by Gwyn G B
Mrs Clatt looked down at her feet and flapped a bit more.
‘Well, I, well I’m not sure. I’m a little concerned about her home life. She lives with just her father you know. Some of the compositions she writes are a little disturbing, but I’ve told Mrs Denton and we’re keeping an eye on her. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about.’
‘Disturbing! You mean you think there’s something bad going on at home?’ asked Alison, alarmed now.
‘Oh no, no I probably shouldn’t have said anything. I just don’t think it’s an easy life for her, that’s all.’
Alison was about to continue her interrogation when the little sparrow took fright and flew off.
‘I must get back to the children, I have to set them their homework. Nice to have met you Mrs Swift and don’t worry, I’m sure Sophie will be fine. I’ll keep a special lookout for her,’ and with a smile she was gone, leaving Alison to read between the lines.
Mindful of not wanting to cramp her daughter’s style, Alison had gone to sit in the car while she waited for her. Lost in thought she had a surprise when Sophie and Michaela’s faces popped up at her window.
‘Hi Mummy, you don’t mind if we give Michaela a lift do you? She’s never been in a BMW before.’
Alison looked at her daughter’s friend with new eyes. On the one hand she felt sympathy for this little girl, on the other, she didn’t want her putting ideas into Sophie’s head.
‘No of course not darling,’ she’d had to reply, leaning out of the window to receive her daughter’s kiss. What she’d do, is drive her back to her house and see if she could get a look at her home, or even her father. Alison had never met the man. ‘Did you both have a good day at school?’
For a few minutes Charlie was forgotten while Alison concentrated on her detective work. She started to ask Michaela questions about her father.
‘Does your daddy ever meet you off the bus Michaela, or do you always walk home yourself?’ Michaela shuffled a bit.
‘He doesn’t get home till about seven, sometimes later.’
Alison was shocked.
‘You mean you’re on your own all that time?’
‘Yeah,’ replied the little girl nonchalantly, ‘I just get dinner.’
Alison was really horrified now.
‘What does your father do Michaela?’
‘This and that, mostly plumbing jobs.’
‘And you don’t mind him not being around?’
Michaela looked up now and it seemed as though she wanted to say something, but she stopped herself and looked back down again nervously.
‘No, I don’t mind.’
By this time they had reached the top of their drives and Alison indicated to turn down Michaela’s.
‘No, you mustn’t,’ suddenly squeaked Michaela, her face swathed in panic.
‘Why? Don’t be silly,’ replied Alison.
‘No, please, honestly my dad gets very cross, he doesn’t like people coming to the house.’
‘It’s alright, I’m just dropping you off.’
‘No, please,’ Michaela was trying to open the car door at this stage and so Alison decided not to upset her anymore.
‘OK, OK, you can get out here,’ she said, stopping the car at the top of Michaela’s road.
‘Thank you,’ the little waif said and got out the car as fast as she could, scampering off without so much as a wave or a backward glance.
‘Strange child,’ said Alison.
‘Her dad’s just very strict that’s all,’ replied Sophie, totally unfazed by the whole episode.
‘Doesn’t she get on very well with him then?’ asked Alison digging for more information.
‘Not really…’ she’d said and then refused to elaborate any further.
Worrying about Michaela helped keep Alison’s mind off her own problems and heart ache. When they got back to the house she spotted Martha and decided to have a chat.
‘Those interfering busybodies,’ Martha had said after Alison recounted her conversation with Mrs Clatt. ‘Just because it’s a man on his own, people immediately think he can’t do as good a job as a woman. It’s true, life isn’t easy for them. Michaela was very upset by her mother just walking out like she did.’
‘Oh yes, I wondered what had happened to her,’ said Alison.
‘Just upped and left them one day. Think what that can do to a child. You’re worried about Sophie, but at least she knows her father died in an accident and didn’t leave her because he didn’t love her enough.’
‘Yes,’ Alison nodded, ‘poor child.’
‘Indeed. Robert West can be a strict man, but he means well and I’m afraid Michaela does have to help out with the chores a little bit more than most children that’s all.’
‘Yes I’m sure you’re right, I didn’t mean to imply…’
‘No, of course you wouldn’t my dear.’
There was an awkward silence while Alison searched for something that would change the conversation.
‘I saw Harding with a young boy the other day - I presume it’s his nephew or something - and I wondered if he lived round here and might like to come over and play with Sophie?’
Martha’s face twitched.
‘You must have seen him with Billy, his sister’s son. She went in for a minor operation, so Harding agreed to have the boy for a few days. But he’s gone back now I’m afraid. They live somewhere in Somerset I believe.’
‘Oh well, never mind, just a thought,’ said Alison, ‘anyway I must be off, had better get some dinner on.’
That evening both Robert West and Jim Harding were summoned to the coven leader. She was furious.
‘You,’ she shouted, pointing a gnarled finger at Harding, ‘you are an irresponsible fool. What were you trying to do, get us all arrested?’
Harding shook his head.
‘If you had to move the kid around make sure he can’t be seen,’ Martha spat.
‘Sorry, he was drugged, I thought it would look, well normal.’
