I woke up in a room I didn't recognise. It was kind of dim, but not really dark. I always thought kipnap victims were kept in dark rooms, tied to chairs with blindfolds over their eyes. I was in a pretty comfortable room, probably a hotel room, in fact. I opened the curtain but the windows were frosted and didn't seem to open. I walked over to the door and put my ear against it, listening out for my kidnappers, or anyone else. I heard nothing, so I tried the door. Predictably, it was locked. I went round the room looking for other exits or windows. There were none.
I sat down on the bed, trying to think what my next move would be. Everything I'd done since leaving London had been on a whim and with no particular plans in mind. I needed a plan. I racked my brains trying to think of the best way to proceed. There must be some way of getting away from them. I assumed my captors were Janet and Elena, or the unknown being they were supposed to take me to. If I knew for sure who it was, then maybe I could think better. At least I knew Janet and Elena a little.
Ok, best thing would probably be to assume it was them to had me, and try to formulate a plan with that in mind. If it turned out to be someone else, I could rethink, but it seemed most likely it was them. I'd seen them near and I knew they were after me. The police, on the other hand, seemed not to be. Maybe I wasn't even a suspect in Kelly's murder case. Maybe they hadn't even realised she'd been poisoned.
I tried to get comfortable on the bed with little success. The pillows were lumpy and the thin duvet didn't hold off the cold air. There was nothing to read and nothing to do. My planning wasn't going well enough to keep me entertained and my mind kept wandering to imaginings of what was going to happen to me when that door opened. The idea that I would be able to overpower Elena was ridiculous. I figured the same was true of Janet or any other supernatural being who might be holding me hostage. I needed to know what they wanted. I needed more information. The only thing to do was to wait.
***
And so, I waited, for what seemed like hours. I began to feel thirsty, and eventually this feeling became overwhelming, so I drank directly from the tap in the bathroom. After a while longer, I began to feel hungry, so I drank some more, hoping this would satisfy that feeling too. I felt bloated, but my hunger was not satisfied. I curled up on the bed and tried to sleep, but sleep would not come. I was soon bored and frustrated. I knew I should be frightened, but I wasn't. I'd been so ready for it all to be over, and now it wasn't.
[Author's note: for continuity, for the next bit of the story, you need to think back to when they were leaving Ogmore and pretend that the conversation about the pendant went a little differently to how it did. Elena did not pick up the pendant and ask Fi about it; Fi asked Elena about it. This is what happens when you write a story without really thinking about what's going to happen next, but it will be fixed in the editing stage.]
The door opened and Elena walked in. I launched myself off the bed and towards her.
“What the fuck, Elena? You were supposed to be taking me to turn myself in, and now you won't even let me do that. I just want all this to be over. If that means years in prison, I'll deal with that, but I can't deal with all this shit anymore.”
“Fi, shut the fuck up. You're in a lot of danger.”
“Yeah, I worked that out, just turns out that you're the danger, not the protector. Yeah, you'll help me run from the nasty, evil Janet, then turns out you're both trying to do the same thing. So, who are you to deliver me to, Elena? Where is he? Fucking tell me!”
“He's on his way, and he's not happy, so you need to listen to me, and do what I say. There's no need for this to be a bad experience; but you need to co-operate.”
“Who is he and what does he want? Is he like you?”
“Yeah, he's kind of like me, but he's higher up. He's not nice and he won't take any shit from you.”
“Higher up? Like... God or something.”
“Or something.”
“What does he want?”
“He wants the pendant?”
I looked at her for a moment, confused, “The pendant? Is this what all this has been about?”
“Yes and no. Not entirely, but it's part of it. I didn't even know where the pendant was until you showed it to me. It had been lost to my people for many years.”
“But it was just on display in that shop.”
“Not to us.”
“The woman said it belonged to you.”
“That's not entirely true. We're its... keepers.”
“Keepers? But you lost it?”
“Yes. We lost it. Janet and I lost it and we've been left as mortals ever since being given menial tasks as punishment.”
“And that's what I am? A menial task?”
“That's what persuading you to go back to London was, yeah. Menial. Think about it, Fiona, we are the world's protectors. The guardian angels, is how you described us, I think. Do you really think that getting you to go back to London and face up to what you did is all that important in the grand scheme of things? Seriously?”
“Guess not.”
“The pendant, however, is very, very important.”
“Why?”
She looked down, “You wouldn't understand.”
“Wouldn't I? Is it because it gives me special powers? Is it because, when I'm wearing it, I become invisible?”
She looked at me in disbelief for a moment, “For god's sake, Fi, when will you understand, it's not about you?”
“I know... I just... I just meant that I know what it can do.”
“You don't know the half of it, Fi.”
“Look, I don't care about the sodding pendant, Elena. You want it, you can have it. Will you let me go if I give it to you?”
“It's not that simple.”
“Why not?”
“We need to know how it was that you could take it in the first place.”
“The woman in the shop gave it to me.”
“It wasn't hers to give,” she sounded angry.
“No, but you said it was ok.”
“What was I supposed to say? 'Hey look, you've got that thing that's going to turn my life from the shit I've been living in for centuries back to the bliss I used to live in, but I can't see it and I can't take it from you.' The only way to know where it was was to let you keep it and to keep you with me. I couldn't take you back to London and I couldn't let you out of my sight. I needed you to believe you were better off with me until I found a way to get the pendant from you. You don't understand, Fi. I've been living in hell for centuries and you can get me back. I need you.”
