The Tallow Image
Page 36
It was quick and frenzied, and he was right, Rosie had wanted it too. Seeing Mike again, and knowing he was out of her reach for a while, had left her on edge. Eddie was small consolation, but it wasn’t Eddie she was making love to; it was Mike – Mike who was invading her body, Mike whose arms held her tight; Mike whom she meant to have, by fair means or foul.
Luke heard them from some distance away and he knew from past experience that they were having sex. It was never love; it never could be. Eddie was a beast who had to satisfy his lust, and Rosie was just Rosie, indomitable and exuberant. She believed life was for living, and Eddie had to be tolerated.
Ever since that other man had come into their lives some time ago, Rosie had been different, quieter somehow, and oddly distant. Sadder too, and that wasn’t like her. There was something about Mike Peterson that bothered Luke. His mother had a secret, and she kept it close. But he would find out. He had his ways.
Dismayed and thoughtful, he stood by the great oak tree and watched them for a while. His mother was spreadeagled on the steps, legs apart and feet touching the ground. Thrusting in and out on top of her, Eddie held her arms above her head, pressing the backs of her small hands into the rim of the camper van door. He cried out in bliss when Rosie arched into him.
Unable to watch any longer, Luke turned away, and as he did so, he heard Eddie give a long, shuddering sigh. At the same time Rosie uttered a name, the name Luke had on his mind at that very moment: ‘Mike!’ In a moment of ecstasy, the name sprang from her lips, and Luke knew she would be punished.
‘Bitch!’ yelled Eddie. He dragged her up the steps and into the camper van. ‘You lying bitch!’ Digging his fingers into her flesh, he drew her up to face him. ‘So it’s Mike, is it? And where is he, this Mike?’
Fearful for her life, Rosie stammered, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Liar!’ He flung her across the camper van and then pulled her up again by the hair. He pressed his face close to hers, his voice grating. ‘You’d better talk or I swear to God I’ll do for the pair of you.’
Wiping the blood from her nose, Rosie was defiant. ‘I don’t know anybody called Mike.’
Another hard slap made her buckle at the knees. ‘I mean it, Rosie. If I can’t have you, nobody else will. I’ll see to that.’
She didn’t answer. Instead she turned her eyes upwards to look at his face, ugly and distorted with fury. In that moment she knew him better than she ever imagined. ‘If I can’t have you, nobody else will,’ he had warned. That was how she felt about Mike.
Again he grabbed her, raising her to him by sliding her up against the wall. ‘You’ve been seeing him, haven’t you? All this time! And again tonight when I couldn’t find you – you were with him, weren’t you?’
Hating him, Rosie stayed silent.
A vicious slap across the mouth brought a fresh spurt of blood. Rosie raised her head as if about to answer, then spat in his face. Incensed, he held her away from him, bunched his fist and brought it crashing down against her temple. With a cry she slumped to the floor and he raised his foot to kick her.
‘Leave her alone!’ Luke burst through the door and without any thought for his own safety launched himself at Eddie. There was a vicious scuffle and for a time it seemed as if the boy’s anger was more than a match for the man’s strength. But after a few minutes, Luke was hurt and bleeding, and Eddie was triumphant.
Taking the boy by the scruff of his neck, Eddie asked softly, ‘Tell me where I can find him or I swear I’ll tie you both up and set fire to the place.’
‘You wouldn’t!’
Laughing, he shook his head. ‘If you think that, you don’t know me.’
Realising he was crazy enough to carry out his threat, Luke wondered if he should tell. Why should he care about Mike Peterson anyway? Nothing was the same any more. His mother was even talking about settling here, when their plans had always been to travel, to be free, see as much of the world as they could. He didn’t know she had been scouring the country for him. Mike Peterson was all she cared about now, so why not let Eddie finish him off? The idea was tempting.
‘Well? I’m waiting!’
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Eddie that Mike Peterson was now in a mental hospital, and had been since the night they had first met him. But then he thought of his mother and how she would feel, knowing he had betrayed her, and changed his mind. ‘His name is Mike Peterson,’ he answered sullenly. ‘And it’s no good asking me any more, because I don’t know.’
Eddie’s answer was to smash his fist into Luke’s face. ‘Maybe that will loosen your tongue.’
‘You can hit me again if you like, but I still won’t know any more than I’ve told you.’ He remembered his mother’s courage and could not be less than she was.
