“Can you help me?” Diane asked
the woman behind the reception desk. “My daughter was brought here by
ambulance! I want to know where she is!”
“What’s her name?”
“Darcy Alexandra Farnham”
“I just needed the first and last
names”
Doug kept his annoyance at this
remark buried. He merely gave her a dirty look.
The woman dealing with Diane
entered the name into the hospital database and clicked on the search symbol.
“Ah yes, here we are. She was
admitted a few hours ago, Mrs. Farnham.”
“I’m not married.”
“Who’s he, then?”
“Who he is isn’t any of your
business” said Diane tersely.
“Obviously” replied the
receptionist. “The paramedics described her symptoms to Dr. Redding, and he
recommended an immediate cat-scan.”
“Where can we find him?”
“In his office, probably, Ms
Farnham”
“Where is it?”
“Go down the corridor to the left
of here, take the second door on the right, head down the corridor behind it,
and then take the first left. It’s the third door on the right.”
Doug and Diane were halfway
through following these directions, when one of the ward sisters walked up to
them, asking them where they were going.
“To Dr. Redding’s office” said
Diane.
“Well, you’re going the wrong
way. This corridor leads to the maternity unit. Let me guess, Glenda gave you these
directions.”
“I don’t know the receptionist’s
name” replied Diane. “I just know she has an attitude problem. I gave her my
daughter’s full name, and she said she only needed...”
“...the first and last names”
continued the ward sister. “Yeah, that sounds like her.”
“How did you know what she was
going to say?” asked Doug.
“It’s not the first time Glenda
has said that to families giving the full names of relatives who’ve been
admitted. I’ve had my fair share of complaints from them. Sister Martha Buchanan.”
“Diane Farnham and this is my
friend, Doug Trennell.”
“Councillor Trennell’s husband”
“You know my wife?”
“Not personally, but I heard her
being interviewed on BBC Radio Alvenshire about that god awful family – the
Hicks. Are they being evicted?”
“Pips was hoping for this
outcome, but I’m afraid they aren’t, no.”
Sister Buchanan suddenly rewound
her mind back to hearing the surname Farnham mentioned.
“Are you Darcy’s mum, by any
chance?”
“How do you know my daughter’s
name?”
“I was with Dr. Redding when she
was brought in. The paramedics told me her name – they’d gotten it from one of
the students.”
Sister Buchanan’s face became a
little graver.
“I’ll take you to Dr. Redding’s
office – the right way, this time.”
When they got there, Diane
knocked on his door.
“Come in.”
Diane went in alone. Doug had
gone off to find the nearest coffee machine.
Dr. Redding let her take a seat
without offering it first. She sat down briskly.
“Your daughter has your ears” he
remarked, in order to make her feel at ease.
Ms Farnham could tell this was a
ploy in which to prepare her for bad news. She responded to it anyway.
“Her ears are a tiny bit
smaller.”
He rested his chin on the
knuckles of both his hands.
“What did the cat-scan reveal?”
asked Diane, eager to get down to business.
Dr. Redding showed her the
pictures taken during the procedure. He stood up and pointed at the one on the
top left-hand corner; he then took his seat again.
“What am I looking at?”
“A brain tumour – there’s no nice
way of saying this, Mrs. Farnham, but...”
“Ms. Farnham – I’m not married.”
“There’s no nice way of saying
this, Ms Farnham. The tumour is growing rapidly, and it’s positioned around some
of the brain’s blood vessels.”
“Can’t you operate – remove the
tumour?”
“We daren’t – there’s too great a
risk of one or more blood vessels rupturing if surgery was carried out. That
would lead to internal bleeding. Consequently, Darcy would likely suffer a
brain haemorrhage.”
“So either way, there’s no hope.”
“I’m so very sorry, Ms Farnham,
but in this case there isn’t. The only advice I can offer here is to be there
for her.”
“How long has Darcy got?”
“At the tumour’s current growth
rate, I would estimate between three weeks and two months. I can’t pin it down
anymore than that – I don’t have a specific timeframe.”
Diane leaned forward slightly.
“Tell me, Dr. Redding – how many
patients’ relatives have you denied hope to?”
“I don’t deny people hope, if
there is any. My job is to deliver the facts about a medical condition, whether
it’s treatable or terminal.”
“Well, there is hope, Dr. Redding
– I won’t let her die!” Diane said firmly.
“If you’re talking about
alternative and experimental treatments, I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t
advise you against going down that road.”
Like a robot learning to stand,
Diane rose from her chair.
“Don’t go yet, Ms Farnham”
“I’ve heard all I want to!”
“I want to discuss the
possibility of counselling” he said, with gentle authority.
She partially opened his office
door.
