Echoes in the Walls

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Echoes in the Walls Page 22

by V. C. Andrews


  “The gift is that I’m not going to be living here all the time.”

  “Where will you be living? Back in the help’s quarters? That’s not a gift,” she said, smiling. “I used to tell my friends it was once a dungeon.”

  “Mentally, I suppose it was. No, I won’t be living anywhere in Wyndemere, Samantha. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  She looked suspicious. “Was your mother fired? Do you have to move away?”

  “If she was, you’d be the most miserable person in this mansion, Samantha, and the sad thing is you don’t realize it. You don’t realize how she has cared for you, protected you, even when I wished she didn’t all these years. How many mothers do you think are like her? Certainly not your real mother.”

  Her face softened. “I’m not saying I want her to be fired and made to move away.”

  “I’m sure you don’t. You’re not that stupid. You know you’d be the loneliest person in the world.”

  She looked remorseful, even a bit frightened. “So what’s your big gift, then?”

  “They’re sending me to a private school where you sleep in a dorm. I’ll be here only on holidays and maybe the summer. Maybe not. I don’t know. Sometimes there are summer programs at these schools. Sometimes they send you to Europe with a group. I could be gone for years.”

  She genuinely looked stunned and upset.

  “Why aren’t you smiling? Doesn’t that make you happy? You’ll be queen of the roost, Samantha.”

  “What roost? No, it doesn’t make me happy. I don’t have a brother here, and now I won’t have a sister.”

  “You still have your friends, Samantha. You can probably have them over more frequently once I’m gone.”

  “My friends don’t like sleeping over here that much,” she admitted. “They like coming here to do things sometimes, but they would rather go home after dinner.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You know,” I said. “You’re afraid to say it. I don’t blame you. They think this place is haunted.”

  “It’s not!” She looked at me sharply, back to being Bea’s daughter. “You’re the one who’s happy my friends don’t stay over. You hate me,” she said, her eyes tearing.

  I shook my head and sighed as if I had reached down for my final breath. “I don’t hate anyone. When you hate someone, he or she usually doesn’t care anyway, and you walk around with oil boiling in your heart. You’ll learn that it robs you of smiles. Sometimes,” I said, looking out the window, “you can’t even appreciate a sunny day. You end up hating yourself, hating what you’ve become. Take my advice for once, Samantha. Don’t hate anyone. Just . . . ignore him or her. Use your eraser.”

  “What eraser?”

  I smiled. “You have to find it yourself, Samantha. It’s in your head and your heart.”

  “There’s no eraser in my head or my heart. That’s stupid. You’re crazy,” she said.

  She looked around, glum again. Despite her clawing jealousies and envy, she had spent a lot of time in this room with me, asking questions, talking about boys and school, sharing her little secrets, and, despite her personality, struggling to find a sister. Wyndemere House was already filled with empty rooms in which echoes went to sleep in the very walls. Now mine would be added.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure no one bothers your room when you’re gone,” she said. “Just in case you come right back.”

  “Don’t bet on that, Samantha. Our father is too determined that I don’t, especially after Ryder comes home again.”

  She looked down, pondering. Then she looked up quickly. “Are you going to take your dolls?”

  “I might,” I said.

  She looked even sadder.

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  She stared a moment. “It’s still not fair,” she said, then turned and left.

  That was probably her pathetic way of saying something nice to me, I thought, and for the moment, at least, I had someone else to pity besides myself, but that moment didn’t last long. My mother wasn’t ready to forgive or forget, as she was about to demonstrate.

  I thought it was some sort of holdover from the days when she lived in England. When either she or her sister did something her parents thought wrong, she was sent to her room. At dinnertime, food was brought to her. Part of the punishment was to eat alone. Those were the days when being with your family kept your heart warm and hopeful. It was painful to be denied it. Truthfully, it was painful for me now, too. I was quite unlike many of my classmates, who thought nothing could be more boring than family dinners when they could be with their friends hanging out at malls or in friends’ basements and bedrooms while everyone texted everyone with the same question: What are you doing now?

