by Jave Kavfi
"Oh ... Boris, yes, he's outside in the courtyard, lapping up the sun. You were saying?"
"Was I?"
"About the Mortimer family."
"My dear, it's a frightfully sad story. I'll tell you while you make my drink. A coffee – I'm feeling reckless today."
"Well, then," Mavis says, settling down on a comfortable chair. "Curtis Mortimer was a successful sculptor when he moved into Ryden with his then wife – the house had been in his family for three generations, but he had only come into full possession of it after a relative's death. A touch bohemian, but respectable enough. They had two little girls in a row, but sadly the mother – a delicate creature – died due to complications giving birth. Curtis stepped up to the mark and brought the girls up on his own, with the help of a nanny. And what beauties those girls were. Little peas in a pod and with such lovely manners. Oh, but the family were filled with such tragedy and heartbreak. He remarried many years after his wife's death. A girl less than half his age, but ... let us just say of a fragile mental constitution – she appeared to be in a near constant state of confusion. I'm afraid she died by her own hand. Some months after that, the terrible events of the annual picnic occurred. Oh, I think I might have one of your cakes – they look quite delicious."
Ana fetches the cake, serves a customer and leans on the side flap of the counter to listen to the rest of the story.
"Where was I? Yes, held every year there, by long tradition, Ryden being one of the largest properties in the area. We were all invited, of course. A lovely day and what fun... But the sky darkened, the heavens opened and a state of chaos ensued as we all ran for cover. Rain hammering and the marquees all a-flap, but much merriment despite our soaking." She looks towards the children. "I shall lower my voice. This part is not for young ears. The dreadful end to that day.
"It became clear Evangeline was not present and it appeared no-one had set eyes on her for at least an hour. The house and tents were checked, her name was called, and a search of the immediate vicinity was made. No panic at that point, as the grounds are extensive and she could have taken a walk, on what, until the deluge, had been a delightful sunny day. But no sign of the girl anywhere. I recall a sudden chill, the sky darkening yet further and the ominous sound of thunder, as the search parties went out to look for the little girl. Thirteen then, but small for her age and looking no more than a child.
"I shall never forget the sight that greeted us as we reached the lake. Bullets of rain drumming off the surface, the overhanging trees battered by the wind. The overturned rowboat adrift and there in the middle, was the girl – face down, the white of her dress like a downed sail, and her hair all a-float. The men going in for a rescue, but it was all far too late. Poor Evangeline was drowned. Her sister wailing, her father distraught beyond measure. Alas, no attempts at resuscitation could be successful. Do you know, I'm toying with the idea of another cake..."
"Please go on," Ana says with barely concealed impatience as she hands Mavis the cake. "How did she drown? Was there anything suspicious about it?"
"Not at all. Young Dean's father was in attendance and immediately took charge of the situation – he was officer in charge of our local police station at the time. Yes, nothing untoward could be found. She may have stood up in the boat for some reason, and it toppled. A week or so before her sad demise she had fractured an arm by falling from a tree and her cast would have prevented her from swimming. What is that dreadful racket?" she glances towards the sound of drilling coming through the ceiling.
"Caden's doing some work in the kitchen. It was a terrible mess when we moved in. Has to put a shelf up. He'll only be a few minutes with the drill."
Mavis is gathering her things. "I must say it's rather unusual for a girl to set up house with her male cousin. I'm not saying there has been talk, but you know how some people are. Not me, of course, but those with that sort of mind."
"We're a close family. So, the–"
"Such a handsome young man and you two being exactly the same age. Your uncle's son, you said? Would that be on your mother or father's side?"
Ana has to rack her brain to recall what lies she has been telling about her 'cousin'. "My fathers. Why would Evangeline be out on the lake alone? Did the police carry out a full investigation?"
"Oh, I'm sure they did. Must dash. My life is one frantic whirl of social activity."
As Mavis leaves, Ana catches sight of a little boy looking through the window. It's a warm day, but he's wrapped up in a heavy jacket, with the hood up. She gives him a smile and he lifts his fingers in a wave before he is led away by a man. Ana gets a shiver and does not know why.
