The Girl With Nine Lives, The Girl Who Bit Back, The Girl With Ten Claws 3 Book Boxset (The Adventures of Benedict and Blackwell Series)

by E. Earle

She turned right and started to walk up a flight of stairs. They had been painted white, the walls dirty and peeling wallpaper. Sand had been inevitably carried with people’s footsteps from the bar and outside, crunching below my feet. At the top of the stairs was a bathroom. I could see from where I was standing a few wetsuits hanging up over a green bathtub, and some boots lay disorganised on the floor. We walked down a hallway where a window looked out onto the sea. I guessed it was the sea from the noise in any case. It was pitch black outside now.

  We started climbing up yet another set of stairs, passing tired wooden doors. I could hear some people talking and laughing from behind one and from another I was sure people were having sex. Finally upon the last mini staircase, lay a hallway with another window looking out onto the back road. I knew this because I could see a four by four red truck driving up the road and suddenly wondered how the hell I was going to move my car in the morning.

  “This is your room,” the blonde girl said, opening a door in front of me, with a ‘Teardrop Surfboards’ sticker peeling off in the centre.

  The floor was wooden, dirty and sandy in places. A double bed was shoved against the wall, the covers at least looking clean if not clearly dated. I tiptoed in, the floorboards creaking. Ben had started his prompt investigation of the room and had started to purr- I’m not sure he meant to- he liked Barry even less than me, but he was a cat, and cats are curious by nature. The window that gazed out was huge with a wooden desk in front with someone’s discarded flip flop beneath. Wallpaper clung to the walls with that horrible bobby texture in a sad pattern of wilted flowers- impossible to not pick at. My eyes then fell on the last items tiredly- a woven rug, now a faded pink on the floor and an old wooden wardrobe by the door.

  I tried to keep the distaste of what I saw from showing on my face, but I think I failed. Dropping my suitcase, I shrugged my rucksack from my shoulders and groaned with the relief.

  The girl stood there awkwardly. “Do you want anything to eat?” she asked suddenly, as if glad to have something to say. “We do have a few baguettes left from this afternoon, but usually lodgers just bring their own food and cook in the communal kitchen.”

  “No thanks,” I said, the weight of my decision suddenly choking me. I was starving, why would I say no?

  “Ok,” she said, drawing out the word with a backwards step towards the door. She paused for a few moments, as if adding up that yes- I really had brought a cat with me and then fixed a wide fake smile on her face. “I’m Jessica, by the way. If you need anything- just give us a shout.”

  I nodded, not turning to face her. When I turned around she was gone, and I was glad to finally let the tears fall.

  Ben immediately jumped onto my lap, his warmth soaking into me the desperate comfort I needed. I was so exhausted. The drive here had been the longest I had ever done. It was all right for Ben- he loved car journeys. I just wished he would learn to drive so maybe I could relax and sunbathe on the dashboard for once. My mother and I had had a row before I had come. She didn’t want me to come here. It was difficult to row over Skype- I hated it. My parents lived in Australia, and I had the chance at one point to go with them, but no I had chosen to stay and prove myself. I was desperate to forge a career for myself here, determined to prove to myself that Australia wouldn’t just be somewhere I ran to when it got too tough. Besides, I would never have met Ben if I had gone, and that was something to be grateful for.

  My mother had wanted me to have nothing to do with my biological father’s property. She was angrier still that he could have afforded the place considering he hadn’t paid a penny towards me and my sister.

  I’m not sure whether his family knew about the place, but I could tell from the outraged phone call from his wife that she hadn’t. Spitefully, I didn’t want to give them a penny out of the old shack. I was determined to make something out of this for the future for my sister and I- I needed to turn this heaving negative into something good.

  I had to.

  But I was twenty four, going on twenty-five and old and ugly enough to make my own decisions. I shut the door quickly and walked towards the bed, catching myself in the mirror.

