by Tim O'Rourke
Phebe poured some tea from the pot into a cup for me. I added a splash of milk and stirred it. She stood and watched me as I cut off a chunk of the meat and forked it into my mouth. Blood oozed from the meat and down my throat. My stomach swallowed it up.
“Well, if you want anything else, just let me know,” Phebe said, heading away from the table.
“There is just more thing,” I said. I washed down the piece of steak I’d been chewing with a gulp of hot tea.
“What’s that?” she said, pausing mid-stride and looking back over her shoulder at me.
“How far away is Snake Weed from here?” I asked her.
“Why do you want to know about Snake Weed?” she said. “There’s nothing there.”
“I heard there’s a statue there that’s worth checking out,” I said, pushing more of the bloody steak onto my fork.
“I’ve never been to Snake Weed,” Phebe said.
“So how do you know there’s nothing there?” I said, turning to look out of the window again.
Chapter Five
Feeling as if my stomach was going to burst, I left the inn and walked to my car. I climbed inside and sat with the engine running idly. It coughed and spluttered as its rusty frame shook all around me. There seemed so much to investigate and I was itching to start – but where to go first? For the first time in my life I was blind to the clues. There didn’t seem to be any. My strongest instinct was to find out who Lois Li really was. But where to look? She seemed not to have a single clue for me to follow. I had a phone number that when I called no one ever answered. All I got was a series of clicks and finally an automated voice. The letter that I’d arrived with had no email or contact address. When I’d asked Murphy about her, he had said that he’d never met this elusive Lois Li either. All contact appeared to be made by sending a series of beige envelopes back and forth. There didn’t seem to be anything tangible for me to get ahold of – a series of clues for me to follow. Not one.
There was the mystery of Doctor Ravenwood. What had happened to his body? Was he dead or still very much alive? And what did the key he had given me open? Before dying – or was that disappearing – he had whispered to me that he could hear the wind in the willows. Had that been some kind of clue for me to follow, or was he simply remembering that he had once left me a letter in a book with the same name in a previous where and when? If I could only find whatever it was the key opened, then I guessed that would be a start. But where did I start looking? Back at Hallowed Manor seemed the most obvious choice – after all, he had hidden the bottle of Lot 12 there. Perhaps he had some other secret place in his study that I had yet to discover? But going back to Hallowed Manor meant seeing Potter again. I wasn’t so sure that I was ready for that. My feelings were still very raw where he was concerned. I knew that for the next day or so at least, I needed to put some distance between myself and Potter. And I guessed that he needed some time away from me too. However much the thought pained me, I knew that he needed to be with Sophie and she needed some time with him. But was I really being so understanding out of charity for them? Or was I still so hurt by the fact he had turned her that I couldn’t bear to look at either of them until I had my feelings in check? To be near to Potter was like a constant battle raging inside of me. I couldn’t just switch off the feelings I had for him. Perhaps I never would be able to, but I would have to try. Nev had only seen Potter and me together once and for the briefest of time and he said he could see how much we loved each other. Murphy suspected it too – I knew he did by the odd comments he had made. It had been Murphy who had told me Potter had been filled with jealousy when discovering that I had gone out for dinner with Nev. Even Sophie had sensed my jealousy. She had remarked that the only reason I hadn’t wanted her to be bitten by Potter was because I was jealous. And she had been right. I really didn’t know if I could face going back to Hallowed Manor so soon and face them – I didn’t want them to see what was so obviously written all across my face.
So as I sat in my car outside the Crescent Moon Inn and drummed my fingers against the steering wheel, and for the first time in my life I felt like a spare part – like there was nothing for me to do. And that was the most frustrating thing, because there was so much for me to investigate but I just didn’t know where to start. But perhaps I was looking for stuff to investigate that didn’t really need to be investigated. So what if Kayla and Isidor had gone off? They weren’t my friends here. I was nothing to them. Perhaps they had gone travelling? A lot of young people did that – didn’t they? So what if Lois Li wanted to keep his or her identity secret? Did it make this mystery person some kind of criminal? Did it make him or her corrupt in some way? And what of Sophie’s turning? If it wasn’t for the fact that I was in love with the man that had turned her, would I have really cared? This wasn’t my world – it was theirs. They did stuff differently here. Was that so bad?
