,
“I don’t doubt it would, but the gallery has a reputation to maintain, a standard, and these just aren’t there, I’m truly sorry but the answer has to be no.”
I felt sick, I wanted to argue with him, but I knew there was no point at all, his mind was made up and there would be no changing it.
“OK Cyrus, I understand, thank you for coming,” I replied politely, he stood up and looked down at me,
“Are we okay?” he asked, obviously concerned his decision might affect our friendship,
“Of course,” I replied, “We are absolutely fine, but you should go, David will be waiting.”
He smiled uncertainly, I knew under any other circumstances, he would stay until he was sure, but the clock was ticking and so it was with obvious reluctance, he left my place. Once alone, I looked again at Cal’s work, I knew I couldn’t call him with bad news, but what could I do?
“I’ll just have to find another way,” I resolved because disappointing him again just couldn’t happen, I wasn’t going to allow it – so with or without Cyrus- I would find the answer.
Chapter Nine
As I still had a few days off before I had to get back to work, I’d had time to work out a kind of plan, so when Cal called, I knew what I was going to do,
“So what did he say?” he asked nervously, I took a deep breath and said,
“He loved them, Cal, they’re going to be in the new artist exhibition, all three of them!”
I heard him gasp,
“No way, really? I can’t believe it, my pictures?”
It felt like my heart would burst with pure joy to hear him so happy, I sat back and just listened to him talk excitedly about someone possibly buying them, having his work hanging on their walls,
“It’s just so hard to even imagine!” he exclaimed for at least the third time since our conversation had begun.
“Well, it’s happening, so you’d better get used to the idea,” I replied, “Now I have to get them framed, so will you trust me to have it done properly?”
“Of course! I always trust you, you know that,” he replied firmly, despite the happiness, when he said the word ‘trust’, I felt a distinct pang of guilt, after all, I was lying to him. I’d known before we’d even spoken, I’d have to lie, but I’d somehow managed to reconcile my deceit with how good it would be for him. After all, somebody might buy his pictures, then it wouldn’t be so bad, the only lie would be that Cyrus had approved their inclusion. Once we had finished talking, I looked again at the pictures, I knew my main problem was going to sneak them into the exhibition without Cyrus realising until it was too late to take them down, but that was something for the future, for now, I was going to get them framed. I took them to a small comp
any on the other side of the city, knowing, Cyrus knew everyone in the area of the gallery, and if this deception was to work, any possibility of him finding out too soon had to be considered. It took me a while to find the place, but when I did, I was in for a shock, it was a tiny shop and the only framer was a small, old man with large glasses. When I placed the pictures on the glass-topped counter, he peered closely at them for several minutes, clicking his teeth,
“Not bad,” he rasped, “Not bad at all.”
“Can you frame them for me?” I asked, getting irrationally impatient with him.
“Of course I can, I’ve been in this business before you were even born,” he snapped, “Wait here.”
He shuffled into a back room and reappeared with a tape measure,
“I will just record the dimensions, so we can agree a price before I start working on them, I’m assuming you want them done quickly?”
His milky grey eyes squinting at me over the rims of his glasses,
“Yes, they’re for a…a gift,” I replied, thankful I’d just stopped myself from saying the word ‘exhibition’, after all, I had to be very careful. The man grinned, his teeth seemed almost too big for his mouth, but his smile unnerved me, I knew, at that moment, he was going to overcharge me, but it was for Cal, so it would be worth it.
“2,100,” he said, “That’s my price.”
I couldn’t help but step back in shock,
“That’s a lot more than I intended to pay,” I replied, “I was thinking more of about 900?”
The man shook his head,
“Then you take them somewhere else, that is my price.”
As he started to put the pictures back in the bag, my mind raced, if I didn’t let him do them, I’d have to find someone else and one look at this guy, convinced me, Cyrus wouldn’t know him, after all, that’s why I’d driven all the way out here. The plain fact was, I had to just pay the man, the pictures had to be framed, I was just fortunate, I’d been paid more owing to the gallery closure. When I agreed his price, the old man smiled triumphantly,