Tag: fiction

The Wedding of Lucy Lennox (part five)

Posted on by weeks4send

By the time Lennie caught up with Aunt Van, she was already chatting to Mum, who called Lennie over and introduced her. Van did the whole I-can’t-believe-she’s-got-so-big routine. Lennie was a bit disappointed- she’d expected a world-famous journalist to be more original- but at least now she had an excuse to talk to her.

“How long’s it been?” Mum asked Van, “Since we…”

“Um… Auntie Faye’s sixtieth, I think. That was, what, eight years ago?”

“No,” said Lennie, “You came over when I was in Year One. That was only four years ago.” If it had been eight years since they’d seen Aunt Van, then Lennie wouldn’t have even been able to remember her properly, would she?

Mum clicked her fingers. “She’s right, you know. That big charity event that Nana Pearl organised, remember?”

“Oh right!” said Aunt Van, “With the bouncy castle!”

Lennie grinned.   The bouncy castle was the main thing she remembered, too. They’d managed to get one shaped like Tigger, with his head over the entrance and his legs at all four corners. Lennie and the other six-year-olds had nearly died of joy.

“So many memories,” breathed Nana Celine, who was sitting a few seats away and hadn’t really joined in with the conversation so far.

Mum and Aunt Van gave each other a funny look. Then Mum smiled and said, “So… any advice? On getting through my wedding day?”

“Ha!” said Van, “You’ll probably handle it better than I did, no matter what you do. Constantly thought I was going to screw it up.” This sounded about right to Lennie. There had probably been a bunch of film stars and prime ministers at Aunt Van’s wedding, and you didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of them.

Nana Celine gave them a serene smile. She looked younger than most grandmothers. She was actually fifty-five, so not that young, but she still had long dark hair and a smooth, pretty face. “I think it’s silly to be nervous on your wedding day.”

Lennie’s mum sighed. “Yeah, Mum, that’s not very helpful.”

“But what is there to be nervous about?” She was still smiling. “Spending the rest of your life with the man you love?”

“It’s a big ceremony, Mum. There’s a lot of variables. And anyway…” Mum had obviously been about to say something, but she stopped all of a sudden and went quiet instead.

Nana Celine didn’t seem to notice. She’d had a lot of champagne. “I bet Ewan’s begged you to let him see you in that dress.”

Mum smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, well, patience is a virtue.”

There were people all around them, but Lennie hadn’t paid attention to them up til now. Their table was where the action was. Everyone else was just swirling around them like a sea of boring people. But then Lennie saw Charlie, a little way away from them. And she saw Charlie spot Aunt Van. And she saw a horrible grin split his face.

Nana Celine just carried on talking. “You know, people think that marriage is the end of all your adventures. But love is the greatest adventure of all.”

“Right,” said Mum, trying not to laugh.

“Honestly, most of the time Emil’s the only part of my life that isn’t completely bonkers,” said Aunt Van, “I like that about him.”

Lennie would have loved to press Aunt Van for details about her bonkers life. Under any other circumstances, she’d have done exactly that and had a whale of a time. But Charlie was moving towards them, slowly, quietly, stepping around the people in his way. He met Lennie’s gaze, and put a finger to his lips.

Lennie had to say something. If she didn’t say something, then she was doing exactly what Charlie wanted her to do, like an accomplice. But she couldn’t speak. It was like her throat had frozen up.

Mum couldn’t help. She hadn’t seen him. “How did you two meet?” she asked Aunt Van.

“Ah, you won’t believe this… He’s a counsellor at a Young Offenders’ Institute, right? And I needed to speak to…”

It was too late. Charlie was leaning over Aunt Van’s shoulder, still grinning that grin. “Well, look who it is!” he said, like he was in a play and he was acting that they were friends. He put his arm around her…

And then…

Part of Lennie wasn’t even surprised. You saw things like this happen on the playground all the time. But these were grown-ups here. Fancily-dressed grown-ups at a party. They weren’t supposed to whirl around and knock each other to the floor.

There was blood and spit dribbling out of Charlie’s mouth. Aunt Van just stared at her clenched fist, as if she had no idea why it had just done that.

Charlie grabbed at a chair and tried to pull himself up. “BITCH!” he roared, spraying more blood and spit.

Nana Celine just looked around frantically, her mouth in a shocked “o”.”

On the other side of the room, Aunt Love turned round, as if Charlie had sent out a signal to her personally. She started charging towards them like an angry bull, elbowing people out of the way as she went.

Mum got up and put her hands on Aunt Van’s upper arms. “Upstairs. Now.”

