It was at the peculiar ritual of our dinner together that Angel told me that I was invited to the masked ball. I half expected that I would be one of her guests. I suppose it should have been an honor, but I had no desire to be there. Less than two years ago, and an invitation given to me like this and there would have been no one who could have stopped me from going. But not now, not with these marks of stupidity and recklessness on my face. If the old me met the new me, she would find someone who she would consider extremely boring. Maybe age was creeping up on me, for the life I used to live did not appeal to me anymore.
For the first time since Angel decided to go on this drastic diet, she ravished the prawn salad as if she had never eaten before. Unable to keep my eyes off her, Angel's self-analysis was proving to be correct, she never did anything by halves.
Poor J.J had a bad night with teething, it was late, and there was no one about to ask. Mrs. Pesker was in bed, and I knew knocking on Angel's door would not do any good. So, I picked him up and walked around the room singing to him quietly. I watched as his tear-stained eyes slowly closed as the pain gave into the need for sleep, poor little boy.
As I walked him about the room, I passed the window and looked out. It was a clear night, and the glow of the moon and the shattered stars spangling gave an eerie coloring to the world that by day looked normal. I could see two of the dogs silently trotting the grounds, alert to any sound. I was glad I was not out there. The world outside now didn’t look a safe place. Yet, we were safe inside I told myself, but from what, how can anyone guard themselves against their own imagination? What demons were Angel protecting herself from, but I knew as soon as I asked myself, she was protecting herself from Jacob Barba.
My protests about attending the masked ball were not heeded to. The fact I hadn’t anything to wear didn’t deter Angel. With her prepared solution she told me that she had plenty of dresses, and Annie she had heard had skills in dressmaking. I had the pick of anyone I wanted or rather the ones that she had selected for me to choose from.
Begrudgingly, after selecting one of those dresses I appalled. The ones which I had seen Angel wearing, over the top and so sickly sweet. And having tried on several of them, with Angel watching and supervising and mentioning to Annie who had taken my measurements that really there wasn't too much alteration needed as this could be sorted out with padding. Then I was able to return to see how J.J was. He was still sleeping, poor little man. When I looked in his crib, I monitored his breathing then I heard my cellphone ring.
Seeing the number coming up on the screen, I quickly answered it in a hushed voice.
‘Is this Miss Boreman?’ the familiar voice of Jeffrey Stanton asked.
‘Yes,’ came quickly my whispered reply. ‘Can you please not speak too loud,’ I was looking at J.J when I said this, ‘Because my friend might be listening.’
‘Yes, I remember your friend,’ and then he paused while I waited. ‘How was the funeral?’
I was about to say how I found it when the question came, how did he know? ‘What funeral, I told you that I missed my brother's.’ An attack of fear and confusion overtook me because, I did not know how he knew or, what was going on.
‘It's all right Mrs. Boreman, it was just a guess. I take it you are Mrs. Boreman?’
He either knew who I was or else, he was simply making potshot guesses. This was a game I was learning to play very quickly because there were no rules. I was going blindly into this game, but I did have my wits about me, and so I was going for self-defense. ‘I'm Miss Boreman, John's sister.’
‘Oh yes, of course, you are.’
Looking about me, I was unable to capitulate. Madly I was searching for good reasons to explain my identity away. He had to believe that I was John's sister otherwise I was lost. But I had nothing now in my arsenal to defend myself. ‘What makes you believe that I am John's wife and not his sister?’
‘It is evident you do not think very well of this profession but please credit me with some intelligence.’
I was paying great attention.
‘At first, I did believe you were John Boreman's sister. It was a shock to find out that he had a sister, but these things happen within families. You were convincing, and you impressed me with your confidence, yet, there were too many coincidences. Too much to swallow to make your disguise acceptable.’
He had a modulated voice which he used in a way suggesting he never allowed himself to lose control or give in to the capricious nature of an unruly temper. An unemotional voice.
