by A. Z. Green
A black face. Intense eyes. Dark, bottomless, unfathomable.
Human? No. Yes. Maybe? She didn’t know. She sucked in a sharp breath and glared at herself in the mirror. “You listen to me now,” she commanded the reflection in a harsh but quiet voice. “You need to get your shit together right now, or I will gladly check your crazy arse into the nearest mental institution, got it?” She then realized the irony that came with talking to herself and her stare faltered as she fluttered her eyelids. She then gazed intensely ahead, not seeing what was in front of her. “Great,” she sighed in irritation. “Just, great.”
She bent down collecting the lipsticks, blusher and mascara that had escaped the make-up bag and stuffed them back in. She zipped it up roughly and chucked it into her handbag. Her mobile caught her attention.
Two missed calls, she read, tapping the screen to unlock it. Lisa. She dialled and waited.
Lisa answered on the third ring. That was slow for her.“Hey chick, whassup?”
Jaz smiled, already feeling a little better. “Hi Lis, you busy?”
“Nope just watching The Kardashians.”
“Oh god,” Jaz scoffed, rolling her eyes.
“Hey, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it.”
“I’d rather gouge out my eyeballs with a spoon.”
Lisa whistled out a sharp breath as she cringed. “Ouch. And gross.”
Jaz grinned. “Sorry I didn’t call you back. Was on the road, didn’t feel it vibrate.”
“S’ok. So where are you now?” Lisa asked through a mouthful of crisps.
“Dunno. Bout halfway. My aunt says we’ve got about another two hours before we get there.”
“God, where are you going? Isle of White?” Lisa joked.
Jaz snickered. “Somewhere before Scotland. No idea. It’s all countryside that’s all I know. Some weird name I can’t remember.”
“It only takes me about four hours to go to Scotland to see Danny.”
Danny was her boyfriend. He was Scottish, -Lisa was a sucker for the accent- and his family lived there. He’d spend time there and when Lisa was free, she’d join him or sometimes they’d go together.
Jaz felt a slight pang of guilt in her chest. Her best friend was so happy yet she couldn’t help feeling a little jealous. She wanted what Lisa had but then Lisa was envious of things she had too.
People want what they don’t or can’t have. It’s a fact of life.
She shrugged the feeling off knowing most of it was being brought on by her bad mood. Of course she was happy for her friend. She deserved all the happiness in the world. Only nasty bitches were jealous and bitter about other people’s happiness. She was a lot of things but a bitter, jealous, nasty bitch wasn’t one of them.
She realized she'd paused so jumped in to say, “Yeah I know. There was a lot of traffic on the motorway. Came out of nowhere after about half an hour on it. Took us a while to get off a junction. The driver took a detour.”
“The driver?” Lisa’s voice rose with interest. If it was Ellie, she would have been more curious as to why her aunt would hire a driver. Or if he was her own private, everyday chauffeur. Lisa was a bit cruder than that. Jaz could hear the implication in her voice and knew what her next line would be. “Is he hot?”
Predictable, she thought dryly. “No. He’s old and creepy.”
“How old are we talking?”
Jaz rolled her eyes. “I dunno, like pushing thirty? Maybe thirty-five.”
“That’s not old-”
“You’re forgetting I said creepy.”
“Why, has he tried to stroke your knee through the side of his seat?”
Jaz blushed. “No!” she hissed trying not to raise her voice from a whisper. Lisa laughed loudly on the other end. “Don’t be so disgusting.”
“Oh you love it really. So what then?”
“Nothing, Lis. Forget I said it.”
“Oh come on, don’t be like that.”
Jaz exhaled loudly. Lisa waited patiently. “I don’t know, he’s just a little weird. Something about him creeps me out. I dunno, maybe it’s just me,” Jaz said shrugging.
“Probably. But, you’ll be there in two hours anyway and then you won’t have to see him ever again.”
“Yeah, unless he’s gonna be driving us back.”