Chapter 3
He's looking at himself in the mirror as he does up his tie. Sarah is still on the bed, watching his reflection. Bad mistake this, he can't think what possessed him. Several times now, despite him being determined the first time was the last. Sex with the daughter of a patient. Would it matter that she is not his patient? That she is around his age and not some vulnerable girl? Perhaps, but still unethical. She opens her mouth and he is finished. Struck off, career ruined. Everything lost. Is that what he wants? Intentional self-destruct?
"Come back to bed," she is saying. "There's plenty of time before evening surgery."
Her saying that – evening surgery – makes the reality of the situation kick in. Risking everything for this? He's not even that attracted to her. A premature mid-life crisis? A brief escape from the realities of his existence? His longings are no different from all the sad bastards who trail into his surgery. Worn down by life, youthful promise gone. Peaked in his early twenties, ten years later he's ... he's not sure what he is. But, no, this is not worth it. It's no solution. If he was searching for something, it wasn't this.
"I need to go. We'll make this the last time, Sarah. We shouldn't–"
"Last time? Don't be silly, Mark. Of course it's not the last time. You and me are perfect together." She scrambles off the bed, pulling a sheet with her. "Don't worry, Ruby need never know. I'm very discreet." A tinkling laugh and he gets a slight whiff of stale alcohol from her breath. Noticed that before, not that he's ever kissed her – it seemed too intimate. It's all he can do to stop himself laughing out loud at that thought. Christ, what was he thinking...
Clattering down the stairs, out the front door and breathing clean fresh air. Familiar faces, most of them his patients. Nods and smiles and he's making the effort to be what they expect. The trusted town doctor with a busy, successful practice. The happy family man. No, no, it's all wrong. He could do it now. Not even pack. No explanations. Take as much cash as is available from his current account. Get in his car and keep driving. Traumatise his kids. Leave them scarred for life by his actions.
Someone is calling his name. A voice from the past and, miraculously, he recognises it instantly. Lucinda Mortimer. Was this what this new crisis was about? That he'd heard she had returned and it all came tumbling back? Those days of heavy want and exhilaration. But not for her.
"Lucinda, how wonderful to see you. I heard you were back," he says, and is amazed at the calmness of his voice. Professional training. Her, looking as lovely as she did back then. A man who is being introduced as her husband – big and nondescript. Two children. All the adults talking. This is it, he's thinking. What I've been waiting for – this is where my life changes. Lucinda back and all the foul business at Ryden will be coming out after all these years.
*
"Poor kid," Caden is saying to Ana, as they finish their meal. "I can't believe the police didn't investigate it more. Her out on the lake alone. She'd get in a boat with a broken arm – how was she going to row the damn thing? It's not right."
"You think she was murdered?"
He shrugs. "Who knows? And how could we ever tell after all this time? She wants something, though, obviously. I'll try to find out what – but only because she seems determined to pull me in by getting to you. And if she does want to come through, there's nothing I can d
o – I'm not a channeler."
"But won't she know if she was murdered and who did it? She wants to tell you, but can't for some reason?"
"Maybe. But, as far as I can work out, some of the dead have no memory of their last days or the events leading up to their death. That might be the case with her. She wants me to find out for her. Or ... I don't know, to be honest." He gets up and takes his plate to the sink "That thing on tonight? The book signing?"
"Mmm..."
"So the shop will be busy enough for me to leave you for an hour or so? I'm thinking of going out there. Try to find out what she wants."
"It'll be pretty mobbed in here, but do you have to? Just the thought of it. You out there alone with a drowned girl."
"The dead speak to me all the time, so it's not like I'm going to go into shock at seeing her. But, yeah, I get what you're saying ... it is pretty freaky. And Dean asking questions about me – now that's got me worried. I knew he was watching us. If he runs a check, he won't find any criminal activities, but he could find something a lot worse."
"That's what I was thinking. It's scary. And imagine if they searched this place, for some reason, and found the guns. It's all your fault for having sex with Holly. He's been in love with her since way back."
