No Heaven, No Hell

by J. T. Brindle

  When Ginny came out of the bathroom, Lianne was waiting for her. ‘I ought to tell on you,’ she whispered. ‘I ought to tell them that you and Stuart did it in the Nissen hut. I ought to tell them you were like a mad thing.’ She followed Ginny back to her room. Lying on the bed while Ginny brushed her hair she was mesmerised.

  Ginny’s smile was enigmatic. ‘If you did tell them, what would you say?’ She always brushed her hair in the same way, long slow strokes, over and over, until the hair shone like fire.

  Lianne thought very carefully about her answer. ‘I’d say you were both naked, and that he was on top of you.’

  ‘What else would you say?’

  Lianne thought again. ‘Mmm… I’d say he had these lovely long legs and they were hairy too. I’ve never seen a boy with hairy legs before.’

  ‘That’s because he’s past being a boy. Stuart Dickens is a man now.’ She bestowed a wonderful smile on her young sister. ‘What else?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She blushed a deep shade of pink. ‘I wouldn’t tell them anyway—’

  The last word was caught in her throat as Ginny flung herself at her, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her like a rag doll. ‘If you did tell them, what else would you say, bitch?’

  Lianne tried to shrug her off. ‘I would never tell!’

  ‘What if I wanted you to tell them?’

  ‘Leave me alone!’

  ‘Answer me. What if I wanted you to tell them how me and Stuart did it in the Nissen hut? What if I wanted them to know what a dirty little cow they’ve got for a daughter? That’s what you think I am, isn’t it… a dirty little cow. You’d like to tell them that if I asked you to, wouldn’t you?’

  ‘No! No! I don’t think that. I don’t.’ Terrified, she hit out. Her terror increased when her nail scored across Ginny’s cheek and drew blood. ‘I’m sorry, Ginny,’ she cried, ‘I didn’t mean it.’ But she did! She loved her… loathed her. In her deepest heart she believed there was goodness in Ginny. She also needed her, as much as she needed the life blood in her body.

  For the longest moment of her life she curled into a ball, covered her head with her arms, and waited for Ginny to punish her.

  ‘Get up!’

  Slowly she uncurled. Lifting her face to look into Ginny’s she saw with a sinking heart that she was not forgiven. The long deep scratch on Ginny’s face was raw. ‘I didn’t mean to do that.’

  ‘I want you out of my room. Now.’ Standing upright beside the bed, with her arms folded and a grim expression shaping her handsome features, Ginny seemed formidable to the cowering girl.

  There was a moment of empathy between them, a surprising intimacy, and then a hatred so foul it was like a presence in the room. Without another word Lianne scuttled away.

  When the door was closed, Ginny resumed her seat at the dresser, where she began brushing her hair, this time counting the strokes aloud: ‘One… two…’ three Sheer pleasure showed on her face. Through the mirror she glanced at the closed door and smiled, and carried on counting, contemplating the moment when Lianne would return, as she always did.

  Five minutes later, there came a knock on the door. ‘Ginny. Are you ready to talk now?’ It was Jack. He would have preferred to forget, but Liz had sent him up to demand an explanation.

  ‘It’s all right. You can come in.’ In fact, Ginny had been waiting for him. Dressed in a clean tracksuit and white trainers, she was standing by the window.

  ‘Your mother needs to know where you went,’ he said, closing the door behind him. ‘You know how she worries.’

  ‘I went into the spinney, into one of the Nissen huts. You can hide in the doorway and watch the little creatures… it’s so beautiful in the spinney.’ She saw no reason to lie.

  ‘That was a bloody stupid thing to do, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Why?’ Head high, always arrogant.

  ‘Because there have been reports of a stranger lurking about, that’s why. For all we know he could be hiding out in one of those deserted huts.’

  ‘I didn’t see any stranger.’

  ‘You’re not to go there again.’

  ‘I can’t promise that.’

  ‘I’m not asking you to promise. I’m telling you. You’re not to go there again, do you hear me?’

  ‘I hear you.’

  His whole body relaxed. ‘Good. Then we understand each other.’

  With that he slammed out and stood for a while on the landing. I don’t know who he is, he thought, but I have the feeling he’s watching us… me… my family. The sweat ran down his face. On quickened footsteps he went to the bathroom, ran a measure of cold water into the sink and dipped his face into it. Afterwards he went down to tell Liz what Ginny had said, and that he had told her she was never to go there again.