“Wait? You can't see it?”
“No.”
“Can other people?”
“Some.”
“And they can't see me when I put it on?”
“No.”
“Can you?”
“No, but I can sense you. Sight is such a minor thing to me. I have other senses. It's hard to explain. It's like trying to explain colours to someone who's been blind since birth.”
“But you can't sense the pendant?”
“No, unfortunately not.”
I reached in my pockets with each hand and pulled the pendant out, holding both hands up in front of me at the same height.
“Which hand?”
“I don't fucking know, Fi. Stop pissing about. He'll be here soon, and you need to answer all his questions honestly and completely, or he'll hurt you.”
“Let me go and I'll give you the pendant.”
“Don't you fucking get it?” she leaned close in to my face and whispered threateningly, “It's not yours to give.”
I stepped back warily and didn't speak for a while. Elena and I seemed to be having a staring match, neither of us moving, or even blinking for a moment, then I looked down and muttered, “Whose is it?”
“It's his,” she said, gesturing at the door.
“Who is he?”
“He's... my boss, I guess. It's complicated.”
“Everything's complicated!”
“Yes.”
“Yes? That's all you have to say?”
“What do you want me to say, Fi? Everything is complicated.”
“I want you to say something that makes sense of all of this; something that makes it all seem ok. I want you to tell me something comforting.”
Elena looked down, “Comforting isn't really my style, hon.”
“Can I have some food?”
“Jesus Christ, Fi, is that all you think about?”
“No, it's a lot of what I think about when I'm stressed, though,” I said, and Elena half-smiled at me.
“I'll see what I can do. Pizza? A large vegetarian for a large vegetarian, right?”
I smiled, feeling the tension lift from the air, “You calling me fat?”
“Yep.”
“Bitch.”
“Yep,” she grinned, “But you already knew that, right?”
“Thanks, Elena.”
“No worries.”
“And maybe a beer or two?”
“I'll see what I can do. Loosen your tongue, maybe.”
“Maybe.”
She left the room and I lay back on the bed awaiting food.
Saturday, 28 August 2010
Monday, 23 August 2010
Installment 24
I woke with a start. The car wasn't moving and the driver had gone. I sat up on the back seat, squinting and my eyes re-adjusted to the light. After a minute or so, I pushed the passenger seat forward and tried the door handle. The door was locked this time. I had a quick look around for the key, but didn't really expect to find anything; and, indeed, didn't find anything. Anyway, I didn't really want to steal the car. Murder, manslaugher, accidental killing, whatever – that's enough criminal/potentially criminal activity for now.
I pulled the door lock up, and the car alarm sounded. I quickly grabbed the handle and jumped out of the car. Someone was walking toward me fairly quickly. I thought about running, but she just carried on past me muttering something about “bloody car alarms” and how they go off for no reason. Dodgy technology working in my favour.
***
I walked down the street, unsure of where I was or where to go. I knew I needed a police station, but I didn't know what town I was in, let alone where the police station was. I wished I had my phone. I wished that I hadn't been so rash in destroying my sim card. I could pick up a new sim, I supposed, but I wasn't sure whether it had any power, and I didn't think I'd brought a charger. I also wasn't entirely sure how having a phone would help me know where to go.
I continued to walk down the street, feigning nonchalance, but, in reality, I was scared every time I saw anyone who was vaguely the same size or build as Janet or Elena. I knew it was damned near impossible that they were here, but something deep in my stomach told me that they knew where I was, even though I didn't.
I walked down what looked like the main shopping street. I glanced in the shop windows, pretending that this was the purpose of my being there. There was a shoe shop full of shoes that looked more like torture devices to me, with the high heels that would quickly lead to sore feet and sore back. Kelly used to love looking at those sorts of shoes. She thought that she liked wearing them, but I knew better. She seemed to forget immediately that she'd taken them off that she'd spent the whole evening complaining about the pain they caused her and leaning on me to take the weight off her feet a little. The number of times I'd tried to persuade her to wear less painful shoes. I wondered if anyone actually enjoyed wearing those shoes. People probably just forgot how much they hated them once they'd taken them off.
Next to that, there was a camping shop. I loved camping shops, with all the random gadgets. Something to solve every problem you never realised you had, and probably never would, but you just knew that if you didn't get that gadget, you almost certainly would. From when I was only about 8 years old, I wanted a pen knife. For my 12th birthday, I got one. It was black with a horse etched into the metal casing. I used to carry it with me everywhere, although it was so blunt it was next to useless. Later, I longed after the big swiss army knives, with their 20 different functions, or the Leathermans with all that and pliers too. I stared at the display now with the same longing I'd had when I was 15.
I was brought out of my daydream by a glimpse in my peripheral vision of my so-called guardians. I turned to check, and sure enough, they were walking slowly down the street. How the hell did they find me? Maybe the pendant did draw them to me, but, no, that felt wrong. I turned away from them and walked quickly back down the high street. The didn't call out or run after me; perhaps they hadn't seen me. Perhaps they didn't even know I was here. That seemed too much of a coincidence, though.
I needed to find the police station before they found me. I turned left onto a busy street and ducked into a newsagents. I picked up a chocolate bar and took it to the counter.
“50p please, love.”
I handed over the money, then said, “Could you tell me where the police station is, please?”