(To be continued)

0

Isaac versus the Car Park (part three)

Posted on by weeks4send

One Hour Earlier

Barry seemed to have been circling the same three roundabouts for years, but finally he took a turn and went down a dark street. If it had been daytime, Isaac might have been able to see where they were. Then again, maybe not- he wasn’t even sure how long they’d been in the car. Maybe they were halfway to Scotland now.

The houses all looked identically yellow and shabby under the streetlamps. As the car slowed, Isaac saw a woman walk up to them and unlock the front door. “There she is,” growled Barry, “There she is.” The car swerved into the woman’s front doorway just as she slammed the door.

“Barry, don’t…” said Shona, but he was already out of the car. “Barry, it’s not worth it! Barry!”

Barry was already at the door. He hammered on it with both fists, then moved onto the ground-floor windows and did the same thing there. “Where’s my son, Charlie? Where’s my fucking son?”

In the back of the car, the boys didn’t look at each other. It was probably too dark to see, even if they had. Shona just watched Barry move, and groaned. “That bloody temper of his…”

There was a voice from inside the house- the woman had shouted something. In response, Barry turned around and went back to the car. Initially, Isaac thought he was going to get back in and drive away (onto the next adventure, he thought gloomily), but instead, Barry opened up the boot and took something out. Isaac didn’t get a proper look at what it was until he started smashing the windows.

There was another shout from inside the house. This time, Isaac heard the words, “I’m calling the police!”

Great! thought Isaac, You do that! With any luck he’ll be too mental to run away before they arrive, and this whole thing would be over. But deep down, Isaac knew it wouldn’t be as simple as that. Even if the police did arrive in time to arrest Barry, they’d probably make a point of taking in Isaac, Chris and Tommy, too. As accessories to window-smashing, or whatever.

Anyway, it didn’t come to that, because as soon as she heard what the woman in the house had said, Shona got out of the car. “Barry…” He didn’t turn around, so she went up to him and put her hand on the back of his arm. “Barry, please…”

“She’s got my son, Shona!” snapped Barry… but he sounded a bit quieter than he had before, which probably meant that he could be persuaded.

“She’s going to call the police, Barry. Just come back. Please.”

Isaac looked at them, in the orange light of the streetlamps. He couldn’t hear much more than grunts- pleading grunts from Shona, mildly defiant ones from Barry- but he got the idea. Long before the police arrived, Barry was going to get back in the car, and away they’d go.  The night wasn’t over yet.

 

Forty Minutes Earlier

They were at the top of a hill, setting fire to things- bits of grass, bits of rubbish, stuff like that. None of them particularly wanted to set fire to things, but Barry wouldn’t let them stop.

If Isaac had been thinking straight, if he hadn’t been frozen-solid-terrified of taking any risks, he’d probably have been able to think of a hundred different ways out of this. As it was, he could only be grateful that Barry was making them set fire to grass and crisp packets instead of someone’s house. Or an actual person.

And if he did try to make them do that? They’d probably go along with it. Because there was no way out.

(To Be Concluded)

0

Isaac versus the Car Park (part two)

Posted on by weeks4send

Twenty Minutes Earlier

“We just need to wait til he’s got his guard down,” whispered Chris, “There’s three of us and one of him.” Chris glanced over at Barry, who, for now at least, wasn’t looking at them. He was busy paying for the petrol and throwing in some beer and crisps while he was at it. “All we need to do is wait til he’s distracted, and all go in at once.”

Tommy nodded. “We can work out a signal. One of us moving our hands in a particular way. And then…” He broke off. Barry had finished paying and turned round.

Isaac wanted to use the last few seconds to say something. He wanted to talk Chris and Tommy out of it, tell them that the only thing they were going to achieve was making Barry even angrier. But what was the alternative? Sitting quietly in the back of the car until Barry saw fit to let them go?

It was too late now, anyway. Barry was looming over them, beer and crisps neatly tucked under one arm. “We’re done,” he told them, “Move.”

The three younger boys skittered out of the door like frightened mice. But in the dark, halfway between the shop and the car, Isaac felt himself being pulled back. So that was why Barry had kept one arm free.

“Saw you three chatting away in there,” came the whisper in his ear, “Before you start getting clever, remember, I know about you. I can ruin you in this town.”

And Isaac, like an idiot, was this close to opening his stupid mouth and saying, “What, by telling them you caught me scribbling on a bench? Compared to what I’ve seen you doing tonight, that’s nothing.”

But, in that microsecond between thought and speech, Isaac remembered that he was completely at Barry’s mercy. And not just him- Chris and Tommy too. If Isaac even hinted that they had something to hold over Barry’s head, Barry’s first thought wouldn’t be trying to appease them, it would be making sure they stayed quiet for good. So instead, Isaac just mumbled, “I know. Sorry.” And Barry dragged him back to the car. Where no-one knew where they were, and no-one would come to save them.

