The HUM: The complete novel

by Michael Christopher Carter

  Marco took lead vocals for some of the songs. His tone was nothing special, maybe a little whiny, but the fact they were about love (albeit the love of Jesus), and that he sang them directly to Carys made them lip-bitingly alluring.

  Marco’s father did a great job of raising hallelujahs from the congregation who sang and clapped through a frenzy of worship. Carys could have found the whole thing appallingly self-indulgent, but she was smitten.

  From the moment the old gent at the door had looked so genuinely delighted to meet her, she’d felt like she was with an extended family. Beaming faces alighted every time she caught the eye of another member of the flock. It was all most heartening.

  She enjoyed coffee with Marco along with others in the group. Biscuits, other refreshments, and impressive cakes were offered to a crowd insatiable after the energetic morning. The Ellis’s left happy, full of treats, and the love of their Lord and his herd.

  A few social engagements were arranged under the guise of Bible study groups, and Carys had particular interest whenever Marco Paulo was expected.

  Realising, when she’d sounded his name for the first time how unfortunate it was, she would (as she expected would everybody else) be forever put in mind of Marco Polo. She’d refrain from mentioning it for fear of repeating countless others before her.

  At one of the study sessions, Geraint and Diane decided they’d take the next important step in their Christianity and become baptised. With their names on the list, they were told to invite family and friends—partly to celebrate, and partly to spread the word. Of course, they invited Stella.

  Two weeks passed. The baptism was booked and due to take place on Sunday with Stella due to arrive this afternoon.

  Carys’s concern for her absent period had turned to acute anxiety. She’d have to buy a pregnancy testing kit. She’d have to try to block it from her mind until then.

  Stella was met off the train by Diane and Carys at the little unmanned Narberth Station. She had a small green suitcase that fit easily into the boot of the little Fiesta Diane had recently bought. A car had proved rather more of a necessity here in Pembrokeshire than in Royston.

  Diane was pleased to see her comrade from the terrible fortnight in Royston of a month ago. Carys greeted her former guardian with a sense of relief. There were delicate issues she wanted to air. Spoiling her parent’s baptism wasn’t an option, but she had to find out.

  Having persuaded Diane that taking Stella for lunch in one of the excellent café’s the small town boasted was a good idea, under the guise of getting money from the cash point, Carys popped to the pharmacy to buy the box that would end her misery or begin a whole new one.

  She met up with the two ladies further up the street where they were deliberating the pros and cons of various eating establishments. They opted for a Spanish themed deli-cum-café with the confusing moniker of Ultra-Comida.

  Walking through the rustic shop front, delicious smells titillating their senses guided them to a flag-stoned area beyond, bathed in brilliant sunshine from the high glass ceiling. Their table was overlooked by a busy kitchen visible over the counter.

  After choosing various tapas displayed on blackboards dotted about, Carys excused herself. She hoped taking her handbag to the toilet hadn’t aroused suspicion. Opening the door, she glanced back at the table, relieved Stella and her mother weren’t looking in her direction.

  Once inside, fumbling fingers struggled to find the testing kit in her bag. Exhaling through puckered lips, she unearthed it with a victorious flourish and discarded the wrappers, grateful they wouldn’t be discovered in a bin at home. Yanking her jeans and knickers down, she squatted over the toilet.

  As her right hand held the little stick receptacle, she pee’d on it and pulled it out. Shaking off the excess, she placed it carefully on the basin to develop its answer while she finished.

  She sat welded to the toilet seat, unable to bring herself to look at the life changing little line. With a resolved stomp, she re-dressed and washed her hands. Ready to leave, all she had to do was get her result. Picking it up without looking at it, she needed to be sure. She couldn’t risk glimpsing an uncertain conclusion.

  “Oh, my god. I’m shaking!” she murmured under her breath. When she could put it off no longer, she clutched the stick the perfect distance from her face to see it clearly but kept her eyes closed. Forcing them open in a burst of blinking lids, she stared at the window of fortune.

