Hawthorn (14 page)

I’m not playing the game today. I have limited time and I intend to make good use of it. We had a deal, a bargain, and, yes, I got something precious in return, and so did they. Now they’re playing with me because they know that by daylight I am defenceless, in the night a ghost. I should have anticipated that this day would come, but I was focused on only one goal. I was a mother and it made me weak, desperate. I allowed them to take advantage and now I have to find a way to wake up. If I don’t then my family, the very thing I fought for, is doomed, and I will see them again, but on the darker side of the moon.

The woods are dark, the waning moon hiding behind a cloud, yet I see just fine, my vision heightened by the power in my blood.

I am searching for the trickster, the riddler, the boon-giver. He hides in plain sight in the corner of your eye. It’s hard trying to catch a glimpse. I concentrate and remain real still. I know he will be here, I’ve sensed him on several occasions. It was to him I should have gone in the first place. I was a fool to bargain with The Mother. Ever since my snub he’s waited, biding his time, knowing this moment would come, the moment when I would bow to him, plead with him, beg him for his aid.

I catch movement in the corner of my eye, but don’t flinch, don’t give myself away. I wait for him to get complacent, confident wrapped in shadow.

I pounce and spin, stare him full in the eyes.

He shrieks and laughs and cackles like we have just completed an especially exciting game of hide and seek; which, in a way, I guess we have.

I wait patiently for him to calm himself, never taking my eyes off his sinewy form, like smoke and shadow and silk. His smile rears up wide and toothy, blue eyes gleaming in white, white sclera, floating in an invisible face.

I hate it when he does this, it makes it that much harder to keep him pinned. I guess that’s his point.

“I wish to bargain, Trickster.”

He twists and turns in mid-air, whizzing around me, wrapping me in his shadowy tail until I am dizzy.

“Stop it! You want to bargain, I know it, and you know it, so let’s do this.”

“Oh, dear Mary. Mary, you are quite contrary…”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Listen, I don’t have much time-”

“No you don’t. It isn’t because the moon will soon sleep and the sun will wake.”

A chill races up my spine. “What do you mean?”

“A question deserves a boon.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out a chocolate bar. His eyes go round like dinner plates. Being me has its perks, like being able to imagine up anything I want, Trickster and his kind don’t have that luxury.

His mouth opens and I chuck the bar in, wrapper and all.

He licks his lips and grins at me. “Your mind is fractured, your heart in two, no creature can exist like this, like you. On the final moon of the seventeenth year, the shadow heart will disappear.”

If that means what I think it means… I press my lips together to hold back more questions.

“Ready to bargain?”

He inclines his head.

“I need the bridge. Show me where it is and I will give you a whole box of chocolates.”

He’s contemplating it, I can see it. Trickster is greedy, gluttonous and needy, and he will take the bargain…I hope.

“Forbidden request.”

“When have you ever given a damn about that?”

The woods echo with his laughter. “True, but alas I cannot aid you. Your answer lies within, only you know where your bridge is.”

But I don’t, I really don’t. And if I don’t figure it out soon, when the next full moon hits, I’m gone.

The sun is streaming across my bed. The duvet is warm, the bed toasty, yet my body feels cold, my mind empty.

It’s my birthday today and I know something terrible is going to happen. I feel it in my gut, which twists and kicks, and all I want to do is curl up and go back to sleep; a dreamless, safe sleep that shuts out the world.

I know why Justin was worried about tonight, I remember what Patrick, or Stephen or one of the gang, said about Halloween… Samhain, or something, and the veil being thin and stuff… I know, I just know, that something is coming. Something terrible.

I hear my door creak open and lay real still and fake sleep. I even throw in a little snore, but the minions will not be swayed and they attack me, jumping onto the bed with tiny fists and feet, pulling back the covers and covering me with wet sloppy kisses.

The darkness retreats and a spark of joy, of hope, ignites and I am hugging them and kissing them and tickling them and the morning is no longer filled with doom. It’s filled with the scent of pancakes and freshly ground coffee. It’s filled with the knowledge that it’s my birthday and my fears are suddenly the lingering remnants of a nightmare not to be taken seriously.

I pad into the kitchen, a twin dangling off each arm and am greeted with a cheer of ‘Happy Birthday’. Mum has set my place especially nice with the fancy plates and cups and a small birthday muffin. There’s a pile of fresh pancakes and syrup as well as chocolate spread and sugar and lemon. But what makes my eyes sparkle is the small pile of presents all wrapped in colourful paper sitting by my plate.

