by Jess Webster
One gravesite seemed to shine brighter than all the others, and even before he knew the substance of those secrets, James knew to whom they belonged. He would not be seeing his mother this day, or any other.
Angeline Winchester was gone, lying beneath a gravesite marked:
Mary Thomas, 5/3/1982 – 6/5/2008.
Mourned by all at Willowgreen.
With no family to be seen,
You loved the rest of us instead
Till you fell asleep in bed
Never again to wake.
Into the life beyond our broken hearts you’ll take.
Due to the nature of her disability, almost every thought following Angeline’s stroke had remained a secret, and now lay bare beneath James’ feet. In one small moment James came to understand Angeline Winchester; her confusion, her frustration, her helpless rage. But the dominant secret – amongst the thousands her condition forced her to keep – was that she had loved her little baby James, and longed more than anything else in the world to see him. To hold him and look into his deep, blue, wise-looking eyes. It was her dearest wish, and she had died only four months ago, still wishing.
James dared not take these secrets. He felt he might burst if he did. But he did take with him a certain contentment, in the knowledge that his mother had truly loved him; and resolve, for the Winchesters deserved punishment for their misdeeds. And James was going to make sure they got it.
“Just tell me, Lily, what’s going on?” Esther asked.
“He could see him, that’s why he drank all the vodka!” Lilith said quickly.
“Who’da-what-now?” Byron Gables asked from behind, and came to stand beside Esther.
Lilith continued to Esther, quite breathlessly, “He thought he was being haunted, he thought it was a ghost! He saw him floating – going through walls.”
Esther’s breath caught in her chest. She dared not hope that she understood Lilith Palmer correctly. She had to make sure. “You’re saying that Andrew could see James – that’s why he drank himself senseless?”
“Yes!” Lilith nodded her little head, smiling. “Well, he thought it was water, like I said, but he drank it ’cause it was on Miss Gerson-Clay’s desk and ’cause he was freaking out.”
“Arruminating, he said,” Esther recalled with a smile. “The little git – he must’ve meant ‘hallucinating’! But he was too drunk to get the word out properly.”
Lilith Palmer nodded in agreement.
“But how did the Secret Stealer miss him in the first–” Esther puzzled aloud, and suddenly realised the answer to her own question. “James told me he’d seen Andrew and some other boys smoking in the tower room. Andrew was awake the night Domenic passed through!”
“So he never had his secret stolen!” Lilith said. The little girl looked up at Esther, beaming, with no small measure of excitement. “Miss Mason-Smith, this makes him a Potential, doesn’t it?”
Esther Mason-Smith grinned down at Lilith Palmer. “It sure does, Lily. We can get him back.”
“Who? Andrew or James?”
“Both,” Esther replied with a smile, “and in one go.” But there was one small problem, she realised. “If I just had a mobile number for my… sister…” Esther had to check herself and omit the word ‘evil’, suddenly recalling that Lilith was likely to become the adoptive daughter of said ‘evil’ sister. Seeing Gables’ confusion she added, “James went to ask her for a favour. He’s probably still with her.”
“She wouldn’t happen to go by a different surname to you, would she?” Gables asked. “Looks like you? But somehow infinitely more angry? And brusque? And, well… scary?”
“Who’re you?” Lilith Palmer demanded of Gables. But a moment later, after glancing from Gables and back to Esther again, she giggled quietly and said, “Never mind.”
Esther did not even want to ask. “Pritchard,” she replied warily, “Blythe Pritchard. And yes, that sounds like a pretty accurate description of her.”
“I actually used to have a client by the name of Blythe Pritchard, a couple of years ago. She didn’t like flying with hundreds of other people in economy, if she could avoid it.”
Esther rolled her eyes. “That sounds about right too.”
“I have a mobile number… but you know what I’m gonna need in exchange.” Gables grinned at her.
“Same deal as before, Gables,” Esther said sternly. “Only if we manage to rescue James.”
“I can deal with that,” Gables agreed, and withdrew his organiser from his pocket.