But however much I tried to convince myself that I was looking for stuff to investigate that didn’t need investigating, all my senses screamed that stuff was very wrong here in this where and when. Like who had left the bottle of Lot 13 in my room and why? Where had Ravenwood disappeared to and why had he tried to kill Sophie? What did he know that I didn’t?
My phone buzzed in my pocket, and with the engine of my car still farting and rumbling, I pulled it out. I had a text message from Nev. I was surprised to learn that he wanted to make contact so soon after what had happened between us yesterday. There was a part of me that was glad he did. Although my feelings for him only extended to friendship, I might not feel the same sometime in the future. And I’d meant what I’d said to him. If we’d met in some other place and time anything could have been possible. If I was to stay in this where and when forevermore, was I really going to spend it with my heart aching for Potter? Could I ever be really happy watching from afar as Potter led his life with Sophie? Would I ever be able to bear to watch him bringing up Abbie when I knew in my heart that in some other where and when he would be raising our daughter? Was I really prepared to torture myself forevermore like that? At some point I would have to let go. I’d have to hope that my feelings for Potter would lessen. They might not ever go, but fade over time. Could my feelings then change for Nev? Did I really want to push him away and regret it like I now regretted pushing Potter away? But I didn’t want to give Nev false hope either. That would be unkind and cruel of me. I couldn’t expect Nev to wait for me forever no more than Potter could expect me to wait for him. But who was I trying to kid? There was no hope for me and someone like Nev even if my feelings in some distant future did change toward Potter. How could I ever expect Nev to love me? I was a monster.
With a deep sigh, I tapped the screen of my phone with my thumb, and opened the message Nev had sent me.
Help me, Kiera, it read.
Chapter Six
I hit the dial button and pressed the phone to my ear. It rang at the other end. There was no answer. I hit the disconnect button and tried again. It continued to ring without answer. Tossing my phone onto the passenger seat, I shot forward along the road as fast as my tired old car would go. I took the bends in the narrow coastal roads at speed as I made my way in the direction of where Nev lived. With no idea as to why Nev had sent me the message and why he needed my help, I pushed the pedal down as far as it would go. The engine made a chugging sound, and for the first time I wondered if Potter had been right when he had once left a message on the windscreen telling me to get a new car as the one I had was nothing other than a piece of junk. But I knew I would never get rid of her. Even if I could one day afford a better car, I wouldn’t swap. Not ever.
“Come on, girl,” I whispered through clenched teeth as I navigated the tight bends in the roads. “Don’t let me down now.”
Over the brow of the next hill, I could see the chimney poking out of the roof of the cottage where Nev rented the barn. Feeling as if the back wheels of my car had lifted from the surface of the road, I raced my car up and over the hill
and down the other side. I followed the last of the winding road, pulling to a shrieking stop outside the cottage. I noticed at once the bike that Nev rode into town to buy groceries for his landlady, Mavis Bateman, was missing from outside. Had Nev cycled into the Ragged Cove and fallen from his bike? Was he lying in some remote ditch somewhere unconscious and therefore unable to answer his phone? No, that wasn’t it. If he had fallen, had some kind of accident, he wouldn’t have texted me, he would have telephoned for an ambulance. No, whatever kind of help Nev needed couldn’t be provided by paramedics. Snatching up my phone and holding it in my fist, I climbed from my car and shot up the garden path toward the barn. Almost unware that I was even doing it, my eyes shot from left to right as I inspected the path, looking for any signs of a disturbance – any sign of clues. But there were none that I could see. I was beginning to get used to that.
Reaching the barn door, I pushed against it, but it was locked. I rattled the handle more in frustration than believing that I would get inside. I stepped away from the door. There were no windows for me to see through.
“Nev?” I called out in the vain hope that he was inside.