  My mother inflicted her parents’ punishment on me tonight, but she looked like she was in far more pain about it than I was. She brought the tray in and placed it on my desk.

  “This is your dinner. I will return in an hour to pick up your tray, Fern.”

  “This is silly, Mummy, and unfair,” I added, hating how I sounded like Samantha. But it was unfair.

  “I want you to spend time alone, thinking about everything. Tomorrow, after you return from school, we’ll talk. Eat your food before it gets cold.” She started out and turned in the doorway to look back at me. “No one is happy about this,” she said, and left.

  No one was happy about this? What did she think I was? Ecstatic?

  I’m trying to swim up a waterfall, I thought. The more I protested and the more I denied the accusations, the worse things were. I picked at my food and then sprawled on my bed and dozed. My mother came in nearly an hour later and saw how little I had eaten.

  “You know he wants to send me to a private school, don’t you?” I asked as she started to pick up the tray, avoiding looking at me.

  She paused and turned to me. “Under the circumstances, it’s probably the best thing,” she said. “Come right home after school tomorrow. Your father is working his schedule so he can come home early, hopefully with information, and then we’ll have a full discussion about it all.”

  “My father,” I said disdainfully, and turned away.

  She picked up the tray and left. I was going to return to my homework but thought, Why bother now? Instead, I took a shower and got ready for bed. A little while later, Dillon called.

  “You still want to do this?” he asked immediately.

  “More than ever.”

  “Okay. I found a way to get you in,” he said. “Because of the schedule there, we’ll have to leave during the school day. We’ll pretend we’re going to lunch, and then we’ll leave through the door in the west wing. It opens closer to the parking lot. Less chance of being seen.”

  “You’re going to get into so much trouble, too, Dillon. Are you sure?”

  “My parents will barely notice. See you soon,” he said.

  I hung up, but my heart was pounding. How would I fall asleep tonight? My mind was spinning like a roulette wheel. Would it stop on a lucky number?

  If Dillon really did get me in and I found Ryder, how would he react? Would he have another tantrum? Would he hurt himself? Would the police be called? Exactly how much trouble would I have gotten Dillon into, too? We both would have cut school. He and I would probably be suspended. What would his parents do? Would it affect his attending college? Couldn’t we get criminal records for breaking into the clinic?

  I didn’t fall asleep until it was almost morning. It was the first time in a long time that I needed my alarm clock to wake me on a school day, too. And when I awoke, the questions that were on my mind when I had gone to sleep were still there. I was in something of a daze while I dressed. Fortunately, my father wasn’t at breakfast. I dreaded feeling his anger. He had already left the house. Neither my mother nor Mrs. Marlene said anything much to me, nor I to them. It was like eating after a funeral.

  All this was true for everyone ex
cept, of course, Samantha. She complained about not being able to have just a doughnut for breakfast. Mrs. Marlene gave her a good lecture on nutrition. I ate what I could. My mother was watching me with side glances but said nothing except to remind me to come home right after school. I imagined she thought my avoiding looking at her was a result of my guilty feelings. I was simply afraid she’d realize I had other intentions. She had always been keen when it came to how I felt and what I thought.

  When we got into the limo, Samantha rushed to tell Parker about my being sent off to a private school. She was still feeling sorrier for herself and surprised both Parker and me by complaining that she wasn’t being sent off to the same private school. I wondered if she had spoken to one of her snobby friends, maybe Raegan Kelly, who probably told her I would be in a better place that cost a lot.

  Parker said nothing, but when he looked at me as I got out of the car at school, I could see the sadness in his eyes. Chances were that he’d be another person I would disappoint today. He was the one who had dived into the lake and saved Ryder’s life. Everything that happened to Ryder since was very important to Parker.

