by Janet Preece
On hearing the doorbell ring, Julie knew it was him back from work, but on the odd occasion she didn’t rush straight down to greet him. Sometimes, she stayed locked away listening to the music as it worked its magic, pushing her towards an almost hypnotic state, where her thoughts were almost tactile, almost. If only she could pluck a few from her uncooperative memory. Dan knew not to disturb her, not to interrupt the flow. She listened vaguely as his keys jingled on the hook, his heavy footsteps making their way into the living room and beyond, greeting Jack in the kitchen. Normally, it put her mind at ease – she could relax and continue, knowing it wasn’t an intruder – but tonight, something was different. She felt strangely irritated, annoyed as she listened to the usual routine, it grated on her, irrationally frustrating.
A memory sprang to mind – shouting at the kids. She could visualise them: moody, arguing, could hear her own voice screeching. She closed her eyes to focus, could hear the bell ringing, her voice bellowing again, they hadn’t taken their keys out of their schoolbags. Petty. Was that it? She could hear their stomping shoes in the hallway, walking dirt through the house unnecessarily, an empty shoe rack waiting lonely in the porch. Why had those things wound her up so much?
Her breath came in short gasps, cheeks hot with anger, so much hatred raging through her body that it shocked her. She snapped her eyes open feeling uncomfortable with the way her body had responded towards such innocence – a hatred so familiar it sickened her. It was an unpleasant sensation but still, one step closer to remembering. Perhaps she had suffered a nervous breakdown? That would explain everything away, if she’d gone out of her mind she might well have up and left the family – or perhaps Dan had kicked her out when she lost control? He was vague when she tried to broach the subject, still treating her like a fragile coma victim just released, but she’d changed. She was ready to hear his secrets and take responsibility for her actions. How can I put things right if he continues to protect me? Her reflection in the mirror was so drab, defeatist and she was no longer willing to put up with it.
Things need to change.
She slid open Dan’s wardrobe and reached inside.
◆ ◆ ◆
‘Urgh, Dad, have you seen this? It’s sick!’
Dan looked over to see William, head in the newspaper, devouring an article. Well, if it gets him reading, he thought, surprised to see him off the PlayStation.
‘I’m hoping you have some engrossing story to tell me that doesn’t involve my fantasy football team suffering,’ he joked, jovially. ‘Another player having a horrific limb break or some crisis or other would ruin me… William, are you listening to me?’
‘Sorry Dad,’ he responded. ‘I was miles away! This is disgusting, you should see this! It’s proper horrific. There’s a woman in the paper who’s had her face eaten off by giant rats! There’s a picture and everything!’
‘Don’t talk such rubbish!’ Dan reprimanded as he walked over, relived Adama Traoré was still in the game. ‘That’s not a rat, unless it’s been photoshopped. It looks more like a mole or some weird hybrid otter thing!’
‘Honestly, Dad, it’s a rat. Check out this story!’
He started to read it aloud...
“GIANT KILLER RATS: Woman found EATEN ALIVE by monster rats who chewed off her face as she slept. It looks like she died a painful death after becoming trapped in a storage unit she rented earlier this year. Excavators of the derelict site found the remains of the woman on a blood-stained floor. Reportedly, her tongue, eyes and fingers had all been devoured. The empty storage unit had no supplies for the woman, who is thought to have starved to the point of paralysis before the hungry animals made their attack.
‘When asked to comment on the incident, site manager Mr. Steven Morgan said: “Please be assured, there is no risk to local people as the rat infestation has been contained within the cordoned-off area, ready for demolition. Historically there have been lots of rats in the area as the storage site was built on top of an old council dump, but we are knowingly vigilant in protecting the operational units from unwanted vermin. Unfortunately, the area where the body was found was closed to public use some years ago and hence somewhat overlooked and neglected while waiting for demolition. Investigations are ongoing to work out how the deceased gained access to the unit. Safe Storage will remain open to its loyal customers. Stay safe with Safe Storage!”