The woman behind the counter looked at me slightly suspiciously, but after a moment or two replied, “Turn left out of the shop, then up to the top of the road, right down Maple Street and it's on your left after about a hundred yards.”
She seemed to want to ask more, but I cut her off with a word of thanks, then walked swiftly out of the shop, following her directions to the police station. There was an almost empty pub on my right that caught my eye. Maybe one last drink before I go down. No cider in prison. I wandered in. There was hardly anyone in there. I went to the bar and ordered a bottle of nice cider. Normally I'd just drink whatever was on draught, but as it was my last, I thought I may as well have something nice.
The bottle was tall and thin and I declined the offer of a glass to go with it. I never understood why someone would take a glass with ice when you can drink it from a chilled bottle that will stay cold much longer than in a glass and doesn't mean you're drinking watered down cider.
I sat sipping the cider, breathing in the atmosphere. I loved empty pubs. I never understood why people chose to frequent busy pubs for the “atmosphere”. Nowhere to sit; can't hear your friends; no space to dance even. The idea of spending the evening stood nodding at your friends doesn't strike me as a sociable evening.
The cider went down surprisingly quickly. It tasted truly lovely compared to the mass-produced rubbish I was used to. I went to the bar and ordered another one. I decided to savour this one and not just knock it back, but it too went down all too quickly. I'd barely been in the pub 40 minutes and gotten through 2 bottles. The more I drank, of course, the more I wanted. Pretty soon, I'd gotten through 5 or 6 bottles and finally decided that I needed to leave. I thanked the barman and left.
The police station was not far from the pub. There seemed to be a lot of commotion inside. The receptionist was on the phone and waved his hand at a set of chairs. I sat down. Once he was finished on the phone, I stood up, as did 3 other people. I sat down again, realising I was quite far back. Before anyone could speak to the receptionist, the phone rang again and he waved his hand to dismiss them again.
When he came off the phone this time, he stood up and said loudly, “OK, people, there's been a huge incident that we're dealing with here, so if you're here for anything that can wait, you might be better coming back later, or phoning in to the station.”
Two people sat on the opposite side of the room from me conferred for a few seconds, then got up and walked out. Another person who had been sat next to me followed them after two or three more minutes. That left me and one other person.
After about 20 minutes, the phone stopped for long enough for the other person to try to report the theft of their camera. The receptionist seemed annoyed and gave him a phone number to call. I stood up, but the phone rang again, so I sat down once more. I felt my eyelids growing heavy from the cider. I kept pinching my arm to keep myself awake. After about another half hour, I was beckoned up.
“Hello, madam, how can I help you?” the receptionist asked wearily.
“My name is Fiona Barnes and I am wanted for the murder of Kelly Wheatley.”
He looked at me with disbelief bordering on contempt, “Madam, are you wasting my time?”
“No, I... I'm turning myself in. I... well, I guess it might not be murder. I mean, it was an accident if I'm honest, but I've not been about to explain, so I figured that they wouldn't realise...” my voice trailed off and I realised that I sounded like a child trying to justify eating sweets between meals.
He sighed, typed something into his computer, then looked back at me, “I have no record of either name. I do, however, have a station full of students who decided it was a good idea to attack the Dean of the Science Faculty in the hope that it would stop the university doing animal testing which, as far as I can tell, they don't. I also have a faceful of what smells like cider breath coming from your mouth. Can I suggest, therefore, that you go away, sober up and come back when you make more sense before I fine you for wasting police time?”
“I...”
The phone rang, he picked it up and gestured angrily at the door. I waited a minute or so, and he turned away, continuing his phone conversation.
After a little while, I walked out of the police station. I decided that it would probably be better to come back when there was someone else on reception. As I stepped out of the door, I felt a pull around my neck and a bag over my head. I struggled and tried to tug at the thing which was choking me, but before too long, I passed out.
I pulled the door lock up, and the car alarm sounded. I quickly grabbed the handle and jumped out of the car. Someone was walking toward me fairly quickly. I thought about running, but she just carried on past me muttering something about “bloody car alarms” and how they go off for no reason. Dodgy technology working in my favour.
***
I walked down the street, unsure of where I was or where to go. I knew I needed a police station, but I didn't know what town I was in, let alone where the police station was. I wished I had my phone. I wished that I hadn't been so rash in destroying my sim card. I could pick up a new sim, I supposed, but I wasn't sure whether it had any power, and I didn't think I'd brought a charger. I also wasn't entirely sure how having a phone would help me know where to go.
I continued to walk down the street, feigning nonchalance, but, in reality, I was scared every time I saw anyone who was vaguely the same size or build as Janet or Elena. I knew it was damned near impossible that they were here, but something deep in my stomach told me that they knew where I was, even though I didn't.
I walked down what looked like the main shopping street. I glanced in the shop windows, pretending that this was the purpose of my being there. There was a shoe shop full of shoes that looked more like torture devices to me, with the high heels that would quickly lead to sore feet and sore back. Kelly used to love looking at those sorts of shoes. She thought that she liked wearing them, but I knew better. She seemed to forget immediately that she'd taken them off that she'd spent the whole evening complaining about the pain they caused her and leaning on me to take the weight off her feet a little. The number of times I'd tried to persuade her to wear less painful shoes. I wondered if anyone actually enjoyed wearing those shoes. People probably just forgot how much they hated them once they'd taken them off.