  Ginny heard her father go downstairs. She gazed out of the window at the melting snow. ‘Sorry, Father,’ she murmured. ‘You can order me to do whatever you like, but I can’t promise. Won’t promise.’

  It was midnight when Lianne crept along the landing and into Ginny’s room. ‘Ginny.’ Gently shaking her sister she knelt by the bed. ‘Ginny, wake up.’

  Dark eyes opened to stare at her. ‘I’m not asleep. What do you want?’

  A doubt. Then a smile and a request. ‘Can you really get Dave Martin to do it with me?’

  ‘If that’s what you want.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘Go away.’ Turning over, Ginny made it clear the conversation was at an end.

  ‘I want him to do it with me in the Nissen hut, just like you and Stuart.’

  Ginny made no response.

  ‘It won’t hurt, will it?’

  Still no response.

  ‘Goodnight, Ginny.’

  When the door softly closed, Ginny smiled to herself. ‘I knew you’d be back,’ she murmured. Then she began scheming as to how she might bring Dave and her sister together.

  As the night deepened, the rain started, drizzling at first and then increasing in strength until it was a downpour. The stranger had been watching the house, but now he turned up his coat collar and ran to the waiting car. Once inside he took a notepad and pen from the glove compartment and scribbled a few words. Replacing the pad, he started the engine, shifted it into gear and drove off, the rain still dripping down his neck.

  ‘There must be a better way to earn a living!’ he groaned. But he couldn’t think of one. What was more, he loved his work. Especially when he got to see two young things thrashing about on the ground, going at it like there was no tomorrow.

  4

  New York was alive and vibrant all year round, but in the cold month of February there was a strange quietness about it. Today there was a cruel wind blowing. The skies were grey and angry, and the streets unusually deserted.

  Warm and cosy in her magnificent centrally heated apartment, amongst her beautiful, expensive artefacts, Katherine Louis was desperately unhappy. ‘I can’t understand it,’ she told her devoted companion. ‘Why didn’t he reply? Even if only to tell me he never wanted to see me again… why didn’t he answer my letter?’

  Casting her sorry gaze to the plush red carpet, she fell silent, stubbornly calling up thoughts of long ago. The thoughts were not comforting. Instead they only made her feel sad, and afraid. Some days she felt old. Today she felt older still. Old and worn, and lonely for the son who had deserted her.

  Maureen sat before her, her blue Irish eyes bright with compassion. Having listened to her mistress and sympathised with her, she now had to be strong for her. ‘It’s no good making yerself miserable,’ she announced sternly. ‘He hasn’t replied to yer letter, so it’s plain as the nose on yer face that he doesn’t want anything to do with ye.’ She loathed hurting the old lady, but could see no better way. ‘Oh, look now, I don’t mean to be spiteful, ye know that, me ol’ darling, but ye can’t go on the way ye are.’

  Keeping her gaze on the carpet, the old lady shook her head. ‘I know you mean well, my dear, but I can’t put him out
of my mind.’

  ‘What has that fella, that Eddie Laing got to say for himself?’

  ‘He only told me what I suspected, that my son is getting on with his life as usual. He runs his business, and he takes care of his family, and outwardly, according to Mr Laing’s man on the scene, nothing has changed. Everything appears to be the same.’ She looked up now, and there was a glimmer of fear in her eyes. ‘Except She gulped and sat back in the chair. There was… something…’ She swivelled her gaze to the ceiling and fell silent, afraid to go on.

  Maureen leaned forward, urging, ‘What something?’ She hated half a tale.

  Katherine lowered her gaze and sitting up in the chair she revealed, in a voice so soft it was almost inaudible, ‘There was a tragedy.’ Now her gaze was harder, more intense, never leaving the other woman’s face.

  She watched as Maureen’s expression changed from curiosity to confusion, then to fear. ‘What kind of tragedy?’

  ‘A teacher by the name of Miss Warren. According to Laing, she was at the pool with a group of girls, when there was a terrible accident. She was found with her hair enmeshed in the pool filter. When they got her out, she was already drowned.’

