Tales of Retribution

by Fiona J Roberts

  “What are you doing on Sunday?” Anna asked.

  “Nothing planned.”

  “Okay, I’ll come over and we can make a start of sorting it out.”

  “I honestly don’t know what I would do without you.”

  Before the job was tackled, Anna offered some advice. Be ruthless. You don’t need to keep things to remember your parents. The things in the boxes are only objects. These items have not been missed and should, therefore, be easy to part with.

  Opening a box with that message in her mind, Beth found that she could give up most of the things that had been packed away: her parents’ clothes; some of her clothes from that time; ornaments, plates, cutlery and kitchen items; glasses and mugs, many pairs of shoes. None of it was worth keeping.

  The furniture and appliances from the house must have been disposed of at the time. Everything else was stuffed into boxes which had ended up in the garage. Beth lingered over some of her old toys and favourite books. She would find a place for them in her current home.

  Removing the clutter of her dramatic past helped Beth move forward. Nana’s kitsch decor was being replaced with clean lines and bolder colours. A new wardrobe of clothes was defining who she was. So much had been cast aside, but some old things still gave her comfort. No one would be able to wrest her Tales of Retribution DVDs away from her.

  Chapter 34

  When Beth went to college on Monday morning, she felt like a model. Okay, she wasn’t tall or thin, but with her jeans, T-shirt and leather jacket, she looked so much better than before. Ankle boots with a heel had given her more height. The clothes gave her confidence. People were looking at her for the right reason, and she liked it.

  Any interaction with her fellow pupils had been limited to talk about the course. Sharing her life story was not something Beth wanted to do. Shock, then sympathy, would play out on the person’s face and they would view her in a different way. She didn’t want to be “the girl who”. That’s the girl whose father murdered her mother. That’s the girl whose grandmother died.

  A new approach was needed to make friends. Beth decided that she would refer to tragedy in the family, but no specifics. She would refuse to talk about it, if pressed, because it was in the past and that was where it should stay. An acknowledgement of what had happened, an air of mystery maybe, and a way of stopping further enquiry.

  That technique would be used on acquaintances. If she ever had a real friend, or even a boyfriend, then they would have to know more about her. Giving someone her potted history in one go might be too much. A way of talking about the murder and Nana’s death which softened the edges of the harsh truth would have to be practised.

  Another quiet girl in her class had smiled at her a few times. They had said hello, goodbye, and even done that thing where they mentioned the weather. Two months into her time at college, she was about to attempt to make a friend. Beth smiled at the girl called Lucy. A tentative smile was returned.

  “Hi, I’m Beth.”

  “Lucy.”

  “How are you liking the course?”

  “It’s great.”

  Lucy looked intently at Beth. Her mouth opened and shut a few times. No more words came out. Beth could see willingness to chat, but trouble actually doing so. It was up to her.

  “I’m enjoying it. Sometimes it would be good to talk to someone about the lessons. You know, what the tutor meant exactly or where to find information. If there are things that you need to know we could talk about them.”

  “Oh, yes. That would be great.” Lucy beamed and then let out a sigh of relief after her enthusiastic reply.

  “Do you live locally?” Beth asked.

  “About fifteen miles away. I have to get two buses to get here.”

  “I’m lucky, it’s only a fifteen-minute walk for me.”

  “I’m thinking of learning to drive, but it’s so expensive.”

  “I’ve never thought about it. I live in an area where it’s easy to get to the shops or college and I’ve never needed to learn. That is really something that I should look into.”

  Beth had wondered what to do with Nana’s car, which was sitting on the driveway. Selling it had been her first idea, but if she could learn to drive it that was better. Obvious answers often evaded her. Nana had treated her like a young child right up to the end. Beth barely had to think for herself, but she was practically an adult now and she had to start acting like one.

  A new adventure. Beth booked driving lessons. The makeover of her wardrobe had been a catalyst, and when the childish clothes had been thrown out, her attitude had altered too. A friend, a car, her own house and all that went with that, had made her grow up. It was a bit of a shock to the system, but it was also positive.

  Beth and Lucy became good friends. They had lunch together, went to the library together, gossiped and chatted. Beth’s tragic life story was revealed to her new friend in bite-size pieces. It was all too much to be delivered in one conversation. Lucy had never asked for details, but their friendship, somehow, demanded this honesty. Lucy praised her for how well she had coped with all that had been thrown at her.

  The last important detail that Beth revealed was her addiction to Tales of Retribution. Watching it as a child and the importance of getting justice for her mother were all tied up in her love of the masked detective. Lucy understood.

  “I read a lot of those graphic novels. Glorified comic books, you could say. I love them,” Lucy said.

  “I’ve never seen any.” Beth was fascinated, and about to get an education in the genre.

  “I’ve got one in my bag. Here you go. Have a look at it.”

  “It’s all about superheroes.”

  “This one is. Some are sci-fi or fantasy. Anything out of this world, really. I like that they take you to another place. I can’t draw, and I haven’t got the imagination to create this type of thing. I did want to be involved in writing, though. That’s why I ended up on this course. I have lots more at home. I could lend them to you, if you like. I’ve even got a couple which feature Retribution.”