(To Be Continued)

0

The Warbeck Sisters Arrive

Posted on by weeks4send

Warbeck 3

At first, all they passed were tall, conical trees that made Rube think of the spade symbol you got on cards, spaced out along the side of the road at two-yard intervals. As they went on, though, there was more. Every shade of green you could think of, with occasional flashes of pink and blue. Rocky streams with miniature waterfalls and wooden bridges. Little black ponds covered in reeds and lilypads, like in a cartoon. What looked like a hedge-maze, off in the distance. Fountains with three or four layers, splashing water that looked like an impossible shade of blue. Clusters of tall, leafy willows casting ominous shadows across the grass. And throughout it all, little white garden walls wound through it, like someone had put a marble net over the whole thing.

The first things Rube noticed, when she finally saw the house close-up, were the two marble lions perched on the roof of the veranda, each with a raised front paw and a snarl on its lips. Rube wondered how old they were. The looked like they’d been made out of the same rough, off-white stone as the rest of the house, but there wasn’t any weathering on their faces. You could still see every whisker, even from four metres below them.

“Does Uncle Colwyn drive?” asked Jeanette, looking around for a parking space or a garage, “He must do, right? He’s barely walking-distance from his front gate, let alone the shops.”

“I don’t know,” said Rube. She seemed to remember him taking the train down to visit them at least once.

The house was four storeys, all white stone, black railings and wooden shutters, and Rube found it hard to imagine what it must be like to live there alone. Maybe that was why Colwyn had been so quick to invite them to stay- the company of three annoying nieces was better than no company at all.

They went up to the veranda, and Rube unlocked the door. When she got it open, she was relieved to find that the house smelled nice- warm wood and fresh air. It wouldn’t have been a good sign if she’d smelled mould or dust. Or old food, which you could smell at one of her friends’ houses back home and which meant that Rube couldn’t spend more than five minutes in there without gagging.

They walked inside, and saw that the whole bottom floor seemed to be one room. You came through the door to the living room, and the dining table and kitchen unit were at the back, behind the staircase. At various points around the walls, there were French windows, leading out to the gardens.

“I’m sure there’s some kind of feng shui thing about not putting the stairs right across the room like that,” said Jeanette.

“I don’t think that’s how it’s pronounced,” Rube replied. She walked over to the coffee table opposite the sofa, and found another note from Uncle Colwyn.

Dear girls,

I’m so sorry I couldn’t be here this evening. I’ve prepared a salad for dinner, but if you’re not in the mood for that, there’s plenty of other food in the fridge. I hope to be back tomorrow morning at the latest.

Yours,

Colwyn

Rube walked through to the kitchen, and found the salad bowl in the fridge, covered with clingfilm. “This looks nice,” she told the other two. She’d probably have said it anyway, just to be encouraging, but it did look nice. It was one of those salads with cheese and fruit thrown in, as opposed to Mum’s salads, which were usually just cucumber, lettuce, tomato, and maybe some red onions if you were lucky.

Rube turned round to put it on the table, and saw the horse.

Not an actual, flesh-and-blood horse, obviously, though it had made her jump just as much as if it was. This horse looked as if it was made out of wood and wicker. It was a head mounted to the wall like a hunting trophy from the bad old days, and underneath was a label saying Falada.

When Jeanette came over to see it, she made a little impressed noise in the back of her throat. “Why do you think it’s called Falada?”

“It’s from a fairy tale,” explained Sally, “The one about… um, there’s a kidnapped princess, and they kill her horse so it can’t tell anyone who she is, but then its head carries on talking anyway…” At this, she eyed the horse nervously, as if she expected it to start speaking there and then. It wasn’t just her, either- Rube found herself checking around the base for any microphones or mechanical bits.

After a moment or two, by which time they were all reasonably certain that they didn’t have a talking wooden horse on their hands, Jeanette leaned forward and patted it on the nose. “I wish we had something like this at ours. Do you think he’ll tell us where he got it?”

“I think maybe he made it himself,” said Rube. She didn’t know why she thought that, but she did. Maybe it was something about the unevenness of the wicker. Or maybe it was just comforting to think of Uncle Colwyn as the kind of guy who’d spend weeks on end making something sweet and odd like this. It wouldn’t be so bad to spend five weeks with a man like that.

Jeanette straightened up. “Anyway. Salad?”

“Salad,” agreed Rube, and they went to sit at the dining room table.