Next to that, there was a camping shop. I loved camping shops, with all the random gadgets. Something to solve every problem you never realised you had, and probably never would, but you just knew that if you didn't get that gadget, you almost certainly would. From when I was only about 8 years old, I wanted a pen knife. For my 12th birthday, I got one. It was black with a horse etched into the metal casing. I used to carry it with me everywhere, although it was so blunt it was next to useless. Later, I longed after the big swiss army knives, with their 20 different functions, or the Leathermans with all that and pliers too. I stared at the display now with the same longing I'd had when I was 15.
I was brought out of my daydream by a glimpse in my peripheral vision of my so-called guardians. I turned to check, and sure enough, they were walking slowly down the street. How the hell did they find me? Maybe the pendant did draw them to me, but, no, that felt wrong. I turned away from them and walked quickly back down the high street. The didn't call out or run after me; perhaps they hadn't seen me. Perhaps they didn't even know I was here. That seemed too much of a coincidence, though.
I needed to find the police station before they found me. I turned left onto a busy street and ducked into a newsagents. I picked up a chocolate bar and took it to the counter.
“50p please, love.”
I handed over the money, then said, “Could you tell me where the police station is, please?”
The woman behind the counter looked at me slightly suspiciously, but after a moment or two replied, “Turn left out of the shop, then up to the top of the road, right down Maple Street and it's on your left after about a hundred yards.”
She seemed to want to ask more, but I cut her off with a word of thanks, then walked swiftly out of the shop, following her directions to the police station. There was an almost empty pub on my right that caught my eye. Maybe one last drink before I go down. No cider in prison. I wandered in. There was hardly anyone in there. I went to the bar and ordered a bottle of nice cider. Normally I'd just drink whatever was on draught, but as it was my last, I thought I may as well have something nice.
The bottle was tall and thin and I declined the offer of a glass to go with it. I never understood why someone would take a glass with ice when you can drink it from a chilled bottle that will stay cold much longer than in a glass and doesn't mean you're drinking watered down cider.
I sat sipping the cider, breathing in the atmosphere. I loved empty pubs. I never understood why people chose to frequent busy pubs for the “atmosphere”. Nowhere to sit; can't hear your friends; no space to dance even. The idea of spending the evening stood nodding at your friends doesn't strike me as a sociable evening.
The cider went down surprisingly quickly. It tasted truly lovely compared to the mass-produced rubbish I was used to. I went to the bar and ordered another one. I decided to savour this one and not just knock it back, but it too went down all too quickly. I'd barely been in the pub 40 minutes and gotten through 2 bottles. The more I drank, of course, the more I wanted. Pretty soon, I'd gotten through 5 or 6 bottles and finally decided that I needed to leave. I thanked the barman and left.
The police station was not far from the pub. There seemed to be a lot of commotion inside. The receptionist was on the phone and waved his hand at a set of chairs. I sat down. Once he was finished on the phone, I stood up, as did 3 other people. I sat down again, realising I was quite far back. Before anyone could speak to the receptionist, the phone rang again and he waved his hand to dismiss them again.
When he came off the phone this time, he stood up and said loudly, “OK, people, there's been a huge incident that we're dealing with here, so if you're here for anything that can wait, you might be better coming back later, or phoning in to the station.”
Two people sat on the opposite side of the room from me conferred for a few seconds, then got up and walked out. Another person who had been sat next to me followed them after two or three more minutes. That left me and one other person.
After about 20 minutes, the phone stopped for long enough for the other person to try to report the theft of their camera. The receptionist seemed annoyed and gave him a phone number to call. I stood up, but the phone rang again, so I sat down once more. I felt my eyelids growing heavy from the cider. I kept pinching my arm to keep myself awake. After about another half hour, I was beckoned up.
“Hello, madam, how can I help you?” the receptionist asked wearily.
“My name is Fiona Barnes and I am wanted for the murder of Kelly Wheatley.”
He looked at me with disbelief bordering on contempt, “Madam, are you wasting my time?”
“No, I... I'm turning myself in. I... well, I guess it might not be murder. I mean, it was an accident if I'm honest, but I've not been about to explain, so I figured that they wouldn't realise...” my voice trailed off and I realised that I sounded like a child trying to justify eating sweets between meals.
He sighed, typed something into his computer, then looked back at me, “I have no record of either name. I do, however, have a station full of students who decided it was a good idea to attack the Dean of the Science Faculty in the hope that it would stop the university doing animal testing which, as far as I can tell, they don't. I also have a faceful of what smells like cider breath coming from your mouth. Can I suggest, therefore, that you go away, sober up and come back when you make more sense before I fine you for wasting police time?”
“I...”
The phone rang, he picked it up and gestured angrily at the door. I waited a minute or so, and he turned away, continuing his phone conversation.
After a little while, I walked out of the police station. I decided that it would probably be better to come back when there was someone else on reception. As I stepped out of the door, I felt a pull around my neck and a bag over my head. I struggled and tried to tug at the thing which was choking me, but before too long, I passed out.
Wednesday, 18 August 2010
Installment 23
After what must have been an hour or so, the cramp in my lower back got the better of me and I had to sit up a little. I tried to stay in the footwell, but it was awkward and uncomfortable, so I sat on the back seat, and leant down in the hope that, even if the pendant wouldn't hide me from my accidental chauffeur, the headrest would. We were on the motorway, and I saw a sign that we were heading toward Manchester. Manchester would be a decent enough place to hide out. I knew a few people there. Maybe they'd put me up. Of course, they were Kelly's friends too, so maybe they'd be best avoided too. I decided I'd just wait and see where I ended up. Anywhere further from Janet and Elena was better.