"Yeah, well, how was I to know that? And it might be a good idea for us to keep an eye on him, seeing he's susceptible to turning. Just don't be alone with him at any point – Holly seems to be safe with him, but she's not their target. And keep in mind it was only a couple of weeks ago that I took his doppelganger's head off with a shovel. In fact, if the 'real' him doesn't stay out of my business, I can't guarantee he won't get the same treatment."
"Caden..."
"What? I'm joking. Sort of."
She narrows her eyes at him. "For a sweet guy – and you are sometimes – you can be extremely violent."
"Like I don't need to be? You think we should sit about and allow a bunch of ghouls to make mincemeat out of us? Which reminds me – we're getting too lapse with security. Just because nothing has happened for a while, doesn't mean it's over. This is a lull, and I'm not sure why it's happening. Everything feels off – like something big is about to happen, but we don't know what it is yet."
"Well, that's reassuring..."
"Sorry. I'll shut up. I don't know what's wrong with me. What you were saying one time – about having that sense of being in the wrong place and having your old life peeled away. I get that too. I'm getting on with things and then it hits me. What am I doing here? How did my life get like this?"
"You too? But I suppose you would."
"Yep, it's something when it gets to me – let's face it, I'm not what you'd call such a deep thinker." He bends down to where Boris is curling around his legs. "Someone might be looking for this little guy. God only knows where Eudora got him."
Ana leaps out of her chair and kneels beside Boris. "Don't say that. I rescued him from Trewairing. He's ours now, I couldn't part with him. The vet says he's not microchipped, so..." She strokes Boris' fur. "I didn't even think of it – that he might belong to someone else."
"Well, don't. I shouldn't have mentioned it." He lightly hits his knuckles under her chin. "Seriously, don't worry about it. He was probably a stray."
"I worry about everything. About those creatures coming back, that even the most normal-looking person is going to transform into something murderous, that Gideon and Hetty have been captured..."
"Whoa..." He helps her to her feet. "Don't, just don't. We agreed. Take each day as it comes, deal with one thing at a time and don't think too far ahead. Me and my big mouth. All you need to concentrate on now is the baby. And everything's okay there – right?"
She's slowly nodding her head. "Yes. I haven't felt it move yet, but it's a bit early for that. I've got my big appointment coming up soon and I'll get a scan and–"
"What's wrong? Hey..." Her head's down. He brushes her hair out of the way and bends to see her face. "No problems?"
"I was wondering..." She's biting her lip. Closes her eyes and says, "About Jarek. No dreaming means you don't see him. That's why you got in contact with me in the first place – because Jarek asked you to look after me. Now you don't see him and it makes him seem more lost."
He gives her a shoulder hug. "The dreams will come back, I know it." They have to. It's the only way he'll find Mia again, and this – everything – is what it is all about. His only purpose in going on. To be with the girl he loves.
*
Most people are stupid and that's a fact. They don't realise how vulnerable they are, especially inside their home. He can usually think of at least a dozen ways of getting in, and at the most basic level, all it takes is a knock on the door. Most locks are flimsy, but even the more 'sturdy' ones are a walkover. Upstairs windows left open, access a cinch. Yup, no problem. They can't close their curtains? It's like they want people to see everything they're doing. On the first or second floor – no problem to go up a height and get a good eyeful. You see it all up there, say in a tree, on a wall or the roof of a shed. Shaving off their body hair, humping, pleasuring themselves – now that's the best one. So, no privacy anywhere, but the fools don't know that.
Once your home's had an uninvited guest and you get to know about it, it's never the same again. Men feel humiliated, women feel violated. It happens more than once and the mind is damaged. Psychologically speaking, you're fucked.
Out here with not a neighbour is the easiest of all. Scream until you're hoarse and there's not a body coming to save you. This time he's not breaking in. A couple of raps on the door and a bit of waiting. Nelson is nicely silent. Well-trained.
A wavering figure behind the glass panel. Frail shaky old voice. "Who's there?"
