Isobel

by Sheila Tibbs

  “Did you and Isobel have fun today, love?” David asked after planting a light kiss on Sarah’s brow.

  “Lovely,” Sarah said.

  “Mr. Peters called by today, unfortunately he’s given his notice. Said he’d work until the end of the month and that he will only be round on Tuesdays ‘til then,” David said. Sarah sat upright.

  “But why, David, did he say? Mr. Peters has looked after our garden forever, isn’t his son going to take over? I know, I’ll go and see them tomorrow, after church, perhaps he will change his mind.”

  “Doubt it, love, he seemed pretty adamant. Wouldn’t say why though, just that he would be leaving at the end of the month. Wouldn’t look me in the eye either, just said his piece and left.”

  “Have we done something to offend him, David? Is it something we’ve done?” Sarah’s head was swimming with thoughts of how they could have upset or offended him.

  Usually, if Mr. Peters couldn’t make it, his son would come. There had even been talk of his son taking over completely when Mr. Peters retired. The Peters’ had always been the keepers of the manor grounds, why now was he going to change all that? Sarah just couldn’t imagine how they had upset him.

  “Oh, and he said could they stay on at the cottage til' Christmas, then they would be gone.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said they can stay at the cottage for as long as they want. As far as I’m concerned, the cottage is their home, always has been, always will be.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “Thank you, but we will be gone by Christmas.”

  Sarah sat stunned for what seemed ages. Sighing heavily she said, “I’m going to take a bath. I thought we could drive into Southend and take Isobel to Pizza Hut for her tea. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a lovely idea.” David smiled and gave Sarah’s hand a loving squeeze as she passed.

  Upstairs, Sarah headed for the bathroom. As she passed Isobel’s room, she glanced in through the half open door. She saw Isobel sitting at her dressing table talking to her reflection. Her heart seemed to rise and stick in her throat. She could feel her eyes burning, tears started to overflow and run down her cheeks.

  It wasn’t Isobel looking back from the mirror.

  Isobel spun round, suddenly aware of Sarah standing in the doorway. Sarah’s eyes were still transfixed on the mirror, only now the burning pain started to subside and the only image in the mirror was the back of Isobel’s head.

  “How long have you been there, Sarah?” Isobel asked in an unpleasant tone.

  “W-w-what?” Sarah asked, still trying to make sense of what she had seen, or what she thought she had seen.

  “I said, how long have you been standing there?” Isobel growled.

  “Oh, not long, I just came to tell you that we’re going out for dinner tonight ... for pizza. I thought I’d let you know.”

  Sarah forced herself to look away from the mirror and she managed a weak smile. The look on Isobel’s face made Sarah’s heart beat a tattoo in her chest. Feeling somehow that she had spied on Isobel and, feeling guilty, she turned away and locked the bathroom door behind her.

  Sitting on the edge of the bath she started to shake. Had she really seen someone else looking back at Isobel through the mirror?

  “Don’t be daft,” she said aloud. She looked up at her own reflection in the mirror above the sink. A frightened, shocked, and very pale Sarah stared back. 'That’s it,' she thought, 'I don’t look much like me at the moment, perhaps Isobel’s looking worn out and tired as well. God, I don’t know what’s the matter with me lately. I’ve never had such a vivid imagination, what will I imagine next?'

  She let out a nervous little laugh, put the plug in the bath and turned on the taps. 'I think I need to get back to some work, stop my silly childish imagination running away with me. It must be this bloody house. It was the same when I was younger,' she thought to herself and her reflection smiled. Sarah then realised that she was smiling back.

  •

  David steered the car, carefully, into the small parking space.

  “Some people,” he complained. “Look at the bloody room they’ve taken up, could get a double-decker bus in that space, and never mind a car. Idiots, taken up half my bloody parking space as well as their own ... and it’s only a poxy little car for Christ’s sake!” He pulled the hand brake up roughly and turned off the engine.