  “There are graphic novels about Retribution?”

  “Yes. Sometimes the television programmes are inspired by the books and sometimes the other way around. I’m not sure which came first with Tales of Retribution. You could look it up on the internet.”

  “I’ll do that. How fascinating. Thanks, Lucy.”

  Chapter 35

  A comfortable sun lounger, drink in hand, near to a refreshing swimming pool: this was the life. Tim was on the island of Rhodes with Caroline, at a top class hotel. The only problem he had was trying not to put on too much weight. The food was delicious, plentiful and available all day.

  Three days into the holiday, he was already deeply tanned. Caroline sat next to him reading, a large hat shielding her face from the sun. Tim watched her until she became aware of his stare and looked up.

  “What are you looking at, Hugh?” she said with a grin.

  “You, and thinking what a lucky man I am. Did you want to go and get some lunch in a minute?”

  “I’m not very hungry, but I’m sure you are. Let me get to the end of this chapter and then we’ll go to the restaurant.”

  Tim couldn’t help imagining what a similar holiday would have been like with Alison. Too self-conscious to reveal her body, his deceased wife would have sat by the pool fully dressed. Meals – well, they would be a nightmare, as he enjoyed his food and she picked at a salad. And if the kid was there as well…

  For a moment, Tim could picture Beth jumping into the pool with armbands on. He would be teaching her to swim. God, how old would she be now? Squirming in his seat, Tim saw Caroline give him a curious look. It was thoughts of his daughter which gave him the most discomfort. He wasn’t too worried about the murder.

  All through lunch, Tim was a little distracted. He made the excuse that he was concerned about how he was going to lose weight once they were back home. Caroline told him not to worry and to eat what he lik
ed. The cheesecake did look really good. He ate his own and most of his girlfriend’s as well.

  The thoughts about Beth had become more frequent over time, not less. As Tim became more settled and happier, he wondered about the life he had left behind. He had a daughter, and it was unlikely that he would have more children. What had happened to her after he left? What did she look like now?

  Here he was on an idyllic holiday, and Tim found Beth intruding on his thoughts. Maybe it was the not knowing that was fuelling his angst. When they got home, he would see what he could find out about Elizabeth Travers. Having a plan of action removed his anxiety and he got back to relaxing on his vacation.

  As they had prepared for the trip, Caroline and Tim had looked at places of interest to visit. On the holiday, they barely ventured out of the hotel complex. Caroline decided that the excursions were not what she wanted. The pool, the sun and the joy of each other’s company were far more important.

  They had made it into the town one afternoon, and Caroline had insisted on buying an expensive watch for Tim. He had been reluctant to accept such a beautiful and pricey gift, but had been persuaded to do so. Tim had happily taken presents from other women, but he didn’t care about them. His moral and ethical side had been ignited by his relationship with Caroline.

  At the end of their idyllic week they were both a little sad, as they headed back to the airport to fly home. Tim was suitably refreshed after the break, but Caroline looked tired. He asked her several times on the way home whether she was okay, and she insisted that she was. Arriving at their home, Caroline went straight to bed. Travel was tiring, Tim noted.

  A couple of days to get themselves sorted, and then it was back to work. Tim headed for the port and Caroline would go to the charity’s office. She only worked three days a week so it seemed ridiculous to take a day off sick, but she was still tired and a little out of sorts. She could manage a few hours at least.

  By the end of their first week back from holiday, it was clear that Caroline was not well. Tired and looking thinner, she shrugged off suggestions that she should visit the doctor. Colleagues and Tim had urged her to see what was wrong. Caroline was putting off making an appointment because she knew what they would say. The cancer was back.

  Chapter 36

  Sitting in the consulting room, Tim held Caroline’s hand as the news was delivered. Tests had been carried out over the previous week and the results were now due. Tim had done everything he could to reassure Caroline that she would be fine, but she was not convinced. Not panicking, upset or angry, she was ready for the bad news.

  When the consultant confirmed that her cancer had returned, it came as no surprise. The news still made her cry, though. The first time she had received this news she had been alone and her husband was hardly supportive. This time Tim was at her side, and that made it seem not quite so bad.

  The diagnosis, the treatment, the prognosis – Caroline had heard it all before. Was it her imagination, or did the oncologist look less positive than last time? It was all new to Tim and he listened carefully and asked lots of questions. Trying to be impassive, not letting his fears and sadness inhabit his face, was hard.

  It was only when they walked back into their home that he crumbled. Tim kept shaking his head, as if denial would take the bad news away. He poured them both a stiff drink and then, after taking a deep breath, he trusted his voice to speak.

  “You’ve been through this before, I haven’t. I want to do whatever I can to help, but I don’t know what that is. You’ve got enough to cope with, but I need you to take me on this journey with you. Tell me how you are? Tell me what you want? Explain stuff to me. I’m a quick learner, so within no time you can just take care of you and I’ll do the rest.”

  Tears were streaming down Caroline’s face. Tim was going to look after her. He was going to be there. Enduring the illness would be different this time, with someone there to talk to, to listen and to care. Wiping away the tears, Caroline produced a smile and thanked Tim. He had no intention of leaving just because times were tough. He was ready for whatever was thrown at them.