William snorted with laughter, then he repeated in a high- pitched ridiculous impersonation – ‘Stay safe with Safe Storage, stay safe with Safe Storage. How can he say that? Listen to this Dad, the police aren’t bothering investigating! Shame, that would have been juicy.’
He read on, ignoring his dad’s silence.
‘The police are not treating this incident as suspicious. DC Gwyther commented: “So far, we have been unable to identify the deceased, and enquiries are ongoing. We were able to retrieve some items of jewellery. If you recognise them, please come forward.”
‘If you have any information on this tragic accident that might help to identify the deceased, please contact DC Gwyther on 0208 287 4647.’
Dan stood dry-mouthed. ‘This can’t be real. Seriously, what paper is this? How can they make up stories like that? It’s like April Fools, but it’s only March. Disgusting. The press should be made to answer for their actions – scaremongering, sensationalism…’
‘Can we go down there and check it out?’ Jack blurted out, having miraculously appeared from the kitchen, where he’d been listening in on the horror story.
‘No, you bloody well can’t! You are sick in the head, Jack. If that is real, then think of the poor woman’s family. What’s the point of putting pictures of jewellery in the papers as if someone would recognise that lot?’ He glanced over and stood motionless, staring, feet rooted to the spot. ‘What the…?’
‘What’s up, Dad? Rat got your tongue?’
‘William, that is just so bad,’ Jack chuckled, giving his brother a shove.
Dan’s face turned to ash as he stared at the jade pendant. He turned the page to look at the other items of jewellery but remained silent.
‘Oh, now you’re interested, Dad! Proper getting into the story, are you? Well, don’t throw it out when you’re done – I want to keep it. I’m thinking it would make for a good school project. Modern Day Plague or something along those lines. It’s just a shame it didn’t happen on the school grounds. I mean, can you imagine? They would have to close the school! Throw a few teachers in to feed the rats too – it’s a win-win. Some of them would benefit from having their faces rearranged!’
‘Shut up, just shut up!’ Dan broke the silence, glaring at William, his face like thunder as he closed the paper.
‘Okay, chill, Dad, they’re not coming here!’
‘I don’t want that article on your wall or anywhere your mother might see it. Don’t you think she’s been through enough without seeing this horror?’
‘Fine, fine, fine,’ William said, stomping off upstairs, bedroom door slamming to mark his departure. Jack, sensing the animosity, had slinked off, back to the kitchen, to continue with his culinary delights – a role he had embraced since his mother’s abandonment. He peered back at his dad, doubled over the closed newspaper, slumped in the dining chair, a shell of his former domineering self.
◆ ◆ ◆
DAN
Dan was alone. Detached, unable to process what might be. Icicles prickled his skin as he opened the newspaper once more and looked at the article, unwilling to entertain the notion of that jade necklace... He bit on his lip to contain the scream that threatened to escape his body. The boys were gone – they’d left him at the table at some point. When, he couldn’t recall, but he presumed it was after his outburst, them misunderstanding his response. He focused on the images as he turned the pages: the jewellery, the daisy diamond earrings – so expensive, so intricate, so unique – an amber centre to eac
h, with a swirl of red running through the leaf that clasped the sparkling jewels in their diamond daisy petals.
‘The yellow represents our sunrise, the dawn of our love; the white, the purity of our love; and the green…’ He’d been lost for words. What could the green be? ‘The green leaf, the beginning of our lives together, a plant ready to grow and be nurtured. You are the oxygen I breathe.’
He could hear himself speaking the words, and her joking reply, so full of love. ‘Oh, Dan, that is truly horrific! You are so corny!’
His Rachel.
She’d put her arms around him and hugged him close as they both laughed at his attempt at romance. If he wasn’t married already, that would have been the moment he proposed. He’d been trying to declare his love to her, had spent over a year designing those earrings on a crazy-expensive jewellery site, and her response: she’d teased him – but in a good way, and they’d been her favourite ever since. She never took those earrings out.
