Father of Lies

by Sarah England

  “We? When?”

  Silence.

  “Eve - are you saying that you, that Ruby, had a baby?”

  A far away look passed over the young woman’s face.

  “Eve - what do you mean? What do you know about a baby?”

  Eve’s look became sly, her glance flicking to one side, head tilted. After a moment she shook her head. “I’m not allowed to tell you that.”

  “Does Ruby know?”

  “We all know.”

  “I see. But you don’t know when this happened, or what became of this baby?”

  A Mona Lisa smile flirted briefly with Eve’s lips. “No.”

  “I see. Well we’ve probably done enough for now, anyway. Can you get Ruby to come back and talk to me?”

  Eve nodded but seemed vague.

  “Ruby, can you hear me? Ruby - we need to talk!”

  Ruby nodded. But she’d dipped her head. Her lower lip trembled and an age old weariness passed over her face.

  Kristy reached over and squeezed her hand. “It’s going to be okay. I’m here now and I’m going to help you if it’s the very last thing I do.”

  “I’m so tired. And I’ve got a headache - a really bad one.”

  “All right, I’ll get someone to bring something for that. I know this is all very frightening and exhausting. Let’s get you back to your room now, okay?”

  ***

  Outside, the car park glistened with evening drizzle, and Kristy hurried to the Audi. For a moment she sat in the driver’s seat gazing at raindrops scurrying diagonally across the windscreen. There was a lot of Ruby’s life missing - somewhere between being an abused child and appearing as an adult living at the old mill in Bridesmoor. This woman had been living somewhere with someone. Someone who must have noticed her switching personalities. Not to mention the fact she may have given birth. Did she go to hospital? Was there a record of this? And where on earth was that child now? Who with?

  The more the mystery was mined, the more tunnels appeared.

  After a few minutes she pulled out her ipad and typed in some notes. Then paused. Of course, the trigger had been, ‘You’re a brave girl!” Quickly she added the revelation and underscored it in red. Anyone working with Ruby was going to have to tread extremely carefully if the origins of this case were ever to be unravelled without excessive trauma to the host.

  She fired the ignition. Maybe she’d go and see Jack before her next session with Ruby. Find out a little more about this alter Eve said had kept the rest of them locked in. If this alter had now vacated, then Jack could be the only one who’d met him.

  Poor doc, though, eh?

  What had Eve meant by that? Hmm… yes, it would be good to see Jack tomorrow.

  ***

  Chapter 16

  The following Day: Hathersage, Derbyshire

  “I don’t think you should come in,” said Hannah.

  Kristy stood on the doorstep of the McGowan’s holiday cottage on the outskirts of Hathersage. The December North wind blew sleet around her ankles and she hugged her body to keep warm.

  Saturday morning. How much nicer to have stayed in bed under the soft, down duvet and slumbered on, icy rain lashing the solid stone walls of her apartment block instead of herself. Yet, here she was - tired and travel weary as the wind swept off the Pennines straight through to her spine.

  “I’ve come a long way, Hannah. Please - just a few minutes - I really need to discuss a client’s case…she’s very sick and I hear Jack’s going to be off for a while?”

  The thought crossed her mind - it was a minor miracle more of her colleagues didn’t suffer from mental collapse really: the deciphering of what was sane and what was not, being so often blurred with rationale, political correctness and the current psychological zeitgeist. Interminable questioning, ongoing research and moral relaxation, had on occasion left her reeling for her own sanity. What was right and what was wrong? Was anything real anyway? Who was to say? Who decided? Because ultimately all we have is a set of criteria for reasonable behaviour within the confines of modern society. And of course, every culture is different. Really, all any of us have, she thought, standing on Jack and Hannah’s doorstep, was a tenuous grasp on the here and now.

  All of which meant it was so important to take those holidays, ground yourself in family and friends… and be in life…just do the daily job. Yet here she was, going out on a limb to help a girl who had traumatised her doctor so badly he’d had to be suspended from duty and have the crisis team called in. They’d had to break down the door. Heavily sedate him. This man she had learned so much from, who had mentored and inspired her - a bastion of family life, of all that was good and honest and admirable.