  She’d done the right thing, buying the expensive, no-room-for-ambiguity, tell-it-to-you-straight type of testing kit, because even in plain English she couldn’t quite believe it.

  ‘You are pregnant, 4-6 weeks,’ the little piece of plastic informed her. Colour drained from her pretty face. Steadying herself on the wash-hand basin, slumping back onto the toilet, she sat with her head in her hands.

  The only carnal experience she’d ever known had been the disgusting night with Stephen Holmes. She didn’t even remember anything baby producing. It must have happened though. The evidence was clear. She’d have to reconsider pushing charges of rape.

  The University offers mattered little now. She would keep her baby. Shocked, definitely, but part of her was even pleased. In fact, as an enormous grin bisected her face, busily regaining some of its normal colour, she had to admit she was thrilled.

  Her life had lacked a point. Her parents had always assumed she’d go to University, but for what purpose? She had no particular career in mind. Her life just stretched out aimlessly before her. But all that had changed in a second. She may have had no idea what she would do with her life, but now she did. She was going to be a mum.

  With a quick exhalation, she remembered her dining companions. Reopening the door back into the café, she could see food on the table, and the concerned faces of the two ladies peering up at her.

  “Everything alright, bach?” Diane asked as she got close enough.

  “Yes. Fine now, thanks. Just a bit of a dodgy tummy that’s all.”

  Diane frowned, but with nothing practical to suggest, sympathetic glances sufficed until they began to eat their delicious food.

  Carys didn’t know how she’d tell her mum and dad. Would they be angry? They’d be angry with Stephen for sure. Would it set her dad off on his weird busy-bodying again? At least it might give him a focus. He’d never recovered from that day on the railway.

  Glancing from her plate to Stella’s kindly face, she was desperate for her advice, but she had to wait. Her parent’s special day in church had to come first. There was no hurry. The baby wasn’t going anywhere, was it?

  The obligatory tour of the house and land followed immediately their arrival at Ty Hedd. Diane enthused about plans for a garden centre or whatever they decided. Stella made all the right noises, but she’d heard this sort of thing before.

  “Hello, stranger,” Geraint’s ever-deepening Welsh accent hailed from the driveway as they stepped past the gateway from the field. “What do you think of our new place, then?” he grinned. From a distance he looked the picture of happiness, the pain in his eyes only detectable closer up.

  The months away from Cambridge were healing him. Carys hoped his new faith would tip the balance firmly in favour of contentment.

  Her own anxiety caused her to need to keep distracted so she made a suggestion.

  “Shall we take Stella down to Tenby?” Seeing the glances at wrist-watches, and Stella stifling a yawn, she tried hard to overcome any objections before they gained a majority. “I know you must be tired after your long journey, Stella, but it really is beautiful, and you might not get the chance again before you leave on Monday.”

  Carys could almost see the thoughts taking place, and as the faces softened it was no surprise when “Oh, alright then,” fell from each of their lips.

  The views didn’t fail to impress. As soon as Stella saw the palm-lined crenulated castle walls of the mediaeval old town she gasped with delight. And her grin when the car swept round the Esplanade as she g
limpsed her first sight of the mile and a half of golden sand, fringed by turquoise ocean, made it clear she was pleased they’d come.

  Fish, chips and an ice-cream were devoured before they headed back inland and the nagging anxiety tugged once more at Cary’s good mood.

  She filled Saturday with an itinerary of castles, undiscovered coves and a long scenic drive through the wilds of the Preseli Hills. Guilt that her tour guide act was mainly a manic excuse to avoid the inevitable discovery of her secret piqued when Stella announced she could see herself moving down.

  “That’s known as the ‘Pembrokeshire Pull,’” Geraint beamed proudly. “There’s so much natural beauty here,” he gushed as though he was the leading authority, wafting his arms left and right, demonstrating it was the view outside he was talking about, in case there was any doubt.

  “Drive ten miles in any direction and it’s hard to believe you’re in the same country, let alone the same county.” His hands wandered dangerously from their job of steering the car with his gesticulations. “Everything’s so varied. You can be on a mountain top in the morning, walking through waterfalls at lunchtime and be on a secluded secret cove or bustling golden beach for tea!”