  Ok, maybe I wasn’t ugly, I thought. I had lost weight over the winter but finally looked at a healthy slim size. I found it difficult to eat when I was worried- it was a form of punishing myself I think. But I was mending myself now and had to take things slow. My hair, although soaking wet, was a dark blonde and had grown long over the Spring. I shrugged off my coat and hoody, suddenly hot and threw them on the floor. I dug into my bag for my pyjamas and face wipes and started to rub off the smeared makeup from my face.

  When Ben started meowing, I pulled out a can of whiskers and plonked it in a tupperware tub I had brought with me and poured some water into another.

  I paused again as I caught sight on my strained face in the mirror.

  My eyes are not like my mother’s or my sister’s- not their vibrant green that is so common among the Roberts family. I have my biological father’s grey ones. They stared back at me as if in mockery. I blinked it away. Although I didn’t have my mother’s colouring, I was glad I had taken after her in bone structure. I had been flattered in the past to be told I was “a bit of all right”, which made me feel good, although I at times didn’t believe it. I wished my nose was straighter, my lips fuller, my jaw line stronger. But that was on a bad day. On a good day, I could scrub up pretty well.

  The two seconds of feeling good about myself vanished with the sensation of betraying my mother. I pulled on my pyjamas and got into bed even though it was only half nine and reached for my rucksack for my phone, and unashamedly my teddy rabbit. Ben jumped up and buried himself beneath the covers, curling up against my stomach. I sighed then, not feeling as alone.

  I sent my mother a text saying I was ok and that I loved her and settled back into the pillows. That was the first night I cried myself to sleep at Craggys Peak.

  Chapter Two

  I woke the next morning with a heavy feeling. Pulling off a paw from my face and a tail from around my neck, I threw the covers off me and started to shuffle my way to the bathroom. I wished that I had an ensuite as I opened the door and blearily peeked out. I was wearing my knickers and an oversized baseball t shirt my stepdad got me from Michigan. Looking back longingly at my warm bed, Ben meowed at me and stretched across it. Return was impossible.

  I skipped across the creaking hallway and walked into the bathroom at the end of the hallway. Locking the door behind me, I curled my lip at the various toothbrushes stuck in a pot by the frosted window. Everything was painted in an old faded green colour. It was cold, and the floor seemed to suck out all the heat from my body.

  A minute later I exited and stumbled back towards my room yawning. It was then someone slammed open their door and walked right into me. I fell flat on my arse with a painful thump, my elbows smacking down on either side of me.

  “Oh shit,” said a voice.

  I looked up as a hand came down to help me and smacked it away. “Does no one look where they’re going around here?” I growled, getting to my feet.

  A man in his late twenties stood before me. I evaluated him. He was over six feet tall, wide shoulders, and tanned like everyone else. The difference was that he had a shock of black hair and very dark brown eyes. My cheeks suddenly flushed then, when I realised that he had no shirt on, just a pair of khaki shorts. I don’t know why. I have plenty of lad mates who walked around in the summer with not many clothes on. But none were as… buff as this guy. I realised then that I was staring.

  “You all right?” he asked, raising a dark eyebrow at me.

  He had dark stubble around his face making his strong jaw look even harder. I swallowed and then remembered that I was pissed off at him.

  “I’m fine,” I snapped, brushing my long hair out of my face. I walked past him then and straight into my room. I was just glad I was wearing decent underwear.

  Ben meowed in amusement when I told him
what had happened.

  I dressed in a pair of leggings and an oversized grey t shirt as I came downstairs. I had slapped on a bit of makeup to cheer myself up- a bit of mascara and lippie, and had tied my hair up in a messy top knot. My Nan always said makeup did wonders for your confidence. Music was playing, some country tune or whatever and I went to the bar. I was glad to find that they were serving breakfast and ordered a full English, to cheer myself up.

  I had promised Ben he could have my bacon, so I made sure I asked for extra rashers. Ben seemed to light up the place as he walked through. The curiosity he spiked in people was instantaneous. Despite this journey and this place being something that made my insides cringe in discomfort, Ben soothed my worries. It almost made me feel guilty, how easily he made me feel good.

