It's been a long time, I know. It's been a really hectic 18 months or so, though thankfully I have finally reached a point where I have some time for myself - time to stop and reflect, and do some creative stuff - writing, sewing, drawing - and of course some baking too, as the body needs feeding as much as the spirit...
I am really looking forward to catching up with where you all are and reading your blogs again - I hope you are well and life has been good for you while I have been away.
The biggest news is that I am currently taking a little time out from work to do some writing. I am aiming to finish a novel that has been sitting on my computer for nearly a decade. I have wanted to be a writer for almost as long as I can remember - probably something to do with the joy I get from reading, which I have enjoyed since I was really small. I am finally in a position to take a few months away from work and I thought it would be good to grasp the opportunity with both hands before I get back to the 9-5.
I recently entered a short story competition (run by The Guardian) and, although I didn't get anywhere, I felt really positive about having at least submitted something. So I thought I would share it here so you can let me know your thoughts. The brief was for a horror story - not something I had ever done before. I've not done a short story either, so this was a first for me on both counts.
I hope you enjoy! (Be warned - there is some moderately bad language, but nothing too dreadful). Feel free to provide some honest feedback! As I say, it's my first attempt so I know I have a lot to learn and improve on.
We were down at the
lake. Everyone in our
year called it The Lonely, but I'd felt more
loneliness in the thrumming corridor at school than in its green depths. We were
water babies, you and I; we had just slithered in like a
couple of newts in our ugly school bathers.
'I'm going to swim
the English channel,' I announced.
'Oh yeah?'
'Yes,' I said, the word
skittling across the surface of the lake with more confidence than I felt.
'I've been practicing every morning.'
'I've been practicing every morning.'
'Race you then!'
'Where to?'
You laughed, flopped over like
a fish and kicked. Of course - we were racing to
the island. I lost myself in clean rhythm, you at
my elbow. For the last stretch, I switched to butterfly, and hauled myself
onto the shore, nose streaming, chest heaving like a bellows.
'You cheated,' you
gargled at me, spitting out a mouthful of water and giggling. 'You can't
do the butterfly for twenty miles.'
'Twenty one' I manage.
'Twenty one then.'
'Well obviously I'm not
planning to sprint all the way! But I want to be the youngest. So
I’ve got five years to practice.'
'Assuming we live that long,'
you said casually, your words squashed down somehow by the damp in
the summer air.
That growl, for a moment
quieted by the water, gnawed at my stomach again. 'We're not going
to die. Wendy's gone to get help and it's only half a day’s hike.
'A hike that she wouldn’t have
needed to go on if someone hadn't cut the phone line.'
'Someone cut the phone
line? I thought it was blown down?' My insides shrank.
'I saw it. It was
definitely cut – right outside the office.'
'Well anyway, all of us
are fine. And Miss Hammond and Miss Travis aren't dead,
they're just unconscious.'
'Unconscious for two days
isn't that far from being dead. And why is it both of them and not any of
us girls? Or Michael and Alim?'
Michael and Alim.
Poor little sods. We all detested being stuck at school all
summer, but as the only two boys and the youngest of us by far, they
really were on their own. I don’t know what was worse for
them - that their own mothers couldn’t be bothered to fetch
them, or that nine similarly rejected girls were attempting
to stand substitute. With the teachers unwell - to use our
comfortingly adult phrase - we were all they had.
Martha was so utterly terrified they would fall, or drown, or bang their
heads, that she already had a babysitting rota cooked up for all
of us. Any seven year old's dream.
'I'm more worried that we
wasted a whole afternoon trying to break down the headmistress's door to get at
the phone, only to find the line cut. She's going to go nuts when she
gets back.'
'That's what
I mean. That office key was the only one missing on the
bunch. Something nasty is going on.'
'Something nasty? What do you
mean?’ I tried not to let my voice shake. ‘Miss Hammond and Miss
Travis both just collapsed in the corridor outside
dinner hall. It can't be poison, they wouldn’t both have
dropped at exactly the same time like that and besides, they hadn't
eaten.'
'I mean something other than
how they collapsed. I went in there this morning, and there was Pam,
bustling around trying to look busy -'
'Playing nurse,' I rolled
my eyes.
'Of course. And I
noticed one of Miss Hammond's fingernails was missing.'
'Maybe it tore when she
fell.'