  His wife stood looking at her, ashen and aged before her time. No make-up. Hair greying at the roots, roughly scraped back in a band, her glance darting nervously towards the staircase.

  Kristy took a deep breath, quashing the disquiet in her gut, willing herself not to look at the gloomy staircase behind Hannah, or be cowed by the banging noise from upstairs - like someone was lugging heavy furniture across a room. “Hannah, I’m sorry. I truly am. How’s he bearing up?”

  Tears welled in Hannah’s eyes. She squeezed them shut and blinked rapidly. Pushed the door a little further closed. “I can’t…”

  “Hannah - what is it? Can I help? Oh my God!”

  Hannah hesitated for a moment, came to a snap decision, then reached for her coat. Quickly she stepped outside and shut the door behind her. “Let’s walk.”

  The icy wind cut into their faces as both women dipped their heads. The cottage sat squatly in the centre of a few acres; the hardened ground coated in sparkly frost, trees cadaverous against a stormy sky. On reaching the path, which led a slippery route down to the swirling, lapping Derwent, Hannah said, “The youngest are with my mother; and the older two are with a neighbour so school isn’t affected. I honestly don’t know what we’ll do at Christmas.”

  Kristy frowned. “Things must be pretty bad if you’ve had to leave the kids?”

  Hannah picked up pace and Kristy hurried to keep up.

  “Who’s his doctor?”

  “That’s just it. No one. He was sectioned for less than a day: Isaac discharged him here, as long as I looked after him. I was a psyche nurse, you see? And Jack was completely acquiescent at that point - agreed to everything. Like everyone else, I thought it was depression, overload, a breakdown… and he just needed a rest.”

  “Is Isaac still responsible for his care?”

  She nodded. “It’s what Jack wanted. What he agreed to. But he was lying to everyone. Playing the game so he could get out of there. He reverted to his bizarre behaviour the second we got in the car.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Being disgustingly nasty about ‘the morons’ who’d treated him. Saying stuff - horrible stuff laced with blasphemy - about me, and oh honestly, Kristy, I can’t repeat it. He kept snickering to himself - I’d catch him looking at me like he thought it was all a huge joke.”

  Kristy frowned, deep in thought. “Is he not improving as the days go on? What’s he on? Anti-depressants? Sedatives…”

  Hannah pulled her coat around tighter, avoiding eye contact. “Well yes - both. He was lucid, you see - totally articulate and reasonable - so I can understand why Isaac thought it would be safe for him to come home. But now, when I think back, I saw the glitter in his eyes when he suddenly decided to change tack during the assessment - you know - what he had to do and say to get out?”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “No, well you wouldn’t. And neither did I. God, this is so hard because you’re going to think I’m bonkers…so I’ll just blurt it all out so as you know as much as I do. And because I need help and I don’t know where to turn. Okay, here goes…”

  Hannah stopped abruptly, and the two women locked expressions.

  Kristy steeled herself. Something bad was coming.

  “Where’s Becky?” said Hannah. “Do
you know?”

  Thrown a little, Kristy said, “Um…I think she was discharged from the D.R.I. a few days ago.”

  “You need to go see her as soon as you can. Look, something happened after Jack hypnotised that girl. I’m deadly serious. He couldn’t sleep. Said he kept seeing things in the dark like hooded monks with no faces, ink-black shapes crawling over the walls, pin-prick red eyes staring at him from the corner of the bedroom…”

  “All symptoms of psychosis secondary to depression…”

  “Well yes, but he was wrecked, Kristy - drained of everything that was him! It’s hard to explain. His whole personality changed. He wasn’t washing himself but still he went out to work - unshaven, stinking of sweat, with his hair all greasy. He’s normally so fastidious about hygiene. And he’d laugh at things that weren’t funny like a bad news report; and every other word was ‘fuck.’ Or worse! I’ve never heard him use language like that - ever - and certainly not in front of the kids.”

