Dark Heart Forever (4 page)

As I opened the back door I glanced at her observing me, fearfully almost. And I felt a twinge of guilt. I was being a brat.

‘I’ll be fine, Mum,’ I told her softly. ‘Don’t worry.’

‘Bobby, what is it with you?’ I said, pushing him off my lap as I sat in front of my computer. ‘You won’t leave me alone today.’

It was four in the afternoon and I had finally got down to homework, or ‘work’, since I didn’t actually go to school. I’d been assigned the Tudors as my History topic by my mother for this term. Normally I loved History, for me it was like escaping into another world, discovering a life I could hardly imagine. But today I wasn’t concentrating, even though I was desperate for a diversion. What had happened to me last night was, for the first time, clear in practically every detail. No wonder the antics of Henry and his poor wives had lost interest for me. My own life had taken on a whole new and unsettling dimension. I wondered briefly if I had some kind of mental disorder, something that had lain dormant for years until now. I was seeing things that weren’t there, imagining green-eyed boys singling me out for nocturnal visits. It would make sense, I thought, to invent a situation that would never happen. Never happen to
me
, anyway.

Bobby gave me his most winning look and pawed my leg. ‘Dottie!’ I called. ‘Take the dog out, would you? He’s all over me.’

Dot appeared in the doorway. ‘Here, boy …’ She bent down and opened her arms out to embrace the dog, but he remained, indifferent, beside me.

‘Silly dog.’ She straightened up and walked over to look at my screen. ‘Ugh. History homework. Poor Jane.’ She put her arm around my shoulders, and I turned my face up to hers and smiled.

‘Your scratch has gone,’ she said, touching the place where it had been.

I put my hand up and felt only smooth skin.

‘Janey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.’

Not a ghost, I thought, calmly. But something just as unreal.

‘Anyway, Mum wants you to go with Dad to the shops before they shut. She’s run out of “ladies’ things”. He’s leaving right now.’

On cue, we both heard the sound of Dad starting the engine in his truck. I looked down at my combats and dolly jumper. ‘I need to change,’ I told Dot, shutting down the computer. ‘Tell Dad five minutes.’

‘You’re changing to go to the shops with Dad?’ Dot raised an eyebrow.

‘So? I can’t go out like this.’

Dot twirled maddeningly around the chair then abruptly stopped. ‘Put on a skirt. You might bump into you-know-who …’

Evan. I had almost forgotten about him. Boys are obviously like buses – just when you’ve given up waiting, two of them come round the corner.

‘Forget it,’ I told Dot as I walked towards the stairs. ‘And I don’t even have a skirt.’

‘Borrow one of Mother’s,’ my sister called as I climbed up to my bedroom. ‘She won’t mind …’

I huffed as I threw sweatshirts, shorts, jeans and leggings out of my drawers. It was true. I didn’t have a single item of feminine clothing. The only girly thing about me was my hair. Thick, dark and unfashionably curly. I studied my face in the wardrobe mirror. My eyes were OK, big and a dark grey-blue colour, but my skin was a nightmare. Pale and sickly. There was no hope for me.

‘Jane, hurry up,’ called Dad from outside. ‘What are you doing up there?’

Quickly I put on a little eyeliner I’d stolen from Mum once. It was an improvement, I realised as I checked out my eyes in the mirror. I rubbed in a dab of red lipstick to give my cheeks some colour. Then I ran my fingers through my hair, which at least was glossy. What do you think you’re doing? I asked myself. Evan can’t possibly be interested in you.

Still, I carefully chose my newest, dark, straight-legged jeans and a T-shirt that usually made me self-conscious because it was too tight over my chest, but today I somehow didn’t mind. I cast around the room to find something warm to put over it. My eyes fell on the poncho on my chair. I’d take it off if I saw Evan, I told myself. Even if it meant freezing to death.

Stop it. You’re not going to see him.

My dad tooted his horn loudly.

‘OK, OK.’ I moved towards the rumpled poncho and pulled it over my head. ‘I’m coming.’

