Underground Rivers (6 page)

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Authors: Mike French

Tags: #town, #morecambe, #literature, #Luton, #Anthologies (Multiple Authors), #short stories, #bedfordshire, #book club, #library, #Fiction, #culture, #writers, #authors, #writing, #local

BOOK: Underground Rivers
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Charlie's astride me. He forces my head back and tries to kiss me. I turn away. The grip on my throat tightens. Charlie's face swims above mine. Purple cheeks. Blue veins. Yellowy teeth. Clashing against mine. He bites my lips. I flail and slap. He snarls. Head butts me. Spits in my eye. The room's red. Misty. My nose is broken for sure. So much pain. Like nothing I ever imagined. Anna must be seeing all this. Why doesn't she do something? Why isn't she stopping him?

Then the truth dawns. She wants him back. She's not here to help me. She's going to let him kill me. All she wants is her baby blue eyes. Why the fuck did I trust her? My mouth's full of blood and rug. Fluffy. Sticky. Suffocating. Charlie's ripping off my bathrobe. Tearing down the knickers he put on me with such tenderness. She's standing there laughing. She must be. Revenge is so sweet. And Charlie's doing it all for her. All she has to do is cheer him on. How stupid have I been? No. No. NO. They're not doing this. Not here. Not in my own home. Not on my beautiful white rug.

I kick. Scrabble. Scream. Like a thing possessed. Charlie's trying to smother me. His hand presses down over my mouth and nose. I'm spinning out. Everything blurs and rushes into darkness. But just as I'm letting go he wavers. He's gone too far. My survival instinct kicks back. I sink my teeth deep into the flesh of his palm. My mouth fills with stale alcohol and blood. I hear a howl of pain somewhere above me.

And there's a jolt and a peculiar, strangled grunt. Almost surprised. Charlie convulses and gurgles. His hand drops away. He slumps across me. Anna's standing over us. Granny's kitchen knife in her hand. Pure triumph in her eyes. But she's not done yet. She's coming for me next. I squirm and heave at the mass that used to be Charlie. He's too heavy. A dead weight. Anna watches. Impassive. I'm stuck and she knows it. She can afford to take her time. I breathe out a long, final breath. Exhaling all the love. The pain. The betrayal. I close my eyes and wait for the inevitable.

The knife makes a strange ‘ssching' as it pierces the rug. It stands there. Shuddering. All on its own. Inches from my nose. A scene from a film. Not one of my favourites. Anna drops to her knees. She's shaking and crying.

“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”

I've no idea which of us she's talking to.

Somehow we roll Charlie over and arrange him on the rug. Hands crossed on his chest. Eyes closed. Butter wouldn't melt in that beautiful mouth. I pick up the knife and lay it on his stomach. The tip of the blade on the buckle of his belt. Seems appropriate. Then we cling to each other. Two lost souls. Rocking. Sobbing. For the end of the world. Anna for baby blue-eyes. I for my blue-eyed boy. And all the while the white rug's changing colour. So deeply red, it's almost black at the heart.

Corripio Fatum

by Rory Auld

EXT. LIBRARY ENTRANCE. EVENING.

KEVIN runs up the steps and comes to a halt, leaning against the wall. His hair is matted with sweat and his face is bright red.

Looking around, he checks to make sure he is alone. He seems to have escaped his pursuers for the time being. Sliding to the floor, he lets out a large sigh of relief.

Before he can become relaxed, he hears sounds of voices coming from around the corner of the library.

ALAN (O.C.)

Come on! I know he came down this street and
there's only one place he can be.

Kevin staggers up and rushes into the library.

No sooner is he in the door, then ALAN, JIM and JEFF appear, also heading into the building.

INT. LIBRARY. EVENING.

ALAN, JIM and JEFF stand in the middle of the library. It's empty of people, except for the one librarian who is busy working. Alan scans the room, for any sign of KEVIN.

ALAN

Alright, spread out and find him ... and do it quietly. I don't want to get booted out of here, before I get the chance to get my hands on him. Got it?