“Hmmm. Maybe convince your aunt to get someone else?”
“I think he’s her regular driver.”
“Is she loaded or something?”
Jaz thought about it for a second. “I don’t know. I don’t think she’s like Bill Gates loaded but she’s definitely more well-off than my parents. And maybe they hired him today because my aunt didn’t want to drive. I don’t think my uncle wanted to either. It must be tiring.”
“Oh god yeah. I nearly fell asleep at the wheel one time. So boring on the motorway.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Look, call me when you get there and stay clear of the driver. If he tries anything, drop kick his ass.” Lisa had actually taught Jaz many martial arts techniques she’d learnt from her after school classes.
Jaz was glad she’d listened even if she’d gotten a few bruises from all the times she’d played victim or attacker. “Will do.” She hung up and stared squarely at the mirror. The feeling of loneliness crept up on her as she put her mobile back in her bag. She missed her friends already. She tried to ignore it.
The frightening image that only minutes before had shocked her brain, appeared back in her mind’s eye like a pesky fly. She wafted the invisible fly away, forcing herself to ignore it too.
Feigning indifference, she fluffed her hair – on a side-thought wondering why she was even bothering- No one to impress anyway- and left the bathroom, leaving behind the strange image, her fear and her low-confidence that infected her state of mind. All the things she didn’t let anyone else see.
She put on a confident, carefree, tough façade and stepped out into the sunlight.
*
“Where is it?” he asked in a gruff voice.
Jaz’s aunt tapped the bottle of orange juice. He clenched his jaw distastefully.
“Oh don’t look at me like that. You knew what was going to happen. How do you expect this plan to work?”
He leant against the car, gazing down the way towards the door marked with a ‘ladies’ sign. “I don’t like it.”
“It doesn’t matter whether you like it or not. It has to be done. I don’t like it anymore than you do,” she retorted unhappily.
He shifted his feet; the sound of his expensive black, pointed Wing Cap shoes scraping against concrete. “Will it be enough time?”
“Yes. The effects should begin to kick in within the hour, maybe longer. My bet is on longer considering her bloodline.” The driver mulled over this. He didn’t like it one bit but he was no fool. It had to be this way. “Just take it easy and drive at the speed limit. She has no reason to suspect anything,” she instructed, glancing into the distance.
“You do know that she’ll probably never forgive us for this?”
Erica shot him an acidic look with her stone, grey-green eyes. “I’m willing to take that risk,” she retorted stiffly. “Are you?”
He gazed at her coolly in response.
She then smoothed down her sandy coloured bun with one hand and put the carrier bag of snacks and sandwiches on the back seat. She left the back door open –on her niece’s side- and waited for a short moment before asking, “Where is she?”
Right on cue, her niece came strutting out of the toilets. Driver couldn’t look at her anymore than a second as the weight of what was about to happen hit home. He got straight into the car and placed his hands heavily on the steering wheel. He didn’t turn his head, keeping it fixed straight ahead. “You ready?” Aunt Erica called to her.
He listened to the sounds of Jaz’s approaching steps crunching against the stones scattered randomly on the tarmac. He closed his eyes. Those insignificant little sounds made his heart jump up to his
throat. He swallowed hard; his throat was so dry the lump got stuck there.
“Yep.” The car jolted a little as she jumped inside. She shut the door and let out a sigh that was loud to his acute hearing.
His body wanted to sprint out of the car as fast as he could, yet at the same time, he felt like he couldn’t bear to be away from her. It was a strange and new feeling that tore at his insides. Unlike anything he’d ever felt before.
He held his breath as the others slid into their seats.
After mentally demanding himself to ‘Get a grip’, he turned on the engine, exhaled, and set off.
~Chapter 7- Dupe~
Saturday May 7th, 2011, 1:04 p.m
“Egg and cress, that would be yours darling.” Aunt Erica handed the sandwich packet to Uncle Bo.
He took it without turning round.“Thank you dear.”