I had the strangest feeling as I pulled it down, a feeling of foreboding. Out of the window, I could see my father waiting patiently by the truck. I smiled, trying to shrug off dark thoughts. I always loved going places with my dad. He’d turn on the radio and sing, and I’d always feign embarrassment. Secretly, though, I loved him singing as we drove. It made me feel safe, protected.

Dad looked up at my window and waved.

‘You look beautiful, Janey,’ he said. ‘Now hurry up or your mother will make both of our lives miserable.’

I grabbed my purse and ran down the stairs, foreboding gone.

Almost.

‘D
amn, this old thing is getting crankier every day,’ said Dad as the engine sputtered unhealthily on the road down to Bale. He changed gear, deafening us both with the noise.

‘You need a new one,’ I said, as he pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The truck swerved unhelpfully towards the side of the road and then swung out again.

‘Dad?’ I said, alarmed. ‘This feels dangerous.’

‘It’s fine.’ I wasn’t reassured. ‘It’s the cold weather lately. She’s telling me she’s had enough.’ We were coming to the bottom of the hill. Dad tried to get a station on the radio but it crackled unhelpfully and he gave up. I put my feet up on the dashboard and leaned back.

As I looked through my window, I saw the sky turning rapidly from bright to overcast. A huge black cloud appeared from nowhere and the light dimmed to near-darkness.

‘Great.’ Dad reached into the glove compartment for his glasses. ‘Can’t see a thing. Janey, can you … ?’

But a shape coming out of the patch of trees to the right diverted my attention. An animal, the biggest dog I had ever seen, hurtled powerfully into the road in front of us. As the animal sped past, it leaped.

A snarling head, teeth bared, the red of its angry gums visible. I saw its eyes, black as night, hateful. I dropped my feet from the dashboard.

‘Dad!’ I heard myself scream. ‘Stop!’

‘Jesus!’ I turned to see my father’s face ashen and frightened. ‘I can’t …’ With enormous effort he gripped the steering wheel and turned it to swerve out of the creature’s way, and the truck seemed to gain momentum, careering towards the wire fence holding back the mountain trees. Panicking, I put my hands to my eyes, unable to look, registering only that I had my seatbelt on. All I could hear was the buzzing of the engine and then the massive jolt as it drove into the fence and the low stone wall behind it. I kept my hands over my eyes, waiting for it to be over.

We had stopped moving, but the engine was going mad, humming maniacally like the most powerful chainsaw you’ve ever heard.

My heart still thumping, I took my hands from my eyes and turned to my father. He lay slumped over the wheel, his forehead streaked with blood. Not moving.

‘Dad?’ I gasped, moving cautiously in my seat. I didn’t seem to be hurt. Snapping out of my seatbelt, I scooched over to him, leaning forward to see if his eyes were open. They weren’t. I swallowed, feeling frightened tears coming.

Don’t panic, Jane, I told myself, but I had no idea what to do. I didn’t even own a mobile phone because I had no one to ring – but Dad did. I frantically dug around in the pockets of his coat – but nothing, he must have left it behind today. I closed my eyes, willing another car to come past and see us, but there was only silence. I knew very well that this stretch of road had no drive-throughs. It led up to our house and nothing else. Nobody would come up this far.

I let out a small moan and sat back, trying to think. I’d left the Girl Guides the week I’d joined, typically antisocial. If I’d stayed, I might have some clue about what to do in this kind of emergency.

Selfish idiot.

I wound down the window and let the freezing air calm me. I had a feeling, Girl Guides or not, that you were supposed to keep warm if you were in shock – but it felt like the right thing. Above me the dark clouds dispersed, revealing a full moon.

I stared at it, perfect and round up there in the sky, as though it would provide some vital inspiration. Then, knowing that I was wasting time, I shut my eyes, willing myself to be strong, to think.

Think, Jane.

And then there was just stillness, and I emptied my head of every other thought but what I wanted, really wanted. Help him. Help him. Help him. I chanted it in my mind, over and over.

