by KERRY BARNES
Brooke beckoned her sister in.
Poppy sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Are you feeling any better?’
‘Yeah, I am, thanks to you. Who’d have thought it, me and you becoming friends?’
Poppy gave Brooke a weak smile. ‘You were always my friend. I just think our mother controlled us so much we didn’t even have a chance to be buddies. But, listen. I want to talk about our father.’
With a frown furrowing Brooke’s brow, she sat up straighter. ‘What about him?’
Poppy fiddled with the edge of the bed cover. ‘Do you ever get the feeling he’s not part of us as a family? It’s hard to explain. It’s like he’s not interested. I mean, I feel I don’t even know him. Do you, or is it just me?’
Brooke stared off into the distance, and her face dropped in sadness. ‘I thought it was just me, Poppy. I honestly thought he never loved me.’
Feeling a sense of sadness, Poppy studied her sister’s face. The girl had been through so much, and there she was like a little angel, sitting up in bed, doubting her father’s love.
‘He never loved any of us. But while we’re being honest, I think he had a thing for Kendall. It was just the way he looked at her. But I’ve been thinking a lot about stuff lately, and I want to move out. How about you?’
Brooke’s eyes suddenly lit up. ‘What? Do you mean me and you?’
Poppy nodded, pleased with the way the conversation was going. ‘Why not? This house is full of secrets, and it’s strangling the life out of me. Think about it. Kendall was miserable, and they made her unhappy, I just know they did. I’ve never felt that this is a healthy situation. It’s all fake and stifling. I want to leave and begin to live like Kendall wanted to.’
‘Yes, I hate it here as well. There’s no love in this house. Mother only loves her job, and Dad, well, he just loves himself. And as for his job, I don’t know what it actually is, do you?’
‘Overseas property, I believe. Anyway, I’ve secured a job at the post office. I start on Monday. Fuck uni. I’m done with that. It wasn’t a great course anyway, and I did some reading up on that too. The educational system is all about job statistics and providing jobs for university staff. My media course won’t get me a job. There are thousands looking for work. I was thinking that maybe we could ask Kendall’s father. He has property. He gave Kendall a flat.’
Brooke gasped and put her hands to her mouth. ‘What? Poppy, you can’t ask him, it would be . . . well, insensitive.’
Poppy shook her head. ‘You didn’t meet him, I did. He isn’t the type to get all sentimental. You should have heard him. He put Mother in her place.’
‘How will you contact him?’
Poppy winked. ‘I went through Kendall’s stuff and found his phone number. I could call him, if you want. He can only say no.’
‘Go on, then. I’m up for that. I would love to get away from here, from them.’
Both the girls began to giggle and started to make a plan. ‘Let’s just go and not tell them,’ said Brooke.
Poppy bounded to her feet. ‘Mother won’t be back ’til midnight. She’s got one of her meetings. I’ll go down to the log cabin. I know Dad puts the suitcases there.’
Brooke pulled her quilt off. ‘I’ll start sorting out my stuff. This is so exciting. Where will we go tonight, though?’
‘Nowhere. Let’s just get packing and be ready to leave tomorrow, once we sort out a place.’
Brooke tied her hair into a ponytail and began going through her wardrobe while Poppy headed down to the garden to Alastair’s man cave, as he called it. It was so dark that she couldn’t see her own hands in front of her; that was until the sensor light almost blinded her. It was so long ago when she’d last been down to the cabin, which she knew was rarely used by the family, apart from Alastair storing his old files and all their suitcases.
She used her phone to light up the lock on the door and was surprised to find it was made secure with a sturdy industrial padlock. She wondered for a moment if it had always been on there. ‘Damn!’ she said aloud. The cold air made her shiver, so she hurried back. She tried to think where her father would keep the key, and then she had a thought.
Her parents’ bedroom was a real no-go area. Neither she nor her sisters had ever been allowed in their room. She made her way back up the stairs and stood for a moment outside their door. It was as if she was entering a different house. Slowly, she turned the knob and pushed the door open. She didn’t really know what to expect, yet it all looked relatively normal. There was a large double bed, built-in wardrobes, and bedside cabinets. A sudden shudder shot through her like someone had walked over her grave. What did she really know about her parents? She knew the answer to that question, though – nothing.