(To Be Continued)

0

The Wedding of Lucy Lennox (part 4)

Posted on by weeks4send

A little while later, Lennie and Wesley held a last-minute briefing in their secret agent base behind the big chair in the corner of the hotel bar. “OK,” said Wesley, clutching his notebook, “This is Agent Scorpio and Agent…”

“Dali.”

“Agent Dali, synchronising our watches and heading out.” Neither Lennie nor Wesley a) were actually wearing watches, or b) knew how you synchronised them when you did. It just sounded cool to say. “Have you got all your equipment, Agent Dali?”

“Um…” Lennie patted herself down. “Notebook, check… Grappling hook, check… X-ray glasses, check…”

“Have you got your secret disguise kit?”

“Right here.” Lennie held up an invisible bag.

“OK. When we have all the information we need, we’ll meet up back at the secret base. Lets go.”

They split up, Wesley taking the left side of the room and Lennie taking the right. They dodged behind chairs and crawled under tables, avoiding the adults’ gaze. The riskiest part was when you had to rush through a gap in the crowd, because then you had no cover and the enemy might spot you. After one such ordeal, Lennie crouched down behind the nearest sofa, pretending to tie her shoe but actually trying to listen in on the people sitting there.

“It goes, he thinks he’s ED-ucated, AIRS the family SHARES,” sang Aunt Sammy.

“I always heard it as, the flat he shares.” Lennie was surprised to hear Aunt Angel’s voice sound like that. It hadn’t been half as clear at the dinner table.

“No, honest. I’ll look it up.”

“I believe you. I’m just surprised, that’s all.”

Lennie wrote down, Aunt Sammy and Aunt Angel arguing about the right words to songs, and moved on in a quest for more information. She saw a set of curtains next to the big window, and dodged behind any furniture she could find until she got to it. The perfect hiding place. No-one would look for her here.

She heard a voice. “Your parents would have fucking battered you if you’d gone out dressed like that at her age. Don’t tell me they wouldn’t.”

There was another one of Nana Celine’s sighs. “Charlie…”

“Just because I don’t like to see little girls dressed up like sluts, suddenly I’m the bad guy.”

Lennie flinched. She’d never heard that word before, but she could tell by the way he’d said it that it meant something horrible. Something dark, dirty and slimy that Lennie didn’t want to know about.

“I know,” said Nana Celine, “It’s OK. When you and the girls move back in, things will be different. I promise.”

“They’d better be. Because if Lucy can’t even be bothered to parent her own daughter, I’m going to have to step in, aren’t I?”

“They will be. I think deep down, Lucy knows you were right. She just likes being in control, that’s all.”

“Well, she’s going to have to learn different.”

Lennie didn’t want to hear any more of this. She didn’t want to write anything down, either.. She slipped out from under the curtain without Charlie or Nana Celine noticing, and went outside to get some fresh air.

She sat by the entrance, in the shadows where no-one could see her, and watched people park their cars and go in. They said a few things when they did, but Lennie didn’t bother to write those down, either. The dark, dirty, slimy feeling just wouldn’t go away.

But it was just as well she was there, because if she hadn’t been, she wouldn’t have seen the black VW pull up.

It looked just like a normal car, at first. Then a man Lennie didn’t recognise got out on one side, a man with thick black hair and glasses, wearing a grey suit. That got Lennie’s interest, because it probably meant he was coming to the wedding rehearsal after-party too. She kept an eye on him, and saw a woman get out of the other side. She had layered dark-brown hair, the same colour as Nana Celine’s, and she was wearing sparkly earrings and a purple dress. She looked up at the hotel, frowning, and that’s when Lennie knew for certain.

It was Aunt Van.

She walked round the car and took her husband’s arm. (Lennie remembered that Aunt Van had a husband, but she didn’t remember his name.) They walked in slowly, heads down, talking to each other.

As they came through, Lennie listened in on what they said. “I’ve got to say, I don’t remember you being this nervous before our wedding.”

“Of course not. My fucking mother wasn’t coming to our wedding.”

“There is that.”

“Anyway, I was nervous. The way I kept shooting down your suggestions, I was worried you’d think I was getting cold feet.” Aunt Van laughed. “It’s hard to plan a wedding when you’ve got an insane hatred of romantic things.”

They walked up the steps to the entrance, shrinking against each other as if it was cold (it wasn’t). Lennie leaned in for a closer look.

“Just warning you, the next two days are going to be hell. It’ll be a cloud of dread and misery, and we’ll come out feeling kind of soiled.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“Remember last time? I can’t believe it took you so long to realise she was hitting on you.”

“I thought maybe she just got chatty when she was drunk!”

“Really?” Van put on a breathy voice. “I think it’s best to try everything life has to offer, Emil.”

