Inheritance

by Thomas Wymark

In the background I heard Neil’s voice.

  ‘What’s wrong, Chris? What’s the matter?’

  I fell back onto the chair, almost tipped it over. It sounded as though hundreds of trees were blowing in a gale, but I could still hear Neil’s voice over the noise. I looked about to see if the trees nearby were bending against the wind.

  ‘She knows me,’ I said. ‘She’s coming to me. She knows me.’

  I gripped the table to steady myself. It started shaking too. Josie started crying. Oli went to her, Abi reached out for my arm.

  ‘Chris,’ she said. ‘What’s happening. Are you OK?’

  The horrendous noise calmed a little. Oli stood in front of Josie. I could no longer see her. I started coughing and sneezing. It was as though my body was trying to rid itself of the overpowering smell of chemicals. The fog cleared and I became aware of being in the back-garden, sitting at the table — shaking.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ I said. ‘I am so, so sorry.’

  ‘Should I call the doctor, Neil?’ Abi said.

  Neil shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. I think she’s OK. Would you mind getting her a glass of water from the kitchen though?’

  Did he think I was drunk? Was that what he thought was going on? Well, let him think that. It was better that than the truth.

  My mind rushed through images. The girl in the dream. The fog. Josie. Had I dreamt of attacking Josie? My best friend’s daughter? One of my son’s closest friends?

  Had I raped Josie? Was that what was happening in my mind?

  Something inside was telling me I should go to her, to make sure she was OK, but I couldn’t. I tried to push my body to move, but it wouldn’t. My hand, clamped to the table, was as paralysed as the rest of me. Apart from the shaking.

  My mind, though, was far from paralysed. It tore through everything that had happened. I had been happily sat outside in the safety of my own garden, when everything changed. Physically, everything changed. Surely Abi had seen the trees blowing. Surely Neil had heard the howling wind. Surely Oli had been as lost in the fog as I had.

  My mind shifted beyond that. How would I move forward?

  What would I say?

  I didn’t think I could tell Neil — or anyone — what was really going on inside my head. The school wouldn’t want me to continue working there. Abi and Oli wouldn’t want me as their friend, when in my head and in my sleep I had attacked their little girl.

  The shaking turned to shivering, but I wasn’t cold. I had goosebumps on my arms and up the back of my neck. I was petrified. I had never known fear like it. Even when I was being attacked I hadn’t felt fear like this. Suddenly I realised I no longer had control of my body or my mind. If I couldn’t stop these thoughts coming into my head and becoming reality to me, how would I live?

  The fingers of my clamped hand sprung open and the table shuddered free. I forced my body to move, and stumbled to the back door. Broken glass crunched under my feet. Oli moved Josie out of the way and the other children scattered to let me through. I told my legs to run, but they would only stagger. I pulled myself up the stairs. The third step squeaked as I stepped on it, under my breath I told it to fuck off. I slammed the bedroom door shut behind me and collapsed on the floor, next to the bed.

  Our bedroom window was slightly open and I heard the commotion I had left behind outside. Josie was sniffling and Jessica asked Abi what was wrong with her sister. Then she asked her what was wrong with me. Neil’s voice drifted up. I had forgotten how soothing his voice could be.

  ‘Christine’s not been feeling very well recently,’ he said. ‘Since… you know.’

  Not feeling soothed, I half crawled, half walked to the en-suite and locked the door behind me.

  I felt so sorry for Josie. But why on earth had she dressed up like that? What had made her do it? Why did she choose that jacket, why that make-up?

  I heard Neil again.

  ‘It wasn’t you Josie,’ Neil said. ‘You haven’t done anything wrong.’

  I imagined Abi stroking Josie’s head. Maybe Oli was making sure Jessi was OK. Neil trying to calm everyone down, reassure our friends, trying not to be embarrassed by his drunken wife.

  ‘What a fuck up!’ I whispered. ‘What a total fuck up!’

  I slumped to the floor and sat my elbows on my knees.

  I knew I was a little drunk. Maybe even a lot. But I reckoned I was always able to function when I was pissed. I always knew what was happening and what I was doing. I reckoned.

  My face felt tingly.

  I buried my head in my hands and rubbed my cheeks and forehead. Ran my hands over the back of my neck. Tears dropped onto the floor between my legs.

  That was the first time I wished I was dead. In my head I prayed to a god I didn’t believe in. Prayed that He would take me. That I would die and it would all end.

  I was to pray it again in the weeks and months that followed. Many times.

  Eventually I heard the final goodbyes and apologies. The front door slammed. Muffled voices below told me that Neil was speaking to Michael and Rose. I heard Neil’s footsteps on the stairs.