The pendant felt heavy around my neck. I began to wonder how it was linked to Janet and Elena. It clearly was in some way. The woman in the shop wouldn't let me take it without their say so. Maybe it protected me from them. Maybe it would lead them to me. It was powerful, certainly, and I felt like I needed to know more about it. I just didn't know how I would go about finding that out.
The car shook a little as it drove over a bit of bumpy road. I shrunk lower into my seat. Logically, there was no reason why the driver was more likely to look behind him because of a bumpy road, but it just felt the right thing to do. I was still uncertain of the pendant's ability to hide me. I should test it, I thought, but I didn't really think that the motorway was the right place to do so. On the other hand, it's not as if I could be thrown out of the car. Perhaps, if he saw me, I could pretend that I was hijacking his car and make him drive me to... to where? Somewhere anyway.
Cautiously, I pulled the pendant over my head and put it back in my pocket. I remained low in my seat and hoped he wouldn't look round. When we stopped, I though, I'd put it back on, then get out of the car, and try talking to him to see if he could see me. And if he saw me before then, he'd have to stop the car before he could do anything about it, so I'd jump out and run away.
***
He left the motorway several junctions north of Manchester. I looked out of the window and saw signs for Blackpool and Preston. I was fairly sure I could get lost in Blackpool quite easily, but was that what I wanted? To get lost? Perhaps the better move would be to make my way to a police station and turn myself in. It would all be over soon if I did that. Prison would be tough, but at least there'd be an element of certainty about my future, which was greatly missing from my life at the moment.
I felt calmer, having decided what to do. Turn myself in. Plead insanity or that I was driven to it, or some such bullshit. Maybe even the truth, that it was an accident. I could skip over the part where the accident was who I poisoned, not that I poisoned. No, that's not true. I'd thought about killing her; I had decided not to. It's not the same as murder. Having a slightly sick mind and bad temper is not nice, but it's not illegal either. Running was a bad idea. I should have stayed. I should have seen it through properly.
***
And so, my future seemed more certain. Not perfect, but not running from two people who weren't even really people and had both lied to me about what was happening and were supposed to deliver me to god-knows-who for god-knows-what reason. Prison was preferable, and it was surely unlikely that I'd get a huge sentence anyway. I could cope with a couple of years, couldn't I? Maybe I'd join the prison gym and get really fit or study while I was inside and come out with a whole new set of opportunities. The more I thought about it, the more appealing it seemed. Hey diddly dee, it's prison life for me.
The journey stopped being along such straight roads and started twisting and turning more. Conscious that the driver would be looking in the mirrors more, I slid back down into the footwell, but did not cover myself over with the newspapers this time. Maybe he'd see me when he got out of the car; I didn't care anymore. My mind was clear and I felt strangely light and free.
My eyes grew heavy after a short while and I realised that I had barely slept in the last few days. I half-heartedly willed myself to stay awake, but knew that it wasn't what I really wanted. I let myself drift off, with the thought in my head that I would re-awaken before we stopped anywhere.
***
I was back in London, in our flat, watching Kelly sleeping. Her face looked so peaceful. I leant down and kissed her cheek, then crawled into the bed beside her, my arm around her, my hand resting lightly on her belly. I breathed in the scent of her hair and felt completely content.
I heard a noise and sat up to see that the side of our bedroom had been cut away and filled with theatre style seats. They were mostly empty, but about 10 people sat watching. Kelly sat up too, then took my hand, and guided me to stand in front of the bed. She took a bow, then Janet, Elena, Tim and Errol walked into the room from the sides of what was now a stage. Janet took hold of my other hand, with Elena taking Kelly's, and Tim and Errol standing on either end. Both my hands were pulled up above my head, then down again as we all took a bow for the steadily growing audience. By now, there were close to a hundred people watching and applauding.
The pendant felt heavy around my neck. I began to wonder how it was linked to Janet and Elena. It clearly was in some way. The woman in the shop wouldn't let me take it without their say so. Maybe it protected me from them. Maybe it would lead them to me. It was powerful, certainly, and I felt like I needed to know more about it. I just didn't know how I would go about finding that out.
The car shook a little as it drove over a bit of bumpy road. I shrunk lower into my seat. Logically, there was no reason why the driver was more likely to look behind him because of a bumpy road, but it just felt the right thing to do. I was still uncertain of the pendant's ability to hide me. I should test it, I thought, but I didn't really think that the motorway was the right place to do so. On the other hand, it's not as if I could be thrown out of the car. Perhaps, if he saw me, I could pretend that I was hijacking his car and make him drive me to... to where? Somewhere anyway.
Cautiously, I pulled the pendant over my head and put it back in my pocket. I remained low in my seat and hoped he wouldn't look round. When we stopped, I though, I'd put it back on, then get out of the car, and try talking to him to see if he could see me. And if he saw me before then, he'd have to stop the car before he could do anything about it, so I'd jump out and run away.
***
He left the motorway several junctions north of Manchester. I looked out of the window and saw signs for Blackpool and Preston. I was fairly sure I could get lost in Blackpool quite easily, but was that what I wanted? To get lost? Perhaps the better move would be to make my way to a police station and turn myself in. It would all be over soon if I did that. Prison would be tough, but at least there'd be an element of certainty about my future, which was greatly missing from my life at the moment.