Van’s husband laughed, and they went in.

Lennie stayed outside for a moment, mainly so they wouldn’t think she was following them around. Aunt Van looked amazing. Even if you didn’t already know she was a famous celebrity, you’d be able to tell just by looking at her. Normal people didn’t look that glamourous, ever.

She’d definitely be writing this up in her notebook. And then she was going to go in and talk to her.

(To Be Continued)

0

The Wedding of Lucy Lennox (part three)

Posted on by weeks4send

The wedding rehearsal had happened, it had been as dull and pointless as Lennie had expected, and now they were back at the hotel, having drinks. Lennie’s drink was cherryade, because she’d earned it. Mum was having champagne with all her bridesmaids. She was supposed to only have her friends Emma and Janis, but then Nana Celine had got back in touch with Aunt Angel and Aunt Love and cried a lot until Mum added them too. Lennie didn’t know why it had even been a big deal- Mum’s other sisters weren’t going to be following her up the aisle, so it wasn’t as if Angel and Love would have felt left out if she hadn’t asked.

Anyway, Nana Celine looked happy now. She’d been at the champagne more than anyone, and now she was giving a speech. “So often in life, I’ve had to be the wise one. The one who made the difficult choices.”

“Mm,” said Mum, not looking up from her glass.

“Sometimes I wonder if I’d ever get anything for myself. But now…” She gazed up at Charlie with a happy grin, even though Charlie was clearly the lowest form of life on Planet Earth. Worms, amoebas, Charlies- that was how it went.

Charlie grunted, like a warthog. “I’m just glad my girls get to be with their mum again.” Behind him, Aunt Love smiled, but Aunt Angel didn’t seem to have heard him. Aunt Angel was a bit weird in general. She had greasy hair and smelled a lot of sweat, and she barely ever talked.

Nana Celine gazed at them. “I’ve missed them,” she said, slurring because of the champagne, “Now I feel whole again.”

On the other side of the table, Great Gran made an angry tsk noise. Lennie was pretty sure she knew why. Edd, who Lennie didn’t call Uncle Edd because he was only thirteen and that would just have been weird, but who was still Nana Celine’s son, lived with Great Gran. Apparently Nana Celine felt whole enough without him.

Charlie looked at Great Gran, and then, not taking his eyes off her, put his arm around Nana Celine’s shoulders and kissed her on the top of the head. Like he’d won and he was gloating.

“What are you up to these days, Angel?” asked Aunt Sammy.

Angel just shrugged.

Charlie laughed. “You won’t get much out of her,” he said triumphantly. He had little bits of hair poking out of his nostrils.

Mum leaned across the table. “Sammy, I meant to ask, did you ever find out why you weren’t supposed to build on that field near the hills?”

“Oh, yeah! What happened was, they thought they’d found some Roman artefacts near the foot of the hill, but then it turned out…”

Charlie cleared his throat, drowning out what Aunt Sammy was saying. “No sign of the local paparazzi, then?” He laughed like he’d just made a brilliant joke.

Mum looked at him like he was a cockroach. “What?”

“Well, someone decided not to show up in time for the wedding rehearsal.”

Lennie wondered if he meant Aunt Van. She wasn’t here yet.

“She wouldn’t be,” said Mum, “She’s not part of the ceremony.”

“She better not show up,” said Aunt Love. She was younger than Aunt Angel, but much bigger and louder. “After all those lies she told.”

Mum’s frown deepened. “Love…”

“Kick her teeth down her throat.” Love leaned back in her chair. “After everything she said. Tell you what, not being funny, but if she does show her face, I’ll kick her teeth down her throat.”

Mum looked right up at her. “Love, she’s coming. You don’t have to like her, you don’t have to speak to her, but she’s coming.”

Aunt Love raised her chin. She had a massive chin and a massive forehead, so her actual face looked like it was squeezed into a tiny space between them. “Wedding’s not til tomorrow, right? Plenty of time to take the invite back.”

“Love, drop it,” said Mum, through gritted teeth, “I mean it.”

Aunt Love sniffed a bit, but didn’t say anything else.

Nana Celine sighed. No-one could sigh like Nana Celine- it sounded like a gale blowing through the trees. “I just don’t understand why she can’t let things go. I couldn’t live like that. She must have a very sad life.”

Before anyone could say anything else, Aunt Sammy jumped up and looked round at Lennie, Wesley and Edd. “Come on, guys. Bet I can kick your arses at air hockey.”

“Oh, you wish!” said Edd, chasing her to the other side of the room.

