A pre-New Captain Scarlet
Halloween story
‘’Lainey? Can you get up now, please?’
Elaine rolled over, cocooning herself in the duvet. Miles always woke her
up too early. It was very annoying. Her bed was warm, and soft, and she was in
no hurry to leave it.
‘I’m staying
here.’ She mumbled it. Miles strained to
hear her.
‘What?’
‘I’m staying
here, Miles!’
‘No, you’re not. Come
on, ‘Lainey.’
Elaine scowled, but slowly stuck her head out from under the duvet. Her
fluffy toy cat, Whiskas, was sprawled on the pillow, just by her head. Miles
was standing by her chest of drawers, making her plastic horses trot over the
top of it. Despite only being five years old, Elaine had collected a large
number of horse items. Stuffed toys, posters, books. She could barely read
them, but there were still plenty.
Elaine desperately wanted to learn to read, and Miles was trying to
teach her, because he thought the teachers at the school she’d
started just over a month ago weren’t
very good at it. So far, she could understand some words, but not many, and she
claimed the harder ones fell out of her head.
Miles had got her most of the horsy menagerie. Often, he’d
come back from town, and would smile, slip a toy horse, still in it’s
plastic packaging, out of his bag, followed by sweets and fizzy drinks.
Sometimes, Elaine thought he may have taken them without asking, which she
didn’t think was a very nice thing for him to do, but maybe he did buy them,
she didn’t know for certain.
Miles turned, and grinned at her. ‘Hey,
sleepyhead. Just feeding the horses.’
Elaine’s scowl vanished, and she smiled
happily. She wriggled her way out of the covers, dragging Whiskas with her by
the tail. When her feet touched the floor, she instantly pulled them back up
again.
‘Eww…’
A bowl of melted ice cream was on the floor by her bed, and she’d
put her feet into it by accident.
‘Miles, why is this here?’
Miles turned. ‘Oh, the ice
cream. You brought your dessert up to bed last night, remember? Because Siobhan
was being nasty? I don’t know why
you didn’t finish it.’
‘Oh yeah, I remember now. And I don’t
like vanilla flavour, it‘s too
boring.’ Elaine wiped her feet dry on the
carpet, then stumbled over to Miles, and hugged him around the waist.
‘Happy today, are we?’
‘I think so.’
‘Guess what?’
Elaine shook her head. ‘What?’
‘Hang on. Whiskas knows. I bet he does.’
He took the cat off her, and made it nod its head. ‘Yes,
I know,’ Miles spoke
in a squeaky voice, then made a purring noise at the end. Elaine giggled.
Miles dropped the act, and exclaimed, ‘’Lainey,
it’s Halloween! A great holiday! Witches and vampires and
monsters!‘ He gave a jokey roar, his arms raised.
Elaine shrieked, pretending to be frightened. Miles was always doing things
like this, and she loved how he could act as so many different people.
‘And…your
favourite big brother got you a special present!’
‘Really?!’
Miles nodded, and laughed as Elaine capered around the room, her long
brown hair flying behind her.
‘Hey, don’t you want
it?’
‘I do, I do!’ Elaine came
to a halt, and climbed onto the bed, before sitting with her knees raised, and
her pink and white checked pyjama top pulled down over them.
‘Naughty, you’ll wreck that top.’
‘Miles!’ Elaine
didn’t care. She just wanted her present. She pouted, upset. Miles sighed. She
got upset way too easily, and desperately needed to toughen up. Still, there
were going to be plenty of years for her to do that.
‘Okay, okay. Here you go.’
Miles tucked Whiskas under his left arm, and produced a small, plastic bag from
his right trouser pocket. He passed it to Elaine. She squealed happily. It
contained a toy horse, coloured black with a purple mane and tail. There was an
orange pumpkin on its hip.
‘What does that say?’
Elaine pointed to a yellow star shaped sticker on the bag. Miles was a good
reader, and, even though he was only eight, he read several books which Elaine
considered very difficult.
He sat down by her, and leaned over to see. ‘It
says…’limited edition’.
That means there’s not many of them around. You got
lucky, ‘Lainey!’
Elaine hugged him again.
‘What are you gonna call her?’
‘Erm…what’s
a good name?’
‘How about something Halloween-ish?’ Miles
raised Whiskas to his ear, made a face like he was listening, then nodded.
‘Whiskas say…Spooky.’
‘Oh, yes!’
Elaine pulled the horse out of the bag, and ran her fingers through its
long mane. Miles placed Whiskas on the bed between them.
He loved it when she was happy. His sister was a delicate little thing,
very gentle and loving, but also very shy. If he took her out, to town or the
park, she would hold his hand all the time, and hide behind him if someone he
knew talked to him.
There was only one of his friends whom she would talk to. Andy Marshall.
She’d always seemed to like him, ever
since Miles had met him at school two years ago, and brought him home to play
football the same night. With them being six and eight at the time, it had
hardly been a premiership match, but it had cemented a friendship between them.
Andy was ten years old now, and Elaine knew he did some bad things, like
take money without asking, and go out when his parents said he shouldn’t.
Nonetheless, he acted almost as another brother to her, getting her sweets and
holding her hand when she crossed the road.
‘I thought you and me could do some Halloween pictures
for Mammy.’ Miles never usually called her
that, not any more, it was purely for Elaine’s
benefit. ‘She’d
like that a lot. And you’re a very
good little artist.’