'I don't think so. It was
still bleeding a bit. And a big clump of her hair was
yanked out. Right at the front.'
'Gross.' I paused. 'I mean, I
hate her as much as anyone, she's a witch and a half. But that's
a horrible thing to do when someone's unconscious.'
'Exactly. It's one thing
to imagine pushing her down the stairs in the heat of the moment when she's
grilling you on conjugations and making you feel this big' - you pinched your
thumb and finger together till the skin was white - 'but
it's another thing to actually bloody get stuck in.'
'What did Pam say?'
'That she'd been there
all night. I asked her if she'd noticed Miss's fingernail
was gone. She said no it wasn't. Then when I
showed her, she said the same as you; that it must have caught on the
carpet when we were carrying her to the infirmary. So I pointed
out it was still bleeding. She went all red and asked if I was accusing her of
something. Then she kicked me out before I could ask if she'd fallen
asleep or whatever.'
'Stroppy cow.'
'Like it would be her
anyway. It would be way too obvious. Besides, snap her in half and
she'd have 'Prefect' through the middle like a stick of Brighton rock.'
We managed a half laugh.
'What about Miss Travis then?'
I asked. 'Was she ok?'
'Not a mark on her.
Hardly surprising though, since she is just about the nicest teacher in this
dump.'
'So what, you think that
someone deliberately what, electrocuted them or something?'
'No. My dad got electrocuted
once rewiring the porch and he thrashed round for ages. They just
dropped. I don't know what's wrong with them, but I think they're just
ill. Or at least they were.'
'So someone has just taken the
opportunity to stick it to Miss Hammond?'
'I guess so. And the
phone and the key and stuff was to slow us down so she could get in there
while Pam wasn't there, to do her dirty work.
It must be one of us girls. Michael and Alim have
hardly been alone long enough to pee practically and besides, they’re
tiny.'
'Well, hopefully this is the
end of it anyway. Wendy's pretty outdoorsy and she is the
oldest. She'll get help here before long,' I said, with more
conviction than I felt. I sank my
trembling hand into the mud to try and still it.
'Unless it was Wendy who did
it,' you said.
'Come on. It wouldn't be
Wendy. She's deputy head girl.'
'So deputy head girls can't be
evil? Remember Laura Winchester?'
'No, but Wendy's deputy head
girl because she's Miss Hammond's pet. They’ve got a full on mutual fan
club going.'
'So it's not Pam and it's not
Wendy or the boys – or you or me. That leaves five.'
'Well... it could be you.' You
wrinkled your nose at me and showed your front teeth like a
rabbit.
'You've found me out!'
I laughed, jumped up and fled shrieking back into
the safety of the lake. After a moment you caught up
with me and dunked my head under. I rose up, gasping, pushing a
sheet of green water over your surprised face. We were in
anxious hysterics, full of fear but guiltily relishing this slice of
freedom. You grabbed my head and kissed my temple, hard.
'It's not you, you
big wet. But it could be me,' you whispered through the water
in my ear. Pulling a face like a gargoyle, you dove under backwards
and resurfaced a few metres away, swimming. I grinned over at you.
Suddenly, a voice floated over the water, unwelcome as an oil slick.
'COME HERE!' it yelled.
We both struck for shore.
'Get your clothes on,'
barked Samantha as we squelched up the bank a few moments later.
'No time to dry off. I've wasted half an hour looking for you two.'
'No time to dry off. I've wasted half an hour looking for you two.'
'But it's not time for
breakfast yet,' I said, wrestling my shorts up cold, muddy
legs. The mosquitos crowded round me like an audience. Samantha
flung my blouse at my head and marched off on kitten heels, bottom
waggling like a scratching hen. Nature never was
her forte.
'Never mind you,' I muttered,
'my money's on bloody Samantha.' We snickered as we pushed our
way through the thin line of trees and back up the path to
the school. She turned, hands on hips, and pursed her squidgy
lips. My heart dropped.
'I'm
glad you think it's funny,' she said. 'It's happened again.'
* *
*
Hannah had been laid out
in the infirmary. We pressed round her in
awkward silence. Her skin was winter white, blue veins
showing like cobwebs. Her waspish little
mouth was bloodless; her blonde plait strung out like rope
across the pillow; her breaths shallow.
I turned to you and saw the
grim lines of your face. You gestured very
slightly towards her right hand, half under the pillow.