‘I have never known a Vivian before and to find there were two, one who just happened to be his sister, and the other a woman he married. I think this was where the problem lay. If you had been an Emma or, Mary or some other common name, I might have been prepared to accept your story. And then, of course, I'm sorry to have to bring this up but the scars on your face. It could have been from cosmetic surgery, your answer to this was very plausible.’
I felt every chance I had was slipping away.
‘Mrs. Boreman, you see I made it my business to have you checked out when I informed her that Mr. Boreman had a sister. Instead, I checked out the previous Mrs. Boreman, she had been involved in a car crash, which caused bad facial disfigurement.’
I put a hand up to my face, the damage that the crash had caused was still there, my vanity had destined my fate.
‘So, is there anything I can say to make you believe that I am John Boreman's sister?’
‘Not really. I'm sorry I was the one who found your true identity out.’
I shrugged, everything I had achieved up until now seemed suddenly to be pointless.
‘Well, I am Miss Boreman, John's sister,’ I persisted just like a spoilt child.
‘Of course, you are.’
What was he saying? Was he being sarcastic, enjoying himself now that he had ousted me out? I could now see myself packing my bags to leave. And yet, just like John, I was now keeping to my bluff.
‘I can understand your suspicions and your belief that John did not have a sister, that was why I didn't want to mention that I too was involved in a car crash for, even to me this was too incredible. Which was why I had to invent something else up that involved damage to my face.’ I paused, feeling the excitement of a bluff. ‘But I am John's sister. It is one of those strange flukes in life that, John met and fell in love with a woman who looked just like me.’
I knew he was listening because, I heard his breath and that little extra intake of air, which suggested there was a possibility he could be wrong.
‘But don't you see, even if you are John's sister, and this is so daft, you still wouldn't be entitled to any inheritance because John didn't leave anything to a sister in his will.’
‘Yes, yes, I know.’ Had I won? ‘But the letter he wrote to me says that he wanted to leave me something in his will. Surely that stands for something.’ I was pleading, using everything I had to vindicate my claim. ‘I suppose, at the last moment his arm must have been twisted or something. I know John would not have abandoned me. And I know that if he had been alive now, his instructions in his will would have included me.’ I was wrecked, exhausted by the fight. ‘Does Angel know about me?’
‘So, you know about Angel?’
Oh dear, another blunder. ‘John did write to me about a woman he was thinking of marrying called Angel. But I doubt that is her proper name.’
‘Well, if you are anything, without a doubt, you are tenacious. And another thing, I don't understand why you didn’t approach Angel Boreman about your claim?’
‘Perhaps I should have but judging from the letters John wrote to me I figured she wouldn't give me anything away. I might have estimated her wrongly but that's the feeling I got.’ I was still waiting for what else he had to say, while I was desperately trying not to give in to the temptation of depression, the loser in life. And then that query came into my mind. ‘Why hasn't John's will not been made public yet?’
‘Because, Miss Boreman, al
though the probate office gives time for the bereaved to round up the business of the deceased, someone with substantial wealth, like your late brother, takes more time.’
This time, I knew Jeffrey Stanton was not telling the complete truth. If John had left everything to Angel, I was beginning to suspect he must have done, the delay still didn't make any sense. Picking at the ridges of my scars, I wished I hadn’t been so stupid and visited our old house. What an idiot I had been.
‘Leave this with me, Miss Boreman. I accept what you say to some extent since your argument is very persuasive. As you know, my allegiance is to Mrs. Angel Boreman.’
All lies. How I wish I could shout out and tell him she’s not Mrs. Boreman, I am. but I contained these thoughts to the fury of my mind, as anything was better than nothing.
‘I will have a word with her. I'm sure she is amenable to some arrangements. But it does depend on her generosity.’
‘Of course, yes, I understand and thank you.’ The bile was now in my mouth and I was forced to swallow it. Quite frankly, John would have been nothing without me.