Taken aback, Eddie hesitated. He had known Luke since he was a small boy, and knew him well enough to recognise that he might be telling the truth. ‘Mike Peterson, you say?’
Luke nodded. ‘That’s all she’s ever told me.’
Hard-faced, Eddie nodded. ‘I’ll find the bastard,’ he rasped, ‘and when I do, he won’t be a threat any more.’ With murder in mind he stamped out of the camper van.
Luke tended his mother. After a splash of cold water and a few minutes to recover, she managed to sit up in his arms. ‘Where is he?’
Luke remained silent.
‘Luke! What did you tell him?’ Tugging at his sleeve, she made him face her. ‘Please, Luke. I need to know.’
Looking down at her cut and bruised face, Luke felt ashamed. ‘I didn’t tell him where he was if that’s what you’re worried about.’ Anger betrayed itself in his voice. ‘I nearly did though.’
‘So what did you tell him?’ Wincing with pain, she drew herself up to sit in the chair, her eyes pleading with him to tell her the truth.
‘His name, that’s all. He’s gone to find him.’ The enormity of it all suddenly dawned on him. ‘He won’t kill him, will he?’ Murder! A thing like that would touch them all.
Rosie leaned forward to rest her hands on his shoulders, her eyes wide with fear. ‘You know what he’s like. We have to stop him.’
Luke looked at her defiantly. ‘Why should I stop him?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Ever since that day when we met Mike Peterson at the river, you’ve changed. You always seem to be miles away… thinking about him. You take off and don’t tell anybody where you go.’ His voice stiffened. ‘I followed you… the other night, when you thought I was nowhere about.’
‘You had no right.’
‘I know where you go.’ His voice shook. ‘I know what you do.’
‘I have nothing to be ashamed of.’
Luke shrugged her off. ‘Sitting outside a mental hospital like some sort of vulture, watching his wife come and go. I saw you creeping round the building, peering through windows, trying to catch a glimpse of him.’
‘That’s enough, Luke. I don’t want to hear any more.’
‘If you ask me, it should be you in there because you’re as mad as he is.’
Rosie smiled. ‘I’m in love, that’s all. I’ve always loved him.’
Luke leaped up, his face warped with anger. ‘You don’t understand, do you? He’s not yours to love!’
‘Oh, but he is.’
There was a pause then, as these two looked at each other, a wealth of love between them; a love confused by all that Rosie knew, and Luke could only imagine.
‘You’ll find out one day,’ Rosie said, ‘so you might as well know now.’ Pausing, she took a deep, invigorating breath. ‘You have to understand… how it was…’ Rosie’s courage almost deserted her, but she had always known the moment for truth would come.
‘What are you trying to say, Mum?’ Like a prisoner waiting to be executed, Luke wanted it over.
‘Mike Peterson is your father.’
For a long, agonising moment, he stared at her, eyes wide with disbelief. He saw the tr
uth on her face but could not accept it. ‘He can’t be my father. You told me he was dead!’
‘I lied to protect you.’
Grey with shock, Luke turned on his heel and ran into the night. Behind him, he could hear his mother’s frantic cry, ‘Eddie wants to kill your father. You’ve got to stop him!’
Painfully, Rosie pulled herself out of the chair and staggered to the water bowl where she sponged her face and neck, and wiped away the blood. ‘Got to find him.’ Mumbling to herself, she buttoned her blouse. Catching sight of her dishevelled self in the mirror, she was deeply shocked. ‘I can’t let him hurt Mike.’ Without Mike she was nothing.
A moment later, she left the camper van and disappeared into the darkness.
The quickest way from West Bay to Bridport was on foot.
After leaving the camper van, Eddie had followed the ancient route through the spinney, across the meadow, and along the narrow footpath that ran alongside the river. The only light was the soft haze of moonlight above, and even that was muted by the tall trees.
Filled with murderous thoughts, he pressed on towards Bridport where he would find the nearest pub and begin his search. He suspected Rosie and Peterson must have been meeting in Bridport, and that was where he would find him, he was sure. Bridport was a small place; everybody knew everybody else. Someone was certain to know Mike Peterson.
He grinned. ‘He needs to be taught a lesson… they both do. Nobody takes my woman.’
He leapt the stile and clambered over the gate – but his feet never touched the ground.
Stealing up behind him, the figure was stealthy, silent as the night and indistinguishable from the trees all around. Quick, agile fingers curled round a chunk of branch and, raising it high, brought it crashing down on Eddie’s skull with a nauseating crunch. The terrified scream of a night creature sent the animals scurrying for cover and from somewhere in the distance came the sound of voices.
