by Helen Slavin
Charlie felt a spike of jealousy so green and sappy that she had to sit down on the nearest bench and take a deep breath.
16
Gold Glisters
Emz had said she was going to the party on Friday as a challenge. The challenge was to actually turn up. A few of the other girls were meeting up for pre-drinks at Caitlin’s house.“Why don’t you come?” Caitlin had asked.
“She can bring some Ribena.” Viki and Beca smirked at each other. “Mixer!” they intoned together, amused as if they were the most comic double act in the universe. No one really liked Viki or Beca because they tended to drink other people’s vodka and never have their own cigarettes.
So, it was now all arranged and Emz found herself in the local supermarket buying a bottle of vodka that she knew she wouldn’t drink. She had gone all out tonight and bought one with golden sparkles in which, however it might taste, did look very pretty. As she stood in the queue waiting to be served the sparkles seemed to catch in the overhead lighting and were very golden, like pieces of sunlight. Emz was entranced.
“…me Miss?” A voice broke into the blizzard of gold in her head. Emz looked up, the older woman on the checkout was looking at her. Emz slid the bottle towards her along with her ID.
“I prefer gin myself.” The woman smiled.
At home Emz struggled with her wardrobe. She didn’t spend a lot on clothes as all her spare time was spent in hiking pants and a fleece tramping through the mud at Prickles. She had a blue sparkly number that she’d bought last New Year for the disastrous party she’d been to then. Now she thought about it that was the last time she’d been out… no, there was the barbecue at Gaia’s house where she’d been sick in the bath.
Charlie’s wardrobe was slightly more promising.
“A party?” Charlie had been dropping her off at school, the engine idling in the main car park.
“Yes.”
Charlie considered for a moment and then turned the car around. They were heading back towards the town centre.
Charlie’s flat smelt damp and cold and, Emz noticed, Charlie moved through it rather like a burglar, the car keys chinkling in her hand. Emz waited in the hall beside the landslide of kicked aside junk mail.
“Come on then…” Charlie beckoned from the bedroom.
Emz picked her way across the floor littered with underwear, towels and mould furred mugs to look in her sister’s wardrobe. There was one dress she’d always loved… there. Silver and beaded it had cost Charlie an arm and a leg from the Last Chance to Buy rail at Top Shop in Castlebury.
“Seriously?” Charlie asked swinging the dress around on its plastic hanger so that the light from the window caught the spangles on it. She smiled. “I would not have thought you would pick this… I would have said… this one…” Charlie mooched around, pulling out a little black number with lacy sleeves that she quite liked, and as she did Emz noticed that her own blue New Year’s dress was shoved into the bottom of Charlie’s wardrobe.
She tried the two dresses on. The black one was too much, she would look like a sort of slutty version of one of Viki’s emo confederates, but the silver beaded dress was lush. Emz and Charlie were roughly the same size, Charlie being slightly taller.
“Keep it,” Charlie grimaced, “you look way better in it than I do…” And it seemed a fair enough exchange for the blue dress. “Tell you what Cinderella… try these on…” She scuffled about in the wardrobe for a moment.
“Where the…? They must be…?” She glanced around the room lighting at last on a discarded cream leather Doc Marten boot by the chest of drawers. “Here…” She lobbed the boot at Emz and as she tried it on Charlie dug its confederate out from under the bed. “You can take these… they’re Anna’s actually.” They were the soft ones, Pascal style, that didn’t need breaking in. They fitted like a dream.
Back at home after school, Emz pulled her outfit together, the silver dress feeling even better, and she thought of Charlie saying “Cinderella”. However, where shoes were concerned, there were only so many concessions Emz would make to this party. She’d got gold vodka; therefore, she could wear the shoes she wanted and felt like herself in.
As she stood in the kitchen at the breakfast bar munching a pre-pre-drinks snack of some Kettle crisps she found her mind struggling with thoughts. That was the trouble with doing things that were out of your comfort zone. Which was her real self? The one standing here in the fancy dress or the one who had recently wrestled a swan?