Jim and Jeff nod and walk off in different directions. Alan stands waiting.

Kevin stands behind a shelf, looking between the spaces in the books. Off in the distance he can just make out Alan. Slowly he bends down and walks along the line of the shelf, heading deeper into the library, in the hope of escaping his pursuers.

After a short distance, Kevin comes to the end of the shelf and looks around. He is trapped. The shelf ends and opens into a large common area filled with tables for people to sit and read in quiet. But standing in the middle of that area is Jeff, his gaze, watchful: waiting for Kevin to make a mistake and show himself.

Kevin takes a step back and spies an open door to his right. Above it is a sign: STAFF ONLY - LIBRARY ARCHIVES.

Taking only a second to think, Kevin lunges forward from behind the shelf and through the door into the libraries archives.

INT. LIBRARY ARCHIVES. EVENING.

KEVIN enters the dimly lit room. It is filled with shelves upon shelves of dust covered books. More than Kevin could hope to read in one life time. He tentatively walks forward.

After a short distance the sound of the door behind him slamming shut makes him jump and he turns around, trapped in the archives, no way of knowing if he is free to leave the library or not.

With only one choice now presented to him, he begins to head deeper into the room. Slowly and as quietly as a mouse he advances.

Every once in a while he stops to look at the books around him, but he dare not touch them.

Turning a corner, he stumbles over a pile of books that have been left on the floor and collapses, knocking a nearby shelf. A dozen or so books land on top of him and as each one hits him, he lets out a small grunt of pain.

After the last has landed, he pushes them off and sits up; he picks up the nearest book and examines it. It is simple with black leather bindings and on the side, in large white letters, it reads BOOK. Kevin opens it and skims through the pages. All of them are blank. Kevin flicks the book back to the first page and seeing that it is still empty goes to close it. As he does so he accidentally cuts his finger on the edge of the paper.

A single drop of blood lands on the page and for a moment nothing happens. Then the paper absorbs it. Suddenly the pages begin to ruffle back and forward. Kevin drops the book in fright. After a short time the pages stop and fold open. Kevin slowly approaches. The first page of the book now reads:

Corripio Fatum by Kevin Clarke.

Kevin flicks through the pages once again, his face a mixture of confusion and panic.

Suddenly a voice from behind him snaps him back to reality.

FEMALE VOICE (O.C.)

Kevin? ..
. Is that you, Kevin?

Kevin turns around to find the LIBRARIAN standing in the room looking at him with a combination of confusing and mild anger.

LIBRARIAN

Kevin, why are you back here? Come on? Out now before we're all in trouble.

Kevin stands up, quickly tucking the book into his coat and begins to walk towards the librarian.

KEVIN

I'm sorry, I was ... Trying to ...

LIBRARIAN

I'm sure you had your reason, but I can't talk now. Not here about them anyway.

The librarian smiles at him.

LIBRARIAN (CONT'D)

Come on, I have those comics for you, that you ordered.

EXT. STREET. LATE EVENING.

It is late evening and the sun is beginning to set, KEVIN cautiously walks down the street. In his hands he holds some comics and the book.

Before he can react he is pushed to the ground from behind and crashes to the floor, the comics and the book scattering in front of him.

Turning around he see JEFF standing over him.

JEFF

Well look who I found
.

Kevin struggles to get up.

Jeff kicks his leg and Kevin stops, half standing half kneeling.

JEFF (CONT'D)

You isn't getting up yet my fat friend. You fucked me off earlier, thinking it was funny to get Alan to whack me. I fucking hate when people whack me.

Jeff steps over Kevin and picks up one of the comics.

JEFF (CONT'D)

Look what we have here.

Jeff smacks Kevin round the side of the head with it and begins to laugh.

Kevin stands up, rubbing his head.

KEVIN

Get away from me.

JEFF

What was that?

KEVIN

I said get away from me ... You ... You prick!

Jeff shakes his head at Kevin and then throws the comic to the floor.

JEFF

You done it now, I'm really gonna have to smash you up now.