26
Tomorrow was to be the evening of the masked ball, I was in an ill mood from yesterday because I had to grovel for a handout. Totally unfair. Surely there was something in the law that could readdress this state of injustice.
And while I was sulking and feeling the heavyweight of injustice, I realized that no one had bothered about J.J and what he was to have for dinner this evening. Mrs. Pesker concerned herself with the banquet for tomorrow evening while Angel had commandeered Annie to work on her dress. I sighed and looking into the larder, and discovered there was a cooked chicken. This is what he will have. Minced chicken with some vegetables.
Hearing the television switched on, Mr. Pesker had become an avid follower of the news, especially regarding the late Judge Angus Stove Madwort. He had his own views about the judge's murder.
‘You don't fool around with another woman. When you marry, she should be everything to you, your partner in every way, your best friend and helpmate. You should share everything together, not only the good times but also the bad. But I tell you what, I bet the judge's wife knew he was carrying on with someone. I don't understand her,’ he alluded to the person above. ‘I mean, what was she doing carrying on with a married man and a judge like that? During the times I spoke to him, he didn't come across as a stupid man. But as soon as he saw her, he was like melted butter.’ And then he stopped because the news had moved on to sightings of the escaped criminal, Jacob Barba.
People had seen a man fitting the police’s description in Rockingham County. At that, Mrs. Pesker looked up.
‘That's where we are,’ said Mrs. Pesker stunned.
‘This county is a very big place,’ said Mr. Pesker. ‘He could be anywhere. These sightings the police get are not always reliable.’
And then the newsreader mentioned about Judge Stove Madwort and his involvement with Jacob Barba. There were reasons to suspect that he had tampered with the evidence. Then, the news was passed on to a reporter, who was attempting to interview one of the late judge's fraternity at his chambers, but everyone was refusing to make any comments. It was passed back to the studio for the latest findings on the bank clerk, Mr. Douglas.
Forensics found that Mr. Douglas had received a bullet wound to his arm, and a fatal shot to his temple. According to eyewitness’ reports at the time and by the bank’s video footage, there was some discrepancy between the wound inflicted to the head and the one to the victim's arm.
The pathologist, who had performed the autopsy on the late Mr. Douglas, was known to be in debt as a result of his lifestyle. According to a close unidentified friend, these debts disappeared not long after the funeral of Mr. Douglas.
The police were now concerned there has been an impeachment of justice and have requested that the judicial system conducts an inquiry. The news coming into the public arena has sent a ripple of shock through the whole legal system.
‘It doesn't look good,’ said Mr. Pesker shaking his head. ‘I wouldn't have thought that about the Judge but when you start breaking one rule, other rules can get broken just as easily. I can't help but feel sorry for him for his decision to corrupt the justice system.’
‘So, who is this Jacob Barba,’ asked Mrs. Pesker, sitting at the kitchen table.
I looked up, his name was pertinent to me, as it was to Angel.
‘By the looks of it, a victim of a corrupt legal system,’ he shook his head in disbelief. ‘I still can't get over the judge. I never would have thought that about him. Sometimes, I thought him an idiot with the way he was besotted over Mrs. Boreman. It was like he was addicted to her, but I suppose, he's paid the ultimate price now.’
When the news went off, I left the kitchen with J. J’s dinner. The more I heard about Jacob Barba and now the judge, I realized there was a big connection between the judge and Jacob Barba. And dare I think it, it had to be Angel.
Wasn’t it convenient to have a judge to frame an ex-boyfriend after the bank robbery? Convenient because she would be able to keep all the money. Angel was proving to be a very complicated and dangerous person.
As I thought this, I was thinking of John. Perhaps Jacob Barba's likeness had been her attraction to John. From a little distance, they could have been mistaken as twins. Though that’s where the similarity stopped.