  Maybe Dillon was right yesterday, I thought as I walked into the building. Maybe I should just leave and not look back. Maybe I should become someone else. Twenty years ago, my mother had walked out of her house and changed her life, practically changed her identity. She was in deep emotional pain doing it, I was sure, but she was determined to follow her dream, and she didn’t look back. It wasn’t a dream of mine to leave the only life I had known, but I was losing the freedom to choose anything for myself while I lived in the mansion now. I couldn’t even choose my dreams.

  Dillon met me in the hallway by my locker. He was carrying a shopping bag.

  “What’s that?”

  “Our key to getting in,” he said, and he reached into the bag to bring out two T-shirts with the words Sasco’s Food Products in bold letters across their fronts. He showed me two black caps as well. He put them back in the bag and walked with me toward my homeroom. Ivy was waiting for us by the door.

  “I don’t understand what those are for,” I said.

  “I found out the clinic gets deliveries from Sasco’s. There’s an entrance for deliveries at the right rear of the building. I bought two cases of soups that we’ll bring in as a supposed special delivery. If anyone at the clinic asks, you and I work at Sasco’s part-time.

  “But,” he said, holding me back before we reached Ivy, “the best is yet to come.”

  “What?”

  “Remember the hostess at Nature’s Ways, Maya?”

  “Yes, so?”

  “Turns out her sister works at the clinic. Maintenance. A fancy name for cleaning girl.”

  “How did you find that out?”

  “I went to Nature’s Ways last night, and Maya sat with me. It wasn’t very busy. We had more conversation than ever. She wanted to know about you. Were you my girlfriend, etcetera. When I explained who you were, she was excited. She knows Wyndemere House. Of course, she knows who your father is. She knew all about your brother’s accident and told me that her sister Toby works at the clinic.”

  Ivy, now curious, started to walk toward us.

  He continued to speak but more quickly. “She texted me this morning with your brother’s room number and the schedule he follows. That’s why I told you we have to leave around lunchtime. I went on the Internet and got the layout of the place. I know exactly how to go.”

  “What are you two talking about so intensely?” Ivy asked.

  I looked at Dillon. His revelations and plan had whisked away my hesitation.

  “Where to go for dinner this weekend to celebrate,” Dillon told her.

  “Celebrate what?”

  “My birthday.”

  “Your birthday? But . . . I don’t know why, but I remember it was in July.”

  “It is, but I don’t have to wait until July to celebrate it, do I?” he asked, then winked and hurried off to his homeroom.

  “What am I missing?” Ivy asked me.

  “You said he was unpredictable. Why are you surprised at the outrageous things he says?” I smiled and started for our homeroom.

  The only question was whether I could hide my absolute terror about what I was planning to do.

  “I’m looking forward to the audition so much,” Ivy said as we entered our homeroom. “Aren’t you?”

  “Oh, yes, but put it out of your mind. You’ll make yourself too nervous.”

  “Like I could do that,” she said, and we took our seats.

  I looked at the wall clock. In a little more than three hours, I would either commit to Dillon’s plan or back out. Either way, I was sure I would be changing my life. Every minute would be different.

  When you watch a clock, it seems like time stands still. Most of the time during my morning classes, my mind was off somewhere else. I almost got caught ignoring the lesson in math when Mr. Brizel asked me to work out a problem. He liked us to do it aloud so he could evaluate our thought process. I did okay, and he moved on to someone else, but I could feel the ring of sweat at the base of my neck.

  Ivy, who noticed I was behaving differently, said she attributed it to the auditions coming up. “You’re looking more nervous than I am,” she said between classes. “You were the one who told me to put it out of my mind, too.”

  “Do as I say, not as I do, remember?”

  “Ha, ha. That’s an excuse for hypocrisy that some of our teachers use, especially those who still smoke.”

  When the bell rang to break for lunch, I felt my heart stop and start. For a moment, I wondered if I would faint as soon as I stood up. Ivy waited for me at the door. Unlike me, she couldn’t stop rushing the day.

  “Go on ahead, Ivy. I need to go to the bathroom.”