  “Well, let’s go eat,” he said to Isobel in his rear view mirror. Isobel smiled and stepped out of the car. The night air made Sarah shudder but both David and Isobel didn't seem to notice the coldness. Together they walked off to the restaurant hand in hand, laughing over some private joke and Sarah was left to bring up the rear, alone.

  She was glad that David and Isobel got on so well, but couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy whenever the three of them were together, it was always David and Isobel together, and Sarah felt left out.

  She had tried to tell herself to stop being foolish but she wasn’t succeeding. David had only ever had eyes for her until Isobel came; now she felt she had to compete for his attention. Sarah loved it though when David was at work and she had Isobel all to herself. It was like no one else really mattered. She thought, perhaps, Isobel had the same effect on David.

  'Well,' she thought, 'I’ve got news for you two, because I do exist, and I do matter.'

  All through dinner, David and Isobel laughed and joked together, occasionally including Sarah for a few seconds, before changing the subject and getting caught up with each other again.

  Sarah even left to go to the toilet and they hadn’t even noticed she had gone. Feeling very deflated, Sarah slowly returned to the table, convinced that if she left and went home, they still wouldn’t notice she'd gone, when she'd heard David laugh and say, “So, what did you do then?”

  “I told her that gossips that spread lies are spreading dirt with their tongue.”

  “Then what happened?” He was crying now with laughter and holding his side.

  “Well, when we went out to play, she did no more than fall in a big muddy puddle, that had been made from us watering our runner bean plants we’re growing in science, and got a mouthful of dirt.” Isobel was also laughing.

  “What’s all this then?” Sarah asked smiling.

  “Oh, that Tina what’s-her-name was being horrible to Isobel, telling lies and all that, and Isobel told her she would be spreading more than lies. Anyway, the long and the short of it was that SHE fell over and ended up with a mouthful of mud.”

  “So I told her she would spread more than gossip and she told me to go back where I came from. I said, you’re sick Tina, that’s what you are, sick. Then I walked away.”

  “And you find that funny, David?” Sarah asked, shocked at his behaviour.

  “Oh, don’t be so high and mighty, Sarah. Haven’t you heard that a sense of humour is supposed to help make you healthy? No wonder you’re looking so pale, you’ve forgotten how to laugh. Lighten up will you?” he scowled.

  Back in the car, Sarah was still hurt by David’s words and couldn’t bring herself to talk; she just stared out of the window at the darkened sky. Lights flickered behind closed curtains and Sarah found herself wondering if the people inside felt as sad as she did.

  •

  Back at home, David and Isobel were still laughing and joking around. Sarah felt sure they didn’t even realise she wasn’t talking, totally oblivious to her existence. Sighing loudly and with a heavy heart, she slowly mounted the stairs to her room and undressed for bed. She was sitting up reading when she heard David bid goodnight to Isobel and then come into the bedroom, undressing.

  “Don’t you think your acting very childishly, Sarah?” he asked, trying to suppress the anger that was rising inside, but he was failing.

  “You acted like a spoilt brat tonight, your attitude and sulking made Isobel feel very uncomfortable. She thinks she’s to blame for your behaviour and it took me ages to convince he
r that your temper tantrum was YOUR fault and no one else’s. God, I never realised you could be so... YOU'RE not the centre of attention, you never have been and you definitely never will be!” he shouted, and then stormed off to the bathroom before Sarah could answer. Instead, she sat there; mouth open and a look of shock on her face at David’s sudden outburst.

  Sarah lay down and switched off her bedside light. She heard David switch off the shower, and knew he would be back in the room in minutes, so she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep for fear of another mouthful of hurtful, but, unfortunately truthful, comments from him.

  She felt him slither beneath the quilt beside her, and waited until she was sure he was asleep, and then she quietly slid from beneath the covers and left the room.

  As she passed Isobel’s room, she could hear Isobel’s hushed voice and the gentle sound of her music box playing. She immediately pictured Isobel sitting at her mirror and again talking to her reflection.