He looked back at the printed pictures. There was no question in his mind as he ran to the bathroom and retched into the toilet bowl, cramps shuddering through his stomach, his chest tightening as he gripped the porcelain, struggling to breathe. It couldn’t be her. He leaned his elbows on the urine-stained toilet, head in hands, blinking through tears as they burnt his eyes.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
JULIE
Julie’s mood picked up as she flicked the radio over to some Eighties classics. She assumed they were her favourites as she found herself singing along, unfamiliar with the lyrics yet somehow conjuring them up from the depths of her memory. As the song finished, she was surprised to hear the hourly news being introduced. It’s really late, must get a move on. She couldn’t resist picking up her mobile for a quick surf while the news headlines continued.
God, this rat story is everywhere. She wondered if it was real or more likely a dramatization created to go viral on social media. Clear up your rubbish, or you encourage vermin. Remember to always recycle, recycle, recycle. Her Facebook immediately picked up on her browser history and started to share adverts for pest control, cleaning companies and her favourite: a photograph of a grinning man holding up a giant rat by its tail nearly the same size as him. Nice.
Apparently, jewellery was the only thing on the scene to identify the body. Julie couldn’t help but wonder if there was ever a body there to start with, and most importantly, why the people who’d found the jewellery hadn’t just kept it for themselves? It was reportedly quite valuable, and if it hadn’t been, why would it be in a safe storage unit in the first place? Oh, yes, the woman was wearing it. So, what was she doing there? Why wasn’t it considered suspicious? She was getting confused trying to make sense of it all.
‘Dinner’s ready!’ Jack hollered up the stairs. ‘Mum! William! Tommy! I’m dishing up now!’
Damn, she mumbled, cursing her mobile for once again dragging her into the time-warp abyss that was social media. She opened Dan’s wardrobe and grabbed the beautiful green dress, burying her head into its soft material and breathing in the lingering perfume that clung to the fabric. The scent – not altogether unpleasant but not something she found herself warming to – yet the perfume sat on her dressing table.
She had visions of a fancy, chandelier-clad house, floor-to-ceiling old-style, stained-glass windows; exquisitely beautiful, a stately home? A flash-back. She carefully lowered the dress over her head, let it fall onto her naked flesh, the silk and luxurious fabric hanging fragile upon her slender frame. Something, she couldn’t quite grasp it, a memory teetered on the edge, hanging at the peripheries of her vision like the magic-eye paintings that baffled her so much; just out of reach. It wouldn’t be long before she remembered, she thought, walking down the stairs to dinner.
◆ ◆ ◆
‘Wow, Mum, you look gorgeous!’ Jack said, carrying through a glass casserole dish containing layers of yellow, orange and beige.
‘Thanks, darling.’ She blushed, enjoying the compliment, unaware of the rarity of the occasion.
William looked up from the table, gaping. ‘Where did you get that from? It looks designer. Michael Kors? Not like your usual stuff.’
Julie smiled back. Was it healthy for a sixteen-year-old boy to know so much about women’s clothing? Had she missed something?
‘The girls at school have Michael Kors bags. And Gucci, Bottega, Stella McCartney…’
‘That’s crazy! They’re so expensive! For school? They must be fakes.’
‘They’re real, Mum, I’m telling you. It’s like, the boys spend out on trainers, and the girls on bags.’
‘Madness. Well, they’re very lucky.’ And stupid, she thought, wondering at the absurdity of kids, the status symbols they aspired to. So shallow. How can something designer, a mere label, make them feel better about themselves? But as she walked, the swish of the material, the compliments she’d received, she understood. Teenagers, desperate for the approval of their friends, saving all their money for that one item – that one special something. Was that why Dan had bought her the dress, because he wanted her to feel special? Because he thought she was special? It was so different to the rest of her wardrobe though, perhaps he was trying to change her? Make her into a different person? Julie felt uncomfortable – was he controlling her? But he hadn’t actually given her the dress. She had taken it. Taken control. She shrugged off the negative warnings.