I felt calmer, having decided what to do. Turn myself in. Plead insanity or that I was driven to it, or some such bullshit. Maybe even the truth, that it was an accident. I could skip over the part where the accident was who I poisoned, not that I poisoned. No, that's not true. I'd thought about killing her; I had decided not to. It's not the same as murder. Having a slightly sick mind and bad temper is not nice, but it's not illegal either. Running was a bad idea. I should have stayed. I should have seen it through properly.
***
And so, my future seemed more certain. Not perfect, but not running from two people who weren't even really people and had both lied to me about what was happening and were supposed to deliver me to god-knows-who for god-knows-what reason. Prison was preferable, and it was surely unlikely that I'd get a huge sentence anyway. I could cope with a couple of years, couldn't I? Maybe I'd join the prison gym and get really fit or study while I was inside and come out with a whole new set of opportunities. The more I thought about it, the more appealing it seemed. Hey diddly dee, it's prison life for me.
The journey stopped being along such straight roads and started twisting and turning more. Conscious that the driver would be looking in the mirrors more, I slid back down into the footwell, but did not cover myself over with the newspapers this time. Maybe he'd see me when he got out of the car; I didn't care anymore. My mind was clear and I felt strangely light and free.
My eyes grew heavy after a short while and I realised that I had barely slept in the last few days. I half-heartedly willed myself to stay awake, but knew that it wasn't what I really wanted. I let myself drift off, with the thought in my head that I would re-awaken before we stopped anywhere.
***
I was back in London, in our flat, watching Kelly sleeping. Her face looked so peaceful. I leant down and kissed her cheek, then crawled into the bed beside her, my arm around her, my hand resting lightly on her belly. I breathed in the scent of her hair and felt completely content.
I heard a noise and sat up to see that the side of our bedroom had been cut away and filled with theatre style seats. They were mostly empty, but about 10 people sat watching. Kelly sat up too, then took my hand, and guided me to stand in front of the bed. She took a bow, then Janet, Elena, Tim and Errol walked into the room from the sides of what was now a stage. Janet took hold of my other hand, with Elena taking Kelly's, and Tim and Errol standing on either end. Both my hands were pulled up above my head, then down again as we all took a bow for the steadily growing audience. By now, there were close to a hundred people watching and applauding.
Sunday, 8 August 2010
Installment 22
I was on the motorway with no real thought to where I was going. I took a few deep breaths, realising that my breathing had gone pretty irregular.
"Ok, Fi," I said aloud, "Where now?"
I was still considering that, when I noticed a passenger in one of the passing cars staring at me. I tried to keep my eyes and mind on the road, but kept having to glance over. Soon enough, the car had gone by and I couldn't see him anymore. I gasped with the realisation, he couldn't see me.
I grabbed the pendant from around my neck and put it back in my pocket. There's no point being invisible if it was going to bring more attention to me. An empty car bombing down the motorway was not inconspicuous. I needed to be cleverer than that. I needed a plan.
I was on the motorway with no real thought to where I was going. I took a few deep breaths, realising that my breathing had gone pretty irregular.
"Ok, Fi," I said aloud, "Where now?"
I was still considering that, when I noticed a passenger in one of the passing cars staring at me. I tried to keep my eyes and mind on the road, but kept having to glance over. Soon enough, the car had gone by and I couldn't see him anymore. I gasped with the realisation, he couldn't see me.
I grabbed the pendant from around my neck and put it back in my pocket. There's no point being invisible if it was going to bring more attention to me. An empty car bombing down the motorway was not inconspicuous. I needed to be cleverer than that. I needed a plan.
***
Ok, so they were taking me to someone in Scotland, presumably, so I should head back to England. But then, I guess they'd expect that, so maybe I should head further north. Shit! Either I do the most obvious thing, or I do the next most obvious thing, and they knew the car I was driving. They probably had some kind of GPS tracker on it.
I took the sliproad off the motorway into the service station and got out of the car. I put the pendant on, and started trying the doors of cars. I knew it was unlikely that anyone would leave their car unlocked - that only happens in films – but I also felt that, when wearing the pendant, I could do pretty much anything.
Sure enough, the fifth car opened. I got in and felt around under the steering wheel for wires to put together to hotwire the car. There weren't any. I felt immediately let down, not only by the pendant, but by hundreds of cop shows and films that had led me to believe hotwiring a car was easy. If Keanu Reeves could manage it, surely, I could!
I pulled down the sun-visor to check for keys, the other foolproof way of stealing a car. There were none. I wasn't as surprised. I had always suspected that was an American quirk. I opened the glove compartment, to no avail, then had a better idea.
I climbed in the back of the car. The back seat footwells were full of newspapers and discarded coffee cups. While I was fairly certain the pendant would protect me from the driver's view, I didn't want to push my luck, so I lay down and pulled newspapers over me. Now I just had to hope that the driver wasn't headed straight back to where I'd left Elena and Janet, wherever that was.
I'm not sure how long it was until someone came back to the car. They started the engine and set off. The stereo was blaring out ABBA's greatest hits or something and the driver was singing along loudly. It was a little difficult not to giggle when he tried to hit the high notes, but I managed to stay quiet. Once we were on the motorway, I sat up a little, still hiding behind the passenger seat, to look at the signs and get an idea of where we were heading. Sure enough, we were headed south again, into England.