‘Don’t answer me back. She’s seen him, how many others did too? We will have to do it tonight. Go and summon the others.’
Harding disappeared off as fast as his legs would go, grateful to get away, and already looking forward to the night’s entertainment.
‘And as for you,’ Martha turned her attention to Robert West, ‘I want you to lay off Michaela, give her some treats or something. The authorities are getting suspicious. I want her to go to school looking happy and clean for the next few weeks. Right?’
Robert West nodded.
Martha waved him away.
22
Alison lay in her bed asleep with her window slightly open and a gentle breeze blowing from the black forest towards her house.
‘Eko, Eko, Azarak,
Eko, Eko, Zomelek,
Eko, Eko, Aradia,
Eko, Eko, Cernnnos.’
The chanting carried on the wind, made her stir.
‘Bezabi, Lacha, Bachababa,
Lamach, Cahi, Achababa,
Karrelos, Cahi, Achababa,
Lamach Lamach Bacharous.’
She awoke and listened, she was sure she could hear a strange noise.
‘Carbahaji, Sabalyos.’
Alison threw off the bedclothes and crossed to the window, opening it fully - the breeze breathing softly into her face.
‘Barglos’
Along the corridor, Beelzebub was also stirring. He’d heard the window open, had woken and got up stretching. Sophie was in turn disturbed and awoke to a pair of vibrant green eyes piercing the darkness. For some reason she felt nervous in the blackness and reached out for the lamp beside her. The sudden white light burst into Beelzebub’s face and he jumped off the bed and ran out of the bedroom. Sophie called after him, ‘Beelzebub come back, you’ll wake mummy.’
The cat didn’t respond and so the little girl set off after him. He disappeared down the stairs into the kitchen.
Alison was still straining t
o hear the noises. Was that voices, or just the wind? She leant too far out and then startled by a noise in the house behind her, turned too suddenly to look and banged her head.
‘Damn,’ she cursed, unaware that there was anybody to hear. It was just as Sophie was passing her mother’s doorway in the quest for the errant cat. Realising she was also awake she knocked softly on her door and walked in.
‘Oh hello sweetheart, what are you doing up?’ Alison was surprised to see her.
‘I heard you. Beelzebub had run off.’
From the forest came,
‘Lazos, Athame, Calyolas,
Samahac Et Famyolas
Harrahya’
Alison turned to listen again.
‘What are you doing?’ Sophie asked her mother.
‘I thought I could hear something, can you?’
Sophie went to stand by her mother at the window, straining to hear. There was nothing. Just the whispers of the trees as they swayed in the wind.
23
A FEW DAYS EARLIER
Todd Warner had been playing with a friend in a burnt out car on some waste ground near their estate. His mate David, had just been called home for his tea by his big brother. Todd stayed on a few minutes alone, lost in his imagination, driving around a Formula One track with the engine screaming and the world speeding him by. At about one hundred and fifty miles per hour he’d just gone into a chicane ahead of Michael Schumacher, when the face of one of the men appeared in his windscreen. Startled he’d forgotten to put on the brakes and his car had continued on unguided by his imagination, crashing off the track and bursting into a ball of flames, a subconscious premonition of his own fate to come.
On the waste ground the face before him had frowned and spoken, ‘What do you think you’re doing? Don’t you know you’re breaking the law?’
Todd’s mind now raced off to a future scene with his father, ‘Getting into trouble again, That’s it you’re grounded for a week,’ he would say.
Todd had shaken his head.
Then another face appeared on the other side of his metal trap, a younger face, but it too scowled.
‘We are police officers and you are going to have to accompany us to the station.’
The future scene with his father got worse and it now took place inside a jail cell, like something from The Bill, with loud mouthed drunks shouting obscenities and tall uniformed policemen towering over his small handcuffed form. Todd had looked at the older man seeking confirmation. He gave it.
‘Come on then, we can’t waste all day. Out you get.’
He’d obeyed and they’d marched him from the waste ground to an unmarked police car which smelt of floral aftershave. The two men held onto an arm each, he’d felt like a condemned prisoner marching down death row to the hangman - his sixth sense keener than he could possibly have realised.
Fear kept him silent for the first hour of the journey, they’d stopped at one point, getting out of the car at what looked like a car yard. A third man had taken the keys from the young one and handed him a new set. Then they’d all got into another smaller car which smelt this time of cleaning fluids. Neither man spoke throughout the first hour and as time dragged on, Todd had begun to look around him. There was no police radio, no sign of uniforms or anything to say that they were cops. Being naive he’d begun to relax as the prospect of a telling off from his father receded, along with the belief these men were police officers. Eventually he’d gathered his confidence and challenged them.
‘Where are we going?’
The young man turned to him and said sharply, ‘We told you. You’re under arrest for criminal behaviour.’
Todd’s bravado grew. ‘If you’re policemen, where are your uniforms and radio?’
The two men swapped glances and then the older one turned to Todd, ‘Stupid boy. We’re undercover. How else do you think we will catch thugs like you. You are being taken to a youth detention centre because we don’t think your parents can control you properly.’
Todd’s bravado vanished into the ether and the bewildered child took over, ‘I want to see my mummy and daddy.’