“I’ll be back tomorrow to collect
Darcy.”
“She needs to be kept under
observation for at least a couple of days – maybe more if her condition
changes, or worsens.”
Putting both her palms flat on
the doctor’s desk, Diane leaned in even closer to him than she’d done earlier.
“I’ll be back for her tomorrow!”
There was an aggressive edge to
her voice, which hadn’t been there when entering Dr. Redding’s office. He said
nothing as he watched her leave the room.
Outside in the corridor, Doug was
sat in the second seat in a row of three. He had hold of two coffees, one of
which was for Diane. He passed it to her, but she didn’t stop walking away from
the room she’d been in. Putting down both hot beverages on seat number three,
he went after her.
“Where are you going?”
“Sudfield Hall”
“What did Dr. Redding say?”
Lacking emotion, Diane answered
“She has a brain tumour – they can’t do anything. Darcy’s got less than two
months.”
“Christ! Diane, I’m so, so
sorry!”
She stopped still for a moment
then turned to face Doug.
He put his arms around her. The
hug didn’t last more than several seconds. She freed herself from the sympathy
cuddle and took four steps backward.
“If there’s anything I can do,
Diane.”
“There is, Doug. I want you to
give Skye Linton a message.”
He was suddenly mystified. Doug
couldn’t see how she fitted into what was going on with Diane’s daughter.
Despite this, he asked “What message?”
“Tell her the deal’s off! I don’t
care anymore what I owe Skye – I owe Darcy more!”
Whilst Doug tried to make sense
of what she’d said, Diane continued walking away. On her way to her car, she
selected a number on her phone.
Resting on a shelf below the
round window, a blue I-Phone started ringing. Instead of the traditional
telephone sound, the song ‘Radioactive’ echoed around the room. Emma answered
it. Sophie was doing ballet routines. There was no background music playing.
She was using melodies in her head to guide her feet. Both of the sisters were
wearing nightgowns – Sophie’s was orange and Emma’s was dark purple. Every one
of the walls had something written on it in animal blood. One such sentence –
“Sally North has a good heart...I’d like to play Lacrosse with it” – had been
daubed less than five minutes ago. The blood was still dripping.
Maggot-ridden carcasses of the
creatures they’d used for this purpose lay flat against the room’s skirting
boards. Flies were still buzzing around them. The air in the room was heavy
with the unmistakable odour of decomposition.
“Hello? Diane, where are you? We
were just decorating.”
She kept silent as she listened to
what Ms Farnham was telling her. Sophie picked up a rabbit that Diane had
brought into ‘The Fridge’ this morning. It struggled to escape – its’ back legs
furiously pummelling thin air. The animal sensed what was coming. Sophie held
it up to her face with one hand. With the other, she pierced the bunny’s
stomach with a pair of scissors she’d hidden behind her back. With its blood,
she scrawled the name Oswald on the wall opposite to where the circular window
was.
Unlocking her car from a
distance, Diane said “I want something in return!”
Sitting on the round window’s
ledge, Emma listened intently to her condition.
“It’s a deal, Diane. Now, come
free us.”
Done with the call, Ms Farnham
re-entered her car and backed it out. In a matter of seconds, it drove away,
minus Doug.
Emma turned to her sister,
grinned eerily and said “We’re being let out to play!”
Pippa got through two coffees
before deciding which of her pre-compiled questions to ask. Jennifer’s face had
the complexion of someone over 35 again.
“A special kind of make-up to
give people the impression I age naturally” said DCI Stoneham, thinking her
friend was curious about this.
She wasn’t. This didn’t happen to
be one of the things Councillor Trennell wanted to ask.
“I want Alicia to be one of those
people who get that impression – promise me you’ll never tell her what I am.”
The request brought out Pippa’s
indignant side.
“Why should I, Jennifer?”
“Because I don’t want her to know
about that side of my life or about ‘The Guild’”
“What’s ‘The Guild’?”
“It’s a kind of vampire
Parliament, but with less than ten members” replied Jennifer.
This was the only real world
description she could come up with. Pippa got the general idea instantly.
“Fine, I won’t tell Alicia.”
The assurance she afforded
Jennifer lacked empathy, but the promise was genuine enough for the DCI. With
this issue out of the way, Councillor Trennell asked “What’s her real name?”
pointing at the girl who’d been masquerading as Miss Linton.
“Leola” Skye said, answering
Pippa’s question. “It’s a Saxon name. I kept it until 1102”
Councillor Trennell started
pulling memories of books, films and TV shows depicting vampires to the front
of her mind. She was re-analysing them. Suddenly, the ‘un-dead’ weren’t fiction
anymore. Pippa couldn’t hide behind explanations that debunked the notion of
their existence. The fangs weren’t dental implants. She’d seen them appear and
then turn back into normal teeth right before her eyes.
