Please Release Me (15 page)

Peter was glad he’d made the effort to come to visit Val. He sat on her sofa, drinking a hot chocolate with a splash of whiskey in it. Val sat opposite him, telling him about the kids. She looked tired and puffy and much older than she had done before her son was born. Peter had just peeped in to have a look at the sleeping children. He couldn’t believe he’d managed to miss his nephew’s arrival so completely.

‘So,’ said Val, pulling a blanket around her knees. ‘Tell me what’s going on with you.’

‘How much is mum telling you?’

Val rolled her eyes. ‘You’re not eating properly. She’s worried you’re withdrawing from the world.’ She examined him for a moment. ‘I thought she was exaggerating, but you are looking a bit scraggly and thin.’

Peter smiled. ‘And I need a haircut. I know.’

‘She says Sally’s condition hasn’t changed.’

‘No.’ He sipped his hot drink and felt the warmth burn down his throat. It reminded him of Glenda.

‘So what has?’

‘Pardon?’

‘Why are you here, Peter? You haven’t bothered to come and see us for nearly a year and suddenly, you turn up. You’re so keen not to break your date that you turn up late. It must be something important. So what is it?’ Ah, good old Val. Always to the point.

‘I did want to see you, you know. And the kids. It’s just that life got in the way.’

‘Yeah, yeah. I get that. And …’

Val knew him so well. He glanced at her over his mug and wondered how she would judge him if he told her.

‘What have you done?’ said Val. ‘I know that look.’

He told her. About volunteering to help at the hospice just to get his parents off his back. About Grace. About what happened between them.

Val stared at him. ‘Woah. Peter! I didn’t think you had it in you. You were always the goody two shoes in the family.’

‘Val …’

‘You were. It was all “why can’t you be sensible, like Peter” when we were kids. Mum would have a fit if she knew you’d been shagging some woman from the hospice.’

‘I’m not. It was only a kiss. I didn’t sleep with her.’ Just. ‘And I feel terrible about it.’

‘You didn’t tell her that, did you?’

Had he? He thought about how he’d avoided Grace and how their last encounter had ended with her just running away. ‘Not … in so many words.’

‘Poor girl. Imagine how she must feel. Married man leads her on, then goes back to his wife. Honestly.’

‘I didn’t mean … I like Grace. I really like Grace. But I’m married to Sally and …’

‘And you’re stuck with her,’ Val finished off for him. ‘Well, it was always going to be the way, wasn’t it?’

‘What do you mean by that?’ He had assumed that Val would like Sally once she accepted that he was serious about her. Sally had certainly liked Val.

Val was quiet for a moment, frowning as though she were wrestling with some internal argument. Finally, she sighed. ‘You know I never really thought she was very good for you. I figured you’d realise that eventually, but by then it would be too late.’

‘Not good for me?’ He thought of the gambling problem and the lies that were slowly coming to light. Sally had her faults, but she had been working so hard on changing.

‘I hate to say this, but I think she was after your money.’

Peter laughed. ‘I don’t have that kind of money.’

‘No, but you were an investment. You’ve already done well with one company. You’re well on your way to setting up another successful business. It was only a matter of time before you make a fortune.’

‘I could get unlucky and lose everything.’ It was a gamble. His heart dropped a little. Sally liked a gamble.

Val rolled her eyes. ‘How likely is that? I know you, little brother. You will have carefully invested in a lot of different pots.’

She had a point. He took after his father when it came to money. Careful and measured. The only thing he’d ever done spontaneously was to fall in love with Sally. He looked at the floor. That and kissing Grace. Clearly spontaneous didn’t always suit him.

Val changed tack. ‘Tell me about this Grace woman.’

He told her. As he spoke, he felt a fresh wash of guilt and longing. He had messed things up with Grace and he should be ashamed of himself. The trouble was, he missed her. He missed talking to her and he kept daydreaming about her when he should be working. He longed to see her again, but wasn’t sure he could trust himself to maintain his distance if he did. He’d thought life was at its worst six months ago, but he’d been wrong. The strain and the heartache was still there, but now he’d added extra guilt. He only had himself to blame.

Sally was leaning against the door frame, listening to the nurses gossiping, when Peter walked through her. He went straight to the thermostat and shook his head. She’d given up trying to speak to him, or even teasing him by blowing cool air on his cheek. She waited for him to sit down, but he remained standing.

He went up to her bed and stared down at the sleeping woman. He looked … strange. It wasn’t an expression she’d seen on him before. She’d seen happy, confused, baffled, even ecstatic, but not this. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked angry. Except her Peter never got angry. Certainly not with her.

Peter said nothing for the longest time. Sally sat in the middle of her comatose body and swung her legs over. ‘So, Peter darling. What’s new?’ She lay next to her body and looked up at him. ‘You never look at me the way you used to,’ she said. ‘In fact, it’s like you look right through me.’

She examined him from her viewpoint. He looked even older today. She’s chosen to marry him because of his averageness. Attractive enough to sleep with, but not so devastatingly attractive that other women would fight her for him. Now he looked old. The scar on his forehead didn’t do anything for his looks either. ‘You’ve let yourself go, darling,’ she said. ‘When I come back, we’re going to have to fix that. A bit of cover up on that scar wound sort out the worst of it. And a decent haircut. Of course, I’d have to grow my hair back properly. We know how you like to run your fingers through it.’ She touched the set in lacquer wedding hair-do she was still wearing. She couldn’t feel it. ‘Mind you, I’d quite like to run my fingers through my hair right now. It’s very annoying having it up like this.’ She reached up and tried to touch his hand.