She crept over to the nearest bedside cabinet and assumed it was her mother’s because it had antidepressants, a nail file, and a chick lit book inside the drawer.
The drawer to the other cabinet was full of stuff: there were keys, old phones, batteries, a small miniature bottle of whisky, a box of condoms, and a pen. She snatched the keys and left, remembering to close the door behind her, but forgetting to shut the drawers.
Grabbing her trendy oversized coat from the hallway, she chose to exit via the patio doors and hurried down to the end of the garden. She was in luck with the first key she tried and instantly she released the padlock. On entering the cabin, she used her phone again to search for the light switch.
Like the shrewd little madam she was, she figured there must be a reason for the curtains to be closed. She switched on the light and saw that there in the corner of the room was a computer. It was a new one at that. The set-up in here was nothing like Poppy had expected at all. In her mind – or even the last time she’d been inside the cabin – when was that? – it was a glorified shed, with old paperwork, photos, and the usual garden furniture. Seeing the present set-up, though, was a surprise and very troubling. And Poppy, being the inquisitive one, she had to take a look. She’d expected to find a collection of porno films and magazines. Why she thought that she wasn’t sure, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she had this weird notion that her father was a mysterious man. All the women always gave him a double-take because not only was he an exceptionally good-looking man, but he was built like a bodybuilder. She found the cabin odd. It was too comfortable; it was as if someone spent a lot of time in here. The office chair seemed worn, yet it wasn’t dusty and neglected. It had a new cushion for extra back support. Even the black lamps showed not a speck of dust. The filing cabinets had a plant on the top that was vibrant, which told her something here wasn’t quite right. The trunks on the floor she’d never seen before, but then, everywhere appeared alien. Except for the suitcases in the corner, that was.
She would just have grabbed two cases and left, but it wasn’t in her nature to turn a blind eye. As she tugged at the cabinets, she soon discovered they were locked. Fumbling through the keys, she finally was able to access the drawers. Inside, she found some papers, yet when she read the details, she couldn’t make head nor tail of them. It was as if everything was in code. She decided to put them in her pocket to read later. The computer sparked into life but required a password. Although she tried all of her family’s names, she was out of luck. Her attention was then drawn to the trunk in the corner. She tried to find the key, but nothing fitted. Her heart was beating fast, and as she stepped back towards the suitcases, she noticed that on the side of one of the trunks was a piece of material that had been trapped outside when it was locked. She bent down and felt the brown fabric. It was hessian. Suddenly, her mind went into overdrive, and her breathing increased. She had to get out. Grabbing both suitcases, she turned to leave, ensuring she switched off the light. Once she was outside, she locked the padlock and hauled the cases up to the house and through the patio doors.
It was so strange. Why hadn’t she known what was going on down there? Her bedroom faced the back garden. However, the answer to that was now blindingly obvious. The
cabin was fitted with blackout curtains. And the door and window didn’t face the house. She didn’t know why she did it, but something made her go back and have another look around the cabin’s exterior. She walked past the door and the window until she was looking at the back fence. There, tucked behind the cabin, was a gate. She’d never seen it before though.
The eerie thoughts tumbled over themselves, and she wasted no time in running back to the house.
Out of breath and shaking, she rushed into Brooke’s bedroom with the suitcases to find her sister carefully placing her clothes in piles.
‘Brooke!’ The slight tremble in her voice made her sister spin around.
The sight of Poppy, her face paler than she’d ever seen in her life and her eyes looking nervously towards her, took her by surprise.
‘What’s the matter? You look strange. Are you sick?’
‘No, Brooke, I’m not. But I’ve seen stuff I’m not supposed to know about. We need to get out of here. Like now!’
‘What! Why? What on earth’s the matter?’
Poppy sat on the bed and placed her head in her hands. Brooke could see she was in a state, which was so unlike Poppy. She was the cold, stern one, much like Kendall.