(To Be Continued)

0

The Wedding of Lucy Lennox (part two)

Posted on by weeks4send

Lennie didn’t care what Ewan said- football was a lot more fun if you played it with Medieval rules.

Ewan looked down at Lennie and Wesley, who were wrestling for the ball, and sighed. “If this was a real football match, you’d have been sent off for about five different reasons by now.”

“Not if we were Medieval peasants,” said Lennie, twisting her head so she could look up at him, “They used to call it ‘balle’, with an e, and it was like a melee. They used to… Oi!” Wesley had managed to grab the ball and wriggle away while she’d been distracted. Lennie reared up, leapt, and pinned him to the ground again.

Ewan shook his head. “Guys. Guys. This is not professional behaviour. Do you think Harry Kane and Megan Rapinoe spend all their time trying to smash the other players into the pitch?”

He looked to Aunt Sammy and Camilla for support, but Sammy clearly wasn’t going to be much help because she was doubled over laughing. Camilla, who’d been sitting on the bench reading her book, looked over and frowned. “Ewan? You and Lucy definitely haven’t put any weedkiller down on the lawn today, have you?”

Ewan tapped his chest. “Scout’s honour. I’d never have let them play out here if we had.”

“Well, alright, then,” said Camilla, going back to her book.

Lennie relaxed her grip on Wesley, and hauled herself to her feet. “Back in a minute,” she announced, dashing into the house. She was going to fetch a packet of crisps, but if she told everyone else that, they’d all want one.

Unfortunately, when she got to the kitchen, Lennie found that Mum and Nana Celine were already in there, talking. Normally, that wouldn’t have been a problem (apart from the risk that Mum would tell her it was too close to dinner to have any snacks), but this time, they were talking about her.

“I don’t want him speaking to Lennie like that,” said Mum. Lennie’s hand froze, inches away from the door. Time to get some spying done.

“It was a joke,” said Nana Celine, “It was obviously a joke.”

“Well, I don’t want him making jokes about my daughter and her clothes. Alright?”

So that was what it was about. Lennie had told Mum about what Charlie had said yesterday, about her shorts, and Mum had shaken her head and told her not to listen to him. She hadn’t sounded angry then, but she did now.

“I just don’t see why you’re making such a fuss about this,” said Nana Celine.

“Mum, I wouldn’t even let Ewan speak to her like that, let alone some guy she barely knows.”

Lennie rolled her eyes. As if Ewan would have a problem with her wearing shorts. What else were you supposed to play football in?

“Charlie is not ‘some guy.’ He’s a member of your family!”

“Before this week, I hadn’t seen him in fifteen years! And Lennie’s never…”

Nana Celine interrupted, her voice rising into an injured wail. “Charlie was more of a father to you than anyone else, so don’t try and tell me he’s not family!”

“He…” Mum let out a heavy sigh, giving up. “There’s another thing, too. What’s Van going to think if he shows up at the wedding?”

“Well, I hope she’ll be happy for me…”

“Mum, she won’t. You know she won’t.”

Lennie hadn’t known for sure that Aunt Van was coming. Her pulse started to race at the news. Not that she knew Aunt Van well- she’d only seen her once or twice, usually at people’s weddings- but that didn’t matter. Aunt Van was famous.

About a year ago, Lennie and her Mum had been in Sainsburys, and Mum had suddenly stopped in the book aisle and picked up a book the size of a brick, with a black cover with a silver barbed-wire pattern. “Look at this!” she’d said, “One of your auntie’s books!” It had been called Branded by Van Kowalczyk, and Mum had brought it home and given it a position of honour in the bookshelf. Lennie had tried to read it a couple of times, but she’d always given up after a few pages. It was all creepy real-life stories about horrible things that had happened to people in prison. But Lennie was proud of her anyway.

She didn’t know why Aunt Van wouldn’t want to see Uncle Charlie at the wedding, but, if anything, it made her like her more. Giving up on the crisps (but glad that she’d got some useful information instead), Lennie headed back outside to continue the football game.

(To Be Continued)

0

Isaac vs the Car Park (part one)

Posted on by weeks4send

November 2002

Isaac didn’t remember much of the walk home. Just that it was dark, and long, and seemed to involve a lot of wrong turns. But he got there in the end.

His parents were out. He had his own key. He walked into the house and went straight up to the bathroom to clean himself up. He didn’t bother to turn any of the hallways lights on. Just walked up the dark stairs as if he was on autopilot.

There wasn’t much damage. Just a few cuts and scrapes. Probably some nasty bruises, come tomorrow morning. Nothing huge. You’d think going through a windscreen would leave bigger marks than that, but apparently not.