  A moment then, while each woman pondered on the shocking news. It was Maureen who spoke next. ‘Ye say she was with a group of girls?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘If ye were given this information, it must mean that one or both of Jack’s daughters were involved?’

  ‘Just one.’

  Maureen’s eyes closed momentarily. When she opened them again it was to see Katherine’s face drained of colour. She knew then, but needed confirmation. ‘Was Virginia at the pool when this woman was drowned?’

  Katherine nodded, at the same time clenching her fists as though she might fight the monster that was once again growing in their midst.

  ‘Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’ Making the sign of the cross on herself, Maureen then clambered out of the chair. Pacing the room she nervously wiped a podgy hand across her face. ‘Ah, but we mustn’t jump to conclusions,’ she declared in a brighter voice. ‘Accidents will happen, more’s the pity. And just because he named the daughter after the grandmother, it doesn’t mean the badness was passed on as well.’

  Katherine smiled, the same slow smile that never reached her eyes, the same smile that said, Don’t tell me lies, because in my heart I know the truth.

  The silence was almost unbearable. While one woman stood, shoulders bent and a look of disbelief etched on her face, the older one remained seated, deep in thought, her bony hands clasped on her lap, and the all-knowing smile etched on her features. They remained this way for what seemed an age until, in a broken voice, Maureen said, ‘I’ve something to tell ye.’

  Katherine answered, ‘I know,’ and the smile disappeared. She never liked being lied to. Especially by someone she trusted with her very life.

  Maureen swung round, her eyes large with contrition. ‘How did ye know?’ she demanded. ‘When did ye know?’

  The smile returned. ‘Just now. The minute you realised Virginia was there when that poor woman drowned.’ Her face stiffened. ‘That was when I knew you had not posted the letter.’ Her face darkened. ‘That was unforgivable, my dear. By rights I should punish you.’

  Maureen was filled with remorse at having deceived the old lady, but she still held fast to the reason for not posting that letter. ‘I don’t want ye to go,’ she cried. ‘That’s why I didn’t post it.’

  ‘What are you afraid of?’

  ‘That yer son might not want anything to do with ye. I couldn’t bear it if he hurt ye again.’

  ‘That’s not good enough. What are you really afraid of?’

  Clutching at her breast with both hands, Maureen stepped closer. ‘All right. If ye must know… I’m frightened.’

  ‘Of what?’

  Her voice rose to hysteria. ‘You know what!’ When Katherine put up a hand to calm her, she dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘Ever since ye contacted that detective, I’ve been afraid. Afraid ye’ll wake the sleeping monsters. Afraid it might not be over. Afraid because he’s named his eldest daughter after the grandmother he idolised. At night I lie awake and I think about it… what she did… the evil things she uttered as they led her away.’ Quickly making the sign of the cross on herself again, she moaned as though in great pain. ‘Dear God above! Don’t pretend with me. Ye know why I’m frightened, because aren’t ye frightened in the very same way? Don’t ye feel nervous about the things ye might uncover? Can’t ye see with yer own eyes what ye’re doing?’

  ‘What would you have me do?’ There was no fear in Katherine’s eyes. In her heart there were no regrets. No second thoughts. No reservations. Whatever the consequences, her mind was made up.

  Maureen’s fear though filled the room like a physical presence. ‘Leave it be, I beg ye,’ she pleaded, ‘especially now we know about the accident. Ye said yerself the girl was there when the woman drowned. If he’s created his grandmother in his own daughter, there’s nothing ye can do. Let him deal with it. Don’t put yerself in danger. Please, Katherine. Ye mustn’t go.’

  The old lady stood up. Touching her hand against the other woman’s hair she answered with dignity, ‘My mind is made up.’

  She walked across the room, tall and stately, a proud but foolish woman, driven by a mother’s love, and the desperate need to cherish what was left of her family.

  ‘Please, Katherine. Will nothing change yer mind?’

  ‘Not even if heaven and hell were to fuse.’ She said the words lightly, but they did not appease the other woman.

  Maureen had to make the old lady share her own terror. ‘We’re not talking about the places we know by name,’ she argued. She paused, glancing about the room as though ensuring there was no one listening. Returning her brooding gaze to the old lady, she went on in a quiet voice, ‘We’re not talking of heaven or hell. We’re talking about the dark space between… where there is no heaven and no hell.’