“And people think I’m strange,” Lilith murmured.
“Does she know what we’re talking about?” Gables whispered to Esther.
Esther shrugged. “Probably. She knows things. But after telling me to look for someone called Darcy, and not telling me her surname was Gables, I’m not entirely sure she’s trustworthy,” Esther said, archness in all her looks.
“Hey!” Lilith objected. “You’re getting your sister’s number, aren’t you? Which you wouldn’t have been able to get if you hadn’t found Darcy, who you wouldn’t have been able to find if not for me.”
“She’s got a point,” Byron said.
Esther frowned at him. “Stop trying to make friends with all my students.”
Byron suddenly looked confused. “Aren’t you going to call h– why are you texting her? Wouldn’t it be quicker to call?”
“We don’t talk anymore,” Esther said quickly. “Do you want to talk to her?”
“No-ooo,” Gables said, placing his hands before him like a shield. “She’s scary.”
Esther shrugged. “Then texting it is.” She turned to Lilith. “We’re going to need to meet James somewhere, and bring Andrew along. We’ll also need to get out of the hospital without anyone seeing us. Do you think you can help with that?”
Lilith considered this momentarily. “Yep, I think so. But Ew-Boy is still sick, isn’t he?”
“Oh, I can fix that.” Esther waved the issue aside with a casual flick of the hand.
“If you could’ve fixed him, why didn’t you do it before?” Lilith asked, amazed.
“James was going to be away anyway.” Esther shrugged, and added with a half-whisper and a smile, “And if you had the chance to let Ew-Boy suffer a little, wouldn’t you take it?”
Lilith Palmer grinned. “I guess so.”
“Some nurse you are.” Byron Gables shook his head.
“You haven’t met Ew-Boy,” Lilith said.
Gables smiled, then with mock-seriousness said to Esther, “You have an overdeveloped sense of justice.”
“Yes,” Esther replied, giving him a significant look, “I do.”
“Hey,” he objected, shielding himself again. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I’m cursed, remember?”
Esther’s phone beeped out its monotone message rhythm, drawing her attention away from the brewing argument with Gables.
“That’s odd,” she murmured. “She’s given me a meeting place roughly within Sydney – in two hours’ time. That means they’re already here, and they’ve cut their honeymoon short.” She began to wonder exactly what James had asked of them, and why he had not asked her. She frowned momentarily at this thought, then said, “We don’t have long, Lily. Let’s get moving.”
They began to make their way back to Andrew’s room, but Esther stopped when she realised that Gables, who had dropped back to speak momentarily with Darcy, was now catching up with her.
“You’re not coming,” Esther said shortly. “You have a niece in there who is expecting an all-day visit from her…” (here she spoke with feigned sweetness) “…Unky Bee.”
“She said she’s happy enough to hear the whole story later on,” Byron explained. “And as if you’re going to come find me at my airport and… pay me back.”
“Stop trying to talk in code,” Lilith said. “I know what ‘the deal’ means. You get a kiss.”
Gables chuckled. “Hey, she does know things! That’s impressive! What kin
d of school do you work for, anyway? So far the kids are either invisible, drink way too much vodka, or know things they’ve never been taught.”
“It’s called–” Lilith began.
“Hogwarts, that’s what,” Esther interrupted.
Byron rolled his eyes. “Very funny.”
Esther leant down whisper to Lilith, “He’ll stalk me if he knows where I work. Don’t tell him anything.”
Lilith looked as if she were about to say something else, but eventually decided to remain silent. But Esther did not miss the flicker of amusement that passed across Lilith’s face as she glanced sideways at Byron Gables.
By this time the three had reached Andrew Harrison’s bedside. Esther made quick work of healing him. After a few seconds his eyes flew open. He immediately began to cough, declaring loudly and with amazing vehemence, “I’m going to kick that *#$%@ doctor next time she comes in. Shoved that thing down my throat and stabbed me with needles when I told ’er not to! And I said I wanted a Nintendo in here by the time I woke up. Where’s my damn NINTENDO? Where’re my mum and dad? Mum woulda made sure it was here before I woke up. Stupid nurses!” A moment later he seemed to calm, and said with a very off-putting smile, “Oh, hello Lilith.”