I plop the twins in their seats and park my butt in mine, tearing into the presents. Danny has made me a scrap book of drawings and Heather has made me a clay-baked sculpture of a princess, painted pink with green and purple blobs. Jules has got me a leather-bound diary and a book voucher, and mum has gone to town with a whole new box of charms, threads, hooks and stuff for my jewellery making.

As I dig into my mountain of pancakes, I finally feel the real bubble of excitement.

It’s my birthday!

“Seriously? Your mum’s gonna be there?” Jen looks crestfallen.

I shrug. “That’s the deal.”

She sighs. “You okay?”

I plaster a smile on my face. “Yeah, course I am. It’s my birthday and we’re gonna have a kick arse party.”

“Ahuh, but you’ve been weird ever since you got back from being ‘ill’”

I don’t like the bunny ears she makes with her finger when saying ill. She suspects something, but I’m not ready to go there just yet, maybe never. I just want to forget and be normal. I love normal. I ignore her bunny ears and finish applying my makeup. I don’t usually wear any, it makes me feel heavy, but tonight is my night, and I want to look hot. Some of the guys are dressing up as zombies and monsters, it is Halloween after all. Not me. I want to look…sexy.

Jen is watching me as I try to hold the pocket mirror and do my eyeliner.

“There are about a hundred mirrors in this place,” she says. “Why are you using that thing?”

I shrug again. “They’re all fixed to…something or other, walls, wardrobes, more walls.”

“Really? Fixed like screwed on?”

“More like bolted.”

“Here, let me.” She takes the small mirror from me and holds it steady so I can draw the thick black line on my lids that make my eye look elongated and huge, like a feline.

When I am done I sit back and pout. “What do you think?”

Jen looks flushed, she smiles. “You look beautiful,” she says softly.

Mum knocks on the door. “You ready? Jules has taken the twins to Elder to trick or treat. Did you know about the Halloween ban in the village?”

Jen nods. “Yep, just another perk of living in Learmonth.”

“Well, come on then, let’s get going. You don’t want your guests to get to the cottage before you do.” She pauses as if another thought has occurred to her. “They do know where it is, don’t they?”

Jen grins impishly. “Don’t worry, Mrs Learmonth. I set up markers earlier, glow in the dark arrows that point the way.”

I blink at her in surprise. “You didn’t tell me you were going to do that.”

It’s her turn to shrug.

Mum sighs in exasperation. “Well, come on. It’s all very well to be fashionably late, but not when your guests can’t get into the party without you.”

Jen is the first to stand and she offers me her hand with a mock bow. “Come, my princess. Your party awaits.”

I want to roll my eyes at her, but I can’t help but giggle.

Excitement mingled with terror stirs in my chest as we set out on our way.

We make our way through the woods, lit by tiny solar lamps that Jen must have planted during the day. Mum has a huge torch, but the moon is bright and we don’t stumble, we don’t stray. We make it to the cottage and the group of kids waiting outside, eager to be let in.

Oh dear! Surrounded by these young, jumping bodies I feel completely ancient. The music is too loud and some kind of thumping beat that makes no sense, tells no story. I’ve already broken up four little trysts and confiscated some alcohol, but I’m not naïve; I know they have more hidden away. If I find it I’ll take it, otherwise what can I do but shut it all down and spoil my baby’s night?

I catch her dancing with Jen. Her face is upturned, eyes closed and the biggest grin is on her lips. She’s happy, she’s so happy. It makes my chest hurt with pride because she is mine. I made her and she is beautiful. I want to rush over and enfold her in a hug, but I know better than to embarrass her like that in front of all her friends.

There is a crash from the kitchen area and I wind my way through the crowd to investigate. There’s a bowl of crisps on the floor. As soon as they see me approach, two lads get down and start to clean it up. I nod at them, keeping my face sombre and then turn away smiling. The disco lights flash and I see Jen’s face painted red-gold, then blue.

I need some air. I move toward the door, bumping into bodies as I go, smiling in apology, until I am finally outside breathing in the cool, crisp night air. I glance at my watch. Almost eleven p.m. I told Gemma she could have until midnight. The night has flown by. I’m glad it’s almost over. I’m knackered.

There’s an old rickety chair outside the cottage. I study it for a moment, wondering how rotten it is, wondering if I should risk sitting on it, and then I think, what the hell.