Elaine nodded, then got off the bed, and stood on her tiptoes to place
Spooky with her other horses. She stayed there, clinging onto the edge of the
cabinet, admiring the collection.
‘I’ve got a lot now, haven’t
I, Miles?’
‘Yes, you have. Hey, how about a special horsy
Halloween pic for Mammy? You could do one just like Spooky.’
‘Yes, later. I’m hungry
now.’ Elaine turned round. She rubbed her
stomach to emphasize it. Miles laughed.
‘Okay, come on. I think we’ve got some cornflakes left
for breakfast. If Shev hasn’t pigged them all.’
They almost always referred to their sister, Siobhan, as Shev, simply because
it annoyed her. Almost everything did.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Miles yelled, ‘Race
you!’ and took
off.
‘Not fair, stop it!’
Elaine made her way down gradually. She was afraid of falling, so she clung
onto the banister. Miles was laughing at the bottom.
‘Slowcoach.’
‘I’m not slow.’
Elaine gave him a push in the stomach and ran through to the kitchen to prove
it.
The kitchen was a small, rather cosy room with pictures drawn by the
children held onto the fridge with colourful magnets, a vases of flowers on the
table, and pale pink curtains with a pattern of golden stars. Miles had told
Elaine that they were actually bedroom curtains, but their mother, Bridget, had
liked them a lot, so that’s why they
were in the kitchen. She seemed to spend most of her time there.
Bridget was standing at the sink, staring out of the window. Miles gave
her a very gentle tap on the arm, and she jumped.
‘Mam, I got Elaine up.’
‘Thank you, darling.’
She stooped to kiss his forehead. He pulled a disgusted face and wiped at the
wet mark her lips had left. She was always kissing him, and he didn’t like it. Kisses
were for girls.
Elaine had pulled herself onto a chair at the table. Eleven-year-old
Siobhan sat opposite, frowning into her cereal bowl. She’d
tied her hair in twin plaits, and the end of one dangled in the milk. When she
caught Elaine looking at her, she instantly shouted, ‘Stop
it, freak!’
‘Siobhan! Don’t take that
tone with your sister!’ Bridget
scolded. She hated telling them off, but Siobhan had turned so nasty towards
her younger two recently she had no other option.
Miles fetched Elaine a bowl and spoon, then retrieved the orange juice
carton from the fridge. It was suspiciously light. Miles shook it, then looked
towards Siobhan. She had a glass so full of juice it was right at the top and
looked ready to spill.
‘Shev, you stole it all!’
‘I did not!’ Siobhan’s
bad temper flared up straight away, and she grabbed the cereal packet to throw
at her brother. Bridget seized it as she aimed.
‘Siobhan, don’t…don’t
do that!’ Truth was, Bridget didn’t even know
how to give a proper scolding. Words always failed her.
If anyone else had said that to her, Siobhan would have hit them,
screamed at them, and done whatever bad deed it was anyway. But she stopped and
acted sweet for her mother, the only person whom she seemed to care for.
‘Sorry, Mam. I didn’t mean it anyway.’
‘Okay. Now, could you please give Elaine some of that?’
Siobhan grumbled a bit, but poured some juice into another glass,
spilling some onto the table top in the process. If Bridget hadn’t been there,
she probably would have spat in it, but now she just gave it to her sister,
glaring.
Elaine took the cereal packet from her mother and clumsily tipped some
cornflakes into her bowl, followed by milk. It smelt a little strange, a little
off, but she decided she didn’t mind.
In the time it took her to eat them, Miles and Siobhan had two more
arguments; one about a missing action figure, the other about whose turn it was
to wash up.
Bridget collapsed into a chair, rubbing her temples. ‘You
kids are making me crazy.’
Siobhan stopped yelling at Miles, and stood behind her mother, hugging
her gently around the neck.
‘Sorry, Mam.’
Bridget patted her arm. ‘Do me a
favour, will you? Go bring the washing in. And - ow!’
She had made to get up, but her hip had collided with the table. It lurched
sideways, the vase of flowers almost toppling over. She shrieked in obvious
pain, then clutched her hip.
‘Mammy?’ Elaine
stared at her. Miles dropped the plate he’d
been drying and it smashed on the floor.
‘I’m okay, I’m
okay!’ Bridget smiled, but still looked
pained. She sighed when she saw the mess Miles had made, though. ‘I’ll
clean this up, I don’t want you to cut yourself, but be
more careful next time, honey, right?’
Miles nodded. Elaine noticed him and Siobhan giving each other worried
looks. She slipped off the chair and hurried out of the door, and back to her
room. No one saw. That was the good thing about being a quiet person. People
tended not to notice you.
Later, when Elaine was in her favourite hiding spot, in a small gap between
the side of the garden shed and the fence, Miles came looking for her.
‘’Lainey! Lainey! Where are you?’
She heard him wandering about in the over-long grass, searching. It had been a long
time since anyone had mown the lawn. Bugs hid in it, snails, worms and spiders,
which Elaine was scared of because Siobhan made a point of throwing them at her
whenever she found one. Elaine remembered Miles had once found a hedgehog, and
it had hurt him with its spikes when he’d
tried to stroke it.
Miles looked inside the shed. Nothing there but rusted garden tools. He
peered around the side.