  “And it started the same day he treated Ruby? Are you sure?”

  “Yes. A hundred percent. He came home and said he felt terrible, and frankly, after he described what happened that day I could understand why. The next day, when I woke up, he looked like shit. Said he’d had a sleepless night, But then it got worse and worse and worse, and I don‘t think he’s slept since! I honestly thought it was the pressure, that he needed a holiday, maybe some anti-depressants, but then things started happening with Daisy, and Jack seemed to …”

  “With Daisy? Like what?”

  “Well I’d find her unconscious on the kitchen floor in the early hours, stone cold. She said one of her dolls - Milly-Molly - had told her to go down there; and here’s the funny thing - she kept saying, ‘Daddy knows what I mean’. I’d have put it down to this imaginary friend she says she’s got if it wasn’t for that…that look they exchanged! And the smile.”

  “It can still be explained.”

  “I wish with all my heart you were right. But I promise you this isn’t anything you can explain, Kristy. This isn’t anything you can diagnose, treat with drugs, or improve with therapy sessions. I’m afraid it’s far, far worse than anything you could possibly imagine, and I’m not sure I can keep a lid on it for much longer. I think when you actually see him you’ll understand“

  Kristy reached out to touch Hannah’s arm. “I’m so sorry, Hannah. This has been a huge strain for you - I can see how it’s worn you down - but you mustn’t give up hope.”

  Hannah stared into the dark, swirling waters of the river as they neared the edge. “Sometimes I stand here, and I can see myself floating away…face down…”

  Kristy folded Hannah into her arms and hugged her. “I think I should see him now. Let’s sort this out - it’s way too much for you! Jack needs admitting, and you need to get back to your children.”

  Hannah’s weight sank against her.

  “Come on. Before we lose our nerve.”

  Suddenly Hannah drew back, searching her face, trying, it seemed, to guage how she’d react. “Kristy, do you believe in God?”

  Kristy didn’t even blink. “No, of course not. I’m a humanist. Why?”

  Hannah pulled a tiny silver cross out from beneath her sweater. “He’s okay til he sees this, that’s all.”

  “Well you two did always argue about religion! I remember having dinner with you a few years ago and he was really cross about it.”

  “Oh it’s more than being really cross, believe me!”

  They turned to walk back to the house. “I did have an odd experience recently, though,” Kristy said. “I’ve a client who grew up in a remote village - Woodsend, near Doncaster - the same village where Jack’s hypnosis client was arrested for attempted murder. Well they have uncannily similar symptoms and so I acted on a hunch - took a drive out there, just to get a feel for the place. I thought I could see a possible pattern - a link. Anyway, this is going to sound daft - but on the drive home I felt a presence in the car with me. An old woman. And I felt she wanted me to look at her so the car would go off the road in the fog. Fear…it was like a steel band round my stomach and I thought I was going to be sick. Then the fog cleared as I headed downhill and she vanished.”

  Hannah walked on in silence.

  “I knew it sounded silly. Well anyway, I put it down to some kind of physical manifestation of evil - I do believe in negative energies being very powerful and we certainly don’t understand everything - I mean you’ve only to look at quantum physics…anyway, I’d run into a pretty hostile looking man in the village - in the woods to be precise. There was a cemetery there and some old ruins…I got badly scared, so I can imagine - you know, if you’re depressed and things are getting on top of you, and frankly, with the things we have to hear and know…Look, all I’m saying is I am sure we can help Jack out of this. If his client grew up there like mine did - well she may well have revealed some pretty black stuff!”

  The cottage was back in view.

  With linked arms they made their way up the garden path, heads bowed. “Kristy, I wish you believed in God,” Hannah said quietly. “If Jack had believed, I swear he’d have been protected from that girl. I think that whatever evil spirit resides in that village - it got into her and now it’s attached to Jack.”

  Kristy smiled sadly. “It’s only the fear within us, Hannah. Fear of the unknown. There is nothing else.”