“How many identities have you
assumed, Leola?”
“I’ve lost count”
“I can believe it”
Her response to Leola’s answer
was steeped in incredulity. This emotion wasn’t vanishing any time soon.
“What do I tell my family?”
“You don’t, Pips” said Jennifer
firmly. “There’s nothing to be gained from doing that.”
“Except being open with the people
I care about the most. What’s to stop me telling them? Why can’t I? Why can’t I
tell Rosie?”
“Because she’ll think it’s cool
that our kind exists! Teenage boys and girls seem to hero worship vampires
these days.”
“They hero worship the actors and
actresses playing them” said Pippa, correcting Leola. “They don’t actually
worship what they are on screen!”
“It’s the same thing to me.”
“That proves how little you know
Rosie – she’ll want reasons why you don’t consider it cool.”
“I can give you two – Emily and
Lynette Eddington” said Leola.
“Who are they when they’re at
home?”
“These days, they’re known as
Emma and Sophie Walsh, Councillor Trennell”
“They’re...”
Leola nodded.
“So they didn’t bully you”
“That was a lie”
What had just occurred to
Councillor Trennell was something Leola had expected her to realise, the second
she learned vampires are real.
“She was right, wasn’t she?”
Pippa said, thinking of Holly Pearce. “You were never a resident at Sudfield
Hall.”
“I wasn’t, no” Leola said,
without asking Pippa who the ‘she’ in question was.
“Who are the Eddington sisters?”
“Two blonde young women”
Pippa detected a significant
amount of reticence in Leola’s voice, when talking about them. Nonetheless, she
remained determined to learn more about these siblings.
“Who are they to you?”
“They’re a reminder”
“A reminder of what”
“Of the consequences of my
compassion”
“You turned them both into...”
began Pippa.
She suspended her reply whilst
one of the waitresses passed their table.
“I did, yeah” said Leola, saving
Councillor Trennell the bother of finishing her sentence.
“Why did you?”
The ringtone on Leola’s phone
sounded just as she’d opened her mouth. She answered it, stood up and then moved
away from the cafe table. Jennifer watched her pop outside to take the call.
“What did Skye...Leola mean by
“consequences of my compassion?”
“What do you think she meant?”
After staring at the cafe’s
entrance momentarily, Pippa turned back to Jennifer and forward, her mouth
half-open.
“Emma and Sophie are her
daughters?”
“Yes, and that’s all I know”
Pippa saw a specific movement of
one of her left cheek’s muscle. She attributed it to three instances when
Jennifer had fibbed about something.
“No it isn’t, Jennifer”
“It was my cheek, wasn’t it,
Pips?”
“It always is. What don’t I know
about Emma and Sophie?”
“When their father discovered
what Leola was, he took his disgust out on them. Their sanity suffered and they
both had a mental breakdown. Asylums were different in Edwardian
times...treatments were more brutal that what they are now – do you see what
I’m saying?”
“I do”
Pippa dared herself to picture
the scenario Jennifer was hinting at. The side of her that was repulsed by such
imagery intervened, blotting it out.
“How did they end up at
Sudfield?”
“Leola...or Skye, if you
like...lured them back to the UK. She’d been tracking them down since the late
1930s.
“Why did Leola really come back?”
“There’s something she needs.”
“What is it?”
“The Henford Dagger”
“Why does she need that?”
“To do two things: rectify a
costly error of judgement and clean up the mess it created.”
Pippa didn’t need Jennifer to say
any more. She’d already worked out what Leola’s intention was regarding the Eddington
siblings. The conclusion wasn’t palatable to her, but she recognised it wasn’t
her going to be doing the deed. Glancing at the wall behind the counter, she
saw what time the clock was showing.
“I’d better call Rosie – she’ll
be wondering why I’m late coming back” she said to DCI Stoneham.
Her I-Phone had only been
switched on for a moment, when it rang. Councillor Trennell let the ringtone
sound twice before taking it.
“Yes, who is it? Rosie? Slow
down, love. U-huh...okay, stay where you are! I’ll explain why I was delayed
when I get back.”
“What’s going on?”
“That was Rosie – she said Doug
called her, saying that Diane had taken off from Canroth General. I don’t know
any more than that, except him saying he’s going to catch the next train back
to Alven.”
Leola re-entered, ending the call
she’d received. She glanced over at Jennifer and Pippa, viewing their
expressions.
“What’s wrong?”
DCI Stoneham didn’t enlighten
Skye until she was in Pippa’s house. Councillor Trennell, Jennifer and Leola
were at the dining table, when Doug finally walked through his front door.