  “Nervous Nellie,” she said. “Maybe I should go with you.”

  “No. Get our table for Dillon and me. I’ll be right there.”

  “Don’t throw up or anything,” she warned, and smiled.

  If she only knew how close I was to doing just that, I thought. As soon as she moved off, I hurried to my hall locker, got my jacket, and then walked quickly, my head down, to meet Dillon at our rendezvous in the west wing of the school. He was already there. This was it. We were starting with a major school no-no, cutting classes and leaving the building without permission.

  “Are you really sure you want to do this, Dillon?”

  “Mentally, I’m already gone,” he said. He took my hand, instinctively knowing I needed him to do just that. Then he opened the door, and we slipped out of the building. It was pretty cold, which was fortunate. No one was hovering around the parking lot. Neither of us looked back.

  We got into his car quickly. He started the engine and backed out of his parking space. A number of spaces were reserved for seniors. I looked at the rear seat and saw the cases of soup with Sasco’s name and logo on them.

  “You want to get the T-shirt on,” he said, and opened his jacket to reveal he already had put his on.

  I took off my jacket, then took off my blouse and put on the T-shirt.

  “Look all right?” I asked, turning to him.

  He smiled. “Best-looking part-time worker they’ll have,” he said. “Take one of those caps, too.” He nodded at the bag.

  I dug in and found a black cap. I found the other one and handed it to him.

  “Ivy’s probably freaking out waiting for me in the cafeteria by now,” I said. “She’ll go looking for me in the bathroom, thinking I’m sick with nervousness about the audition or something. When she can’t find me and doesn’t see you, either, she’ll really freak out.”

  “She’ll be upset we didn’t bring her along.”

  “I doubt that. Cutting class? Her mother would have heart failure. Literally. How are your parents going to take this? Really, Dillon?”

  “My mother won’t have a nervous breakdown, but she’ll badger my father about it. He will probably take away my car privi
leges.”

  “For how long?”

  “Until he forgets. A few days,” he added, smiling. “It’s been sort of this way all my life. Actually, I think they’ve been grateful that I didn’t turn out to be Jack the Ripper.”

  I sat back. Dillon made a turn and sped up. He figured it would take just about the same time as lunch hour at school for us to get to the clinic. Some of my classmates might ask Ivy where I was and note that Dillon wasn’t there, either, but that would be the extent of their interest.

  However, a little while later, our teachers for our first classes of the afternoon would notice our absence, and messages would be sent to Dean McDermott’s office. The dean and his secretary would check the bathrooms first. They might search other places in the school, and then they would return to the office and inform our parents that we were missing. Probably the police would be notified, and a search would start to find Dillon’s car. There was nothing to be done about that now.

  As Mrs. Marlene might say, the die had been cast.

  There was no turning back. When the clinic came into view, I began to consider what I would say to Ryder when I confronted him. What would I ask? Would I try to find out if Samantha had been lying about him? Was that even a wise route to take? No, I thought. Skip all that, and simply tell him how much you still care for him and how you don’t blame him for anything.

  The real question was whether he would even realize I was there. The words almost catatonic loomed. The potential for this being a disaster or futile was pretty high.

  Before Dillon turned into the entrance from the highway, he reviewed the layout of the clinic. I think my whole body was on fire with fear as he spoke. Was I breathing? It was hard to swallow. As soon as we drove through the entrance, he bore right to go to the far corner and the delivery entrance.

  “Just about there,” he said.

  “What if it’s locked?” I asked when he pulled near the door.

  “There’s a buzzer, but it’s not usually locked until late in the afternoon, Toby says.”

  “Won’t she get into trouble for giving us all this information?”

  “We won’t mention her name, Fern. We never spoke to her. That’s not a lie. Everything I know came from Maya. I promised we would never give away Toby if we got caught, and we won’t give away Maya, either, or it would lead to Toby. This was something we did entirely on our own. I’ll admit to the research on the Internet, and they’ll believe us. Agreed?”

 

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