Esther and Lilith glanced at Byron as if to say: Told you so.
Byron grimaced.
“We don’t have time for that, Andrew,” Esther said. “We’ve got to go.”
“Where to?” Andrew eyed her suspiciously.
Lilith glanced at Esther and Byron, silently communicating that she’d do all the talking. “They’re going to help us run away together. We’re going to rob a bank, that way we’ll never have to go to school or work ever again.”
Andrew Harrison’s jaw dropped open.
“I hope she’s just leading this kid on,” Byron whispered to Esther. “I don’t want to rob a bank. I don’t need to rob a bank.”
Esther grimaced back and shrugged. She didn’t know exactly what Lilith had planned, but knew enough of her, and of Sensitives in general, to trust her.
Andrew Harrison, in the meantime, was in shock. Here was a girl who punched him back when he played tricks on her, and was now suggesting the very thing he’d always always always wanted to do, just for fun: to rob a bank. To waltz in with a shotgun, shoot the roof and send a cloud of plaster dust over the huddled and terrified customers, to shout orders and threaten to kill, and to walk out with bags and bags filled to overflowing with a fluttering rainbow of Aussie cash and clinking gold bars, as the dirty, dust-covered people stared after him, terrified of him and his big gun…
Not privy to the thoughts that were at present whirring through Andrew Harrison’s mind, Esther, Byron and Lilith stared at his slack-jawed, misty-eyed expression with a small measure of worry.
Lilith waved a hand before Andrew’s face, and he snapped out from his semi-comatose state. He grinned. “Let’s go.”
“Now,” Lilith said to the three of them, “this is very important. Don’t ask questions. Just go when I say go, and stop when I say stop.”
“Are we taking this seriously?” Byron whispered to Esther.
“Just shut up and do as she says,” Esther hissed at him.
Byron shrugged.
“Go,” Lilith said, and the little girl darted forward from Andrew’s room, not heading toward the obvious ward exit door, but elsewhere.
Esther, Byron and Andrew lost a moment to confusion and hesitation, but as they peeked out the door there was no one to be seen.
Lilith glanced sharply over one shoulder at them, and they obeyed the silent order instantly. A moment later the group passed through a set of secure doors that were, remarkably, jammed open by a scrunched ball of paper-towel on the tiled floor.
“We’ll have to wait here for just a couple of seconds,” Lilith said, and the other three froze. Lilith looked up at them with amusement. “You don’t have to stand like statues, you big sillies. Just stand around quietly for a little bit.”
A doctor and two nurses exited a room a few metres ahead, intently studying a few sheets of results.
Byron stiffened a little and Lilith said, “Don’t worry, they won’t turn around. They’re too busy trying to figure out how to save the boy in that room.”
Byron seemed to relax at this.
“Okay, we can go now,” Lilith said, and continued to lead the way.
“Can she see secrets too?” Byron whispered to Esther.
“I don’t think it’s quite like that,” Esther answered, although the truth was she hardly knew what to make of the little girl.
It was truly uncanny, the way she directed them through the hospital, taking the obscurest route of turns, stairs and elevators – sometimes going down then up, only to go back down again, or sometimes circling a whole ward simply to reach the elevator they’d seen nearby when they first walked in, and all the while avoiding the sight of every other living person within the building.
At last they exited via a bizarrely empty supplies dock, and Byron offered, “My car’s nearby. I’ll drive.”
“Where’s the bank?” Andrew demanded.
“First we need the guns, silly,” Lilith said. “Miss Mason-Smith has the address. She and Mr Gables will drive us.”
“Then let’s go already!” Andrew grinned evilly and walked on.
The other three exchanged private glances of amusement and continued on their way. Never had Andrew Harrison VI been so easy to control, Esther thought, and wished then that Lilith Palmer had come to Westcott sooner!