‘There you are! Why are you here? It’s
dark and dirty and smelly here.’
‘I like it. It’s quiet. And
I’ve got toys.’ She gestured to two muddy plastic
horses and a doll.
‘Well, I still don’t
like you being there. Come on out, please, ’Lainey.
I don’t want you to get more mucky.’
Elaine gazed at him, worried, then crawled out. She’d
been wearing shorts and kneeling in the dirt, so her shins were covered in it.
‘Oh…you’re
already messy. Why were you there anyway?’
‘Hiding.’
‘Why? What from?’
‘Not from anything. Just… hiding.’
Miles laughed. ‘Okay. Want
to play?’
Elaine didn’t really want to. Actually, she’d
been down there so she could think. Why had Bridget been hurt earlier? Maybe
she just hit her hip very hard on the table, it seemed like it. But Elaine
remembered last night, when He’d come back
from work. He was often away, though Elaine wasn’t sure what He did. He
was staying for a week this time.
Last night, there’d been some
weird crashes. Elaine had thought Bridget had screamed. Miles had come into her
room and hugged her, like he was scared.
Siobhan had put on pounding trance music, which Elaine could hear clearly
through the wall. It drowned out the crashes.
Had something happened to Bridget yesterday? Elaine wanted to stay and
think about it more, but Miles was helping her up. He grabbed a football and
started to kick it across the garden towards her. It caught in the grass, and
stopped. Miles laughed. ‘Well, maybe
not football! Wanna play catch? I think we’ve got a tennis ball...er...
somewhere…’ He gazed around the garden, then
shrugged at her, smiling. Elaine shook her head.
‘No, no. I want to…I
want to go inside now.’ A sudden
thought had struck her. Maybe she could see if Bridget was hurt.
‘Do you want me to -’
‘No! I mean…no, you stay
here, Miles.’ She forced a smile, and added, ‘Be
a good little boy.’
Miles laughed out loud. ‘I love when you
talk like an older sister! You’d make a
better one than Shev, I’m sure.’
Elaine kept smiling until she’d got into
the house. In the kitchen, she grabbed a paper towel, and rubbed vainly at her
legs. She couldn’t get the majority of the dirt off, so she gave up.
Siobhan was sprawled on the sofa in the living room, watching some dull
daytime TV show. She turned round and screamed at Elaine when she poked her
head round the door.
Elaine withdrew her head, sat down with her back against the hall wall
and started to speak softly, under her breath.
‘…Imagine you’re above the
clouds, flying higher and higher… imagine you’re
above the clouds, flying higher and higher…’
She kept repeating it, over and over. She’d
first heard it on TV, and had memorised what the overweight presenter had said.
To a certain extent, she thought she understood it. It was about making
yourself feel better. The only thing she knew for certain was that it always
soothed her, helped her relax. She could imagine flying alongside the birds,
her arms out at her sides like wings, then settling down in a large birds nest
to go to sleep.
In the lounge, Siobhan was screaming at the TV, insulting the woman who
hosted the show. Elaine let her voice rise from a whisper to a murmur.
All throughout the day, Elaine kept thinking of the expression on
Bridget’s face when she’s hit her
hip. When she was watching TV, the pained expression was on every actor. When
Miles fell over in the garden, she expected him to look like Bridget, in
great pain, even when he bobbed up again, laughing, unhurt.
Initially, Elaine had wanted to just outright ask Bridget what was going
on, but she found she hadn’t the guts. Plus, she didn’t understand entirely.
Maybe her mother really had just hit her hip hard.
Maybe she should ask Miles? He’d know, he
knew everything. But she might make him worry, and he was always so happy, she
didn’t want to make him sad.
Later, when she was in her room, crayoning a picture for Bridget - Miles
was downstairs, watching cartoons, and he’d
said he’d do his later - she plucked up the
courage to do something, though she still wasn’t quite sure what.
Leaving the picture, Elaine tip-toed along the landing from her room to her mother‘s,
and occasionally, His, when He was around. Could she just go in and ask
questions? Did she dare now?
No.
She’d spy. She’d
heard Miles and Andy talking about it, and they’d
said that you had to act like you were playing a really good game of Hide and
Seek, and not let anyone see you, or hear you.
Elaine felt nervous; it was awful, spying on her own mother, but she
needed to find out what was wrong. Slowly, careful not to make a single small
sound, she crept to the door of her mother’s room, and looked through the open
gap. She couldn’t see her at first. She could just see the curtains, drawn even
though the sun was shining outside. Then Bridget moved into her line of sight,
and Elaine just about managed to stifle a gasp. She knew something was very, very
wrong.
Bridget was in her underwear; she had been in the process of changing
clothes, and was walking over to the wardrobe on the other side of the room.
She’d tied her hair up, exposing her
scarily thin neck. The strands that she hadn’t managed to catch hung down to
her shoulders, the sandy blonde very delicate and pale, against…
Against the sick colour of her skin. Purple and red competed for
dominance over her back, her stomach, her chest. Bruises, like gruesome
flowers, bloomed on her body, all over. It was hard to find patches that didn’t
have them. Her feet, hands, neck and head seemed the only parts free. They’d
be the only parts anyone could see. The rest would be hidden when she got
dressed.