  “Sounds tiring,” Diane scorned, wondering where all this enthusiasm had come from before biting her lip. Even Stella was lost for words and forced a nod and smile. Maybe it was excitement about tomorrow.

  Carys awoke to noises of people getting ready. Stumbling sleepily to the bathroom, a glance into her mum and dad’s room revealed Diane applying full make-up. Why, thought Carys? She’d be dunked in a pool in an hour.

  Drying off after her shower, boy-style - with a vigorous rub with a towel, Carys put on clothes she considered her best, but they were just newer versions of the jeans and top she wore all the time. The outfit she’d bought to celebrate their exams results had been hastily discarded after the consequences they’d achieved

  “Fifteen minutes,” Geraint called up the stairs. Carys did her best to put her own make on and came downstairs a more glamorous vision of her usual perfection.

  A pang of nerves spoiled her desire to see Marco. Any hopes she’d had of something happening between them had surely been quashed by Friday’s discovery? Oh well. You can’t miss what you’ve never had.

  They arrived at the swimming pool which served the town and two of the local schools. Today it served Narberth Christian Fellowship for the baptism of Geraint and Diane Ellis.

  Around the poolside stood the congregation who usually filled The Town Hall, precarious in their Sunday finery.

  Pastor Dan Paulo was in fine form, commanding his audience with some relevant scripture. By the time he invited Geraint and Diane to join him in the shallow end of the pool everyone could feel the love.

  Everyone except Carys. Her heart dropped and beads of cold sweat highlighted her brow as soon as her mind assessed the sound. Gripping the hymn sheet she’d been handed on arrival until it almost ripped in her fingers, Carys took some much needed deep breaths.

  The humming she’d left behind nearly three-hundred miles away was here. Faint, but undeniable. Glancing from one person to another, Carys shook. Serene smiles on faces swaying from side to side in god-loving bliss assailed Carys’s solace. Couldn’t they hear it?

  Putting a hand over her mouth to stop from calling out as well as prevent her being sick, trembling turned to violent shaking. One or two of the congregation began giving her concerned looks.

  “Are you alright, dear?” was the last thing she heard before everything went black.

  Everyone was clapping and cheering. Her mum and dad were out of the pool and dripping wet as she sat on a chair she had no recollection sitting on.

  “You fainted, bach,” a kindly lady, squeezing her shoulder told her. “It can be overwhelming, can’t it?”

  Not waiting for a response, she turned to join the congratulations flowing to Diane and Geraint. In the hubbub, Carys sat, allowing it to wash over her. That’s what it had been. Not the hum again. She’d fainted. She was pregnant after all.

  The expectant faces of her parents peered across at her ‘What did you think?’ their raised eyebrows implored. A peace shone from their effervescent faces and Carys knew at once she wanted what they had. She needed it.

  The congregation made their way to the Town Hall for the customary coffee and bible chat.

  “So tell me, Carys,” Pastor Dan prompted. “How did you feel about your parent’s baptism?”

  “I loved it,” she blurted, surprising herself. “In fact, I’d like to do it. Be baptised, that is.”

  “Excellent, my dear. Most splendid news.” But before she’d even finished asking, she bit her lip, and fell silent. “What is it? What’s worrying you?” he asked with a frown.

  “You mustn’t tell anybody. Promise me! Especially not my parents!” she whispered. “I’ll have tell them soon, but you see… I think I may be pregnant.”

  Dan stepped back, jutting out his jaw and Carys was certain he was furious with her. Wishing she could melt into the floor, she stared at her feet and awaited her rebuking. Then with a shake of her shoulder, a familiar rage bubbled within. She’d done nothing to be ashamed of.

  “I was raped,” she glowered. “A few weeks ago, back in England,” she said, eyes widening as she realised the accusation was with absolute certainty for the first time.

  Dan Paulo’s expression softened as he regained his holy sympathy. “I’m sure we can still offer you a Baptism. It’s what it’s all about: putting the past behind you and moving on in Jesus Christ.”

