The Dark Half Chapter 14
By Janet Baldey
ALEC
He had to admit she hadn’t reacted like he’d thought
she would, not even when the coffin was carried into the crem. Certainly, not
like Ma. Even before the service had
begun, his shoulder was aching like a bastard where her head had been resting
for the past half hour, and his good Mohair, the one he’d bought especially for
the ceremony, was fast becoming saturated by her blubbing. He sat staring
stonily in front of him, brooding about the money it had cost. He hoped it
wasn’t being ruined and felt like pushing her away but realised it wouldn’t
look good. It was in his own best interests to play the part of the devoted son
supporting his mother in her hour of need. With stealthy sidelong glances, he looked
around at the scattering of mourners making up the congregation and a sneer lifted
his lip. It was best to be careful but really, there was no need to put on a show
in front of these imbeciles, the ragtag remnants of his dad’s family. They all looked as if they’d been dragged off
the streets, not one of them good for the next five years. Dismissing them from
his mind, he shifted his shoulder and began the furtive procedure of
extricating his handkerchief from his top pocket and making it into a wad to
soak up some of his Ma’s tears. During this one-handed process, he took the
opportunity of peeking at his sister who was sitting bolt upright as if a poker
had been stuck up her arse. No sign of tears although her face was colourless if you didn’t count the shadows underneath her eyes. Panda eyes, he thought,
perhaps I should call her Chi Chi. An insane urge to giggle surfaced but he
managed to suppress it. He had to admit he was disappointed by her reaction.
After all that effort he’d expended persuading Ma to let him make the call.
“Let me do it Ma. You’re worn out. Let me make you
a cuppa, and then you have a nice rest. Talking to Anna would only upset you
all over again.”
He’d
been as good as his word and had brewed a cup of tea for her, all the while
wrinkling his nose at the state of the kitchen. She hadn’t even bothered to
wash up, there were dirty plates everywhere and he had to search for a clean
cup. She wouldn’t notice the crack, he decided. He’d paused for a minute
wondering whether to slip one of her sleeping pills into it but in the event,
she was fast asleep and snoring when he’d brought in the tea.
So, he’d
gone into the hall, picked up the telephone and made the call. The ‘phone rang
for a long time before she answered and
he was wondering whether to leave some sort of message, cryptic or
brutal he couldn’t make up his mind when suddenly her voice came on the line.
“Hello
Anna. It’s me. Sorry to disturb you. Hope you weren’t doing anything
important.” He’d made his voice oily as
hell and paused waiting for a response. This was too good to rush.
“What is
it Alec?”
“I’m
afraid I’ve got some news. Are you sitting down?”
And then
he’d hit her with it. Pressing his ear hard against the receiver, he distinctly
heard her gasp and felt a grin as broad as the Cheshire cat’s cover his face.
There
was a long silence before she spoke again, she’d tried hard but he heard the
tremble in her voice.
“Is this
one of your jokes, Alec. Because if so…..”
He’d cut
her off. “As if I would joke about a thing like this, Sis.” God, he was good.
In other circumstances, the hurt reproach in his voice would have won him an
Oscar.
“Can I
speak to Mum, please?”
“Better
not at the moment, she’s sleeping. She’s very upset. Call back in the morning,
eh?
And that
was it. He had hoped that she would have
reacted like Ma and all-but collapsed into a sodden, hysterical heap but even
now she still seemed to be holding it together. Mind you, it shouldn’t have
come as a surprise. She’d always been a cold cow, although once or twice he’d
managed to pierce her shell – that bloody kitten for instance. And then, there
was Greta. A grin bloomed somewhere deep inside and his face muscles ached as
he struggled to contain it. That had been one of his better pranks, mentally he
licked one finger and marked an invisible scorecard. Even from the time he was
very young he knew how to settle a grudge. All it took was patience. He’d remember it, nurse it, almost cherish
it, as he honed his revenge to perfection. Then, all he had to do was wait for
the right occasion. He was way back in
the past now, only his body present, standing and sitting in time with the
other members of the assembly as his father was committed to the afterlife.
Did they
really think he couldn’t hear them as he ran back to his mother, his leg throbbing
with pain, his shirt ripped and dirt underneath his fingernails. Both his
rotten sister and that horrible girl in the pink dress were laughing at him,
their shrieks spiralling into the sky, getting louder and louder until his ears
ached. He’d tell his Mummy. He’d say
they’d pushed him over but when he’d limped into the house, his Ma was bent
over a box, her bottom sticking up in the air and wouldn’t listen to him.
“Don’t
bother me now,” she’d said. “Can’t you see I’m busy.”
So,
they’d got away with it. But, he never forgot and eventually they paid for it. It took him a while, over five years if one
wanted to be precise, but he’d got there in the end.