Jeff approaches him and before he can react, Kevin pushes him and Jeff stumbles back, slipping on the comic and landing on the floor on his back.

Kevin lets out a small laugh.

Jeff looks up at him, his eyes filled with rage. His hands dart around for something and they eventual settle on the small black book from the archive.

The minute Jeff picks it up, Kevin's face changes and he rushes forward.

KEVIN

No, get away from that... Don't touch it.

Jeff kicks Kevin away and stands up.

JEFF

Oh really?

Jeff looks at the book.

JEFF (CONT'D)

What kind of book just says book on the side? Huh? Is that a special book for retards like you? Let's have a look eh?

Jeff opens the book and begins to thumb through the pages.

JEFF (CONT'D)

What is this? There's nothing I ...

Jeff stops mid-sentence. Words and letters begin to spread up his arms like tattoos, eventually settling all over his face, spreading so that finally his eyes become as black as the night. For a split second, Jeff and Kevin just stand there, staring at each other, Kevin unsure what is happening or what he should even do. Then as suddenly as the letters and words appeared on Jeff's arms, they disappear again and he collapses to the floor.

The book lands next to him.

Kevin rushes towards Jeff and kneels down next to him.

Kevin begins to shake him back and forward.

Jeff stares out at him, his eyes dulled, his shallow breathing just audible over Kevin's frightened mumbling.

Kevin looks around for help, quickly grabbing his comics and lastly the book, he races down the street away from Jeff.

The Return

by Judi McKay

Rachel snapped her book shut and shoved it into her tote bag as she noticed the scenery outside the train window changing from trees and fields to houses and roads. She began fussing with her clothes, pulling her shirt down so that it lay smooth against her chest, then caught herself, stopped, and sat calm and still as the train slowed to a halt. She'd arrived.

She was not expecting to be met. She had not planned to take this trip and had only finally decided her destination when asked by the ticket seller where she was going; but every step she took away from where she had lived for the past ten years seemed to be leading her towards this place.

You have to go home, face your demons
.

So, here she was.

The train pulled out, leaving her alone on the platform. She frowned and stared at her surroundings. Unfamiliar buildings huddled round the station. She could smell car fumes where once the scent was grass.

On the station forecourt were a couple of taxis, their drivers leaning against car doors, fiddling with their mobile phones. She checked in her purse, unsure if the meagre amount of money she had was enough to pay for a taxi and a bed for the night.

Going where?

As she walked towards the front cab in the rank, its driver looked up from his phone in anticipation. Then, from behind, she heard, “Rachel!” and the sound of stilettos tapping on the pavement. She turned and waited until her sister was in front of her, red-faced and panting.

“Hayley? What're you doing here?”

Her sister leaned in for a hug as Rachel pulled back.

“Well, I ..., well, I knew today was the day ... they, you, got ...”

“‘Released' is the word you're looking for, Hayley. Today is the day they set me free.”

Hayley nodded, “Hmm, yes, well ... I decided I would meet the trains this morning just in case you came. My car's round the corner. I can take you -”

She stopped, biting her lip.

“Where? Home? Do you still live with Mum?”

Her sister nodded.

“Do you really think she really wants me pitching up there? And I'm pretty sure I can't afford a B&B round here. I'm not exactly flush with money, you know. They don't shower you with gold when you leave.”

Her sister took a step backwards, opened her arms and shrugged, “I'm sorry. I thought I'd come to see if you turned up. I figured, well, that if you did, it was because you wanted to come home. You must have had a plan to go somewhere when you set out this morning. I just came to help you. But I'll go if you like.”

Was that a tear in her eye?

Hayley turned to walk back the way she had come. The taxi driver, who had been watching the exchange, walked to the passenger door of his cab, opened the door and motioned Rachel to get in, remarking, “Families, eh?”

Rachel's head snapped up, “And how is this any of your business?”

He stepped back, hands held up in surrender, “Lady, if you chose to argue in public, you make it everyone's business.”

“Screw you.”