  “I will tell Mum and Dad,” Carys assured. “I only found out myself a couple of days ago and I didn’t want to spoil today for them.”

  Dan nodded. “Very noble. We’ll set a date. It’ll be fantastic, don’t you worry!”

  The Ellis’s and their house guest arrived back at ‘Ty Hedd’ and prepared for a traditional Sunday roast. Whilst the cooking was going on, Carys took Stella to one side and broke the news. Now she’d told two people, telling the actual two people whose opinion really mattered would be easier; she hoped.

  “I’ll back you up if you think it’ll help,” Stella offered. “We should tell them over dinner.” Noticing Carys’s, slender shoulders slumping despondently, she placed a reassuring hand on her knee provoking a dewy sheen to her floor-ward gaze. “Don’t feel bad. It’s not a normal situation, is it? And it’s not as though you’re fifteen or anything.”

  Carys sighed and wiped her eyes. It would be fine. She felt better about telling her parents they were soon to become grandparents with the calming presence of sensible Stella on her side. Even so, as the smell of cooking became more pronounced, so did her nerves. By the time she sat at the table, them noticing something wrong was inevitable.

  “You don’t look right, Carys bach. Did you not enjoy church?” Geraint probed.

  Stella stepped in before things got awkward. “Carys has something delicate she needs to tell you both.” Diane glanced at Geraint then they both stared at Carys. Her mouth dry, her tongue welded to the floor of her mouth. She didn’t know why she was so jittery.

  Stella, not wanting any of them to suffer the long silence whilst Carys struggled to make a sound, stepped in again. “She’s pregnant,” she announced abruptly.

  It was Diane and Geraint’s turn lose their voices. They looked at their daughter in shock, as though it might be possible Stella had made it up. Carys confirmed with a nod that she hadn’t. No-one needed to ask who the father was.

  “That little shit!” Geraint couldn’t help himself. “He’ll have to give you maintenance. And we’ll open up the case again, yeah?” He glared at them with seething fury. “He can’t get away with this.” A cough from Diane stopped him in his stride.

  “If you still want to go off to Uni, I can look after your baby for you,” she offered with a nervous smile. Carys’s grin widened. She was so proud of her parents. Her dad might be strict, and a bit stressed and manic lately. And her mother mi
ght lose touch with reality once in a while, but they were truly wonderful and supportive and she loved them dearly.

  “You haven’t asked Carys what she wants to do,” Stella interjected. Diane was taken aback.

  “Of course. Sorry, darling. I didn’t think…”

  “We struggled so much to have you, anything else… Well, it wouldn’t occur to us. But, no pressure, cariad,” Geraint choked on the words.

  “I’d never dream of not keeping my baby! Being a mum will be wonderful.”

  The adults, with tears of joy in their eyes, all hugged Carys until she was suffocating and had to fend them off.

  Chapter Nineteen.

  Carys’s Disbelief

  Clutching the phone number her dad had provided, Carys sat in front of the phone. Picking the receiver up, putting it to her ear, she slammed it down for the third time, heart pounding in her ears. What was she afraid of? Hearing the voice of her rapist? But she was in the position of strength now. She hadn’t decided exactly how he’d pay, but he should be afraid; not her.

  Picking up the receiver for a fourth and final time, she dialled the number, determined to have it dealt with before her mum and Stella returned from their walk.

  It rang four, five, six times. Carys expected it to be answered by voicemail by then so was surprised when an actual human, sounding the right age and tone to be Stephen’s mother, answered.

  “Hello?” Stephen’s mother inquired.

  “Hello,” Carys replied. “Is it possible to speak to Stephen, please?”

  “Hold on. I’ll see if he’s in. Who’s calling?” She must be used to girls calling her son, she thought. Debating saying a different name so as not to alarm the mother, she decided alarm would be a good thing to cause and said confidently, “Carys Ellis.”

  There was a long, silent pause from the other end, as though she were weighing her options. She opted for, “Hold the line,” and went off to fetch (or rouse, Carys suspected), her son.