  A knock at the bedroom door.

  ‘Chris,’ he said. ‘Chris, are you OK?’

  I started shaking. The bedroom door creaked open. I wished that every damn thing in the house didn’t make such a bloody noise. Neil tapped on the door of the en-suite.

  ‘Chris, are you OK? They’ve gone now. The kids are getting ready for bed. Are you alright?

  Neil’s voice sounded soothing to me now. A tear dripped to the end of my nose and tickled it. I rubbed it away with the back of my hand.

  ‘I’ll be out in a minute,’ I said. I tried to shake the feelings away. Stretched my neck and looked up toward the ceiling. I pulled a wodge of toilet paper from the roll and dabbed at my eyes. I didn’t want to look in the mirror. My head was swimmy, and for once I regretted having had so much to drink.

  ‘Chris, are you coming out? Are you OK?’

  I wasn’t sure if he was anxious or annoyed. Probably both.

  ‘Just a minute.’ I did my best to sound in control, but when I did look in the mirror I almost lost it again. I was a wreck. My cheeks were blotchy. Red and white with an unhealthy dose of black mascara thrown in. I wasn’t big on lipstick, but what little I had was now crumbled, dry and sparse. My eyes were completely washed-out.

  I needed Neil now. I flicked the lock on the door.

  ‘Come in,’ I said.

  As Neil came in, I put my face in my hands. He put his hands on my shoulders, then put his arms around me. He didn’t speak, just held me. I felt the warmth of his ear against mine. He held me for nearly a minute before speaking.

  ‘Chris, what happened? What was it downstairs?’

  He stepped back and tried to ease me out of the en-suite. I let him. We sat on the bed and I looked into his face. He smiled at me.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Were Abi and Oli OK? I’m so sorry.’

  ‘They were fine. Oli said it was probably my cooking that made you feel ill. They were just worried about you, that’s all. Abi wanted to call the doctor, but I said you were probably just a bit off colour. Do you want me to call a doctor?’

  I shook my head.

  ‘Neil, it was Josie. You know how she was all dressed up. She looked older, but also she looked — different. Something happened to me the moment I saw Josie.’

  I shivered and looked behind me to see if the bedroom window was still open. It wasn’t. Neil was always closing the damned windows.

  ‘What happened?’ Neil said.

  ‘She triggered something in me. The dream. You know the horrible dream I keep having? Well Josie triggered it. But this time it was different.’

  Neil shook his head and frowned.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ he said.

  ‘The dream I’ve been having, where I attack someone — the sight of Josie brought some of those things from the dream to me. It was as though I was transported somewhere. It was
as though I was dreaming downstairs. I could hear similar noises from the dream, feel the blowing wind, smell the same smells. Didn’t you hear the wind? Didn’t you see the fog?’ I wiped the back of my hand over my itchy eyebrows. ‘And then a girl. I saw a girl and I saw her face.’ I swallowed hard and looked away. I didn’t feel like I could look into Neil’s eyes anymore. Not while I was talking about this. He touched my hand and held my fingers. ‘The face in the dream downstairs was like … was like Josie’s.’

  ‘But you were looking at Josie,’ he said.

  I shook my head. ‘Josie was the trigger, I think. Then she was lost in the fog, like everything else. And that’s when I saw this other girl. Saw her face. The face like Josie’s.

  Neither of us said anything for a moment. After about ten seconds Neil let my fingers slip from his.

  ‘What do you mean “was like” Josie’s?’

  ‘Their faces were almost the same.’

  ‘So are you saying that the dream you’ve been having, the one where you attack a girl, she looks like Josie?’

  ‘Not exactly,’

  ‘So she looks a bit like Josie?’

  ‘That’s not really what I’m saying either.’

  ‘Chris, help me out here. What exactly are you saying?’

  ‘Josie isn’t like the girl I’ve been dreaming about. I’ve had the dream three times now, each time a little clearer than before. I still haven’t properly seen the face of the girl in the dream, but I know it is nothing like Josie’s.’

  Neil shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Neil, Josie isn’t like the girl I’ve been dreaming about. The dream I had just now, downstairs in our back garden. That was a different dream. Same place, same sounds, same smells — but not the same girl. This girl, the one who looked a bit like Josie, this girl was another one.’

  The bedroom door burst open. Rose ran in, tears pouring down her cheeks.

  ‘Michael says I’ve got to clean my teeth first,’ she said. ‘But I got washed first. He should clean his teeth before me.’

  Neil took her hand and led her out of our bedroom.

  ‘It doesn’t matter who cleans their teeth first,’ he said. ‘As long as you both clean them.’

  I watched him take hold of our little girl’s hand — and I cried.

  13