When she turned towards the wardrobe, Elaine saw new, bright red marks,
very fresh. The ones from this morning, the ones the table had done. They were
laid over older purple bruises. As she opened the wardrobe, one of the doors
scraped Bridget’s hip. She winced violently, as a
few beads of blood blossomed over the graze. She ran her finger along them,
collecting them, trying not to cry.
Elaine was still watching her, feeling sick, when someone pinched the
back of her neck, hard. Before she squealed - it had hurt a lot - a hand
clamped around her mouth.
‘Shut up, you little cow!’
Siobhan whispered angrily. She didn’t want to alert Bridget, so she dragged
Elaine to her room, then threw her facedown on the floor.
‘What were you doing? You’re
gross, you are! Spying on Mam!’
Elaine sat up. Her forehead hurt where it had hit the floor, and she
rubbed it. ‘Mammy was sad and I went to look for
her.’
‘You should have left it to me! You’re
so stupid! And it’s Mam, not Mammy!’
Siobhan sneered, and brought her head close to Elaine’s.
‘Baby.’
‘I’m not a baby…’
Elaine mumbled, slowly standing up. Siobhan gave her a shove, and she fell over
onto her backside.
‘Yes you are. Baby, baby, baby! Stupid baby!’
Siobhan had closed her eyes, singing the words.
‘I am not! I am not a baby! You don’t
know nothing!’ Suddenly, Elaine kicked out with
her right foot. Her leg caught Siobhan’s, and
Siobhan fell over, swearing. Elaine knew she only had a few seconds, so she got
up quickly, leapt over her sister and out of the door.
Bridget leant out of her room, careful to hide the swelling and bruises
behind the door. ‘Girls, are you all right?’
But Elaine didn’t answer. She tripped down the stairs, to the living room. The
TV was buzzing loudly.
‘Miles! Miles!’ Elaine
flung herself at him, then wormed her way behind him, pushing him almost off
the sofa.
‘Where is she? Where is the little bitch!?’
Siobhan burst into the room, her face red. Elaine started crying. Siobhan
started shouting.
Miles hated when things got chaotic. He preferred slow and relaxed.
He stood up.
‘Shev, calm down. Elaine -’
‘She kicked me! And she was spying on Mam!’
Siobhan was furious. Miles stepped toward her, hands up as if in surrender.
‘She wouldn’t kick without provocation. You know that.’
Elaine kept crying. She normally wouldn’t have hurt Siobhan, she didn’t
like hurting people, but she’d really got
to her for some reason this time.
Miles managed to placate Siobhan, by telling her she could have any CD
in his collection she wanted. She went back upstairs, making sure that she made
as much noise as possible; stomping up the stairs and banging Miles’
bedroom door as she went in to choose.
Miles turned down the volume on the TV, then got a tissue, and dried
Elaine’s tears.
‘I’m sure it
wasn’t all your fault, like she said.’ Miles
hugged her. Elaine couldn’t keep it inside anymore. She had to ask. She had to know.
Elaine pushed away from him.
‘What’s going on?
Why is Mammy hurt? I was looking at her because of her being hurt today, but she
was all over covered in these red marks! Does she walk a lot into things?’
Miles stiffened, then sighed. He hated having to tell her this. It had
been Siobhan that had told him, when he was five, and he knew now it was his
little sister’s turn. He hoped she understood
better than he had. He hadn’t truly, fully understood until he was about
seven.
He looked at her. He could see in her eyes that she was frightened.
‘’Lainey, don’t move away
from me. Come here.’ He held out his arms and she slid
into them again, resting her head against his front.
How could he tell it? How had it been told to him? He thought and
thought. When he’d been told, Siobhan, even though he
knew she disliked him, had told it gently, in a soft, level voice. The thing
that made it even more difficult was that he was sure Elaine wasn’t that
bright. She might get extremely puzzled.
‘Sometimes…’ Miles
swallowed. ‘Sometimes, when a very, very, very
bad person gets angry, or they have some weird drinks or something, they’ll
hurt people to get rid of the anger. Like… like
letting fizz out of a bottle. And this person may think that’s
the only way. It’s not, but they think like that
because they’re not willing to think of other
ways.’
Elaine was still confused. Miles was older than her, he may be making
sense to himself, but she didn’t get it.
Miles saw that she was trying to understand what he’d
said. Her brow was furrowed, one small hand gripping his T-shirt. He’d
noticed before that she did that when she was puzzled; gripped something very
hard, as though it would help her think.
He couldn’t stand it. She needed to know now.
Suddenly, like someone had turned a tap on, full power, inside his head,
Miles‘ eyes started leaking. The crying
turned to actual sobbing. Elaine pulled away, startled.
‘Miles? Miles!’ She hated
when people cried. It always made her sad as well. Sure enough, tears started
dripping down her face. ‘Miles, what’s
wrong?’
‘He’s…
He’s hitting Mam, Elaine. He’s
hitting her, and He’s hurting her, really, really badly.’
‘He… hits her?
But you said hitting’s bad!’
‘I know! But He won’t
stop!’
A snake of different emotions slithered through Elaine. Why? Why was He
doing this? Had Mam done something wrong? What did this mean? Would she get
hurt as well?
‘Don’t ask me why
He does it, Elaine.’ It was as if Miles had read her
thoughts. ‘I don’t
really know. I think it’s because He
wants to feel powerful. And getting drunk doesn’t help at all.’