Isaac patched up all the places that were bleeding, then went into his room. He didn’t bother to get changed. He didn’t bother to turn the lights on. He didn’t even bother to pull back the duvet. He just laid down on the bed, fully-clothed, and wondered what the fuck he was going to do.

 

One Hour Earlier

The car was weaving around on the road. Isaac didn’t know if that was because of the wind, which had got strong enough to blow entire metal rubbish bins across the street, or because of Barry, who was singing along to the radio and thumping the dashboard with his right hand as he tried to steer with his left.

“Barry, slow down,” said Shona, from the back seat. She’d swapped places with Isaac back at the service station, because Barry had said he wanted to keep an eye on him. Now Shona was squeezed in between Tommy and Chris, and Isaac was trapped. The only escape he could think of was if he opened the passenger door and rolled out onto the road, and at this speed he’d probably break every bone in his body.

He knew he might have to risk it anyway. Isaac kept his hand on his seatbelt button, braced for the moment when it got more dangerous inside the car than outside.

“Barry, slow down.”

“What? Come on, woman! The party’s just getting started!” He thumped the dashboard again. “Oh! My! Starry-eyed surprise! Sunlight to sunrise!”

The car swerved from one side of the road to the other. Isaac braced himself to undo his seatbelt. He’d decided- the moment he saw another car on the road, he was going to do it. He was going to take his chances with the tarmac.

But in the end, that’s not how it happened.

Just as Barry steadied the steering wheel, taking a breath so he could belt out another chorus, Tommy reared up behind him, put his hands around Barry’s neck, and squeezed.

(To Be Continued)

0

The Warbeck Sisters Drive to their Uncle’s House

Posted on by weeks4send

Warbeck 2

Dear Ruby,

I’m so sorry to leave you and your sisters waiting- you must think that I’m the rudest man alive. Something came up at work, and there was no getting around it. Please find the front door key sellotaped to the back of the envelope. I’ve paid for your taxi to the house (complete with tip, so you don’t have to worry about that), and I hope to see you later this evening.

I know the circumstances aren’t the best, but, still, I’m very excited to have the three of you up at the house for the summer. There are a lot of people I’d like you to meet.

Yours sincerely,

Colwyn Ballantine

 

In the back of the taxi, Rube felt Jeanette nudge her arm. “I’m pretty sure that at this point, the Always logo is permanently stamped on my arse,” she whispered.

Rube made a face, and shushed her. She had a point, though- between the train and the café, they’d been sitting down most of the day even before the taxi had got stuck in traffic. It wasn’t comfortable for anyone, and Jeanette probably had it worst.

“Apologies for the delay, ladies,” said the taxi driver (who, thankfully, didn’t seem to have heard what Jeanette had said), “I think there must have been an accident up ahead.”

“That’s OK,” said Rube. Jeanette and Sally’s faces said different, but she ignored them.

“We shouldn’t be much longer. We just need to take the next left, and then it’s a straight line to Dovecote Gardens.”

Dovecote Gardens was the official name of Uncle Colwyn’s house, but apparently the gardens themselves were the really interesting part. There were statues, topiaries, plants from all over the world, all spread out over the hill and the surrounding fields. That was what Uncle Colwyn spent his life maintaining, and that was why Rube was a bit more sympathetic about his being held up than Jeanette was. ‘Working from home’ probably meant something a lot different when ‘home’ stretched out for half a mile.

Technically, Colwyn was Mum’s cousin rather than her brother, but she’d spent most of her childhood living with her aunt and uncle, so it more-or-less amounted to the same thing. They’d all moved to Dovecote Gardens when Mum was a teenager. Colwyn’s mother had inherited it from her father. Or, wait, maybe it was the other way round? Rube didn’t remember. Somebody had inherited it from somebody, that was the point. It had been in their family for over a hundred years.

Sally was leaning against the car window, her ear pressed against the glass as if she was trying to hear the sea. “I’ve worked it out,” she said gloomily, “Five weeks is thirty-five days. We’re going to have to wake up in Dovecote Gardens thirty-five times before we can go home.”

“Thirty-four,” said Jeanette, “Today’s Saturday. We’re going back on the Friday.”

“OK,” said Sally, “What’s twenty-four times thirty-four?”

“Er… Well, twenty times thirty is six hundred…”

Rube wanted to tell Sally to stop thinking about their holiday as if it was a prison sentence, but frankly, she didn’t think it was either. It felt more like they were being sent into hiding. She didn’t know exactly what Colwyn meant by, “I know the circumstances aren’t the best,” but she could make an educated guess that it had something to do with Dad.

Not long after the taxi driver turned left, they saw the hill in the distance. “That’s the house, right there,” said the driver, nodding towards the little blur of black and cream at the top, “You’ll have a good view of the sea.”