  Quietly, she descended the stairs and entered the kitchen, which sprung to life at the click of the switch. Light illuminated the large room, the pastel peach walls added warmth and the pine units lined the walls like statues. Sarah flopped down onto one of the pine chairs that flanked the large, country style, pine table and sighed deeply. She felt terrible. David’s words had cut deep.

  'Does he really think I’m acting like a spoilt brat? Am I acting like a spoilt brat?' she silently asked herself.

  She didn’t know the answer; so much had changed since Isobel had arrived. She hadn’t thought for one minute that a child would come between her and David, although it seemed to be happening, and there was nothing she could do about it. Anything she said, David somehow managed to twist around and blame it all on her. Not that things were changing, or had changed between them, oh no, David would insist it was all her own imagination and then there would be another row about her self-pity.

  'Isobel, Isobel,' she thought, 'you bring so much delight on one hand and have caused so much pain on the other. Oh why wasn’t I told that parenting was so hard?' Sarah sat there, her mind devoid of thought, just staring into space. She could just make out the quiet sound of Isobel’s music box playing and again found herself miming the words; Girls and boys come out to play.

  •

  'She’s a strange one really,' she thought, 'never brought a friend back from school. Spends all her time in her room playing her music box and talking to herself in her mirror. Maybe I should suggest she bring a friend home for tea, and then David and I can spend a bit of time together. Yes, that’s settled then.'

  Feeling happier about her decision, Sarah rose and put the kettle on to make herself a coffee. The thought of Tina at school sprung to her mind. How could David find that funny? Then she remembered Mr. Peters, the gardener. Why would he suddenly stop working there after all those years? He was so sure his son was taking over from him; he’d even been training him up for the last few years. She would have to pay him a visit in the morning, see if she could get to the bottom of it. As if she didn’t have enough to do already though; she really wanted to start on some work again tomorrow, but it looked like it would have to wait again.

  She pictured her studio and decided she would sit there to drink her coffee.

  •

  Miss Cuthbert woke with a start. The room was still in darkness and the time shone red from her alarm clock; 2:30.

  Her eyes were darting around her bedroom but she could see nothing. Her heart was beating a tattoo in her chest and she could feel fear rising in her throat.

  “Who’s there?” she cried out. She pulled the bedclothes up round her neck and her hand brushed against her crucifix. Grabbing it in her fingers she raised it slowly above the covers.

  “Who’s there? I know someone is! Who is it and what do you want?” she called out again, more bravely than the first time. She could hear the steady breathing of someone else but the darkness concealed him or her, completely.

  Suddenly, a sickening, deep laugh penetrated the silence. Mrs. Cuthbert screamed. Then nothing.

  The room was again empty, apart from herself. That oppressive feeling had been lifted and Mrs. Cuthbert felt her breath escape and she realised she'd been holding it. She rose from her bed and made her way to the living room. She knew exactly who had been in her room and knew she would be unable to sleep again tonight. She really needed to see Father Mather in the morning, before it was too late.

  Isobel lay in bed, the yellow of her eyes visible in the darkness.

  She laughed. “Soon, old lady, very soon,” she said.

  Her music box played on.

  Chapter Nine.

  Sunday dawned and brought with it the threat of rain. The sky was black and heavy. Sarah sat at the kitchen table drinking her coffee. David and Isobel were still asleep and Sarah decided not to wake them. There was no need, she thought, they wouldn’t be coming to Church with her anyway. Plus, David’s words the night before would still be hanging heavily between them. In all the years she had known David, he had never spoken to her so hurtfully before. She thought about the fun she and Isobel had had the day before, at the coffee afternoon. 'Well, I had fun,' she thought and remembered how Isobel had spent most of the afternoon playing alone and she also remembered the way Isobel had stared at her, only moving her glare when Sarah had smiled.

