The Considine Curse

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The Considine Curse Page 10

by Gareth P. Jones


  ‘Someone attacked Grandma,’ I say.

  ‘Ma’wolf was old. She had grown weak. Even the youngest amongst us could have killed her.’

  ‘Is that who did it? Elspeth?’

  ‘Maybe. She’s crazy enough. Or maybe it was Oberon. It could have been any of us. Personally I reckon it was Gerald. I don’t think he ever forgave her for coaxing him in the first place.’

  ‘Coaxing,’ I repeat. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘It’s how we become wolves. The wolf is coaxed out of us with five bites. Gerald was on his own with Ma’wolf for two years before she made him help her coax Oberon, then me and Amelia a year later. We all took part in Lily’s coaxing but she refused to bite when Elspeth’s turn came.’

  ‘Doesn’t it hurt?’

  ‘It hurts a lot at the time, yes. It would kill a human.’

  ‘How old were you when she did it?’

  ‘Wolf children can be coaxed as soon as they can crawl but Grandma waited until each of us was five so we were able to control it.’

  ‘That’s terrible.’

  ‘It depends on your point of view. For me, it’s an opportunity. How many people get to see a whole other side of life, to run wild at night, to feel the satisfaction of a clean kill?’

  I follow Freddie up a path surrounded by trees, making it darker. ‘So you don’t care who killed Grandma?’

  ‘The pack must protect itself.’

  The path takes us to a wire fence, behind which are three small wooden huts, each with a ramp leading up to a tiny door.

  ‘What are they?’ I ask.

  ‘Chicken coops.’

  ‘You’re going to kill a chicken?’ I say, disgusted.

  ‘No. We wait here. You’ll see.’ Freddie crouches down and I step back into the shadows.

  ‘I still don’t understand how the gene is passed down,’ I say.

  ‘Well, take me for example. Say I was to have a daughter, she would be a carrier and any of her children would have the gene. But if I had a son, the gene wouldn’t be passed on.’

  ‘And would you do that to a little baby? Will you coax Madeleine?’

  ‘Not until she’s old enough,’ says Freddie. ‘But Oberon wants to do it much sooner and we’ll have to follow him if he becomes leader.’

  ‘How do you become leader?’

  ‘The wolf with the most kills of the highest value.’

  ‘And is that Oberon?’

  ‘At the moment.’ Freddie turns his head. ‘Ah look, right on time.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Over there.’

  A brown fox prowls across the yard. Its eyes are focused on the chicken coops.

  ‘In five seconds time, not-so-Fantastic Mr Fox here is going to break into those huts and slaughter every chicken inside. There are twelve chickens in each hut and Foxy only needs one for tea but he’ll kill every single one because killing is in his nature. Providing he can do it before the farmer comes with his shotgun he’ll kill three dozen chickens tonight.’

  The thought of it horrifies me. ‘Can’t you scare him away, stop him doing it?’ I say.

  Freddie winks at me. ‘Yep.’ He takes two steps back and leaps over the fence. The fox turns to see the source of the noise but Freddie is already upon him. I hear a crunch and a snap before Freddie turns around, holding the limp, lifeless fox between his teeth. He walks back up to the fence and drops the fox at my feet. There’s a moment’s silence. The chickens have slept through the threat. ‘You did it because you wanted to kill,’ I say, unable to bring myself to look at the fox.

  ‘Needed to kill,’ corrects Freddie. ‘Just like Mr Fox, I needed to do it. Unlike him I could control what I killed. I killed one fox efficiently and painlessly and saved thirty-six harmless, innocent chickens.’

  Chapter 16

  A Knife in the Hand

  When we finally get back to the flat, I go to bed for another night of half sleep. My body feels dirty. I can smell wolf and dead fox on my skin. The smell makes me feel sick. Every time I close my eyes I can see Freddie landing on the fox and I can hear the snap of its neck. I am woken by the sound of Mum’s laughter. I get up and dress. I step out of my room to find her and Freddie sitting at the breakfast bar.

  ‘Morning, Mariel,’ she says, wiping the tears from her eyes. ‘Freddie’s been telling me what you got up to last night.’

  I catch his eye.