After
the kitten incident, Anna and that Greta girl grew so thick it was almost as
though they shared the same skin, like Siamese twins. As soon as Anna got home
from school, she’d gobble a bit of tea and then she was off next door not
coming back until it was dark. He ground his teeth as he remembered his
frustration. Before it had been relatively easy to keep an eye on her, it was
part of his skill set perfected over the years. Easy really, all he had to do
was follow her at a safe distance and melt into the shadows if required. Post
kitten, it was bloody hard. In good weather, it wasn’t so bad, they’d spread an
old blanket over the grass and lie giggling and whispering together like a
couple of old tarts. He’d crouch down behind the hedge and listen to them.
Although he couldn’t hear much, he bet they were talking about him. The
bitches. But in bad weather, it was different. They’d either shelter in the old
shed at the end of the garden, well away from the hedge, or they’d go inside.
In either case it was impossible for him to follow. He just had to wait and
seethe as he imagined what they were saying about him.
Then one
day, he got lucky. There was no sign of
the girls in the back garden and donning his metaphorical cloak of
invisibility, he slid round to the front of the house. There they were, sitting
on the front wall chatting to a couple of boys. He recognised one of them, his
name was Barry Peters and he was in the sixth form of their school. Tall and
gangly, he had a mop of black, curly hair but more importantly, he was the
owner of a bright red Raleigh
with low-slung handlebars - a proper racing bike. He was on it now, one leg
thrown carelessly over its cross-bar, the other steadying the bike against the
kerb. A proper show-off; Alec remembered the way he’d fought feelings of scorn
and envy. Then, he’d looked at his sister, noting the rapt expression on her
face as she gazed at the boy. He’d sniggered. Anna was in love. He also
realised she stood no chance. Quite clearly, the boy’s attention was centred on
Greta who sparkled in response. Alec had felt a great joy bloom, Anna’s heart
was about to be broken.
He
didn’t have to wait long. One dark evening, he’d heard the back door slam and
had peered into the hall just in time to see Anna plod up the stairs. Her
shoulders slumped as she hauled herself upwards, clinging onto the banisters as
though they were a life-line and late into the night, Alec lay listening to
the sound of his sister cry herself to
sleep.
After
that, it was easy. His sister put a brave face on it but she didn’t go round to
Greta’s much anymore. Most evenings, a red racing cycle was to be seen chained
to next door’s gate while Greta and Barry were nowhere to be seen. On those
evenings, Anna kept to her room, telling her mother she had a lot of studying
to do. Also on those evenings, Alec kept
to his room but he wasn’t studying. He was practising. He found Anna’s
handwriting quite difficult at first but in the end he managed quite a good job
and he’d never forget the look on her face when Greta marched up and slapped
her hard around her face. He’d been following her around all day and just
happened to be in the right place at the right time.
“How
dare you? You jealous bitch! I thought you were my friend and all this time you
were plotting to split Barry and me up.
Well, let me tell you this…it hasn’t worked so you can suck on that. And
I’ll tell you something else, I will never forgive your lies and I will never,
ever, speak to you again.”
By now,
the service had ended and his father’s coffin was disappearing behind the
curtain and towards the all-consuming fire but Alec hardly noticed. His plan
had worked perfectly. That berk Barry
had opened his locker door and a cascade of little white notes had landed in a
heap at his feet.
“What
the…..” The curly-haired oaf had bent
down, picked one up and read it. His face had turned a tinge of beetroot and
seeing that with whoops of joy other boys had grabbed handfuls, reading them
aloud in mock sopranos. “Oh, Barry I love you”, they sighed. “She is not good enough for you….” “Oh Barry, choose me…” Jeering laughter
turned the locker room into Bedlam and Barry’s flush had deepened into maroon
as his love life was dissected in great detail by a group of hormonal
teenagers. Thoroughly humiliated he slammed his locker shut and blundered down
the corridor in search of Greta. What a .laugh that was! But the biggest laugh
was yet to come. Anna ran home early in a state of shock. Thoroughly
traumatised she refused to return to school for the rest of the term even
though she had planned to go onto sixth form. Instead, she decided to take a college
course in secretarial duties and that was her great career ruined.
Tearing
himself away from the past, Alec was just in time to see the curtains close
behind his father as the congregation stood for the final hymn. He looked
around at the dingy little room, Thank goodness, he’d managed to wean Ma away
from a full-blown burial. She’d been set on the works, four black horses with
plumes and all that malarkey. Burning was much better. Not that there was
anything for him to worry about. Even if the old man had been buried, their
doddering old GP had elected not to order an autopsy so he doubted whether
anything could be proved. He’d been very careful. Anyway, his Pa had been on
his way out, that had been clear for a long time. All Alec had done was given him
a little nudge in the right direction.
Taking
his mum by the arm, he stared fixedly in front of him as he led the way out of
the chamber. He didn’t even bother to look at Anna but if she thought their
feud was over, she was very much mistaken. She thought he didn’t know where she
lived and that was another mistake. She must think he was stupid, all that
nonsense trying to cover her tracks. There were ways and means, especially in
his line of business. There was always one of his ‘clients’ desperate enough to
do him a favour and to them, following someone home was a piece of cake. And
now he had an ace up his sleeve. A big
one with bright red hair.
Copyright Janet
Baldey