  “I’ll need to talk to someone who’s in charge,” I said to the girl behind the bar as I scratched Ben behind his ears. It wasn’t the girl Jessica from yesterday. This girl was once again blonde, but slightly curvy and short. She looked confused for a second, staring from me to Ben, to back to me. I almost rolled my eyes. Almost.

  “Is there something wrong?” she asked, looking worried.

  “No, I’m Ellena Blackwell,” I said as if it would explain everything. “I called a few days ago to say I was coming.”

  Still, no look of recognition on her face.

  “I’m the new owner,” I said.

  Immediate panic rushed into her face. She looked around herself, as if searching for help. “Erm, ok, I’ll get Brynn to come over and see you. He sorts out pretty much everything that goes on here.” She smiled then, nervously, as if eager for me to walk away and take my negative energy with me.

  I was all too happy to.

  “Are we allowed cats in here?” I heard her murmur as I turned from the bar.

  “Yes,” I snapped, harsher than I meant, picking up Ben. “We are now.”

  I sat outside. It was slightly chilly, but I’d brought out my woolly cardigan with me. It was shapeless, brown, with wooden buttons, but I loved it. I shrugged into it, breathing in my mother’s perfume. My mother did that sometimes when I travelled somewhere, or when she knew she was leaving for Australia. She would pick an item of clothing she knew was a comfort item to me and spray it with her Chanel perfume.

  It worked. It always made me feel good.

  I sat down at the furthest picnic bench away from the house and looked out to the sea, Ben curling up in my lap. A moment’s peace reached my mind and pacified my body as I looked out to the crashing waves, white foam spraying against the rocks. It was banished almost instantly as I thought of all the trouble I had caused at home coming here. All the hurt, all the anger.

  “Don’t think about it,” meowed Ben quietly. “You’re doing the right thing.”

  “Am I?” I said sadly, stroking his pale gold coat.

  “You wouldn’t have come here if you felt that you didn’t need to.” His sudden purring made me smile as I got his favourite place behind his ear near his cheek. “Don’t question things so much. Things will play their course. You’ve always got me, Ellena.”

  I nodded, pushing back tears. He always said the right things. He was right- he usually was, although I would never tell him that. I gritted my teeth together. I had to do it. Although my sister and I had nothing to do with my biological father, it was something I needed to do. I found it difficult that my family couldn’t understand that. He had left this shack to me as some remnant of guilt, I felt. Something to leave me and my sister behind. I didn’t know whether I would have preferred the money to be honest, but I supposed I would have to get a surveyor out. See what the place was worth if I decided to sell it.

  But why had he left it to me?

  I looked back at the building and seriously doubted it being of any value. Although it looked like the perfect set for a hammer horror film, it was probably falling to pieces. Regrettably, I had to admit its quirkiness struck a nice chord with me. I sighed and wondered how long my breakfast would be.

  Not long apparently.

  I looked up to see a guy walking down the steps with a tray. I guessed it was my breakfast- no one else was about the garden. As he came closer, I realised that it was the guy that had bumped into me this morning.

  “All right?” he said as way of greeting, as he placed the tray in front of me.

  Ben jumped onto the table immediately, sniffing my food. He wouldn’t take anything without my say so though- he had manners.

  The food looked so good to my empty stomach that I was able to tear my eyes away from him for a second.

  “Hi,” I said, finally watching him sit down in front of me. My alarm bells started ringing. I hate it when people watch me eat. I stared at my full english, wishing he would go away. Ben sat down expectantly and meowed.

  “Go on then,” I sighed, gesturing to my plate. “Take it.”

  Ben delicately nipped my bacon free from mushrooms and started to nibble it down.

  The guy was staring at Ben in fascination. He had a white t shirt on now with some blue wave motif on it. It looked crude, as if someone had done it by hand. I raised both eyebrows to myself as I slid the napkin from the cutlery. I glanced at him as I reached for the salt and pepper, wondering if he was getting the hint. Jeez, these Devon people were weird. He was staring at me expectantly.

  “I’m Brynn O’Connell,” he said then, not mentioning anything about Ben, as if he saw ginger cats visiting the place all the time.