“Can I help you?” I heard someone ask.
I spun around to find an elderly woman on the path behind me. She stood propped forward, hands resting against a walking frame. I could see that she wore supports on each wrist and they travelled up her arms and beneath the sleeves of the cardigan she wore. Her hair was nothing more than a few white wispy strands that fluttered in the breeze from each side of her narrow skull. Her skin looked paper-thin and wrinkled. She wore worn looking slippers on her feet and I couldn’t help but think of Murphy.
“You must be Mrs. Bateman,” I said.
“Mavis,” she smiled sweetly, her eyes a keen blue despite her obvious old age.
“Mavis, my name is Kiera…” I started.
“So you’re Kiera Hudson,” she smiled again.
“Do you know me?” I frowned, unable to forget how Phebe and Uri had seemed to know me already during our very first meeting.
“I feel as if I do,” she said, her voice a soft croak. “Nev hasn’t been able to stop talking about you since you first met.”
I blushed.
“Oh dear, perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything,” she sighed. “I’ve embarrassed you and him probably if he ever found out. You won’t say anything, will you?”
Wearing a smile, I shook my head. “You don’t know where Nev is, do you?”
“Nev left yesterday morning. He’s gone away,” Mavis said, supporting herself against the frame.
“Away?” I said. “You don’t know where, do you?”
“Oh dear, where was it now?” she said, raising one gnarled hand to her face. I can never remember the name of it. It’s the place he likes to go and sit and look at that statue…”
“Snake Weed,” I cut in.
“Yes, dear, that’s the place,” she smiled, deep grooves frowning at the edges of her wrinkled lips. “He won’t be back until tomorrow evening. He promised to come back and go fetch some shopping from the town. He’s good like that.”
“So Nev hasn’t called you or anything?” I asked her.
“No, why, is there a problem?”
“No problem,” I smiled back at her. How could I tell her about the text message I’d received from Nev? I didn’t want to worry her. “I’m sure Nev will be back tomorrow as promised. I’ll come back then.”
“Okay, dear,” she said, as I walked slowly back along the path with her toward the cottage. “Would you like to come in for some tea and cake?”
“Perhaps some other time,” I said, not wanting to waste a moment in beginning my search for Nev. “I noticed that the bike had gone. Surely Snake Weed is too far away for Nev to have cycled there?”
“He would’ve cycled to the railway station in Havensfield – it’s only about six miles or so,” she explained.
“I know the place,” I said, suddenly remembering the room I had rented there – my chair by the window and the hundreds and hundreds of newspaper clippings stuck to the wall.
“From Havensfield he would have taken the train to the nearest town – oh what is it called?” she said, scratching her head.
“Not to worry,” I assured her, knowing that I would find the nearest railway station to Snake Weed if I needed to.
“Anyway, Nev would have cycled from there to Snake Weed, found a place to camp for the night, done some painting and what-have-you – then come back.”
“Did he say why he wanted to go?” I asked, wondering if Nev had planned to meet someone there – someone who might be able to help me find him.
“He just said he was going to clear his head,” Mavis said, eyeing me. Did she suspect that he had gone to clear his head because of me, I wondered.
“Okay,” I smiled weakly. Then offering her my hand, I added, “Well, it has been lovely making your acquaintance, Mavis.”
She closed her misshapen hand about mine. “Nev was right about you, Kiera Hudson.”
“How so?” I asked.
“You are very beautiful.”
“You’re very kind,” I blushed, letting my hand slide from hers.
Without looking back, I made my way out onto the road and back into my car. Without wasting any time, I started up the engine and set off in search of Nev.