‘But has Mammy been bad?’
‘No.’ Miles shot
the answer back as soon as she’d asked the
question. ‘No, Elaine, she hasn’t done anything
bad, at all. I want you to understand something.’
Gently, he pushed her back, and put his hands on her shoulders so that she was
looking directly at him. ‘Only really,
really nasty people, who want to hurt others, should ever be hurt back. Nice
people, like Mammy, who have always been nice, shouldn’t be hurt. Ever, ever.
Remember that. It’s important.’
It sank in, and stayed there.
The TV buzzed in the background. Miles’
cartoons had finished. It was the news. A reporter shuffled his papers, then
spoke in an appealing baritone.
‘A woman has been found beaten to death in her home in County Cork
today. Police believe that the suspect may be her own husband, who has -’
Miles turned off the TV.
Chores in the house had to be shared, and that night, Elaine was due for
a bath. It was Bridget’s turn to bath her, so, at 6pm, one hour before her
bedtime, Elaine and her mother set off upstairs.
Elaine didn’t really like being bathed by Bridget. It was boring, she
wouldn’t play any games. She much preferred when Miles bathed her, even
though he wasn’t very good at it, and never rinsed all the shampoo out of her
hair.
He’d do all sorts of entertaining
things to make it fun, though. He’d
collect all her toy ponies and amuse her by making them dive off the windowsill
into the bath, giving little shouts of delight and excitement. He’d
tell her jokes, and sometimes swear words he’d
learnt off Andy. She didn’t understand what they meant and she wasn’t sure
Miles entirely did either, but they still made her giggle because they sounded
so funny.
If Siobhan bathed her… Elaine
shivered. Siobhan would pull her hair, hard, so her head jerked back, and run
her long fingernails down the back of her neck. Sometimes Siobhan would pinch
her as well, always in places where no one else was likely to see; the insides
of her thighs, the soles of her feet, under her arms. All of this left sore,
pink marks, but the scratches were always hidden by a sheet of hair, and the
pinches just weren’t easily visible, so no one else ever knew about them.
Elaine never told, because she knew Siobhan would do worse things if she did.
Thirty minutes after they‘d headed upstairs, Elaine was in the bath. The
boiler was old, and it took a long time to fill the bath because the water had
to came out at little more than a trickle. If the tap was turned on full blast,
the water ran cold.
Bridget smiled slightly, and passed Elaine the small grey plastic horse
that lived by the sink. Miles had found him, in the gutter outside their house,
and brought him inside. Elaine could never think of names for her horses, so
Miles had suggested that he should be called Splash.
Elaine dipped him under the water. She could feel Bridget’s
eyes on her.
‘Mammy, why are you watching me?’
‘I just like seeing you happy, sweetheart.’
Bridget smiled, rather sadly. Elaine looked down, at the horse in her hands.
Should she ask…?
‘Mammy… Miles said
something today… and he said you were hurt.’ She
glanced up. Bridget looked shocked.
‘What… what makes
you think I‘m hurt? What makes Miles think that?’
She said shakily, smiling in a worried way.
‘He just did, he said you’d
been hit.’
Bridget didn’t want to lie. She’d always
been a truthful person. But it was so difficult…
She managed to look Elaine directly in her eyes, and said firmly, ‘I’m
fine. I promise you, sweetie. I wouldn’t lie.’
She added, ‘Close your eyes,’
and started to tip water over Elaine’s head from
a jug. When she’d finished, Elaine shook her head,
sending droplets flying in all directions. Bridget laughed slightly.
‘Watch it!’
Elaine looked at her from under her hair. Bridget seemed sort of happy
now. She couldn’t upset her by asking any more questions. Besides, she’d
said she was fine. Maybe Miles was mistaken.
She dropped Splash, letting him float on the water, and reached her arms
up, towards Bridget. ‘Mammy, I
want a hug now.’
Bridget wound her arms around her daughter, wincing. It hurt just to
love her.
After her bath, Elaine disappeared into her room, almost instantly
reached for a palomino family of horses on her dresser, and started a game with
them. This was a common occurrence; these three horses were her favourites, and
she often played with them when she had free time.
She began to breathe slowly and heavily; her nose was running. She wiped
it on her sleeve, and hoped she wasn’t getting a cold.
The horses were happy at first, but then she experimented with a darker
game. She made the father kick the mother, and the foal run away, scared.
There was a snatch of laughter from outside. Elaine jumped, knocking the
horses over. She scrambled to her feet, and looked out of the window, pulling
the curtain back slowly. Her damp hair swung forward as she leant up against
the glass, her breath steaming it.
In next doors garden, there was a Halloween party. Several tables were
set out, and covered with assorted bowls and plates, which contained all sorts
of party food. Elaine spied sausage rolls, crisps and pretzels. Several bottles
of wine, vodka and other drinks were on another smaller table, along with some
cans of lager.
Hanging on the fence were colourful lanterns, and pumpkins with carved,
grinning faces leered from under bushes.
In the light coming from them, Elaine could see many people. Mostly
adults, dancing and drinking, but there were a few young children. One, a
little girl with a curly, toffee coloured ponytail, crawled out from under a
table. She was followed by several more kids, and they all chased each other
around the garden. The first girl seemed to tire before them; she was a little
bit chubby, maybe that had something to do with it. She flopped down into the
grass, and lay on her back, looking up at the stars. The other kids instantly
left her alone, knowing she wanted peace.