She turned around, intending to walk away and bumped into Hayley.

“I thought you'd abandoned me. Again.”

Hayley shook her head. “Look, this is difficult for me too, you know. I feel so bad that I wasn't there for you, but Mum said I wasn't to contact you, and Robert backed her up, and, and ...” The rest of her words were lost in sobs and splutters as she opened her handbag and extracted a tissue.

Rachel waited, standing stiffly, arms locked at her side, looking everywhere but at her sister.

Eventually Hayley blew her nose, stood a little straighter, “Look, this started badly. Let's go and get a coffee, have a chat and take it from there.”

As Rachel hesitated, Hayley said, “Just coffee. No hidden agenda. Look, I tell you what, we'll go to the new library. It's the pride of the town.”

“The library?”

“They raised the funds to rebuild it so it could be partially self-financing. They've added a performing arts centre, function rooms and a coffee shop which does the best latte you would wish for. I bet it's been a long time since you had a decent coffee. Come on.”

Rachel stood for a moment, then nodded, “OK you can buy me a coffee.”

As they walked away, Rachel shouted back to the taxi driver, “And you can find someone else to insult.”

In the High Street, Rachel felt as if all the shoppers were aiming directly at her, intent on mowing her down. Instinctively, she linked her arm through her sister's, who beamed at the gesture.

“Christ, is it always this busy?”

Hayley looked around her, “I'm not usually here during the week, but it seems pretty quiet to me.”

Everywhere people were speaking on, or fiddling with their phones. Mobile phones had come a long way in ten years. Rachel thought of the brick which had been returned to her that morning and grinned. Maybe she should get another one.

But who would I call?

The library stood at the end of a side road, its glass and brick structure towering over the nearby houses and shops. As they walked towards it, Hayley said, “Don't you think you were a bit rude to that poor man? He was only trying to make conversation.”

Rachel shook her head, “He needs to mind his own business.”

Hayley sighed as Rachel continued, “Privacy has been the only thing that was truly mine for the last ten years. It's important to me and I don't need strangers breaching it.”

“God, you're brittle.” Hayley brought her hand sharply up to her mouth and pressed her lips shut as she glanced at her sister.

“What if I am?” Rachel pulled her arm from her sister's and stopped walking. People parted to move round her.

“Sorry, but, well, you're in the real world now. If you want to fit in, maybe you should exercise a little more restraint.”

Rachel glared at Hayley, who blinked but held her gaze as she said, “I'm sorry, but I'm right about this. You know I am. You need to cut people a bit of slack if you want to fit in.”

Rachel nodded and grabbed Hayley's arm again as she said, “OK, I'll try. But it won't be easy. Come on, get me that coffee.”

It felt less crowded inside, although there were still plenty of people milling around. Large posters advertised coming attractions and the Box Office was doing a brisk trade.

“Over here.” Hayley released her arm and gestured towards glass doors. As they walked over, Rachel spotted a plaque on the wall. Half way down the list of donors to the library's rebuilding was
‘The Lewis Family'
.

Hayley came to stand next to her, “We all loved books, Dad in particular. And it was a good tax break.”

“I guess I should be grateful the entire family has been recognised and it's not just his name up there.”

Hayley hesitated, opened and closed her mouth, then said, “Come on. I bet you're dying for a drink. It must have been a long journey,” and she pushed open the door to the coffee shop.

Hayley motioned Rachel to a table, “What shall I get you?”

Rachel hesitated. The last time she had bought coffee, the choice had been black or white; now the board behind the bustling servers offered what seemed like several hundred choices. She shrugged, “You decide. Something to eat would be good too.”

Later, seated, a large blueberry muffin in front of her, Rachel closed her eyes and took a sip of her steaming vanilla latte.

Perfect!

When she opened her eyes, Hayley was sitting up straight, eyeing her nervously.

“So, honestly, where are you intending to go from here?”

Rachel held up her hand, “Can I please just enjoy this? The coffee is wonderful and the muffin is something I have dreamed of eating for the longest time. Please, for a while, just let me be.”