“I’m the chicken salad. I got you a ploughman’s. I remember you having that at some point.”
Jaz took it thankfully. She leaned her back against her door and gazed at her aunt wonderingly. “You have a really good memory,” she observed.
Her aunt looked at her and let out a short laugh. “Years of crossword puzzles to keep my brain healthy, though I’m not that old.”
Jaz looked her aunt up and down. It was the first time she had tried to guess her aunt’s age. She'd never asked if her aunt was an older or younger sibling, but had always assumed she was younger by appearance. Perhaps late thirties? Maybe mid?
Her aunt had a very rectangular face. A strong -almost masculine- jaw gave her face a sharpness that was more attractive rather than fierce. The bones of her cheeks were high and pointy, disguising any sagginess, bags or wrinkles that might be very obvious if they didn’t have the support her cheekbones provided.
Her small, feline, cold green-grey eyes that were now studying her, had the habit of twinkling when she smiled or laughed. Her straight, white teeth grinned below her small, pointed nose that Jaz was sure looked very similar to hers, minus the bump on the bridge.
Jaz gazed down at the black, pointy, patent heels with the bright red soles her aunt was wearing -probably the only thing really adventurous she ever wore- and then back up at her aunt’s face.
Her aunt guessed what question was brewing in her niece’s mind that caused her brows to set into a curious frown. “I’m thirty six,” she stage whispered with a grin. Jaz nodded. That seemed about right. Her aunt then grabbed a bottle that had been resting on her lap and handed it to Jaz. “Orange juice.”
Jaz took it with a smile and twisted open the cap. She noticed that the seal had already been broken and looked down at it in puzzlement. “Huh,” she grunted in a high tone to herself.
She wasn’t looking up to notice the momentary startled expression that flashed across her aunt’s face. Her uncle almost choked on a mouthful of egg, cress and white bread but he didn’t look back. The driver’s only reaction was to grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turned white.
“What is it, dear?” Aunt Erica asked, composing herself enough to sound believably unknowing.
“Oh nothing, just my bottle. The seal is broken.”
“Oh yes, silly me. I opened it for you and then when you didn’t come out the bathroom straight away I put the lid back on.”
Jaz bobbed her head in understanding and twisted the lid completely off. She smiled at her aunt before turning to gaze back out the window. When she was sure no one was looking, Jaz slipped her hand inside her handbag and very quietly popped the lid of her pills’ bottle. To normal human ears it was quiet. Her aunt and uncle didn’t notice it though their ears unconsciously picked up the faint ‘pop!’
The driver, however, did hear it.
He flicked his gaze up at her face in the mirror. She was looking down, her chin angled towards the window, as if she was trying to hide her face from the others. This sparked his curiosity.
She had an iron pill hidden in between her fingers and giving one last glance to her aunt and uncle, she discreetly plopped it in her mouth, downing any trace of it with several gulps of orange juice.
Her aunt released the breath she’d been holding from waiting for her niece to drink the juice. She then relaxed and gazed solemnly -but with acceptance of what had to be done- out the window.
The driver frowned- which to him wasn’t much different from his ordinary expression- causing the crease between his brows to deepen a little more as he watched her swallow. The curiosity was still brewing beneath the surface but the realization that there was no turning back now, blazed like a red hot poker on his skin.
Jaz drank half of it before she quietly clicked the lid back on and slipped her hand back out of her bag, moving it back to its nook between her hip and against the door. She double checked that no one had seen and it was only then that she let her eyes slip to the mirror.
This time, he wasn’t looking at her and the tension that she'd felt, when she was preparing herself to snap her eyes away if he was watching her, faded. She watched him without his knowledge. It was a good minute before she’d even realized she’d been staring and when she finally peeled her eyes away she noticed she had difficulty moving them. They felt sluggish as if she’d just woken up. It was a strange feeling. She stretched her lids wide as she forced her eyes open, doing it towards the window so no one saw. Her lids still felt heavy.