Rosie was upstairs in her bedroom, on the phone to Alicia.
“Evening, Pips”
His eyes opened wider when he saw
DCI Stoneham sat between Pippa and Leola.
“Evening, Jennifer – I didn’t
expect you to...”
Doug broke off, and Jennifer saw
he had the expression of someone ready to issue terrible news. She’d had that
look a few times when she was a WPC.
“What’s happened?”
“Diane’s daughter, Darcy”
Standing up, Pippa asked “What
about her?”
“She’s got a brain tumour. Diane
was told the doctors can’t remove it. Dr. Redding doesn’t think she’s got long
– possibly two months”
Councillor Trennell cupped her
hands over her mouth. Doug caught Jennifer’s stare, before his eyes connected
with Leola’s gaze.
“Skye, Diane wanted me to give
you a message”
“What message?”
“This is going to sound strange”
said Doug, having thought about it for a moment. “She said the deal is off, she
no longer cares about what she owes you, and that she owes Darcy more.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, Pips. She told me
to pass that message on to Skye, and then she left me stranded at the
hospital.”
Leola’s eyes moved in all
directions. When they were still again, she said to Doug “Repeat that last part
again”.
“She owes Darcy more” he replied,
without knowing why he’d been asked to do that.
Reaching into one of her pockets,
Leola pulled out her phone. She was about to scroll down the list of contacts
on it, when one of the landline phones in the house began to ring. Pippa picked
it up, being the nearest one to it.
“Hello? Diane?”
Pippa turned to Leola and said
“She wants to talk to you”.
She took the phone from her and
walked to the centre of the room.
Diane was making the call via her
I-Phone. She had just entered Sudfield’s ground floor.
“Hello, Leola” she said.
“Where are you now?”
“At the foot of the stairs”
In the background, Leola heard the
voices of Emerald Hyford and Sally North. They were raised again. Another row
between them had erupted.
“I got your message”
“I knew he’d deliver it. Doug
thinks it was my grief talking.”
“In a way, Diane, it is! I can’t
think of any other reason why you’d consider doing this.”
“Doing what?” mouthed Doug.
Nobody answered him.
“It’s the only reason I’m
prepared to give!”
DCI Stoneham was the only one who
realised Doug was baffled by Diane’s strange behaviour at the hospital. She
felt he needed an explanation that would be easy to accept.
“She’s having trouble dealing
with such terrible news” said Jennifer.
Her response stopped Doug’s curiosity
about Diane’s unusual comment in its tracks. It fitted into the notion of
people expressing their grief differently.
“I’m at the foot of the flight of
stairs leading up to the cage’s door.”
“Diane!”
“Bye!”
There were a few seconds of
silence and then a click.
“Fuck – she’s hung up!”
She paced back and forth for
several seconds before asking Pippa “Can you drive me to Sudfield Hall?”
“Why do you want me to take you
there?” asked Pippa. “You heard her...she...”
“Diane’s in a very bad place,
yes” Leola said to Councillor Trennell, pointing discreetly at Doug.
Pippa nodded to signify she
understood why Leola had butted in.
“I have my reasons, which I’ll
explain in the car. Will you take me?”
“Yes, I will, but I’m holding you
to that!”
“What do you want me to say to
Rosie when she comes out of her room?”
“Just tell her I’ve got county
council business to take care of, Jennifer. That explanation usually works.”
“Okay!”
Leola and Pippa entered the
downstairs corridor. Rosie was coming downstairs just as they were halfway out
the door.
“Mum, where are you and Skye
going?”
Neither of them answered as
Councillor Trennell closed the door behind them. DCI Stoneham was now in charge
of giving Rosie that answer.
At the place they were heading
to, Diane was stood in front of the door with the key code security system. The
first finger on her right hand was poised in alignment with the middle number
of the nine digits. It faltered for a second or two. One last tiny sliver of
conscience had wriggled its way in. An image of Darcy as a 16 year-old formed
in her mind, and her resolve returned. She entered in the code to open the
door. The green light came on, and she it opened it wide, deliberately leaving
it ajar. Diane rushed down each flight of stairs as quickly as possible. She
reached the driveway and got back in her car. Diane put the key in the ignition
and turned it a little to the right. This wasn’t to get the engine going – it
was merely to activate the digital radio and CD player in the vehicle. Diane
selected a channel and turned it up, so she wouldn’t hear what was about to
happen in Sudfield. The loud music was her insulation against what she’d done.
Through the door to ‘The Fridge’,
Emily and Lynette appeared. Still in their nightgowns, the sisters exchanged
glances, smiled malevolently at one another, and zipped through the door ahead
of them at lightning speed.
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