"Ok, Fi," I said aloud, "Where now?"
I was still considering that, when I noticed a passenger in one of the passing cars staring at me. I tried to keep my eyes and mind on the road, but kept having to glance over. Soon enough, the car had gone by and I couldn't see him anymore. I gasped with the realisation, he couldn't see me.
I grabbed the pendant from around my neck and put it back in my pocket. There's no point being invisible if it was going to bring more attention to me. An empty car bombing down the motorway was not inconspicuous. I needed to be cleverer than that. I needed a plan.
I was on the motorway with no real thought to where I was going. I took a few deep breaths, realising that my breathing had gone pretty irregular.
"Ok, Fi," I said aloud, "Where now?"
I was still considering that, when I noticed a passenger in one of the passing cars staring at me. I tried to keep my eyes and mind on the road, but kept having to glance over. Soon enough, the car had gone by and I couldn't see him anymore. I gasped with the realisation, he couldn't see me.
I grabbed the pendant from around my neck and put it back in my pocket. There's no point being invisible if it was going to bring more attention to me. An empty car bombing down the motorway was not inconspicuous. I needed to be cleverer than that. I needed a plan.
***
Ok, so they were taking me to someone in Scotland, presumably, so I should head back to England. But then, I guess they'd expect that, so maybe I should head further north. Shit! Either I do the most obvious thing, or I do the next most obvious thing, and they knew the car I was driving. They probably had some kind of GPS tracker on it.
I took the sliproad off the motorway into the service station and got out of the car. I put the pendant on, and started trying the doors of cars. I knew it was unlikely that anyone would leave their car unlocked - that only happens in films – but I also felt that, when wearing the pendant, I could do pretty much anything.
Sure enough, the fifth car opened. I got in and felt around under the steering wheel for wires to put together to hotwire the car. There weren't any. I felt immediately let down, not only by the pendant, but by hundreds of cop shows and films that had led me to believe hotwiring a car was easy. If Keanu Reeves could manage it, surely, I could!
I pulled down the sun-visor to check for keys, the other foolproof way of stealing a car. There were none. I wasn't as surprised. I had always suspected that was an American quirk. I opened the glove compartment, to no avail, then had a better idea.
I climbed in the back of the car. The back seat footwells were full of newspapers and discarded coffee cups. While I was fairly certain the pendant would protect me from the driver's view, I didn't want to push my luck, so I lay down and pulled newspapers over me. Now I just had to hope that the driver wasn't headed straight back to where I'd left Elena and Janet, wherever that was.
I'm not sure how long it was until someone came back to the car. They started the engine and set off. The stereo was blaring out ABBA's greatest hits or something and the driver was singing along loudly. It was a little difficult not to giggle when he tried to hit the high notes, but I managed to stay quiet. Once we were on the motorway, I sat up a little, still hiding behind the passenger seat, to look at the signs and get an idea of where we were heading. Sure enough, we were headed south again, into England.
Monday, 2 August 2010
Installment 21
I sit in silence for a short while. I was kind of shocked by Elena's anger at my questions, but I still wanted to know. I figured that probably wasn't going to happen, though.
“I'm hungry,” I tell her.
“Well, you should have eaten earlier.”
“You mean yesterday.”
“What?”
“It wasn't earlier, it was yesterday, when we stopped at the service station and you made me get something to eat, which I've eaten and the drink, which I drank. Unfortunately, I'm not a super-secretive immortal assassin, so I need to eat more than once, and I'm hungry,” I stare at her as she grips the steering wheel tighter, “and I need to pee.”
“Fine,” she says, almost shouting, “We'll stop.”
“Thanks,” I say, smugly.
Twenty minutes later, we pull into a roadside pub advertising home cooked food. Elena wanders in and I run to the toilet. When I return, she is sitting at a table with 2 pints of cider in front of her.
“You can't drink. You're driving. You're supposed to be my protector. I don't want a drunk protector.”
“Jesus, Fi, keep up, will you. I'm not fucking mortal. I don't need to sleep. I don't need to eat. I don't get drunk.”
“Well... it looks bad.”
“Fine!” she pushes the pint in front of me, “You have it. Have lots of them. Drink yourself into a coma. You'll be much easier to deal with that way.”
We both stare at the menus, not really reading, just avoiding looking at each other.
“Sorry,” I say after a while, “I'm being a brat, aren't I?”
“A little bit.”
“I just... I guess I don't know how to behave in these situations.”
“Don't piss off your protector is a good start.”
I giggle slightly, but I'm not entirely sure she's joking.
“What do you want?”
“Um... Ploughmans looks good.”
“Ok.”
She goes to the bar and orders the food, also coming back to the table with a glass of lemonade for herself.
“Better?”
I smile, “Much better.”
I take a big gulp of my cider, and haven't quite put the glass down when Elena pushes me to the side and down under the table.
“Hide!” She whispers, desperately, then gets up.
I see her feet move across the bar. I slide round to the other side of the table. I glance out the side and see her talking to Janet. Part of me wants to stay under the table, part of me wants to run away, but a big part of me wants to hear what they're saying. They're standing at the end of the bar, near the door to the kitchen. If I could get into the kitchen, I think I could hear, but I couldn't see how to get in there, and really couldn't think how I'd explain to the kitchen staff what I was doing there.