Elaine could see how happy the girl was; a wide smile was on her face.
Suddenly, the girl sat up, and started to brush stray grass blades from
her ponytail. As she swung it back over her shoulder, she glimpsed Elaine, up
in the house next door, staring out at her.
She waved, grinning.
Elaine ducked behind the curtain. Oh no, the girl had seen her! What
would she think of her? Staring at her like that!
‘Mama?’
‘Yes, princess?’
Evie Blair smiled at her friends, then bent down so she could hug her daughter.
Caitlin was five years old, and looked a lot like her. Same large, brown eyes,
same wavy toffee coloured hair, same short, slightly plump frame. Evie’s
friends often joked about her clone, her ’Mini
Me’.
‘Can the girl next door come and play? She didn’t
looked very happy and I want to cheer her up.’
Evie smiled. Her girl was so warm-hearted.
‘Well, we can go and ask her, if you want?’
‘Oh, yes, yes, yes! Can we take her some sweets?’
‘Okay. Go pick her a bag you think she’ll like.’
Evie knew very little about her neighbours. They’d
already been in the neighbouring house before she’d
moved to this part of County Wexford, when she had split up from Caitlin’s
deadbeat father. She knew that a woman and three children lived there, and a
man occasionally came and stopped for a few weeks. Just a boyfriend, maybe?
Somehow, she didn’t think so.
She’d seen the mother in the back yard
hanging out washing once. She’d been pale,
with a strange purple mark on her arm, which could only be seen when her sleeve
slid up. When Evie had said hello to her, she’d
turned nervously, as if expecting attack, then smiled, in obvious discomfort,
her eyes darting towards the house. Soon after, she’d
scurried inside, clutching her washing basket.
Loud bangs sometimes came from the house. Noises Evie thought may have
been screams, but were quickly muffled. On more than one occasion, Evie had sat
wondering what went on, and sometimes even picked up the phone, her finger
paused above the nine, her mind leaping to terrible conclusions. But that was
far-fetched, surely…she’d
always put the phone back, convinced she was over-reacting. The boy who lived
there possibly had video games. A lot of noise could come from them, that must
be what it was.
She’d met him once, the boy. Miles. She’d
been sunbathing in the backyard, Caitlin playing dolls by her side, and he’d
suddenly popped his head over the face and shouted ‘Hiya!’
They’d had a brief conversation, during
which he’d
told her his name and said he liked football and maths an awful lot. She’d
told him a few jokes and he’d laughed,
delighted. All the time, he’d kept
smiling.
Suddenly, Evie called to Caitlin. ‘Honey,
get two!’
Caitlin selected the treat bags, which were being given out to the
children at the party as a present, and they both walked around to the front of
the neighbouring house. Evie knocked on the door, curious to see what she’d
find.
A girl of around ten answered. She looked them both up and down, then
said, ‘What’s
up?’ The girl was pretty, but gave off a
feeling of extreme superiority.
Evie glanced at Caitlin, who shook her head. She was a little scared.
‘Is your sister home?’
‘Yeah. I’ll get the stupid brat.’
‘That’s a little
unkind, dea-’
‘Elaine! Get your butt down here now!’
The older girl stood at the bottom of the stairs and yelled at the top of her
voice. Caitlin winced.
There were footsteps, very light and slow, as though the younger girl
didn’t want to be noticed. When she came to the door, Evie smiled at her. The
little girl must have been about Caitlin’s
age, with straight brown hair and worried eyes. She hid half behind the door,
peering timidly out. The older girl had vanished.
‘Hi, darling. We live next door.’
Evie said it, then got annoyed with herself. Was that ’darling’
patronising?
Caitlin decided to be brave, and stepped forward, holding the bags out.
She grinned. ‘We got you sweets and…er…Mama,
why’ve we got two?’
Evie smiled encouragingly at her daughter, then the girl. ‘Because
we thought your brother might like one as well.’
Caitlin nodded, picking up where she‘d
left off. ‘There’s
some really nice ones, like the pink ones, they‘re
my favourite colour. We’re having a
party, and I chose what sweets go in the bags.’
Caitlin paused. ‘What’s
your name?’
‘Elaine.’ It was a
whisper. She added, ‘I don’t
take sweets from strangers.’
‘Oh, of course! How silly of us! Elaine, could you get
your mother please?’
Elaine nodded, and disappeared. Evie noted mentally that she had acted
like a complete idiot. A stranger offering Elaine sweets, no wonder she’d
been so scared! She also wondered whether to get Caitlin to run back home, and
grab another bag for Elaine’s sister,
but decided against it. There was something about that girl she just didn’t
like.
A moment later, Bridget appeared. Elaine was standing close by her side,
her hands gripping her mothers long skirt.
‘Erm…hello…’
She sounded nervous. Evie thought she was extremely attractive. She had no
make-up masking the delicate features on her face, and her hair looked just
like a sandy blonde waterfall, very silky with a wave to it.
She seemed un-necessarily nervous, hiding behind the door like her daughter had done.
‘Hiya! We’re your
neighbours!’ Evie realised that might be a bit
too cheery. She
chose a more normal voice. ‘I’m
Evie and this is Caitlin.’