  It clicked, and I put the cutlery back down. “Ah, right…”

  I noticed then that his jaw had clenched. He looked braced for bad news for some reason. This confused me. But then I realised that I was the new owner of Craggys Point. It was up to me what I would do with it.

  “Marshall said that you’d be coming up,” he said, as if offering a start of conversation.

  I nodded slightly, not knowing where to begin. “I, err… well, I was left this place a month ago.” I glanced back at that hunk of brick and wood in sudden hate. “In Barry’s will.”

  Brynn nodded, taking it in. “Yeah, he never came down to visit the place. His mate, Marshall managed it all.” He stopped then, as if trying to be tactful. “But then when Barry…left, he left as well. So I took over as acting manager.”

  “Right.” I really didn’t know where to go with this. “Is the place making money?”

  Brynn frowned, looking suddenly uncomfortable. “There’s potential,” he offered.

  I sighed then, feeling all of my hopes drift away. This was going to be too hard. “People reckon I should sell the place,” I said slowly. “What do you think?”

  He tilted his head in thought. “It could be really great here,” he said, enthusiasm suddenly bursting in his voice. “But I’ve just been running lessons down on the bay surfing. That’s what I know. I take my pay cheque at the end of the week like everybody else.”

  I nodded, pulling my eyes away from his face. “Ok. I think I’ll have a word with the accountant and see what the situation is.”

  Brynn stood then, looking uncomfortable. “Enjoy your breakfast,” he finally said. Then, as if unable to hold it back any longer, he quickly gave Ben a tickle under the chin and was off.

  I stared after him as he walked away, knowing that he had been about to say something else. Sighing, I dug my fork into a lovely sausage and took a bite. It was now cold.

  The meeting with the accountant hadn’t gone so well either. He came later on that day as I inspected the building. It needed repainting mostly I thought. New toilets, a new bathroom upstairs. New wiring, new gas fitting. New roof. Ok, and maybe a new communal kitchen- plus the kitchen downstairs needed updating. It was a long list, but despite everything, I found myself getting excited.

  But then reality hit. Money was needed to do all of this.

  It’s ok, I thought. The accountant will tell me how much the place is earning…

  The accountant was a skinny old man in a black suit, two sizes too big. He had thick glas
ses on that made his eyes look bug-like. He carried a scratched old briefcase full of documents on Craggys, which I was surprised to see in pristine order. I wondered if he had ironed them before coming out.

  “Now, Miss Blackwell,” he said, the K on my name coming out sharp, “I hope you understand that under all the recent circumstances…”

  His voice went on but for some reason it washed over me. I wasn’t hearing him. Ben’s purring was all I could hear, mixing in with the sound of the seagulls, the wind, and the sea. I was thinking about all the things I would do to the place. Getting people in. I could talk to Brynn about those lessons. Ben could catch mice…

  “…Debt is quite sufficient-”

  I snapped out of it. “What? Debt? What debt?” I sat up on the bench, where I had had my breakfast not two hours ago. A pot of tea now sat in front of me, courtesy of the girl this morning whose name I had learnt was Charlotte.

  The accountant, Mr Cheswick’s giant eyebrows furrowed over his eyes. “Did your father not tell you of the finances?” he asked, fumbling in his case for more papers.

  “Please don’t call him that,” I said before I could stop myself.

  He glanced up at me in surprise from beneath his glasses.

  I clenched my jaw and offered a gritted smile. “We didn’t ever speak,” I said coldly, feeling my nails dig into my palms of their own accord. “I hadn’t seen him for nearly ten years.”

  Cheswick stared at me in disbelief and then slowly took off his glasses, looking sad and awkward. “Well, I don’t know how to tell you this, other than in straight terms, Miss Blackwell.” Again, that hard K. “Craggy Point is in debt of over sixty thousand pounds.”

  I thought I was going to fall off the bench, Ben’s claws suddenly clenching into my thighs, dragging me back. Then, for a second, I thought he had said sixty quid. I almost laughed. The second passed, and suddenly my nails were no longer gripping my palms, but now gripping wood. “What are you on about?” I breathed, blinking fast.