  The word “mastectomy” had been used and that was going to happen fairly quickly. Apparently, the previous time Caroline had been afflicted a lump had been removed. This time it would be the whole breast. Then the chemotherapy would begin. Sickness, hair loss and tiredness would accompany that.

  Frightened about his reaction to seeing her at her lowest ebb, Caroline told him what was to come.

  “I’ll lose my hair. I won’t be able to go out and do things, it makes you tired. I’m bound to lose weight because the chemo makes you feel sick. It is not going to be pretty.”

  “I’m not worried about any of that. You’re my partner, and it’s my job to take care of you and help you recover. A bump in the road, and then we can carry on where we left off. I’m not going anywhere. With hair or bald, you’re stuck with me.” His cheeky smile didn’t mask his anxiety.

  Tim listened as Caroline phoned her son and gave him the news. He was going to visit in a few weeks, after she had undergone the surgery, she said. He was glad that Ryan was coming. It would cheer Caroline up having him around, if only for a few days.

  The days passed in a blur of preparations. Caroline headed out to run errands and then made copious notes of instructions for Tim. How to turn off the water supply, where the fuse box was, the phone numbers for the plumber, electrician, the hospital – every detail, from essential to vaguely useful, was included.

  Tim carried on working, he had little choice in that. He took time off on the day that Caroline was admitted to hospital, though. He couldn’t miss that. Carrying her bag, he chatted with the nurses and got her settled. Cheery, laughing and smiling to hide the worry inside. Tears were wiped away as he made his way back home.

  “Hi Hugh, it’s Ryan.” Tim had answered the phone in Caroline’s house.

  “Hi Ryan. Your mum is in hospital. I took her in today and she has the op tomorrow.”

  “Yes, I know. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to say thank you for looking after her. My dad was useless last time. You’ve done more for her in the last few weeks than he did in about a year. I’m so glad you’re around.”

  “Thanks. I never even thought twice about it. I’m here for whatever she needs.”

  And that was the truth. Saying it out loud gave Tim a chance to consider his reaction to Caroline’s illness. It was something bad that had happened. Why should that change how he felt about Caroline? He had not made the vow, but “in sickness and in health” still applied to him.

  Chapter 37

  Searching for Retribution on the internet had opened a whole new world for Beth. Having used computers at the school and in college libraries, she was familiar with them, but had been focused on homework. The newly acquired laptop was being used for much more exciting things.

  There were fan clubs and forums, and Beth looked at them all. Then she discovered comic cons. There were conventions that one could attend, often dressed as a favourite character, where other like-minded people could be found. An event had come to her attention and she was desperate to go.

  “I’ve looked at the details and, if you like, I can get the tickets on my bank card,” Beth explained to Lucy.

  “Yes, definitely. I’ve wanted to go to one of these for ages. It’s not far away and now that you are driving, well, it makes it pretty straightforward.”

  “The only bad thing is that we have to wait for a couple of months before we can go.”

  “More time for planning. Are you going to dress up?”

  Beth was a huge fan of Retribution, but turning up dressed in a mac and a mask was not the look she was going for. Looking glamorous was her aim, and a shopping trip as well as a visit to the hairdressers would be necessary.

  “Er, no. I like Retribution, but I don’t want to look like him. I want to look nice.”

  “You mean attractive to the opposite sex.”

  “Yes. I could meet som
eone who would appreciate my love of Retribution. Can you imagine any of the guys at college understanding my obsession? No. Start to talk about an old television programme that you watch several times a week and they would run a mile.”

  “So, you’re going to be looking for someone dressed as Retribution?”

  “Maybe. At least, someone who’s focusing on Retribution stands and displays. What are you going to wear?”

  “I don’t know, but I’d better make an effort or I’ll look like the plain friend.”

  “Never.”

  Lucy was small and pretty. Dark brown hair and green eyes. Beth was taller than her and larger framed, too. The mousey brown hair had been streaked with blond and looked a lot better as a result.

  Looking in the mirror didn’t displease Beth, but she could definitely look better. Nice clothes and a bit of make-up were as far as she would go. The starving and fretting practised by her mother and grandmother were not for her. Watching them worry and fuss had made her determined not to repeat their mistakes.

  Anna’s advice about getting on with life had been fully embraced. Beth was free to do whatever she wanted. Not being the type to go mad with drink and drugs, her biggest indulgence was buying clothes. She had more than one pair of jeans now. Neatly folded in the wardrobe were a variety of pairs: blue, white, black, three-quarter length and shorts.

  For the convention, Beth selected new blue jeans, a plain white T-shirt and her favourite pale blue leather jacket. There were highlights in her hair and her make-up was subtle. Mascara, a flick of blusher and a rose-pink lipstick. An inspection in the full-length mirror and she was ready to go.

  Lucy was stood on the pavement outside her house when Beth arrived. Practically hopping from foot to foot, the car had barely stopped and she was tugging at the door to get in. The day had finally come and they were off to the comic con.