  Katherine merely nodded, her features set hard. ‘My mind is made up,’ she repeated with conviction.

  On determined footsteps she made her way to the table in the hall. Here she searched through the directory and afterward scribbled a telephone number on to the notepad. That done she took up the telephone receiver and dialled the number. ‘This is Katherine Louis,’ she announced grandly. ‘I need you to book reservations on the next scheduled flight to London. Oh, and I’ll need a chauffeur-driven car on arrival at the airport. I will also require a suite at one of the top hotels.’ There was a pause while the clerk verified the details. Katherine turned her head to glance at Maureen who was standing by the door. ‘No, I’m not certain how long I need to stay.’

  ‘Don’t expect me to come with ye.’ The Irish voice was adamant.

  Katherine gave her the warmest smile before continuing with her instructions. ‘Oh, and there will be two of us… myself and a Miss Maureen Delaney.’

  Cyrus had been upstairs in his room and was on his way down. ‘She still means to go, then?’ he asked, coming face to face with Maureen.

  ‘She’s obsessed with the idea of seeing Jack again. I’ve already argued that he may not want to see her.’ Drawing a long breath through her nose, she held it awhile. When she exhaled through her mouth the words came out in an angry rush. ‘I know I’m not family, and I know I really shouldn’t interfere, but, well, can’t ye make her see sense?’

  He gave her a broad reassuring smile. ‘You’re as much family as any of us,’ he said. ‘As for Katherine, unfortunately she has always believed she knows best.’ Turning his soulful eyes towards his sister, he muttered harshly. ‘This time, though, I’m afraid she must learn the hard way.’

  5

  Liz was at the end of her tether. Rushing to the foot of the stairs she called up, ‘I won’t call you two again! If you’re not down in five minutes I’ll throw your breakfast in the bin and you can go to school hungry.’

  She waited a minute, hopi
ng her threat would bring them running. When it didn’t she hurried angrily up the stairs, stopping halfway to yell, ‘Don’t think I’m bluffing. I’ve got a hairdresser’s appointment at nine thirty. Lorraine’s the only one who can do my hair properly, and she’s only there on Monday mornings. I’m not missing her for the sake of two lazy girls who can’t get out of their beds.’

  Silence.

  ‘I mean it. I’ll throw your breakfast away.’

  Unnerving silence.

  ‘Are you coming down or what?’

  Defiant silence.

  ‘Right!’ She spun round, making her way downstairs again. ‘When your father comes home tonight, you can explain why I’ve had to throw perfectly good food away. Food that he works hard to provide.’

  In the kitchen she began clearing the table. ‘Bloody kids! Who needs them?’

  ‘That’s not a very nice thing to say.’ Virginia stood at the door, regarding her mother with dark unsmiling eyes. ‘Why didn’t you call us earlier?’

  Liz gave an impatient snort. ‘I’ve been calling you for the past hour.’

  Coming into the kitchen, Ginny sat herself at the table. ‘I’ll have coffee this morning,’ she declared sleepily. ‘Two sugars.’

  ‘Whatever you want, madam.’ Making a subservient little bow, Liz glared at her. ‘But you can damn well get it yourself. The pair of you have made me late.’ Pointing to the grill she explained, ‘I’ve done scrambled eggs and sausages. If you want anything different you’ll have to cook it.’

  ‘Then we’ll be late!’

  ‘You should have thought of that.’

  Lianne came in, her face falling when she realised there was an argument going on. ‘You’re in a bad mood, aren’t you, Mum?’

  Liz ran into the hallway and grabbed her coat. Throwing it on, she returned to the kitchen. ‘You’re right, I am in a bad mood,’ she confirmed, ‘and is it any wonder? I have two grown daughters who can’t come in of an evening when they’re asked to; can’t get up in the morning; would rather throw their used clothes on the floor than put them in the wash-basket where they belong. They have an opinion on everything from pop to politics, and think they know how best to rule the world… yet they’re too proud to ever admit they’re wrong, and bold enough to expect their breakfast put before them.’ Stretching her neck she glared at them. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, this is not a restaurant, and I am not the waitress. It’s also not a hotel where you can place a call to get you up in the morning, and then choose to ignore it.’