Just then, I felt a lump in my jacket pocket. I reached in and pulled out the pendant I'd got in Ogmore. I can't quite where it came from, but I knew that it would help. I put the pendant round my neck and took a couple of steps out from under the table. No-one seemed to notice me. I watched Janet, and coughed, ready to leg it out of the pub if she turned round. No-one seemed to notice at all. I walked slowly toward the kitchen, slipping through the swing door without anyone so much as looking my way. There was only one person in the kitchen, chopping salad, presumably for my lunch. She didn't seem to notice me, so I stood to the side of the door, as hidden as I could be, even though I was fairly certain she wouldn't see me if she looked right at me.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Elena seemed to be telling Janet off. I couldn't hear what Janet said, but I didn't dare open the door to hear more.
“Well, we still have to deliver her. You know that, Janet.”
“I know!” Janet spoke a little louder, “I just...” then something I couldn't make out.
“Jesus, Janet! I know she's just a mortal, but that's pretty low.”
“Like what you did wasn't?!”
“Janet, I had her drugged and willing to do whatever. You just had to play. Just as well she put that phone call down to drunken memory, or we'd have been in deep shit, and then to drag her off to Ogmore like that... it's supposed to be a sacred place.”
“It felt sacred, Elena. It felt... human.”
“Janet, what the fuck is so human about manipulating the woman's dreams. She didn't even realise it was you.”
“You manipulate peoples' dreams all the time.”
“I don't make any fucking claim of humanity.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. All the dreams, the day I woke up with her, all her doing... and now I was to be delivered somewhere. I ran past the chef, and out the back door. I saw Janet's car, with the engine still running. I jumped in it, and tore out of the car park.
“I'm hungry,” I tell her.
“Well, you should have eaten earlier.”
“You mean yesterday.”
“What?”
“It wasn't earlier, it was yesterday, when we stopped at the service station and you made me get something to eat, which I've eaten and the drink, which I drank. Unfortunately, I'm not a super-secretive immortal assassin, so I need to eat more than once, and I'm hungry,” I stare at her as she grips the steering wheel tighter, “and I need to pee.”
“Fine,” she says, almost shouting, “We'll stop.”
“Thanks,” I say, smugly.
Twenty minutes later, we pull into a roadside pub advertising home cooked food. Elena wanders in and I run to the toilet. When I return, she is sitting at a table with 2 pints of cider in front of her.
“You can't drink. You're driving. You're supposed to be my protector. I don't want a drunk protector.”
“Jesus, Fi, keep up, will you. I'm not fucking mortal. I don't need to sleep. I don't need to eat. I don't get drunk.”
“Well... it looks bad.”
“Fine!” she pushes the pint in front of me, “You have it. Have lots of them. Drink yourself into a coma. You'll be much easier to deal with that way.”
We both stare at the menus, not really reading, just avoiding looking at each other.
“Sorry,” I say after a while, “I'm being a brat, aren't I?”
“A little bit.”
“I just... I guess I don't know how to behave in these situations.”
“Don't piss off your protector is a good start.”
I giggle slightly, but I'm not entirely sure she's joking.
“What do you want?”
“Um... Ploughmans looks good.”
“Ok.”
She goes to the bar and orders the food, also coming back to the table with a glass of lemonade for herself.
“Better?”
I smile, “Much better.”
I take a big gulp of my cider, and haven't quite put the glass down when Elena pushes me to the side and down under the table.
“Hide!” She whispers, desperately, then gets up.
I see her feet move across the bar. I slide round to the other side of the table. I glance out the side and see her talking to Janet. Part of me wants to stay under the table, part of me wants to run away, but a big part of me wants to hear what they're saying. They're standing at the end of the bar, near the door to the kitchen. If I could get into the kitchen, I think I could hear, but I couldn't see how to get in there, and really couldn't think how I'd explain to the kitchen staff what I was doing there.
Just then, I felt a lump in my jacket pocket. I reached in and pulled out the pendant I'd got in Ogmore. I can't quite where it came from, but I knew that it would help. I put the pendant round my neck and took a couple of steps out from under the table. No-one seemed to notice me. I watched Janet, and coughed, ready to leg it out of the pub if she turned round. No-one seemed to notice at all. I walked slowly toward the kitchen, slipping through the swing door without anyone so much as looking my way. There was only one person in the kitchen, chopping salad, presumably for my lunch. She didn't seem to notice me, so I stood to the side of the door, as hidden as I could be, even though I was fairly certain she wouldn't see me if she looked right at me.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” Elena seemed to be telling Janet off. I couldn't hear what Janet said, but I didn't dare open the door to hear more.
“Well, we still have to deliver her. You know that, Janet.”
“I know!” Janet spoke a little louder, “I just...” then something I couldn't make out.
“Jesus, Janet! I know she's just a mortal, but that's pretty low.”
“Like what you did wasn't?!”
“Janet, I had her drugged and willing to do whatever. You just had to play. Just as well she put that phone call down to drunken memory, or we'd have been in deep shit, and then to drag her off to Ogmore like that... it's supposed to be a sacred place.”
“It felt sacred, Elena. It felt... human.”
“Janet, what the fuck is so human about manipulating the woman's dreams. She didn't even realise it was you.”
“You manipulate peoples' dreams all the time.”
“I don't make any fucking claim of humanity.”
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. All the dreams, the day I woke up with her, all her doing... and now I was to be delivered somewhere. I ran past the chef, and out the back door. I saw Janet's car, with the engine still running. I jumped in it, and tore out of the car park.
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