Chapter Seven
There seemed little point in heading straight for Snake Weed. Nev might not have even reached there before heading into trouble and needing my help. Mavis had told me that Nev had left home yesterday morning and I guessed it was soon after I had left him alone in the makeshift studio. That would have given him more than enough time to reach Snake Weed if that’s where he was heading. I couldn’t be sure of that. Mavis had said that’s where he liked to go, but she hadn’t said for sure that’s the place Nev had headed for yesterday. The only way I would know was if I headed for Havensfield Railway Station. I could speak to whoever worked in the ticket office and ask if they had seen anyone fitting Nev’s description. If the ticket clerk could remember Nev, he or she might also be able to recall where he had bought a ticket to. Perhaps Nev’s bike would be in the cycle rack outside the front of the station. The railway seemed the most logical place to start in my search of Nev. I glanced down at my phone on the passenger seat. I hadn’t received another text message or call from him. Although I was worried for Nev’s safety, my skin prickled with excitement. I couldn’t help it. I had something to investigate – something to take my mind off the events of the last few days. Something to take my mind off Potter and Sophie.
I hadn’t been back to Havensfield since being pushed into this where and when and I wasn’t sure how I would feel about that. It was the place I had been raised by my parents Frank and Jessica Hudson. I had since learned that Jessica hadn’t been my real mother – that had been the lycanthrope Kathy Seth. I had never met her, and from what my brother Jack had told me about her, I was glad I hadn’t. Jack had portrayed her as a cruel and spiteful manipulator who had tricked my father and brother. She had been a killer of human children too. But I did have her bloodline in me. I knew that I was a half and half – half Vampyrus and half wolf. As far as I knew I was the only one. The Elders had believed that made me special in some way. Had they been scared of that – feared the fact that I was this one-off – a freak? They had tormented me for being a half and half and fed off my anguish. But no more. Perhaps the real trick to stop them from ever coming back – to halt them from appearing through the cracks again – was to truly accept myself for everything that I am. After all, isn’t that what brings true happiness into someone’s life – the moment that we can truly accept ourselves for what and who we are? Does it matter then what anyone else thinks of us if we are truly happy with everything that we are? Could we ever be unhappy again? Perhaps that was the lesson I had failed to learn. But was I beginning to learn that lesson now? Was that why I had finally accepted the other side of me last night as I lay in the moon
light? I had at last accepted the wolf that lurked deep within me. To do so had certainly made me feel better. It had soothed my aching joints and burning skin. I had woken feeling refreshed and brighter than I had for as long as I could remember. But it hadn’t yet stopped the ache in my heart.
Not wanting to dwell again on Potter and how he had turned Sophie, I looked front, watching the winding road snaking before me. I saw a sign for Havensfield and took the right fork in the road toward it. The temptation to drive by the rooms I once rented pricked at my mind. But I couldn’t. What would be the point? That place, however much I missed sitting in the chair by the window and watching the world pass below, was not my world anymore. I had to let go of it. I couldn’t go chasing ghosts and shadows anymore. I had done that and it had brought me nothing but misery and suffering. I had to stay strong – keep the promise that I had made to myself – that I wouldn’t go looking for my father in this world. If he was here, then he wasn’t mine. He belonged to someone else. Just like Potter now did.
The road widened ahead as I drove into Havensfield. It looked like it always had. Nothing had changed – nothing had been pushed as far as I could see. I saw the turning I would need to take if I were going to head in the direction of the rented room I had once occupied. I drove straight past. I didn’t even glance that way and headed across town to the railway station. I found a parking spot out front and pulled in. The first drops of rain had started to spatter against the windscreen. With the hood of my sweat top pulled up, I grabbed my phone from the passenger seat and climbed out of my car. I headed across the carpark to the cycle racks. There were plenty of bikes, but I couldn’t see the one Nev used. I couldn’t see one with a basket on the front – the basket he filled with groceries on his errands into the Ragged Cove for his ancient landlady, Mavis. Turning my back to the cycle rack, I made my way across the puddle-covered carpark and stepped into the ticket office. An express train thundered through the station and the floor of the Victorian ticket office shook beneath my feet. There was only one other person in line before me at the ticket office. Once they had gone, I approached the clerk. He sat red faced and miserable looking behind the pane of glass. His jowls hung heavy about his face and he had such tired looking bags under his piggy-looking eyes that they looked almost puffed shut. His nose was purple and bulbous in shape.