‘Well you can’t. If you do something wrong then I’m afraid you have to pay the consequences. Not until we think you are ready will you see your parents again. So that means doing exactly as you are told. Right?’
Todd had nodded. He felt very alone and very scared. He wished he was back at home in his bedroom reading his comics or even doing some homework. Anything but this.
They’d driven for what seemed like an eternity, until it grew dark and the little boy was very hungry and thirsty. The two men had whispered a few times to each other, sniggering as they did so, but Todd hadn’t been able to hear what they’d said. Eventually he’d fallen into a disturbed sleep, waking every now and again with a start as his head rolled around on his neck with the movement of the car, making it ache and strain.
The slowing down of the car and the roughness of the road it took, woke Todd. They were surrounded by pure darkness, only a very pale glow in the sky from the moon created any light besides the car headlamps. At first he hadn’t been sure whether he was dreaming or awake, but then a cold wet feeling in his trousers brought reality to him. He’d peed his pants.
Finally, up ahead their headlights were reflected back at them in the windows of a small cottage. The middle-aged man spoke as the car drew to a halt.
‘I’ll get the door. You bring the boy.’
When the car door was opened, Todd got out obediently, concerned only that the man wouldn’t notice the grey patch of wet on the back seat. He didn’t. Todd had no thoughts of escape. Surrounded by a seemingly impenetrable wall of blackness, he would have no idea where to run to. Instead the yellow light which now shone from the opened door, beckoned him in with false promises of cosy homeliness and security.
They took him to the very top of the house where a mattress and sleeping bag lay across the tiny attic room. A roughly made cheese sandwich and glass of milk were handed to him and the door locked. Todd devoured the offering and then felt very sleepy.
By the time he awoke, light was streaming under the locked door and another glass of milk and plate of sandwiches lay in its path. Todd lay still for a few minutes staring at the door, trying to make sense of what was going on. He couldn’t hear the sounds of any other boys. Perhaps he should call out, or perhaps not. He sensed that would anger the men.
The smell of dampness filled his nostrils from the pillow and his mouth felt rough and rancid from where he’d not cleaned his teeth. Mummy always made him clean his teeth before bed. He missed mummy. He wondered why she hadn’t come to see him yet, it must be because he’d been so naughty, as the policeman had said.
Todd drank his milk and ate his sandwich. It was ham, not something he’d usually consume, but he was hungry. Afterwards he began to explore his jail. There wasn’t much there except a few boxes of junk. One of the boxes contained old lamps, a broken vase and some other useless household items, but the other two were more fun. The smaller one of them had a selection of old toys and games: Mousetrap, Tiddlywinks and some jigsaws, and the other had old cricket bats, tennis racquets and roller skates. He pulled these all out onto the floor and then sat there looking at them. Was he allowed to play with them? Before he could decide the answer, he became aware that his bladder was in desperate need of relief.
He looked around the room, fully aware that the facility he required wasn’t in it, and then crossed to the door. Again for some futile reason, he rattled at the handle, hoping maybe that it had been unlocked while he’d been engrossed in the boxes. Then as the sensation in his bladder got stronger, he plucked up the courage and knocked.
‘Hello, Mr Policemen,’ he gingerly called out, then strained to hear for a response. The silence almost hurt his pricked ears. There was a faint sound of birds from outside, and the odd creak as the cottage timbers warmed to the sun, but no footsteps. No voices.
‘Hello,’ he called louder now and
knocked again, ‘please may I use the toilet?’
Nothing. The door began to loom larger and more threatening, it was the only escape route from the room, but it remained steadfastly shut. He thumped his little white fist on the sinews of the wood. ‘Please I need the toilet,’ he seemed to be yelling at the door now. But it stood defiant, unmoved by his plea. Todd began to cry. This wasn’t any fun at all, he wanted it all over now. Why couldn’t he go home?
Eventually the door won and he’d been ashamedly forced to seek out the old dusty vase from the first box and pee into that. He may be just a child, but his human pride was tainted, he felt degraded, although he couldn’t understand the feeling and why he felt it. He imagined himself to be one of the animals he visited at the zoo, and the locked door became his enemy number one.
He played with the toys until the light from under the door began to dim. He was hungry again now and aware that his trousers were starting to smell where his urine had stiffened the fabric from the car journey the night before. At least, he thought it was the night before, he was getting confused.
At the point where the grey from under the door was beginning to fade into black, the room was suddenly lit up by a bright white artificial light. Todd was relieved to see the older policeman’s face. His jailer became his saviour from the relentless prison door.
‘It stinks in here,’ said the policeman, screwing up his nose. ‘Where you been peeing?’
Todd pointed at the vase which sat in the furthest corner.
‘Bring it,’ his captor said, motioning gruffly for him to follow. Todd rushed to pick up the vase, grateful to be able to escape his cell for the fresh air beyond.
‘You pissed your pants last night didn’t you?’ the man continued crossly.
Todd hung his head in shame.
‘I’m sorry Sir,’ he almost whispered. There was no reply so he continued, ‘will I be able to see my mum and dad soon?’ he pleaded.