  ‘You should be ashamed of yourself,’ says Mum, ‘encouraging him to make fun of people like that.’

  She is talking about the game in the restaurant. It crosses my mind to tell her the truth, but what would I say? And did he tell you about turning into a werewolf and killing a fox? She would think I had lost it. Freddie seems so normal, charming Mum, making her giggle so I smile and pour myself some cereal.

  ‘I told Rob we’d help with the party preparations,’ says Mum.

  ‘What party?’ I ask.

  ‘We’re having a family get-together on the roof. Remember?’

  ‘Won’t that be cold?’ I say.

  ‘Outdoor heaters,’ says Freddie. ‘There’s a sound system up there too.’

  Mum says, ‘It’ll be nice to see the whole family again before we return home, won’t it, Mariel?’

  I don’t reply.

  ‘Can you believe it’s been a week since the funeral?’ asks Uncle Robson.

  ‘Is it Monday already?’ says Mum. ‘Doesn’t school start today?’

  ‘It’s an INSET day,’ says Freddie.

  Uncle Robson nods and says, ‘Yes, but you do have homework that needs doing for tomorrow.’

  ‘I need to entertain Mariel!’ protests Freddie.

  ‘I’m sure Mariel can keep herself entertained,’ says Uncle Robson firmly.

  ‘Can I email my friends?’ I ask. ‘I said I’d tell them what it’s like in England.’

  ‘Sure. You can use my study,’ says Uncle Robson.

  The study and computer are state of the art just like the rest of the flat. I sit down on the plush swivel chair and log into my email account. There are two emails from friends. Reading what they have been up to makes me feel homesick. I look out of the window at the cold English sky. Both my friends want to know how it is here. I hit the reply button and sit staring at the blinking cursor wondering what to say. But I feel so detached from my life back home that it’s like I don’t even know how to write to my friends so I click away from the email and find a search engine instead. I type in ‘cycles of the moon’ and find a calendar showing the shape of the moon each night. I look up the date Grandma’s body was found. The night before it shows a perfect circle. Grandma died on the night the moon was full and when my cousins were strongest and wildest. I close the page, delete my search history and go to the kitchen to help Mum.

  Freddie’s in his room doing his homework and Uncle Robson is out buying stuff for the party so it’s just the two of us.

  ‘What do you think about moving back to England for good?’ she says out of the blue.

  ‘Australia’s our home,’ I say.

  She ignores this. ‘I’d get a job and you could start school here. We’ll arrange it at the beginning of the next school year. That way it won’t be so disruptive.’

  ‘Moving to the other side of the world, away from my life, away from my friends. Isn’t that exactly what disruptive means?’

  ‘You’ll make new friends.’ Mum is concentrating on the pastry she is flattening, avoiding eye contact.

  ‘I don’t want to move,’ I say.

  ‘You’ve enjoyed getting to know your cousins, haven’t you?’

  ‘My cousins are . . .’

  ‘They’re what, Mariel?’

  ‘They’re not normal,’ I whisper in case Freddie can hear from his room.

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake. I thought we dealt with all this.’

  ‘Dealt with it?’ I exclaim. ‘No, we didn’t deal with it. We never deal with anything. Were you ever going to tell me about how Grandad died?’
/>   Mum stops what she’s doing. She looks like she is about to cry, but I don’t want her to cry because every time she does it means it’s the end of the conversation and this is something we need to talk about.

  ‘Who told you?’ she asks.

  ‘It doesn’t matter. Why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘He was terrified of her. Then suddenly he died like that. What was I to think? And how could I explain any of it to you?’

  ‘You don’t understand anything,’ I say.

  ‘Mariel, what are you doing with that knife?’

  I look down and see that I am clutching a bread knife. I must have pulled it out of the washing-up bowl but to Mum it looks like I am threatening her with it. I put the knife down.

  ‘I’m getting worried about you,’ she says quietly.

  Suddenly I need to get away from her. I turn to leave.

  ‘Mariel, where are you going? Your cousins will be here soon.’

  ‘I’m going out,’ I say. ‘You can clean up your own mess.’