Her thoughts were interrupted as Dan entered from the bathroom, silent and pale. She beamed at him, hoping he wasn’t coming down with something. As Dan raised his head, his body crumpled and his legs gave way.
‘Rachel?’ he mouthed ambiguously.
‘What?’
He stood staring, ashen, a ghost of the man he portrayed himself to be. He was silent, confused. She stared back, unsure what to do next, the kids being in the same room making her more anxious to get it right. Had Dan taken on too much with the new job? That on top of the months and months of worry, her disappearance, the accident, the kids, her slow recovery – everything had finally caught up with him, and he was falling apart.
‘Dad, what’s wrong? Are you ill, or are you just trying to get out of eating my cooking?’ Jack wasn’t having any of it. He walked over and grabbed Dan roughly by the arm, led him to his seat at the table.
‘Dan, are you okay?’ Julie stood over him, her words breaking his trance as he began to cry, tears streaming down his cheeks, dotting dark marks over the pale blue of his shirt. ‘Dan, what’s the matter?’
She was concerned now. He was unresponsive, irrational, bordering on hysterical. She didn’t remember seeing him cry before, but her memory wasn’t reliable. Was this normal for him? She prayed he wasn’t having a breakdown. How would she look after the kids? She didn’t know if she was ready, but if she had to, maybe this would be the push she needed. She owed him after all his patience and support. Did I do this to him?
◆ ◆ ◆
DAN
He looked up at Julie, her blissful ignorance, wishing it was he who had concussion, that he didn’t have to live with knowing. He couldn’t explain, couldn’t find the words.
‘Dan! Answer me! You’re scaring me. What’s wrong?’
He had to bear the loss alone, couldn’t let her find out what Rachel meant to him. Had meant to him.
Eventually, his mouth let out a whispered sob. ‘Nothing.’ He paused again. ‘It’s just…so good to have you home.’ He hugged her to him and continued to cry into her dress, breathing in Rachel’s scent, remembering. That dress, the last time she’d slept over, hiding in the wardrobe when Tommy bounded in, laughing as they behaved like teenage lovers trying to keep their secret despite their longing for each other. The freedom when Julie left, the promise of a new life ahead – for them, together, guiltily embracing every opportunity.
It had all started so well, so full of hope, Rachel gradually leaving a few of her bit
s behind each time she popped over. That dress. Their anniversary meal. He wondered what else she had left in the house for Julie to claim as her own, wondered if the children would say anything; if they would work it out; if Julie would remember. He looked up at her as she comforted him, silently stroking his head, marvelling at how beautiful she looked wearing it. The irony of her choosing that day, that exact moment, to wear that dress felt like a message from beyond the grave. But what?
‘My love’, he breathed, pulling her close as he rubbed his eyes dry against the silk. He lifted his head slowly to see her smiling back at him, his family around the table waiting for the episode to pass, Jack visibly cringing at his dad’s display of affection.
He gulped, composing himself, slowly standing, holding onto Julie’s hand for support, and addressed Jack. ‘So, what marvellous medicine have you created for us tonight?’
‘About time, Dad. What was that all about? No need to answer – it was a rhetorical question. Just hurry up and eat, or it’s going to get cold,’ Jack said, then whispered to William, ‘Tuck in, no grace tonight.’
Jack winked and then made his way to the hallway to shout for his little brother.
‘Tommy! Your food is getting cold. Tommy! Come down now!’
No response.
‘He’s probably got headphones on,’ Jack mumbled, annoyed that his dinner was getting cold and bounding up the stairs.
‘I’m just finishing!’ came the heated response.
‘You have to come now!’
‘I’m in the middle of a game!’
‘I’m going to count to three, then I’m going to turn the electric off! One, two—’
‘You’re not the boss of me!’
The lights went out momentarily and doors were heard banging upstairs. Moments later Jack returned to the table, a sulky Tommy in tow.
So that’s how it’s done, Julie noted.