In my head I saw my father on a trolley in the A&E in Hassock, rushing through corridors to where a doctor and two nurses were standing. And then the frantic administering of drugs, a heart monitor, the beeping of machines, someone shouting out orders, and a hand on my arm, rubbing it, a soft, female voice, talking to me.

‘Is he going to be OK?’

I opened my eyes, startling myself with the sound of my voice.

A woman in scrubs, with small, birdlike features, was smiling at me.

‘He’s going to be OK.’ She studied me. ‘Are you sure you weren’t hurt? I think we need to check you out.’

‘I thought he was …’ I stopped, relief making me shake.

‘He’s concussed and lost consciousness for a while and he’s got nasty head and neck injuries,’ said the nurse. ‘But you got him here quickly.’

‘How did I … ?’ I began. How had we got here? It didn’t make sense.

‘Never seen anything like it,’ she said, shining a thin torch into my eyes. ‘Your friend just walking in, carrying your dad in his arms. Quite the hero.’ She clicked off the light. ‘And you seem in good shape. You’re very lucky.’

‘My friend?’ Could this day get any more surreal?

‘He’s back in the visitors’ room,’ she said, picking up a clipboard and writing something down. ‘And he’s causing quite a stir.’ She winked at me. ‘Lucky girl.’

I smiled weakly. ‘I’ll be right back. If you could just tell me where the visitors’ room is?’

She pointed down the corridor. ‘Keep walking and first left.’

I walked slowly, unable to catch my breath. Who was I going to find in that room?

I knew only two boys, and one of them was technically a figment of my imagination.

As I rounded the corner I looked down at myself. My poncho, my jeans, my T-shirt were perfectly intact, even my green Converse were without a mark. I hadn’t got a scratch.

A large sign saying
VISITORS’ ROOM
sat above a glass door with a Venetian blind hanging behind it. I took hold of the handle and held my breath. Slowly I turned it and the door opened to reveal an almost-empty room. Empty but for a figure in a familiar dark coat, hunched in a seat, his long legs resting on a low table in front of him. His face looked paler than ever, but the sight of it, and his soft, green eyes regarding me where I stood, made me curiously calm again.

‘You helped us …’ I whispered, tears coming quietly. ‘Thank you.’

‘You’re welcome.’ He gave me a weak smile, keeping his arms wrapped around him, his hands lost in the folds of his coat. I moved to sit next to him, but he shook his head.

‘No … Jane,’ he said, his voice strained. ‘Now is not the time. I will explain this to you. I promise.’ I noticed he was trembling.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ I looked down, noticing the whole of his body seemed to be in spasm.

‘I … I’ll explain that, too …’ Luca’s voice juddered. ‘But you have to leave now, you understand. Go back to your father.’

‘But I …’ I took another step closer, reluctant to leave him like this.

‘Please leave,’ he said. And his tone was hard now, his eyes growing wide and aggressive. I stepped back, shocked, and Luca swallowed, speaking again with effort. ‘Believe me, this will be too much for you. Go.’

I nodded, turning back – and then I heard it. A sound, low and hoarse, behind me. I swallowed and ran through the door, shutting it firmly. Then, not wanting to hear what was happening inside, I walked quickly back to where I needed to be.

G
reek myths and legends, I’d studied them. I’d drawn the parallels with feelings and behaviour and all the dilemmas and challenges people face today. But elves and goblins, complicated labyrinthine worlds where dragons speak and quests are embarked on? I’d never taken them seriously. I knew that it was strange, given my alienation from a world full of social networks and fashion magazines and cliques, that I hadn’t lost myself in these worlds, loved them and believed in them – but I hadn’t. My dad always said I was born seeing black and white and nothing in between, but I didn’t think that was true. I guess deep down, I never dared believe that magic existed. Until the day Dad ended up in hospital.

I picked up the box of cereal I’d been staring at for five minutes and added it to my basket. I checked Mum’s list. Soap, dog food and a copy of the local newspaper.

I found the soap further along. Unperfumed. Typical of my mother.

Then I moved up the second aisle in our cramped little grocer’s, picking up two tins of fancy dog food. Again, typical. Bobby was the only recipient of luxury in our family.