I gingerly slip onto it. Once sat, I exhale. The chair creaks, but holds and I relax. The cool air is suddenly warm, comforting like a cocoon. My eyes begin to droop. So tired, just one minute… I’ll close my eyes for one minute. As I lose myself to sleep, I hear a creak and feel the wind kiss my face.

“This shit is sick!” some guy I’ve seen around, but don’t know, shrieks in my face before bouncing off.

I burst out laughing. I’ve forgotten to be pissed off about the number of people who’ve turned up. It was supposed to be a small affair, but a party is a party, and a party in Learmonth in a cottage by the sea is a no miss. I’m still stunned by the turn out. It’s shocking. The cottage is rammed, and the party has spilled out back from where you can see the black and grey sea.

I should warn them about the cliff… Wait, I already did that, and there’s a railing so… The music changes to a track I love and I find a sudden burst of energy. I don’t usually dance. I’m a big girl, not fat, but just …big, but tonight amidst the crush of bodies, I feel positively minute.

I grin at Jen as we jump up and down. She grabs my face, shouting ‘I love you’ and plants a kiss smack bang on my lips. She pulls back, looking stunned, and I’m laughing real hard because its wild and her expression is hilarious, and then she joins me before pointing to the kitchen and mouthing drinks.

I nod and she is off.

A tap on my shoulder and I’m spinning round.

Justin grins down at me. I like that he has to look down on me. I like the fact that he is taller than me. I like his mouth, which is curled up slightly in a lopsided sexy way. His white hair gleams the colour of the rainbow in the disco lights.

“Dance with me!” I hold out my arms and he slips into them. Hip to hip, breast to chest we do the grinding thing. I lock eyes with him and the smile melts and I am on fire. We turn in a slow circle, in time to our own music. Everything is focused on our bodies, the many points of contact, the firmness of his biceps and the tautness of his abdomen under my fingers. I am exploring.

Jen’s face appears over his shoulder. She is clutching to paper cups, her eyes wide and filled with…disappointment. She’s turning away and pushing through the crowd until it swallows her whole.

I should go after her… I want to go after her, but the room is suddenly really hot, perspiration beads my forehead, heat pulsing between my legs. I want to kiss Justin, take his mouth and explore every crevice. I reach up and grab his neck, pulling his mouth to mine. His eyes are closed and I kiss him with everything I have, our tongues twining, our mouths impossibly wide. I want to devour him. I want to be him and it isn’t enough.

Fingers bite into my upper arms so hard. I gasp in pain, pull back confused, and Justin pushes me away, his face contorted in a confusion of his own.

The door behind me slams open and a gust of wind sweeps in, licking at the flames on my body.

The crowd stills and we turn almost as one to the doorway. There they are, framed by moonlight, lithe figures, guys and gals, dressed to kill in antlers and fur, hooves and claw. I take them in, my eyes settling on him, the object of my nightmares.

Sam.

The pulse of heat intensifies.

His mouth curves in a sadistic smile and it draws me to him. I open my arms, Justin forgotten. Sam steps into the room.

Now the party can really begin.

The air is filled with the scent of roses, heady and strong and intoxicating. I am in Sam’s arms. I am at the beach, lying on the sand, naked, burning up. Sam is on me his hands stoking the fire that claims me. I need this, I want this. This is all there is.

Let me in, let me in. Gemma, let me in. I need this, so hungry…

Yes, yes! I need him inside, deep inside, so far inside that he becomes a part of me.

“Gemma! Fucking get off her now!”

Something growls.

“Gemma! Justin! She’s here!”

The heat fades and ice takes it place. I struggle to open my eyes, to fight against the binds that hold me down, but they’re not binds, they’re hands and pinching fingers.

My eyes fly open and I see his face, grey and smooth, and the eyes; huge, dark eyes that suck at my soul, and I know who it is.

Something hits it from the side and I am free.

“Gemma! Get up, quickly!” Jen is pulling at me and I stand, shivering, naked.

Jen throws something over me.

“Justin, leave it! Come on!” Jen’s voice quivers, she’s afraid.

Justin cries out and Jen grabs my hand and screams. “Run!”

And I see it, Sam but not Sam, distorted, his arms too long, his jaw too wide. He rears up and looks at me, cocking his head.

I can’t move. I’m frozen.

“Please, please, Gemma, please.” Jen is crying and I still can’t move. “They’re coming, oh god they’re coming!”

I am at the beach…

I succeed in breaking eye contact with Sam and look out to sea. I see them, a group of shadowy figures, hunched and stocky, rising from the water. My paralysis breaks and I scream. I grip Jen’s hand and we run.