Every single slender finger was out of joint.
My face went hot
and my guts went cold. My ears started ringing.
I couldn't get at the oxygen in
the air. The room lurched uncomfortably.
Oh god, I thought, it's my turn.
You grabbed my wrist as
I fell backwards. Someone started screaming but you hung
on, and as I was dropping into blackness you kept your bright brown eyes
fixed on mine.
'Breathe,'
you commanded. I sucked in a big gulp of air.
'Get a chair' you said in that
same voice. A chair appeared behind me, just as my knees
gave.
'A glass of water.' Out
of the corner of my eye I saw little Sophie Stephens take off at a run,
her knees pumping.
'Get a paper bag from the
nurse's office.' Then I heard the distinctive drawl of Meredith Hancock, all-star
hockey player, snaking through the air behind me.
'I'm not fetching anything,'
she drawled, unfurling herself like a flag. 'I'm off to get some
breakfast.' She slouched out of the room like an affronted cowboy.
'I'll fetch it,' said Alim
earnestly, his eyes flashing with concern.
'Good idea,' you said, and
smiled over at him.
'Take Michael with
you!' said Martha sharply. No one argued, though the nurse's office was
just outside the door.
Someone choked on a sob.
'Calm down,' you soothed. Your voice suggested that this sort of
thing was perfectly normal; that everything was going to be fine.
'Just sit down. We'll take five minutes, then we'll go and get some
breakfast.' I felt a little less sick.
'What if this is poison
though?' shot back Martha, gesturing at the bed. 'I don't want to eat anything
if it might be poison. And Michael and Alim definitely
can't! They’re so little, if it knocked Miss out, it could kill them.'
'Well then, let’s assume it's
a virus, but to be on the safe side, we can have eggs from
the henhouse for breakfast. We'll open a new can of oil and
a new pack of crackers and we can eat tinned fruit too. That way we
know none of the food has been tampered with.'
'Someone could still tamper
with something before we ate it. And we can't open a tin each - that
would just be stupid,' said Samantha.
'Well then, we'll just have to
prepare the food all together on the table in the kitchen, won't we. With
everyone watching, no one will be able to mess with it.'
Sophie puffed into
the room like a steam train. 'Sorry I took so long' she gasped, 'I didn’t know
where the glasses were.'
'Don't worry, Sophie, you were
really quick' I said, smiling weakly.
'Definitely,' you told her.
'You should try out for the relay team next term when you go up to seniors.'
Her freckled face beamed for a moment.
I sipped my
water.
'Feeling a bit better?'
'Definitely,' I said.
Alim poked his head round the
door and waved a paper bag. 'Here you are.' Michael's face slid into view
behind him. 'Can we go for breakfast now?'
'Wait a minute,' you replied.
'We're all going together.'
Michael rolled his eyes and sighed. Alim darted across the room and laid the brown paper bag carefully in my lap. I huffed into it obligingly for a moment or two.
'Actually, Pam,' you said,
'Can I have a quick word? Alone?'
Pam strode over with the
confident usefulness of a Newfoundland, and you jerked your head toward
the door. The two of you strolled, faux calm, down the length
of the infirmary, and stood in the darkened doorway with half an eye
out in case anyone came close. Everyone held their breath; even dopey
little Michael's ears pricked up, but
you couldn't be heard.
You came back in.
'Pam and I are going to try to
make them all a bit more comfortable – but we don't want to make you wait
to eat. Why don’t all of you go and join Meredith in the
kitchen and we'll join you in a couple of minutes.'
'Michael and Alim can
stay here' added Pam, 'since it's my turn to look after them.' You
half froze, then inclined your head slightly in agreement.
'We don't need telling twice,'
said Sophie loudly. 'It's a bit creepy in here, and I'm
starving.'
'Why don't you go via the hen
house and fetch the eggs?' you suggested. Michael giggled
suddenly.
'Sorry,' said Alim. 'I told
him a joke.'
'Good idea,' said
Martha.
The three of them
trooped out in single file like condemned soldiers walking to the
wall.
‘Do you know who did it?’
asked Pam quietly.
‘Not yet,’ you replied.
'Right, now they’re gone, let's
get this over with,' Pam said coolly. You nodded and
gripped Hannah's arm. Pam picked up her right hand and suddenly
jerked the index finger back into place with an
obscene crunch. I could have sworn for a second I
saw her foot twitch. My head spun again and
I retched into the bag.