They had left a terrible year behind and they had struggled along through this year and now that they had lost Grandma Hettie, Emz felt more uncertain and unsure than ever. In a couple of weeks, it would be October and that brought Hallowe’en and a whole year would have slipped by them. None of the Ways cared much for looking back but at the moment it seemed as scary trying to look forward. Going to the party would not solve any of that but, for a few hours, she could drink sparkly vodka and pretend to be someone else.
* * *
For Emz Way, pre-drinks was edgy and nerve-racking. She arrived at Caitlin’s house with Tori and just to keep her hands busy had accepted the glass of wine that she was offered. The music was loud and there was a lot of chatter and Caitlin was behaving, uncharacteristically, as if they might have been best friends all their life.
“Omg I love that dress.” She was all smiles and fake kisses and hugs “… Have you seen what Viki is wearing? For fuck’s sake.” She grin-grimaced. Emz saw clearly that her barriers were up, Caitlin was hidden from her, just occasional glimmers of her real face, where her eyes looked sideways at Emz with a slyness. Emz switched off her skill, she had no desire to see what the hard eyes hinted at. It would make the party impossible and besides, Caitlin wasn’t any of her concern.
* * *
Tasha’s house, on a new development at the edge of Castlebury, was an impressive building with a porticoed façade and they pulled into the curved driveway and the clearly landscaped garden.
“Fuck me…” Mark said, “…her dad must be minted.”
“They haven’t bought this new house, they rent it.” Ellie was bitching from the back seat of Logan’s car, or rather the car he had borrowed from his brother. “She’s all about how rich they are, her Birkin bag and all that but this isn’t their house…”
“So?” Logan looked at her in the rear view, the girls were all piled in the back, Mark was riding shotgun.
“So? She’s so up herself.” Tori began to pitch in, “she thinks she’s all that, and it’s all a lie.”
Caitlin shared a look with Emz.
“But she gives good party… eh, Mark?” Caitlin reached forward to tickle Mark’s neck as they all began to pile out.
“Fuck off Caitlin.” Mark was sharp, a glance to Emz which sent warning spikes into Emz’s brain. She didn’t want to be in on this. Feeling a bit desperate Emz opened the vodka.
* * *
Emz very quickly remembered that she was not good at drinking; being drunk was a very bad idea indeed. Everything was too raw, too wide open. Too late she recalled that this had happened at New Year’s Eve too. Oh no. Was this simply being drunk? Was this how it was for everyone? Or was this just for her with her facial radar? She let the shot wear off a little. The room lightened, and she was able to control what she saw, to switch off the exposure of emotions.
A scientific approach called for another top-up shot to test her theory. Emz knocked it back. The effect was instant. Around her the faces were blurring between the internal and the external, for Emz it was as if all the shutters were up, she could see everywhere and everything, no one could hide. The emotions were like distress flares going off, everything intensified. She made a conscious effort to try and observe what she was doing and work out the mechanics of it. She pulled on her resources, the way her grandma had taught her. It was no use, she saw everything. Laid bare. There was a wild edge to it and she didn’t want to control it. She wanted it to be free.
She could feel the sp
ace in her mind where the control snagged at her, trying to attract her attention away from the wild openness of feeling, to something important. Yes. What was that? She focused. A shadow was cast, lines on the floor, as the vodka level wore off a little the shadow lines on the floor drew her eye. They made an intricate web pattern. Pretty. Webby. She laughed deep inside herself and then was impatient. She was looking in the wrong direction. Pay attention. The voice was hers, it had always lived in her head. It was like an old friend, someone she loved and had not seen for ages. Yes. Exactly, so pay attention. The web was a shadow, a small thought made Emz shift her gaze upward.