  ***

  Inside the cosy kitchen with its chugging aga, a sheet of rain spattered the window, and a row of droplets shivered their way across the glass. The two women sipped hot tea in silence. Upstairs all was quiet. Nothing but the rattling of the keys in the front door as another gust whipped the cottage walls.

  “Are you staying the nights here too?”

  Hannah nodded, ran her hand over her bump. “I sleep in the spare room - on and off.”

  “Have you contacted anyone else, other than Isaac, for support? I know you’re a devout Catholic - have you told the local priest? It might help you.?”

  “I phoned a couple of days ago, once I’d plucked up the courage, but all the stupid man said was that my husband was in need of a rest and was I sure I wasn’t over-exaggerating things? That hormones did funny things to pregnant women, and all that baloney. I asked if he’d come and see Jack, because it’s not me who needed a priest, but my husband! And he said he would, but so far he hasn’t. I think he thinks I’m crazy. Well - if the Church doesn’t believe in possession then how will anyone else? Only in horror movies, right?”

  “Possession? Oh Hannah! No! Honestly, that really doesn’t exist, it’s just superstitious religious nonsense and …”

  Hannah’s eyes filled with despair and Kristy stopped herself from going on.

  Hannah almost laughed. “We nearly divorced over religion, Kristy. Jack only converted so we could marry in church and all the family - my side, that is - were happy. Then afterwards he told me he’d just said the words to keep the peace. It was all a sham.”

  “I thought he was brought up a Catholic?”

  “Oh no. His father’s side are all Irish Catholics but his mother’s aren’t; and his father’s a GP who doesn’t practice religion at all. No, we argued about it big time and he’d always laugh at me and shout me down - theorising about Darwin and evolution. Yet now - well if you could see his face when he sees my cross, you’d doubt everything you ever believed, I swear to God. We humans think we have all the answers and the buck stops with us, but you know we don’t really know anything. That’s what makes it all so scary - we don’t know what we’re dealing with and if we can’t even acknowledge the enemy exists, then how do we fight it?”

  Kristy frowned. “So you really think he’s possessed? With the devil or something?”

  “I don’t think it - I know it. And it’s going to take more than the local priest to sort it out. He’s too busy with coffee mornings and fund raising events. I’ll tell you though - I’m not letting the devil take his soul. He’s a good man and I’ll go to the Vatican if
I have to!”

  A blast of cold air plunged the kitchen into a freezer-like chill and both women gasped, their breath suddenly steaming on the air. The lights flickered on and off.

  “He knows what I’m saying,” said Hannah. “It was like this when I phoned the priest.”

  Overhead the heavy kitchen light fitting began to sway, and an acrid smell permeated the room like rancid drains.

  Kristy drained her mug and stood up. “This storm is creating havoc. I’ll just pop to the loo and then go and take a look at Jack. I’ll tell him I’m taking over Ruby’s case so he can take as long as he needs to get better. Then I’ll let Isaac know the situation and have him re-admitted as soon as possible: he’ll get treatment and you can have some much needed rest. Let’s get you back to those children of yours. Christmas coming up too soon…”

  At that moment a loud bang, like that of a wardrobe toppling over, crashed so heavily into the floor above, the walls shook.

  Both women ran upstairs.

  ***

  Chapter 17

  Later that evening…

  It had got to her. Kristy lay in bed with every single light on in the flat. Trying not to think about what she’d seen. Seen more than heard, which was bad enough - but those images of Jack would now be hard-wired into her brain, seared to memory, and left to haunt her dreams. Whatever had any of them done to deserve this?

  After leaving the cottage she’d immediately called the crisis team. With the benefit of hindsight, that may have been a bad move, but it had been an instinctive one - to help a person in need - to do what was logical and reasonable, and in line with everything she’d been taught. And Hannah desperately needed a break: the poor woman was six months pregnant, with small children who needed her.

  Most of all, Jack had to be moved into a safe environment. But was it the right one - amid some of the most psychically vulnerable people on earth - those who had little enough control of their conscious minds as it was? Had she now put other poor souls at risk? Oh God…what else could she have done, though?