‘I’m Bridget.’
She muttered it, eyeing them as though they were axe murderers.
Evie continued, a little confused. ‘We
just wondered whether your son and daughter might want some Halloween sweets.
We’re giving them out to all the kids at our party.’
She thought, then added, ‘If you want,
you and your children can come over and join us.’
She laughed. ‘It’s
quite fun, and my friends are really nice…’
She trailed off.
Bridget was shaking her head, rather sadly it seemed. ‘I’m
sorry, I really am, but we don’t go to
parties.’
Caitlin saw Elaine’s face turn
thoroughly miserable. ‘Maybe Elaine
wants to,’ she said bravely. ‘Do
you, Elaine? There’s a lot of kids like us there, and
we’re playing really good games. I made a new one up just
a while ago.’
Elaine looked tempted. Caitlin smiled at her warmly. She stepped forward
, and reached out a hand towards Elaine. ‘Come
on. Come and play! Or…or if you
don’t want to run round, I’ve got toys.
Lots and lots of dolls, I like dolls. We can play inside.’
Evie watched them, holding her breath. Bridget looked like she was about
to cry.
‘I’m so sorry…Caitlin.’
She struggled to remember the name. ‘But she
really can’t.’
Caitlin looked at Elaine, who bit her lip. She could sense Bridget
really did mean no, but she was very sorry. Slowly, she reached out and pressed
the handles of the bags into Elaine’s hand. A
tiny smile appeared on her face.
‘Thank you. That’s
nice…’
Evie and Caitlin grinned at her.
‘I hope you enjoy them, Elaine.’
Evie looked back at Bridget. ‘If you
change your mind, come straight round. Anytime actually. We’ll have coffee or
something, have a chat about all sorts of stuff.’
‘Yes, that’d be…’
Bridget looked like she was trying to think of a word. It took her a long time
and Evie giggled slightly. Bridget joined in. Evie was stunned by how young she
looked when she laughed. Before she’d seemed
old, tired, now she looked like a teenager.
‘It’d be…
good, anyway. I’ll see if I can, some time.’
Smiling shyly, Bridget closed the door.
Evie and Caitlin stood for a few seconds, staring at it, Evie savouring
the laugh. She’d made her happy!
‘Mama…?’
Caitlin tugged on Evie’s trouser
leg. ‘Why wouldn’t they come to the party?’
‘I don’t know, pet.
Bridget did say that they aren’t into parties though, didn’t she?’
Evie knew she should maybe think about all this more - Bridget was
obviously being repressed somehow - but she kept imagining that laugh, loud and
bright. Even when she took Caitlin’s hand and
led her back to their own garden, it lingered in her mind.
Elaine carried the bags upstairs. Miles was out, so she decided that she’d
keep his sweets in her room instead of placing them on his bed. If Siobhan
found out that they were unguarded in Miles‘
room, she’d eat them.
When she reached her room, Elaine crawled on her stomach under her bed,
and hid them there. When she edged back out, she found she was covered in dust.
Bridget wouldn’t be happy, she might need another bath tomorrow. She
sneezed a few times.
Suddenly…a bang from downstairs. She
recognised that noise. The front door was being thrown open, and hitting the
wall. It heralded His arrival.
Elaine paused, her head to one side, listening for Him. She winced as
His voice rose from a mumble to a yell.
‘Well, where the Hell is it, you stupid cow?!’
There was a smashing sound, and a shriek.
Elaine climbed onto her bed, and huddled beneath the duvet. Where was
Miles? She needed him! All the happiness that had arrived when she’d met
Caitlin vanished.
Another crash.
‘Get back here! I said…GET
HERE NOW!!’
A scream. A bang. A shout.
Siobhan turned her music on next door, as loud as she could, making Elaine
jump. The sounds from downstairs were covered. Was He coming upstairs now? She
wouldn’t be able to tell.
The door creaked open. Elaine started shaking, watching it as it moved
inch by inch. She started crying, sobbing, closing her eyes tight. She needed
Miles right now.
She opened her eyes slowly, hoping He wouldn’t be standing there. The
only thing He ever did was taunt her, cruel sharp words that stung her like
wasps, or shout at her, His head right next to her so her eardrums ached. But
still, she didn’t want that.
She wanted Him to go away, leave her alone.
Her vision was blurry, and all she could see was a dark figure. She
tried to stop crying, so she could find out who it was.
It wasn’t Him.
It was Miles, his face creased in concern for her. He’d
dropped a carrier bag on the floor, and it had spilled its contents; assorted
chocolate bars, wrapped sweets, two cans of lemonade.
‘Ssh, it’s okay. It’s
okay…’ Miles was almost crying as well. He
leant forward, hugging her tightly, and whispering words of comfort to her.
It wasn’t until she moved towards him that Elaine realised she’d
wet herself in fright. Her face burned with embarrassment.
Miles noticed. ‘Oh…that’s
all right. You were scared, weren’t you? I’m
sorry. Your door hinges need oiling, I couldn’t open it quickly. I guess it
goes with Halloween!’ He joked lamely.
The music in the room next door was still blaring, so he had to say it
right next to her ear. Elaine nodded, still mortified. She didn’t seem to do
that often.
‘Listen to me, hon. They’re
still shouting, but they won’t hear you.