A black web. It didn’t touch everyone. She could see where it arched over the others and ran in sticky trails between Logan, Mark and Caitlin. If she didn’t think about it, the web was black and vivid and there was secret knowledge poised at the edge of it. The second she tried to look hard at the web, or wonder about what it meant, it drifted higher, she couldn’t quite grasp what it was. She took a couple of vodka shots and shut her eyes.
Open them. She didn’t look up at the web, she pushed it slightly out of view, towards the edge of her mind. The web was not hers and yet it ravelled around her. This is not good. Beware. The voice advised. With the vodka all her other senses and brain functions were turned off and she discovered that all she could be was the dark heart of herself. This strength is hiding inside you.
Emz felt queasy, on edge. She looked into the bottle of vodka, at the swirling gold sparkles, to try and pull herself back and yet the alcohol was making her want to look over that edge. No, more than look. Leap. Emz took in a deep breath and once again tried to regain control. Vodka was a terrible idea. Just as she thought she might actually be sick a voice said…
“Not wearing any badger trophy bits tonight then?”
Emz looked up into Logan Boyle’s face.
“What?” Emz burped. He leaned in close to her ear.
“Are you just a bit pissed?” he asked.
“Are you going to be a detective?” She leaned into his ear. It was a very beautiful ear. He smelt very good too, a scent beneath the usual aftershave, a true scent of the real Logan. The black web shuddered. She stopped herself saying this to him and as she looked she could see the reality of him, that terrible sadness, the wide wisdom. His hand reached out to steady her.
“Whoa there, Wobble.” His hand rested on the small of her back and he leaned back, not to distance himself from her vodka breath, but so that he could look at her better.
“Logan… Logan… Logan…” She leaned into him, her lips brushing against his hair, his forehead, black web, vibrating, this is not good, watch out. He looked down at her, she tilted her head and without thinking she kissed him. He kissed her back, his hands at her waist. Then he pulled away. Black web. Look.
“Shall we get out of here?” he asked. His face was open to her. She wanted to reach up and trace the edges of him, remember him always. Black web, something in the web, look. Distracted, she shook the web with her mind, watched the shiver go through Caitlin and Mark Catton. There was something there that was blindingly obvious, the web was black and treacly between them. Emz felt her stomach roll, her mind reaching to right itself, it was too much to handle.
“I have to… I just…” She pushed away from him. Where was the bathroom? Logan caught her arm.
“Okay. Okay. This way.”
She took her time in the bathroom, listening to the sound of the flush as if it was a waterfall and squeezing out toothpaste onto her finger and squidging it around her mouth before drinking water from the tap like a thirsty cat. She had lost track of the bottle of vodka. Good. Oh my God, Logan Boyle. Part of her wanted to climb out of the bathroom window and run away from whatever might happen. But she had kissed him. She’d sent that message loud and clear. Oh. Why had she done that? The answer came with the memory of his face, his real face, sad and wise. That person. That face. That mouth on hers. With the last of the vodka just slightly buzzing at her she felt she could cope, at last, with opening the door. Logan was outside. Waiting. For her.
Logan was not outside. There was a rowdy crush of other people, some girls she didn’t know squabbling over something, their shoulders hunched forward like cats fighting. Emz squeezed her way past and down the stairs.
She couldn’t see him. The faces were normalised, she did not want to be swamped with everyone else’s emotions. In the hallway she spotted the glitter of gold vodka being shared out between Viki and Beca, Viki turning and, on seeing Emz, raising the bottle.
“Emz! Emzy…”
Emz turned away quickly and crashed into Mark Catton.
“Hey. I was looking for you,” he winked.
“No thanks.” Emz pushed away from him but he grabbed her arm, began to draw her towards the open French doors in the rear sitting room.
“Logan said to meet him in the summer house…”
At the edge of Emz’s vision there was a shiver of black web which disappeared into the darkness as they crossed the patio onto the lawn.
The air was fresh and cool, and she wanted to turn back.
“No. Look… I …” She looked back at the shiny lights of the house. Mark held up his hands, his beer can a toast.