Satisfied, the figure went softly away.
In the ensuing silence, the broken body settled. Caught by its feet it hung upside down from the top rung of the gate, its eyes wide open, staring after the furtive figure.
There was no backward glance. The escape was swift and sly, and soon, save for those accusing eyes, it was as if nothing had happened.
Available now
About this Book
1880: Hauntingly beautiful Rebecca Norman is condemned to die. As she awaits the hangman, she fashions two crude dolls from candle tallow.
Over a century later, one of the dolls falls into the hands of young, newly married Cathy Slater. Under its malign influence, Cathy beings to change, tormented by emotions she does not understand and cannot control.
Only one person can help her – a frail old woman who has waited with dread for an ancient evil to surface…
Also by this Author
THE TALISMAN SEQUENCE
No Heaven, No Hell
Virginia is the living image of her great-grandmother. She has the same presence, the same outstanding beauty. But behind her smile lies a terrible secret.
One by one her family die – first her grandmother, then her aunt, then her father. Only her loving sister Lianne is spared.
It seems that Virginia has inherited not only her great-grandmother’s name and looks, but also the unspeakable evil that took her to the grave….
No Heaven, No Hell is available here.
The Hiding Game
He had seen it with his own eyes, heard the awful screams, but nobody would believe him. Is Mike Peterson losing his mind? The doctors certainly think so and Mike is confined to a psychiatric unit.
Three years later, life has changed irrevocably for the Peterson family. The children will never forgive their father for shattering the family, his wife has built herself a successful career.
But now Mike is coming home...
The Hiding Game is available here.
The Seeker
She is known as the woman on Bluebell Hill, a beautiful, ghostly figure haunting the lanes surrounding a remote rural inn, searching for something, or someone.
One moment the road is clear, the next she appears from nowhere; a squeal of brakes, a sickening thud and she vanishes as mysteriously as she appeared.
David Walters is a contented family man, until she singles him out.
Vowing to find out more about this mysterious, troubled apparition, Walters stumbles on an age-old secret – one that will endanger the lives of everyone he loves.
The Seeker is available here.
The Tallow Image
1880: Hauntingly beautiful Rebecca Norman is condemned to die. As she awaits the hangman, she fashions two crude dolls from candle tallow.
Over a century later, one of the dolls falls into the hands of young, newly married Cathy Slater. Under its malign influence, Cathy beings to change, tormented by emotions she does not understand and cannot control.
Only one person can help her – a frail old woman who has waited with dread for an ancient evil to surface…
Scarlet
On a fateful winter’s day in 1937, 18-year-old Cassie Thornton boards the Queen Mary and sets sail for England. Her mission: to find the mysterious Scarlet Pengally, the mother who abandoned her many years ago.
Her search leads to the West Country, to the dark, forbidding edifice of Greystone House, where Scarlet was born, home to generations of Pengallys. Yet it is also home to an unspoken dread, epicenter of a haunting tragedy – a desperate love and dark vengeance that has plagued the family for generations.
The key to it all is Scarlet. And Cassie must find her – for now the family’s curse is threatening her own young life…
Scarlet is available here.
No Mercy
Many years ago, Thornton Place had been a magnificent sight. Now the isolated mansion is almost derelict; a bewitching, foreboding place. Yet it is Ellie Armstrong’s home, the house her father had been hired to renovate. And – still grieving over the recent death of her mother – Ellie has learned to love it.
As winter draws in, the shadows cast by Thornton Place’s sinister past lengthen. But Ellie is oblivious. She has found love. A love that is hypnotically powerful – and fatally compelling.
No Mercy is available here.
About the Author
J. T. BRINDLE is the author of the Talisman sequence. She lives in Buckinghamshire.
Brindle is the nom de plume of one of Britain’s No. 1 bestselling authors, with over forty books to her name.
A Letter from the Publisher
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The story starts here.
First published in 1994 by Orion
First published in the UK in 2014 by Head of Zeus Ltd
Copyright © J.T. Brindle, 1994
The moral right of J.T. Brindle to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. All characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British
Library.
ISBN (E) 9781781859926
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Contents
Cover
Welcome Page
Dedication
Foreword
Part 1: 1880 Fremantle Western Australia
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Part 2: 1988 Bedford England
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Acknowledgements
Preview
About this Book
Also by this Author
About the Author
An Invitation from the Publisher
Copyright