It was approximately nine a.m. as Domenic and Blythe Mancini’s taxi arrived at Larkwind Estate. James had been waiting for them. He was about to ask how their flight had been when he noticed that they looked rather haggard, and deemed it best to hold his tongue. Instead he politely offered, “Did you want to rest up a bit in the house?”
Blythe, exhausted, looked ready to accept, and related the idea to Domenic. But the former Secret Stealer shook his head. “If there’s one thing the thief with 200 years’ experience knows, it’s not to hang about in the house you’re pilfering from.”
“You’re probably right,” Blythe said reluctantly. “Is there a spare key somewhere? I think I’m a bit too tired to do anything magic-wise.”
“My mu– uh… Yvette I mean,” James began and scowled, mostly at himself, for constantly stumbling over his words and almost saying ‘my parents’ or ‘my mum’ or ‘my dad’. Knowing the truth as he did, he now felt as if every slip of this kind was a betrayal to his true mother, and a humiliating testament to his own naiveté.
“Don’t worry, James,” Blythe said softly, “it’s a lot to get your head around, even by grown-up standards. It’ll take some time.”
James nodded and started again. “Yvette keeps a key behind the loose brick near the front door. She’s always losing things in that big house.”
“Well let’s get to it, then,” Blythe said, smiling at James.
As he looked up at her then, James finally saw something of Miss Mason-Smith in her.
There are no more lessons to be learnt, reader dear.
The course has been set.
Sit back and enjoy…
…The Collision
The trio’s raid on the cellar safe was surprisingly quick, and without hindrance. The key had been exactly where James had said. Once inside, James quickly told Blythe the correct code for the alarm system panel hidden within the cloakroom. James himself had never been into the cellar that he could recall, but Domenic quickly pointed out that it was most likely to be near the kitchen, which James knew to be near the back of the house. Once inside the cellar it was simply a matter of moving past hundreds of dusty old wine bottles to the north-eastern point, removing a cheap Monet print from the wall to reveal the safe itself, and pressing the six digit combination onto the touch-screen interface. It was the birth-date of Angeline Winchester.
With very little sound the safe-door swung open, and there lay James’ treasure. A small light i
lluminated the contents of the safe, and in the dusty dark of the cellar Blythe flicked through the pile of papers.
“Walter Winchester is such a juvenile,” she said, her face filled with disgust.
“Hey,” Domenic objected, “you called me that not long ago.”
Blythe looked at him and said, “There’s tolerable adolescence and then there’s bad adolescence. This is sheer idiocy. He’s got evidence here for probably hundreds of bribes. It’s like he gets his kicks out of doing the wrong thing and paying his way out of trouble – not just doing the wrong thing all by itself.”
“It’s probably because the money isn’t his,” James reasoned aloud. “Because it all went to my mum. Then Walter got his hands on it. It’s probably like revenge against his dad – the only revenge he could get ’cause his dad was already dead.” He mused further, quiet and serious, drawing on what he had seen in Walter’s mind within that horrible moment at Gables’ office: “It’s probably also the closest thing he’s got to a family photo album. Happy memories of all the bad things he’s done and got away with.”
Blythe stopped searching through the papers to glance down at James, saying, “You’re a very intelligent boy, James. And I think you’re right.” She resumed her search. “Isn’t this nice of him? He’s gone through and catalogued it into sections, labelled by the offence. Here’s Property Related, Driving Related, and oh – here’s Alcohol Related.”
“Hey,” Domenic interrupted to point out a sheet that Blythe had just passed, “doesn’t that look like the kind of information we’re after?”
Blythe pulled out a few sheets that had been paper-clipped together, with a small note attached saying ‘Angeline’. She held the sheets up to the light and muttered the contents of the first page to herself. “Bingo,” she said.
Byron parked a short distance away from the house, as per Esther’s orders. Esther, Byron, Lilith and Andrew stepped out from the car and looked around warily.
“We’re a little bit early,” Byron said, looking at his watch, “but who ever got into trouble for being early, right?” Receiving no reply, he then wondered aloud, “Where are we?”