'What are you doing?' asked
Alim, his small face wreathed in worry. Michael was over in the
corner being a Spitfire, lost to the world.
'Hannah's fingers must
have got a bit hurt when she fell,' you explained. 'We have to
fix it straight away, or she won't be able to play
the piano next term.' Or ever, I added silently.
'Why don't the three of you go outside for some fresh air and we’ll be there in a minute.'
'Why don't the three of you go outside for some fresh air and we’ll be there in a minute.'
'Good idea,' I
managed.
Somehow,
I stumbled down the infirmary, past the nurse's
office, and through the porch, boys in tow. As we
stepped into muggy air, Mr Timmins, the school's resident
feral tom, sauntered toward us. Michael turned his face up
to me. 'Want to know a secret?'
'Don't tell her,' said Alim.
'Look what happened last time you told. And she said not to tell!'
'What is it?' I asked.
'You mustn't tell
anyone. Promise?'
'Promise.'
'Watch. It's a game' Michael
crouched down, calling the cat. 'Mr Timmins, here boy!'
The cat fixed him with a
predatory stare and picked up a forepaw – then crumpled into a boneless heap of
fur.
'It's called Sleeping Beauty,'
he said as my legs went weak beneath me. 'Don't worry, he'll come round in a
minute or two. I only winked at him a tiny bit.'
* *
*
We somehow made
it through to the evening, huddled in the common room, taking shifts
to drag blankets down from our dorms. The oppressive damp
of the humid August afternoon sucked
up our energy. With no adults around to stay
angry hands, I hugged Michael's secret to me. He was
so little. And it wasn't him wrecking people's
fingers.
I wanted to tell you, but I
couldn't get you alone even for a minute. Pam, as you'd suggested, stayed
locked in the infirmary to keep watch – doubtless loving every
moment. You'd gone to get some tea brewed before taking over from
her for the evening.
No one dared walk down that
long dark corridor alone - the corridor where they'd
all collapsed. And although I didn't fear
sweet little Michael, I couldn't afford to stand out.
The air was sweaty with suspicion. We were a breath from mob
rule. Trying to be grown up, and younger than ever.
About five to
nine, with the radio chuntering in the corner and all
of us trapped between terror and exhaustion, Meredith flung herself out of
her chair. 'I'm going for a ciggie.'
'I'll come with you, if you
like,' Samantha piped up.
'You don't smoke,' sneered
Meredith. Samantha shrunk back into the sofa like a woodlouse curling
into a ball.
'You have to take Michael
and Alim, Meredith, it's your turn,' said Martha officiously.
Meredith rolled her eyes at the two boys. Michael giggled.
Meredith rolled her eyes at the two boys. Michael giggled.
'Fine! But I'm buggered if any
of you losers are coming outside to watch me smoke.'
'Mind if I walk with you as
far as the loos?' I asked.
'Suit yourself.'
We walked along the
dim corridor, in the least companionable silence in the history of the
world. Meredith was edgy, though she would
have stared down a rabid bear before
admitting any fear. I peeled off as we reached
the toilets, relieved, squeezing Michael's
shoulder companionably as I left.
As I came out a few moments
later, wiping shaking hands on my jeans, I heard the boys laughing
outside. I looked towards the porch.
The infirmary door
was ajar. It should have been locked. An arm was flopped
out through the open doorway.
My chest squeezed. I started
running.
Pam lay bleeding on the
threshold, unconscious. Her pretty nose broken. As I reached her, I
heard a hiss.
'Fix your fingers will
she, clever little minx?'
Rounding the doorway, I
saw a fall of dark hair. For a horrible moment, I thought it was you. The
scissors glinted in her hand. That awful voice came forth
again.
'Let's see them fix this. No
music prize for you this year.'
She turned to get a better
grip on Hannah's hand as she closed the blades on her little finger.
Suddenly, I saw her face. She saw mine.
'Michael!' she yelled,
dropping the scissors with a clatter. Michael came running in. 'She hurt
Pamela!'
In confusion, I turned towards
the door.
'Wink!' she
screeched.
As I caught sight of him,
he hesitantly dropped his eyelid. In a split second
of agonising slowness, I fell with it. It
was not as I imagined. I wasn't asleep. There was no
merciful darkness as I painfully hit the floor.