They drove up to a ten-foot hedge with an arch carved into it to allow the road to go through. Once they’d passed it, Rube glanced behind, half-convinced that the arch would have closed up behind them. It was a lot neater than the thorn bushes in ‘Sleeping Beauty,’ but Rube didn’t know if that meant they could trust it. A lot of things were neat.

At first, all they passed were tall, conical trees that made Rube think of the spade symbol you got on cards, spaced out along the side of the road at two-yard intervals. As they went on, though, there was more.

(To Be Continued)

0

The Wedding of Lucy Lennox (part one)

Posted on by weeks4send

(This is a semi-sequel to a few of the stories in From the Rooftops and The Things in the Cellar, as well as The Six Daughters of Celine Cooper.  It should make sense on its own, though.)

Her name was Eleanor Colleen Lennox, but her friends usually called her Lennie. Two days before her mother’s wedding, she was sitting on a wall outside the Rose Hotel and thinking about an artist she’d heard of who’d had little deer horns grafted onto her forehead. When Lennie got older and became a famous artist, she was going to go one better. She was going to have reindeer antlers, with blue hair (maybe in spikes, maybe not) and green stripy snake tattoos coiled all around her arms. (“But you didn’t even want to get your ears pierced,” Mum would say, “How are you going to get a tattoo over your whole arm?” Lennie would figure out a way. It was always worth it for art.)

Lennie was waiting for Aunt Sammy to show up. Nana Celine had booked practically the entire hotel for their family this weekend. Mum said they only needed it for the reception on Saturday, but Ewan (who was going to marry her in a few days) said that they shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. If Nana Celine wanted to practically buy an entire hotel so that both their families could descend upon it and make a nuisance of themselves, then why stop her? Lennie agreed with him. She was just sorry there wasn’t a pool.

Ewan was a PE teacher at William Gladstone High School, and Mum worked in the kitchen there, so that was how they met. They’d told Lennie that it was a really good school, but she didn’t have to go to secondary school there, not if she didn’t want her mum and by-then-stepdad breathing down her neck all the time. Lennie hadn’t quite decided yet. They’d start looking at all the other secondary schools in September, and then she’d see.

Lennie was looking out for a grey Ford Fiesta, because that was the kind of car Aunt Sammy had. She’d be bringing her girlfriend, Camilla, who was the most beautiful woman Lennie had ever met and was always wearing about five hundred different-coloured bits of jewellery that you could never spot all in one go, and Camilla’s son Wesley, who was Lennie’s usual partner in crime at big family events. Last Christmas, they’d played Secret Agents and managed to hide from the rest of the family for a whole hour. Maybe they could do that again.

Lennie tapped her fingers on the stone beneath her, thinking about codenames and invisible ink and deadly laser pens, until she heard a noise just to her left. She looked up and saw Uncle Charlie standing over her with a cigarette in his mouth. She hadn’t even seen where he’d come from- it was as if he’d magically appeared in the courtyard. He’d probably make a good secret agent.

“Alright?” said Uncle Charlie. Actually, it was more like “Mm-murr?”, like a grunting groan more than an actual word, but Lennie knew what he meant.

“Yeah,” said Lennie, sitting up properly. She didn’t know Uncle Charlie that well yet. He’d been married to Nana Celine back in the olden days, when Mum had been a little girl. He wasn’t Mum’s dad, but he was Aunt Angel and Aunt Love’s, which was why they were all back in town for the wedding. “Just waiting for Aunt Sammy.”

Uncle Charlie didn’t say anything, just carried on staring at her and smoking his cigarette. Lennie knew that those grey bits under his eyes and in his five-o’-clock shadow probably weren’t cigarette ash, but it was hard to believe it when he smoked so many of them. “Going to be some changes around here,” he said. It sounded like he’d kept his teeth clenched when he talked.

“Really?” asked Lennie.

Uncle Charlie nodded. “When I move back in with your grandma. Going to be some changes. Won’t be having you running around in those skimpy shorts, for a start.”

Lennie looked down at those shorts, feeling suddenly very protective of them. They were patterned in blue and green and turquoise, like army camouflage but brighter. “I only wear shorts when it’s hot.”

Uncle Charlie carried on staring at her, slowly smoking his cigarette. “Going to be some changes,” he repeated, then went back inside.

Lennie smoothed down her shorts, wondering what Uncle Charlie’s problem was. She didn’t even know what “skimpy” meant. It sounded like it had to do with fish.

She drew her knees up, and went back to watching the road. After a few minutes, she spotted a grey Ford Fiesta.

(To be continued)

0