That night, with the light low I walked about J. J’s bedroom holding him in my arms singing him a lullaby to entice the cradle of sleep. As I passed by the window, I looked out over the darkened landscape. In a week it was going to be Christmas, I had only remembered this because of the decorated tree in the hall.
I began thinking about the latest news. No wonder Angel was afraid now that Jacob Barba was in the county; it was just a matter of time before he got here to claim her as his prize. The crush, I had was now beginning to vaporize just like the breathed air on a cold night. By the light of the candelabra sky, I could distinguish two of the dogs patrolling the area. It made me shudder now knowing what their task was.
A scream, yelping of pain, the sound of dogs coming too close for someone. Is there anything more terrible than the sound of animals calling out in pain in the night? And then there were torch lights, I saw two figures running towards the sound of growling, yelping whimpering dogs. Had these dogs encountered their victim, teeth and fangs tearing flesh from bone? And then…
27
There had been two deaths in the night, two dogs had fought each other to their deaths. An Alsatian and a Rottweiler; Mr. Pesker was the one giving this news. Their deaths were put down with the understanding that both dogs had seen a rabbit and were prepared to kill each other for it.
A masked ball or a farce, whatever this evening was all about, I didn’t know. But I was already dreading what was to come next from up Angel's sleeve. I couldn’t conceive that she was taking on this venture for pleasure as everything she did had a motive and reason.
What were her real designs for taking me on to look after her son? Was it simply a whim? She knew I was short of cash. How much more do you need to know about someone when they are desperate? And if I was her and with enough money, perhaps I too would have taken someone like me on just to see how I could play with her. That is if I was bored like Angel.
I was not looking forward at all to this masked ball tonight.
But the day passed by as it usually does and winter, I was beginning to find, is much colder in the countryside. There had been many a morning with a frost so heavy, that quite often it didn't clear away at all through the shortened day.
How does anyone deal with fear? The house was staked out and waiting with an atmosphere of tension which hurt, I was aching from its pressure. And why was I so afraid? It was as if a tidal wave of events had been kept back and now the dam was about to discharge. I was being heralded by the rallying cry ready for battle and when I was on the field and fighting, there was nothing else to think about, but to do. To kill or be killed, and
only then would come the conclusion to this imposing sentence. If I was to die now, let it be over with, let this agony of waiting end. With my death… But whatever was I thinking of? I wanted to live – to be reborn and live, there was still too much life and energy in me.
Perhaps I was just tired, for the last week I hadn't been sleeping well. J.J had been teething, I had been walking his bedroom, trying to get him back to sleep. But even when he fell asleep, I kept walking with him about the room, feeling unable to return to my own bedroom. It was what was happening outside which consumed my mind. Seeing the guard dogs, confidently patrolling the area, their heads alert, their senses sharp and knowing how keen they were ready and waiting for a kill.
And I knew she had prepared this for him, for the man who loved her to obsession. Angel knew that Jacob Barba was coming for her.
Haunted by my imagination, seeing him in my thoughts struggling over the boundaries to make his way to her, to the woman he could not bear to be without. And then he would meet the dogs. They would sniff him out and down him and tear him raw until his blood pumped out, to stain the frozen ground with its empty vials of hope. Once he had found her, what then? Now bloodied and wrecked from hiding, would she then hand him over to the police? It was a certain possibility she would.
When was this masked ball going to start? A question I had put to Angel, she was proving herself to be very vague on this subject, except to smile and say when her guests arrived which could be anytime now or, even later tonight. But we should be ready just in case.
Mrs. Pesker had created in such a brief time, a very good feast. She had been allowed to order anything she needed which meant she had done just that. She had been studying the recipe books with dishes from the past. There were plates of whole fresh salmon, game, and pies of every fancy galore. A party for feasting awaited on the tables.
There were more sightings of Jacob Barba, he was on the move and was still in the area. I must admit I was alarmed. It was almost as if a rabid dog had been spotted and was making its way in my direction.
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