'Quickly boys! Run! Get the
other girls!'
I heard
the door bang. I couldn't turn my head.
As their feet thudded down the
corridor, she hauled me onto her strong back like a sack of flour.
She set off awkwardly down the infirmary, out of the door,
through the porch, down the hill toward the trees. With every jolting
step I felt my terror rise. My blood
thundered in my ears like dreadful music. Still my useless limbs flopped like
meat.
'Well, you nosy bitch, you can
join precious Wendy in hell,' said that disjointed voice. 'I bashed
her smug face in and left her in the woods.
She deserved it. Trying to be top of the tree.'
She tore a breath and stopped.
My fingers bashed and scraped the stony ground as she
turned. She dropped me. My head cracked
on a rock. I felt stickiness trickle down my neck and pool in
my collar.
'They all deserved it.
I'm the special one, not them. I should be Head Girl! I should have
the sports prize! I couldn’t believe my luck when I found out what Michael
could do. Finally a chance to get my own
back, and make sure there would be no more music scholarship and no more
teacher’s bloody pet. I didn’t count on you going all Nancy Drew on me.
Pathetic,’ she spat. She crouched down and shoved her face into mine.
‘No infirmary for you!’ she whispered
gleefully. ‘No one will find you.’ I saw the whites of her eyes, felt the moist
hiss of her breath on my cheek.
‘I'm going
to chuck you in the Lonely. You love it so much, it seems kind
of fitting. It's not like anyone will miss you. Not even
your new best friend. Especially not
when I tell them I saw you breaking Hannah’s fingers with my own two eyes.'
A distant voice sounded in the
evening air. I felt her body twang like a cornered rat’s. The wheeling stars above suddenly went
dark as she covered my face with sodden leaves. They clung to my skin like
unwanted kisses.
'She ran away!' I heard her
yell. 'Didn't want to face the bloody music I expect!' That hissing voice had
gone; she sounded normal again. Impossibly normal. I heard her footsteps
squelching away from me.
I lay there, awake and
unmoving. I was glued, helpless, to the clammy ground, my
weight pressing agonisingly on my bent leg. Creatures rustled
in the loam beneath me. I couldn't move. I couldn't speak.
Slowly, the ants and
grubs and beetles made their way into my clothes and then my ears; my mouth; my nose.
After a lifetime, I heard you. You came searching. You called my name again and
again. You were so close - but try as I might,
I couldn't call out. And all the while, I felt the sick thudding
of my rabbit heart.
I was conscious when
she crept out again at the gloaming. Conscious as
she silently filled my pockets
with stones. Conscious as cold water
flooded round my unresisting limbs and into every
crevice of my lungs; as the lake eased into the gaps
between my cells; as it washed away my body to bones until I was
the fish and the weeds and the water. I felt every cell, every molecule,
every atom of myself slowly becoming one with
The Lonely.
That is, until tonight.
The night you came back.
* *
*
You sit at the edge. You
speak to me.
'You never ran away, did you?'
asks that old familiar voice, deepened slightly by the years. 'I know it
wasn't you that did those things to Hannah and Wendy and Miss Travis. You
never could stomach violence.'
I want to reach out to
you, to say yes. To scream it. All I can do is brush the
shore at your feet, silently.
'I'm a police detective
now, you know. Homicide.' Of course you are. What else
would you be?
'It was easy for them to blame
the scholarship girl with no parents. Though they still had to shut the
school. It's a hostel now. I'm here with my daughter. I named her
for you.'
I swell
and break. I long to thank you for not
forgetting me – but I can't. I'm just water with the memory of a
long-dead girl.
'Remember that day we swam
here? And you threw your head back and announced you were swimming the channel
one day? That was the last day we had. And I didn't see it
coming.'
A glint of light slides down
your shadowed face. You look out at the island, then
at me. You turn to walk away.
Suddenly, you pause and cock
your head. I feel like you’ve seen me at last, dancing in flashes of moonlight.
A small half smile crooks the corner of your once familiar mouth. You
strip down to your underwear. You wade in.
You wade right in.
As you slide under my deep and
silent waters, your long warm body blossoms. You always have been a beautiful
swimmer. I rush darkly into your mouth like a lover’s eager kiss; I
slip between your fingers; and with the last of myself, I whisper through
the water in your ear -
'Meredith.'
THE
END