He doesn't answer. Nothing like a bit of silence. He should know that.
Finally, the door is pulled open.
"Hello father. I'm back."
Chapter 4
Caden is at the lake. He's almost expecting to see the floating body of Evangeline, in her white dress, and her hair all spread out like Mavis said. Came straight here and not the house, looking for ... what, he does not know. In the daylight and under the sun, the lake might look safe and beautiful, but not now in the murky half dark. Down paths and under trees and you enter a scene that seems to be from a lost world. Hidden away, enclosed by overgrown woodland, heavy drooping branches dropping just above water level. Not shimmering. Dull and grey and still.
He messed up. Kicking himself about revealing he's scared. Supposed to be protecting Ana and what he did was make her feel more vulnerable. She wishes Gertie was here, because she makes her feel safer. Him too, though he wasn't stupid enough to say that. Why couldn't they – whoever the hell 'they' are – get someone better than him to protect a pregnant girl who is being hounded by ... whatever they are. He knows nothing, not even what he is anymore. She needs a bodyguard and she gets someone who is as frightened as her. And then mentioning Boris and how he really belongs to someone else. Brilliant. She loves that cat. Shit, what an imbecile. He needs to be stronger – or at least act as if he is.
There's a light just went on in one of two small cottages perched on a hilly area overlooking the lake. They look too derelict to be occupied.
Someone's here.
On the path, behind the trees. Stepping forward out of the shadows. Not the girl. A woman, older. Not dead. Leaning on a walking stick, but very much alive.
"What are you doing here?" she says. There's something wrong with her eyes. Like the irises are set too high. They might be two different colours.
"I'm working here. We're clearing the grounds before the owners move in."
"Not doing a very good job of it, are you?" She appears to be looking above and behind him.
"I've just started. It will be ready in time."
"A child will be here. It must be made safe." Her fingers are pulling on a crucifix at her neck.
"It will be." Who the hell is she anyway? He's been brought up to
be respectful to his elders, but...
"Get it done. There are too many hazards. He could be in danger. The child is sick. You understand that?"
He didn't know but is nodding.
"It is not comfort he needs, but protection." She's walking away, back the way she came.
The sound of laughter, as he cuts through shrubbery on his way to the house. A bunch of kids, all over his car.
"Hey – what the hell do you think you're doing?" he shouts as he runs towards them. Little shits...
All the usual crap. High-pitched exaggerated giggles from the girls, strutting, posturing insults from the guys. He's a motherfucker, an asshole, a whatever. Doesn't care, just wants them off his car. Which is a wreck, an embarrassment even, but 'lucky' in the sense he's never been pulled over by the cops. No licence, no tax, no insurance, no ownership papers. Him without ID and for most purposes not existing at all. Explain that. No, not possible.
Most pull away, but one is standing his ground. He might be the 'leader' or a want-to-be one. Older than the rest. Maybe near his own age. Still with the verbal abuse and, yep, this idiot is about the get in his face.
"Seriously, just fuck off, man," he says. "I don't have time for this." He doesn't. He wants to check inside the house. The girl might be there. Needs to get back to Ana, because he hates to leave her alone.
The guy – who looks like a weasel and is probably highly pissed at that fact – gobs spit at him and spews out another torrent of abuse. Was he ever like this? No. They ran riot in the castle grounds and beat the crap out of each other at times, but were generally respectful of other people's right to live in peace.
"You're embarrassing yourself," he says quietly. A glint of steel and he's not even surprised the little bastard has pulled a knife. Stupid but dangerous. The girls are screaming, the guys are shouting and, crazy as it seems, he knows situations like this can end in a loss of life. Just like that, for no reason at all. He's never tried to disarm someone with a knife, but instinctively knows it can finish in blood, either way it goes. He has a machete and his own knife, but to cut things short he pulls out his gun. Points it at Knife Boy, who looks like he's about to crap himself, lets out a wail and takes off at a run. All running now, howling, falling over themselves to get away from the possibility of taking a bullet to the head. Shouting – he's got a fucking gun.