  I step on to the pavement outside Uncle Robson’s place wishing I could be transported home. I want to be as far from Mum as possible. I turn corner after corner, looking down, barely noticing the people and buildings I pass. I want to lose myself in these streets. I want to disappear. My mind plays out imagined conversations with Mum, none of which end well, even though I’m doing both parts. The rhythm of my feet helps calm me and focus my thoughts. Was it a coincidence that I picked up the kitchen knife or did I reach for it? I would never harm Mum. I know that. So why do I repeat this in my head as though I need convincing that it’s true?

  I have no idea where I am. There are no shops or schools here. Just offices and businesses. Nothing looks familiar. I look behind me and wonder how I will be able to find my way back. I can’t even remember the last turn I made. A couple of men in suits walk past, talking seriously. A jogger runs the other way, huffing and puffing. I could ask someone for directions but I don’t even know what road Uncle Robson lives on.

  I sit on a wall and wonder what to do. I want to go back. Not just home to Melbourne but back to before I knew what I know. I want my old life back, where I only have to worry about normal things, like schoolwork and friendships and boys.

  ‘Need a lift?’

  I look up and see Uncle Will leaning out of a car window. Aunt Chrissie is sitting next to him at the steering wheel and there’s a baby-seat in the back with Madeleine in it.

  ‘I got lost,’ I say, relieved to see them.

  ‘This part of Chilton is a bit of a maze. Hop in. We’re on our way to the party.’

  I climb into the back seat next to Madeleine, who looks at me and gurgles.

  ‘You’re lucky we’re running late,’ says Aunt Chrissie. She smiles at me in the rear-view mirror. ‘Mind you, we’re always running late now we have this little one.’

  I offer Madeleine my finger. She grips it tightly. Aunt Chrissie starts the car.

  ‘Are you enjoying your stay with the flash uncle then?’ asks Will.

  ‘It’s a great place,’ I reply.

  ‘Well, don’t get used to all that luxury. You’re coming to stay with us next.’

  ‘Do you live in Chilton too?’

  ‘Yes, we rent an apartment on the cheap side of town, near the university.’ He smiles at Aunt Chrissie.

  They both seem a lot younger than my other aunts and uncles. I look at Madeleine, clutching my finger and staring at me with her big blue eyes. She’s a Considine. She is the child of a son. It is difficult to believe it but there is a wolf inside her, waiting to be awakened. I recall the picture of Grandma looking at her so fondly, anticipating the day she can make her one of the pack. What will happen to her now? Will the others coax the wolf out in her when she’s old enough? Is she destined to become one of them? Looking at this sweet little baby it’s difficult to imagine that she could ever lose her innocence, let alone transform into a hideous creature.

  ‘Will you stay living near the rest of the family now Grandma’s gone?’ I ask.

  ‘I don’t know,’ replies Uncle Will. ‘Now we have the money from the will it might be time to move somewhere else.’

  ‘Yes, you should move away,’ I say, aware of how odd this must sound.

  ‘Chilton’s charms haven’t won you over then?’

  ‘No, I mean you should live wherever you want to now.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  They share a puzzled look, which I pretend not to notice.

  Chapter 17

  Shattering Ice

  The lift takes us to the top floor, then we go up some stairs. There are party sounds coming from above on the roof terrace. It is a cold day but outdoor heaters are blasting out heat. Everyone is gathered there. Mum spots me and waves but doesn’t make any effort to come over and talk to me. My uncles are standing next to a bar, except for Uncle Robson who is showing Aunt Ruth some of the features of the roof. Will takes photos of everyone. Aunt Dee is talking to Aunt Celeste. My six cousins are standing together, away from their parents, deep in conversation. It reminds me of the first time I saw them, standing outside the church. Just like that day Gerald spots me first and alerts the others to my arrival.

  They turn to face me. My instinct is to run but I don’t move. Amelia dashes over to hug me. Her perfume is so strong it feels like it is burning my nostril hairs. The others reform the circle without her.

  ‘It’s so good to see you. I’ve missed you being around. What have you been up to? Isn’t Rob’s place amazing? I love the view you get up here.’ She speaks quickly. ‘Oh, and guess what? I got the part.’

  ‘The “Wow, that’s fresh” part?’ I ask.