Go into the bathroom and get changed. I’ll do
the bed. You can get dressed easy, right?’
Elaine nodded, and got up. Even though Miles had changed her sheets
before, it humiliated her beyond belief.
Miles handed her some clean pyjamas, and she slowly opened the door. He
was right, it was stiff. She couldn’t hear anything over the music.
In the bathroom, Elaine quickly changed out of her wet pyjamas and into
the dry ones.
Her ears kept straining to hear the argument, even though she didn’t actually
want to hear it.
Leaving her old clothes on the floor, she tiptoed back to her room.
Suddenly, a shadow moved on the wall at the bottom of the stairs. She nipped
back into her room, pushing the door shut behind her.
‘He’s coming,
Miles!’
Miles dropped the clean sheets, and ran to Elaine, pressing his hands
over her ears. He always did this. She knew he was trying to block out sound
when Siobhan was made to turn her music off, but it didn’t work, she could still
hear, and she’d never told him.
Heavy footsteps passed by Elaine’s
room. There was a bang of a door being thrown open, then…
‘TURN THAT OFF NOW, YOU BITCH!!’
He never spoke, just shouted it seemed. There was a squeal, then the
music snapped off, the silence that followed echoing.
‘If you ever do that again, I swear I will kill you!’
He used the same threat every time. It was empty, but it always sounded
like He actually meant it.
Another bang; He’d left Siobhan’s room. A second later, Elaine heard Siobhan
leave it too, and run downstairs.
Miles took his hands from Elaine’s ears.
‘You all right?’
‘Yes. Sure.’ Elaine was used to it. Although He scared her, she’d learnt
to cope, to an extent anyway.
Miles continued to make the bed, while Elaine picked up the toy horses
she’d left scattered on the floor from earlier. She started to gather up the
objects that had fallen out of the bag Miles had brought as well.
‘Oh! Yes, that stuff!’ Miles took the bag from her, and tipped it out
again on the newly made bed.
‘I was trying to get things clean.’ Elaine frowned at him.
Miles laughed. ‘Well, I have to halve it, don’t I?’
‘Halve it?’
‘Split it in two, coz some is yours and some is mine.’ He made two neat
piles. ‘Me and Andy did some trick or treating, but we didn’t get much, so we
went to the shops and got some more. Happy Halloween!’
‘I’ve got some already!’ Elaine dropped onto her stomach, retrieving the
two bags she’d got from Evie and Caitlin from under the bed. ‘Those people next
door gave them to us.’
‘Oh, ace! Lots and lots more!’
Elaine sat on her bed, legs crossed, watching Miles sort everything out.
She didn’t feel like eating any of it, even when he offered her chocolate.
‘Come on, ‘Lainey, you love chocolate!’
‘I’m not hungry.’
‘Really? Wow, weird.’ He kept grinning. ‘None for Shev, ha!’ He suddenly
straightened up, and crossed to the door. Two sets of feet were wearily coming
up the stairs.
‘Hang on a min, ‘Lainey.’ Miles left, and Elaine instantly ran to the
door, pressing her ear against it.
‘Mam, you all right?’
‘Yes, yes, fine.’ Bridget sounded slurred, as if she was drunk. She kept
sniffing. Elaine heard Siobhan whisper, ‘You’re gonna stay in my room, right?
Miles, can you stay with Elaine? Just try and get her off to sleep. Look after
her.’
‘Yeah, sure. Do you want -’
‘No, we’re all right. Come on, Mam.’ They moved, incredibly slowly, past
Elaine’s door. She backed away from it, and Miles burst in, grinning from ear
to ear. His eyes looked a little pink, and he had a few reddish drops on his
white t-shirt.
‘Oh, I’m so shattered. I’m gonna fall asleep… hmm… right here…’
He flopped facedown onto Elaine’s bed, feigning tiredness. She didn’t try and
move him, just lay down next to him, looking at him.
After what he’d told her earlier, why was he so happy? He wouldn’t lie,
would he? She was so confused. He hadn’t mentioned it again. He’d even cried,
and now it seemed as if it didn’t matter.
Was any of it true? Bridget had said - insisted - she was fine, but
there were so many bruises, they couldn’t all be accidents.
How much had He done?
Through the curtains, she saw a flash of coloured light. Fireworks. She
could hear shouts of happiness, and laughter, from next door, from the party.
She wished she could have gone, and maybe made a friend.
She rolled over again, her back to the window, and tried in vain to
sleep.
Her dreams were filled with moving shadows, red flashes and screams.
And bruises.
--------------------------------------------------------
Well, glad this is
over! I seem to specialize in depressive stories, and this is no exception. Hopefully
this will help explain some elements of Ochre’s younger life that I won’t
manage to work into ‘Unfinished Business’.
The character of Miles is one I like
immensely, though I don‘t really know why. Obviously, he is the main role model
and figure of support in Elaines life, and she depends mainly on him, because
the relationship with her sister is so strained, and her mother is unable to
look after her well.
I tried to show the
contrast between them and ‘ordinary’ people i.e. Caitlin and Evie. They will
feature more in later stories.
And thanks a lot to
Chris! Your beta’ing is always incredibly helpful and helps me improve later
stories too!
I hope you enjoyed
it, and don’t feel like hunting me down and throwing things at me for depressing
you.
L. Sheridan 7th September
2008
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