“Your escort ends here.” He began stepping back, his face a raw grin that was unpleasant and once again Emz could feel the black web crouching in the corner of her head. She hesitated. Mark was moving back towards the patio. She could just head this way and leave. That was probably a good plan, save embarrassing herself. And yet. Was Logan waiting for her? What had he said? Shall we get out of here.
The summer house door was ajar, but it was dark within. One instinct told Emz to head in the opposite direction but at the remembrance of the kiss, other instincts overrode that, and she reached for the door.
The second she stepped into the summer house the black web spun itself out across Emz’s mind, humming, trying to communicate. If she looked at it directly, it vanished and then there was a muffled moan of noise that caught at her. Emz couldn’t quite see clearly, but then her eyes grew accustomed and she could see Logan sitting in the chair, Caitlin was straddled across him, her top falling open as she leaned over Logan, kissing him, moaning. Emz turned quickly to leave. The floor creaked beneath her and Caitlin gave a startled cry.
“No.” Logan’s voice reached out as Caitlin seemed to topple to the floor, but Emz did not hang around to find out what was going on. She was running across the lawn.
“Hey… Emz…” Mark was waiting for her, his arms snaring her. “What’s wrong? What happened?” And she understood he knew. “Hey, hey… slow down, slow down, c’mere…” He was grabbing at her, clawing at her. Emz felt a wildness inside her, something primal that cannoned out of her arms, making her muscles sing and sending Mark Catton flying across the patio where he landed heavily against the garden table, scrabbling away from her in the darkness.
“Emz? Wait.” She heard Logan’s voice from the darkness and changed direction. Veering away from him, running out across the lawn, the grass scent under her feet was soothing to her. She began to run harder.
She had forgotten the golden vodka and she could feel the edges wearing off her drunken state. She was sliding to somewhere different now and she was confused. She wanted Logan, but she did not want to be with him. She understood, there was some kind of trick being played on her, black web, something to do with the three of them; with Caitlin, Mark and Logan himself. Vodka shots had made the black web obvious and clear. But as she tried to think about the web still another, stronger instinct took her over, she felt the most urgent desire to be elsewhere and that place, the place she must be, right now, was Havoc Wood.
17
Something Brewing
A year or more ago the Drawbridge Brewery company had set aside a small building up by the edge of the river for experimentation. This old shed with its corrugated roof and smooth red brickwork was one of Charlie’s favourite places to be and she had spent most of the wee
k in there.
The Castle now had a wedding licence and she had been aware of her sister’s increased catering workload. This phenomenon was now having a further knock-on effect to the local economy. She’d heard that Mimosa, the florist, were looking at allotments to grow their own and meet demands for more unusual plants for bouquets and flower arrangements and now Drawbridge had been asked to create a wedding beer.
“Do what?” Charlie had said when Michael casually asked how she’d like to brew a bespoke beer. He’d looked slightly thrown by her reaction.
“A bespoke beer. You know what bespoke means? Specially for someone…”
Charlie raised her eyebrows at him. Once again, he had disturbed her as she was perched on the topmost ladder of the copper with her tub of hops. She did not like to be disturbed when she was adding the hops, partly because she didn’t like the height of the ladder but also because she needed to focus on the scents. Today she’d opened up the container with the hops and at once she’d registered their bitterness, she saw it as a clear bright green today, other days there were other colours, an entire green and brown spectrum that filtered and flashed in her head. She was working in handfuls at the moment and she’d lost track. Michael waited.
The wedding couple had made an appointment to talk over their tastes with Charlie and Michael. Their list was lengthy and included apples.
“Do you want a cider? Or apple beer?” Charlie was severe, Michael cleared his throat and Charlie recovered the situation. “If you’d like I could brew a cider and a beer for you and your guests.” As she said it she knew exactly where she would get the apples. “Do you know Two Arches Farm at all?” she asked, and the couple seemed to light up.