  ‘Yes, they said I was the best person for the role. We’re filming next week. I’ve been practising a new emphasis. Listen. Wow, that’s fresh.’

  It sounds no different to me but I smile and say, ‘It’s perfect.’

  Amelia’s enthusiasm is overwhelming but I can’t bring myself to say anything else.

  ‘Have you seen they’ve even got a bar here? Imagine what this place will be like in the summer. I mean, these outdoor heaters work really well but it’ll be lovely when you can sunbathe up here. Freddie says they’re going to have parties all through the summer. It’s such a shame you won’t be around but . . .’

  ‘Amelia,’ I interrupt. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Can’t what?’

  ‘I can’t talk like this now I know about you.’

  She laughs uncomfortably. ‘Let’s not go on about all that now. Let’s have a proper catch-up. How did you like the university? I’ll probably go there after my A-levels. They’ve got an excellent drama course. I’ve decided to give acting another try now.’

  ‘I can’t pretend everything is fine and normal when it’s not.’

  ‘Not so near the others,’ she whispers. She leads me to a corner of the roof. ‘All right, so you know the truth. What of it? It doesn’t change anything.’ Her tone is different. She sounds more serious, angry even.

  ‘You change,’ I reply.

  ‘Only at night. We’re no different in the daytime.’

  ‘We’re not talking about what colour pyjamas you wear. You’re a wolf. You’re a killer. You all are.’

  Amelia throws me a dark look. ‘It’s just a genetic thing.’

  ‘Like the smell?’ I don’t say it to be cruel but it sounds terrible when I hear it come out of my mouth. ‘I’m sorry,’ I say quickly.

  ‘Yes, like that. Grandma said my condition happens sometimes when two strands combine. I suppose somewhere in Mum’s history someone must have had that too. I just wish it hadn’t happened to me. If it had been Oberon, no one would even notice, he smells so awful anyway. But that’s just because he doesn’t wash.’

  In spite of everything I laugh at this. ‘Do you like being a wolf?’ I ask.

  ‘It’s difficult to explain.’ Amelia looks down and speaks softly. ‘When you’re the wolf, no one judges you. No one tells you what to do. No o
ne tells you you’re not pretty enough or that your hair is the wrong colour or you’re too short or too tall or too fat or too skinny. No one tells you you’re too anything. You just are.’

  ‘But you are pretty and slim and you have nice hair. I don’t understand. You just got that part, didn’t you?’

  She looks directly at me for the first time. ‘Mum called the casting company and explained about my condition and how if I didn’t get the role because of the smell she would sue them for discrimination. That’s why they offered me the part.’

  ‘But all those amazing pictures you showed me?’

  ‘Every single part I go up for I’m up against girls who are just as pretty but who don’t have to drown themselves in perfume every ten minutes. It’s not like that when I’m the wolf. I can do whatever I want.’

  I feel sorry for Amelia but I can’t get the sound of the fox’s neck snapping out of my head. ‘You don’t get judged as wolves because you don’t get caught. But every night you go out and murder some poor creature.’

  ‘It’s in our nature,’ she replies.

  ‘What about Grandma? Whose nature was it in to kill her?’

  ‘Grandma tripped . . .’

  ‘And fell down the stairs,’ I say. ‘Yes, I know the story but I don’t believe it. She died during a full moon, when you were all strong and out of control. One of you killed her.’

  ‘Well, it wasn’t me.’

  ‘Who was it then?’

  ‘What does it matter?’

  ‘It matters because it’s murder.’

  ‘People have lots of words like murder and execution and assassination. For wolves, a kill is a kill. We shouldn’t be talking about this.’

  ‘Who killed Grandma? Was it Elspeth?’

  ‘Elspeth was Grandma’s favourite.’ She glances over at the others. ‘You should stay out of this. Soon you’ll go back home to your normal life. You’re lucky.’

  ‘And what about Madeleine? Is she lucky? Will you all leave her alone or will you drag her into this world of yours?

  ‘Madeleine is a Considine.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Please. It doesn’t matter.’ Amelia stands up. ‘You should forget all of this. Let’s go and join the rest of the party.’

 

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