Stupid iron pills, she thought irritably. She hated taking them.
No, she hated the fact she had to take them, she corrected herself.
She was a young woman, fit, healthy, ate well, drank plenty of water, exercised, and yet, she couldn’t do anything about her severe iron deficiency anaemia. She’d had it since she was a small child.
I was diagnosed when I was five, she remembered.
Ever since then she’d had to take two iron tablets daily, and had to go to the hospital to have one injection per week for five weeks at a time. Then she'd have a break, somewhere up to a year, maybe more if the pills and her diet were working. Usually not. The doctor's didn't know why.
It was hell.
The fact that she had to rely on them to survive the day really pissed her off. She hated relying on anyone or anything. Her own body should work and be able to absorb the iron itself. It should, but it didn’t. And no doctor she’d gone to could explain why.
There was no cure, just a lifelong treatment of popping pills and injections.
Some days she felt so weak she had to lie in bed. Her anaemia wasn’t the norm, but it was the closest explanation anyone could find for her symptoms. She had low iron levels in her body, but even with an iron rich diet and the pills, she could still get horrible symptoms. She needed the pills; even more, she needed her strong dosage of shots. Without any of them, she’d die.
She wasn’t sure if it was because she was ashamed of it, but she just didn’t want anyone knowing. The only people who knew about it were her parents. If she’d had any choice, they wouldn’t know about it either. She wasn’t about to tell her aunt or uncle.
Yet even with these pills she still felt tired.
God damn it.
“Do you mind if I roll down the window?” she asked, loud enough for all to respond.
“Not at all,” her uncle replied.
Her aunt spoke over him. “Are you too warm?”
“No, um, just want some fresh air.”
“Sure, open it.”
This time she didn’t see the exchange of glances between her aunt and the driver through the mirror. She pressed the button and the fresh air whacked her in the face. It was exhilarating and helped her tiredness a little. “Let me know when it gets cold,” she called over the loud whistling of air as the car sped down the motorway.
“Sure,” her aunt mumbled.
*
Saturday May 7th, 2011, 2:04 p.m. On the M6.
An hour had passed before she started to feel it.
Her stomach became sensitive. Any strong bump in the road made it groan in discomfort. It contorted fr
om within as if she’d swallowed a buzzing beehive. She coped with it for another ten minutes before it started to writhe and she could feel the acid gurgling just below her esophagus.
She didn’t want to throw up in this car. It was a nice car… and she’d probably die of embarrassment if she barfed right there and then. She didn’t want to ask them to pull over so she kept quiet.
Then her head started to feel strange, like it was clouded in thick black fog and she couldn’t concentrate or think of anything coherent.
She stared sluggishly out the window with one hand across her tummy as she tried to soothe the fire beneath the thick layers of flesh and stomach lining. Even as her hand rested on her t-shirt she could still feel the scorching heat of her belly. It made her sweat. The salty water trickled down her spine and pooled in the pits of her arms. Her breathing became shallower and heavier as the minutes passed. The cool wind wasn’t helping anymore.
Even her vision started to act strangely. The passing hills that had been ordinary shades of green and dusty yellow were suddenly bright and luminous forms of their original colours. They began to hurt her eyes as they danced violently across her vision. She closed her lids and rested her burning head against the cool glass. The vibrations of the road only made her stomach worse. She let out a quiet groan.
It was then that Aunt Erica chose to ask her, “Are you okay, darling?”
Jaz’s response was delayed and sloppy. “I-I dunno.”
Uncle Bo swung round. The driver’s shoulders were locked so tightly, he felt like would snap, but he knew if he tried to ease them he’d lose control. Of what, he didn’t know, but he knew as long as he gripped the steering wheel and kept his muscles locked hard, he wouldn’t lose it. “What is it Jaz dear?” Uncle Bo asked, surveying his niece’s sweaty brow, even paler skin, and droopy eyes.
“I don’t feel so good,” she managed to say.