‘Brooke, I think our father’s up to something. There was a piece of material sticking out of a trunk. You’ll never believe what it was. It was hessian.’
Brooke didn’t see the connection right away. ‘And?’
‘Hessian, Brooke. What’s he doing with fucking hessian? Seriously, think about it. Mother said the men were found with hessian bags over their heads. That Ricky guy, Kendall’s boyfriend, was beaten, with a sack over his head too.’
Brooke laid down the pile of T-shirts she had in her hand. ‘Poppy, don’t get carried away. You’re spooking me. Besides, hessian is used for loads of stuff, like putting inside the hanging baskets that Mother insists on.’
‘It’s not just that. You should see the cabin. It’s being used as an office, not as a shed, and I think it’s our father who is working in there. It’s all warm and cosy, not just a shed. There are even blackout curtains up at the window. And, Brooke, did you know we have a rear entrance into the garden? Did you ever see the gate in the back fence because I for one never knew it was there?’
Now Brooke understood why Poppy had come into her bedroom in such a state. Brooke looked at Poppy with fear in her eyes. She was vulnerable as it was, but with all these details about their cabin and what Poppy had found, it was sending her once more into a scary, crazy place where those mental visions of being attacked came back to haunt her again. ‘Oh my God! Poppy, don’t tell me anything more about the place. Let’s just go. This is so strange. I need to figure this out. I tell you what. Let’s go to Grandpa’s place. He’ll know what to do.’
‘Well, just grab a change of clothes and let’s go now. Mother will be home soon.’
They agreed to leave the suitcases in situ. Brooke pulled a small holdall from under her bed and threw a few bits in.
Poppy eyed up the sweatshirts. ‘Throw in one for me. They’re nice.’ She was surprised that Brooke had so many lovely clothes. ‘And that pair of jeans. You’ve got loads.’
Brooke did as she was told, and, within a few minutes, they were packed and ready to leave. They hurried down the stairs, but, as they reached the front door, they both stopped dead in their tracks. There, looking white-faced, stood their father. Brooke’s body language urged Poppy to do something.
‘Hello, girls. Where are you off to at this time of night?’
Poppy observed that their father didn’t even act surprised that Brooke was out of her room. In fact, he appeared washed out with a couldn’t-give-a shit attitude.
‘We’re just going to a friend’s slumber party. See you tomorrow.’
Alastair frowned and stared at the two girls. ‘It’s a bit late to go to a friend’s house, isn’t it?’ His expression changed to a knowing smirk that had Brooke shaking in her boots.
‘Hello! Dad, we’re not twelve years old, you know. And why would we be answering to you? Christ, when I was at uni, you never worried then.’
He slowly looked down at the holdall that was not zipped up and bulging with clothes. ‘A slumber party, eh?’
Poppy barged past him. ‘Yes, that’s right. See you later.’
Suddenly, he gripped her arm. ‘Not so fast. Where’s your mother?’
‘At her meeting. Let go of me, Dad. You’re hurting me.’
He released his grip and stepped aside, silently watching as they tried to slide past. Out of the corner of his eye, he recognized something poking out of Poppy’s back pocket that he knew she shouldn’t have. Instantly, he grabbed her arm again before she got through the front door, and roughly, he pulled her back inside. Brooke was horrified.
‘What the hell are you two up to?’ he growled, as he pulled the paper from her pocket and waved it in front of her face.
Brooke was now outside and shaking even more. She looked at her sister, who was glued to the spot, and decided the best course of action was to get help. She dropped the bag and darted. She was the fastest runner in the family and wasn’t going to stop now.
‘Wait!’ screamed Alastair, as he let go of Poppy and chased after Brooke.
Poppy made the most of her chance. She set off to run, which she did, but in the opposite direction.
The road was dark, and her mind was now focused on getting away. She darted between two parked cars and straight into the road, checking behind to see where her father was. So she didn’t notice the car that flew around the corner.
Shit! All she saw were blinding lights. The impact was so hard that she somersaulted into the road and spun round – devastatingly – into a parked car.