  She had been wrong when she told Carol that Isobel had been the best thing that had ever happened to her. In fact, if she were honest Isobel had brought nothing but misery to her life, but how could she have told Carol that?

  Quietly, Sarah got washed and dressed, then, after leaving a brief note for David, she left the house.

  Despite the dark and heavy clouds overhead, the day was still warm, too warm for this time of year, and the garden was looking as sorry for itself as Sarah was feeling. The normal lush green of the grass was browning from being singed by the sun and the normally bright colours of the flowers were dull and withered.

  In the lane, the trees looked just as forlorn. 'Autumn should be upon us but the weather still indicates summer,' she thought.

  The trees were blooming new buds and the old leaves were turning beautiful shades of reds and gold. Out with the old and in with the new, Sarah found herself saying.

  Mr. and Mrs. Peters’ cottage sat at the entrance of the lane, although still on the property of the Manor.

  •

  The Manor owned three other cottages, all scattered around the vast land, although the other three were empty and had been for as long as Sarah could remember.

  Her grandmother had once told her different members of staff at the manor - the head cook and her family, the head butler and his family - had occupied them, and Sarah couldn’t remember who had occupied the third cottage.

  Mr. Peters opened the door as he saw Sarah approaching.

  “Been expecting you, come in,” he said as he turned his back on her and went back to the small lounge. The room was tastefully decorated in peach and cream and the large bay window to the front let in the light, making the room appear brighter than it really was.

  “Take a seat,” he said.

  “Thank you, Mr. Peters,” Sarah answered, thinking how best to approach the subject. She needn’t have bothered though, as before she could think of what to say, Mr. Peters said, “I know why you’re here, Miss, and you’re wasting your time. I won’t be

  staying.” He reached for his tobacco pouch that was on the small round coffee table and, taking out a paper, began to roll himself a cigarette.

  “But why? Have David or I said, or done, anything to offend you?”

  “No, neither you nor David, Miss.”

  “Then who? My grandparents would be so upset that you are leaving ... you’ve even been training up Matthew to take your place when you retire. Is that it Mr. Peters, you wish to retire now? If so, I’m more than happy for Matthew to take over.”

  “No, that’s not it, love, got a few good years in me yet.” He smiled.

  “I w
asn’t, I mean, I didn’t mean to insinuate...”

  Laughing, Mr. Peters said, “I know you didn’t, lass, I’m only teasing. We’ve decided Matthew won’t be taking over and I will be leaving at the end of the month all the same.”

  Mrs. Peters came through from the kitchen, carrying a tray of coffee.

  “I thought I heard your voice, dear,” she said and, placing the tray on the table, she handed Sarah a mug of coffee.

  “Thank you,” Sarah said as she accepted the steaming drink. She hugged the mug to her.

  “Please tell me why you have decided to leave?” Mrs. Peters looked at her husband.

  “Now, dear, you don’t want to worry yourself about that. Drink your coffee while it’s still hot and then we’ll give you a lift to Church, if you like? David not going again this week?”

  “No,” Sarah answered, a little embarrassed. “He’s staying home with Isobel, and she’s a non believer.”

  She looked up to see the look shared between husband and wife and a chill ran down her spine.

  Outside, Sarah and Mrs. Peters got in the car while Mr. Peters locked up the cottage. Turning to Sarah, Mrs. Peters took her hand and whispered, “You should choose who you have living with you more carefully, my dear, she’s evil.”

  Mr. Peters had swung open the car door as Sarah said,

  “What do you mean?”

  Mr. Peters glared at his wife. She instantly let go of Sarah’s hand and looked away.

  “I told you to leave it, didn’t I? Don’t listen to the silly old woman, Sarah, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

  With that, he started the engine, put the car in gear and drove away.

  “Has Isobel done or said anything to offend you, is that why your leaving?” she asked quizzically.

  “I said leave it, Miss, she don’t know what she’s saying!” he snapped.

  They travelled the short distance to the Church in silence.