As Hayley opened her mouth to reply, Rachel continued, “We
will
discuss this, honestly, but give me a few moments of pleasure first.”

Hayley shrugged her agreement and for the next ten minutes, Rachel nibbled her muffin, sipped her coffee and tried to look as if it was what she did every day. Hayley, in contrast, drank her coffee almost in one gulp then fidgeted in her seat, checking her phone every few minutes.

Finally Rachel put down her cup, “OK, I'm ready.”

Hayley leaned forward, speaking quickly, “I've made up the spare room for you. Please, Rach, I want you there.”

“Hayley, we've done this. What on earth makes you think I want to go home?”

“The same reason you got the train here. You've nowhere else to go.”

Rachel rocked back in her chair, paused for a moment then said, “I guess it looks like that, but actually, I've got loads of friends. People who didn't judge me and who bothered to visit while I was away. I just haven't got in touch with them yet.”

And, of course, none of them are likely to have a spare room for me.

Now it was Hayley's turn to sit back.

“I, er, well, we, well ...”

“Thought it best not to visit the woman who'd killed her father? Or was it that you didn't want to upset Mum?”

“It's not like that!”

“It felt like that to me. None of you believed me when I said I didn't do it. You all left me alone. I'm surprised you can bear to be with me now.”

“But you are innocent. I always believed you. I wrote to you, telling you that. And now, it's a matter of record.”

“You wrote to me?”

Hayley nodded, “Yes, as soon as Mum was told where you had been sent. It's me who should be complaining to you. You never wrote back. I wrote loads of letters in the first year.”

“Well, I never got any of them.”

They sat for a moment and then, almost together, said, “Mum!”

“Did you post the letters yourself?”

Hayley shook her head. “I just did what I always do, threw them on the hall table for someone to post when they went out.”

She rubbed her face, “Rachel, I'm so sorry, I thought you'd got all my letters and hadn't replied.”

“And I'm betting you never got anything from me?”

“You sent letters to me?”

“A few times. But when I didn't get any reply I stopped. Why waste precious money on a stamp when I needed to buy makeup and tights? You can see why I don't want to go home. Why should I go to the house of the woman who stopped us keeping in touch?”

“But that was before you were proved to be innocent.”

Rachel leaned forward, “Hayley, you need to understand. I was released because they say that the evidence that convicted me was tainted. They're not saying I didn't kill Dad, just that they can't prove it. They still consider me a murderer. And I bet Mum does too.”

Several people turned to stare as she raised her voice, while Hayley just stared down at the table and fiddled with a teaspoon.

“See, I'm right. Mum's not going to welcome me home. I should never have come here.”

She stood up and began to button her coat.

Hayley grabbed her hand, “No, Wait.”

Rachel sat down as Hayley said in a quiet voice. “We really do need to talk. I'll get us some more coffee, we're going to be here a while. Same again?”

Rachel nodded, then glared at the sightseers.

Hayley was soon back, placing two coffees on the table between them. She picked hers up and took a mouthful before saying, “Look, I'm only going to say this once more. I'm sorry. I'm sorry about all of it. Sorry not to have visited you, sorry you felt as if I'd deserted you, but now you can see how difficult it was for me. Mum made sure I played by her rules.”

“Yes, then maybe, but Christ, Hayley, you're twenty five now. Surely you should be coping on your own?”

Hayley gulped a breath and said, “Can't you see? I want to help you get back on your feet again. And help you prove your innocence. To Mum and to everyone. If we work together, we can find out who really did it and clear your name once and for all.”

She put her coffee cup down and looked expectantly at her sister.

Rachel slammed her mug down on the table and some coffee sloshed onto her hand. She winced and put it into her mouth. Then she leaned towards her sister.

“No.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you need to get this straight. What happened is behind me. I know I'm innocent. I don't need you to prove it to make yourself and Mum feel better.”

“But you have to clear your name.”

“No. I don't. You need me to. Sorry, but if you want to find out who really killed Dad, you're on your own.”

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