Rebecca’s heart was in her mouth. The rush of adrenaline, sending pins and needles over her body, left her shaken and too stunned to leave the vehicle. She had knocked someone down. Used to making spur-of-the-moment decisions, her brain went straight into action. It was about damage limitation now. Quickly, she assessed the consequences and the trouble she would be in. The meeting had gone on so long she’d needed a drink or two to keep her mind going. But she hadn’t consumed a drink or two, had she? she thought. She’d actually had a lot more, at least four, by her reckoning. She was the MP, for fuck’s sake. She would not only be done for drink driving but possibly arrested on a manslaughter charge as well, if whoever she had run down was dead. She’d not seen who the person was who was lying in the road. That was it! It was so dark, there were no cameras in her street, so she could get away with this one. Her heart was pummelling like a bongo drum, and she was breathing heavily. She put the Lexus into gear and drove away, not even looking back to see who she’d potentially killed. In her mind was the headline Drunk Driver Rebecca Mullins MP Kills Pedestrian.
***
Poppy lay motionless. However, as she opened her eyes, she could just see the car’s rear lights with the distinctive number plate REB 1M illuminated as the car turned into her drive. She closed her eyes and fell into unconsciousness.
***
Rebecca was still shaken up. She was almost in complete meltdown. Unsteadily, she drove her car into the drive, clicked the remote, and waited for the garage shutters to open before she drove carefully inside. She wondered if the garage was actually clear since she hadn’t parked in there for a year. It was an irritant if she needed to be somewhere else quickly. It was the shutters: they always took forever to open, so she generally parked in the drive.
As soon as she stepped out, she flicked on the light switch and looked at the damage. The front passenger wing was dented, and the headlight was cracked but still in one piece. She sighed heavily. ‘Thank God,’ she murmured. She felt pretty pleased with herself for using her head and not panicking. At least there wouldn’t be any evidence that the incident was her fault; if there was no debris at the scene, which she thought was the case, then no one could trace the accident back to her. She would take the car to a body shop fir
st thing in the morning and say she’d hit the lawn mower while parking the Lexus in the garage. With that inspired thought clearly in her mind, she calmed down and walked into the kitchen from the side door. For a moment, she felt her heart sink. She peered at the breakfast bar and imagined Kendall sitting there swaying to some modern music with her headphones on. She wondered if she’d even had a chance to grieve. What with arranging the funeral, being preoccupied with her work, and Brooke suffering from the attack, she’d barely had time to give Kendall much thought. She stared at the cup left on the side and decided to make herself a coffee. Then, as she tried to remember some good times with Kendall, she drew a blank. Had she ever even loved her? She must have done, surely? She’d given birth to her, she’d nursed her . . . well, for some of the time. A tear fell down her cheek, but she quickly brushed it away. Who was the tear for anyway? Was it for Kendall or herself?
***
As Poppy felt herself going in and out of consciousness, she could hear a voice asking her name. The problem was, though, she couldn’t speak. The numbing feeling in her head was blocking the pains in her back and her hip. She tried to move, but it felt as though she was wrapped in a cocoon. Her eyes flickered open. It was still dark and a figure was kneeling beside her, but all she could make out was the bright light coming from the person’s phone screen. Then she heard the words ‘ambulance’ and ‘quickly’ said urgently into his phone. Those words were bittersweet: she knew she was seriously injured but at least help was on its way.
Barely conscious, she heard the sirens in the distance and then more voices. However, everything was a blur; she didn’t know where she was or who was there, but the one thing she did recall was her mother’s number plate. How could she ever forget that?
***
Rebecca’s nerves had calmed considerably with a strong coffee. It wasn’t until she left the kitchen, though, that she realized the front door was open. Tutting and cursing her girls for forever leaving something open – the fridge, the milk top, and now the bloody front door – she slammed it shut before she wandered upstairs, expecting to find Alastair in bed. Curiously, he wasn’t there. Yet, on closer inspection, both the bedside cabinet drawers were open. Something was afoot, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. Brooke’s room was also unoccupied. She noticed two suitcases partially packed on the bed and ran into Poppy’s room only to find she wasn’t there. A cold sensation ripped through her like an icy winter wind.