Peter shivered and sighed. His face softened. ‘Sally,’ he said. ‘Why did you lie to me? You swore there was nothing else you hadn’t told me.’ He pulled up the chair and sank into it.

Oh. He’d found out about that other loan. ‘It had meant to be short term. I was going to pay it back within a couple of months of the wedding.’ She was going to claim she’d done some shopping or something and pay it off on one of his credit cards.

She shrugged. It was only a few hundred quid. Not a big deal. She would have won it back in no time. ‘There’s lots of shit I haven’t told you, you idiot. You’re so trusting, you never thought anyone would lie to you. How your business associates don’t hoodwink you, I have no idea.’

Peter put his head in his hands for a moment before sighing again and looking up. ‘You didn’t have to lie to me. I would have understood. I don’t know what it’s like to have grown up with an alcoholic parent, but I would have tried to understand. We could have helped her, like I helped you.’

‘What?’ Sally sat bolt upright. ‘What alcoholic parent? I don’t have an alcoholic parent. What are you on about?’

How the hell had he found out about her mother? Glenda must have broken her promise and talked to Peter. She should have known better than to trust a bloody alkie. ‘I’ll bloody kill her.’

‘We could have taken her to Alcoholics Anonymous.’ Peter continued talking. ‘We could have helped her beat it. It’s an addiction. There’s things that can be done to help. Just like Gamblers Anonymous helped you.’

‘And you know all about addiction do you? You think you can just drag someone to some limp wristed support group and then voila, everything’s better. You think addiction is just a bad habit you can drop? Like giving up chocolate? I’ve got news for you, Peter. It’s not like that in the real world. It’s all very well for you, with your mum that cooks you food all week and your dad with his golf buddies. You’ve never had to find your old man hanging from the banister because he couldn’t bring in enough money to pay the rent.’

Peter sighed again. ‘I can’t help wondering,’ he said, staring at the body in the bed. ‘What else you’ve lied to me about. She said she came to see you on our wedding day. You never said. She’s my mother in law. Didn’t you think I should have the right to meet her?’

‘No. Even I don’t want to bloody meet her. She just won’t go away. Like a bad smell.’

‘I feel like I don’t know you any more.’

‘Well, darling, you don’t. Not a bit. What’s more, I don’t think you ever did want to know me. You just wanted your bit of fluff wife. So long as you had the long hair to play with and the body to shag, I’m sure you were all right. I would have kept the house for you and cultivated your contacts and we’d have both been happy. Just wait until I get my body back. I’m going to show Glenda what happens when she interferes.’

Peter was silent for a while longer. Sally jumped off the bed and paced. What had her mother told Peter? He was clearly upset about whatever it was. Every so often, she glanced at him. He was still staring at the body in the bed. Sally resumed pacing. There had to be a way to find out what Glenda had told him.

Peter stood up. ‘I’m sorry Sally. I have to go.’ He blew a kiss to the woman on the bed and strode out, pulling his jacket tighter as he went.

Sally stared after him. His head was bowed. She went back into her room and sat on the bed. This was not good. When she got her body to wake up, she needed Peter to still be in love with her. She needed to do something. The only way she was going to get anything done, was by enlisting Grace’s help. ‘Well that’s just bloody awesome, isn’t it?’

Grace was on her knees, painting a skirting board when Sally popped up behind her. She was so used to it now, that she didn’t even jump. ‘Hi,’ she said, not taking her eyes off her brush.

Sally paced, her big wedding skirts swishing around her as she walked. Grace sat up and put her brush down. ‘What’s up?’

‘My mother went to see Peter.’ More pacing.

Grace went back over what she knew about Sally. She knew her father had killed himself. The horror of that explained a lot about Sally’s need to pursue a dream. But her mother? Sally rarely mentioned her mother. Grace had assumed her mother was dead, but clearly, she wasn’t. ‘I didn’t know your mum was living around here,’ she said, carefully.

Sally swung round. ‘I don’t like to talk about her. She’s … awful. I’d rather pretend she wasn’t around.’

Grace thought about her own mother and felt a pang of sadness for the time she’d had with her. She couldn’t imagine having her mother and ignoring her. ‘Why?’

‘You have to help me. I need to know what she said to Peter.’

Grace shook her head. ‘I don’t understand. You don’t want your husband to know about your mother? I can understand you don’t get on with her, but to pretend she doesn’t exist? That’s just not normal.’

‘But you’ll help me, right?’ said Sally

‘No. Not until you explain.’

Sally gave a theatrical sigh. ‘Fine.’ She sank to the floor in a pouf of wedding dress.

Grace slid the lid back onto the paint tin and settled to listen. Sally started talking. She told Grace about her mother. And her father. And about a small posy of forget-me-nots.

The neighbourhood was one Grace had never been to before. The tidy suburban front gardens had given way to places with wonky garden fences and weedy tangles. There were cars with no tyres and rotting sofas where flower beds should have been.

‘Are you sure about this?’ Grace’s whole body was tense. As she drove along the road, avoiding as many pot holes as she could, people turned to look at her. She half expected a brick though the windscreen any minute.

Sally was waiting for her outside a crumbling Victorian house with a garden that looked like the Congo. Grace pulled in, hoping the crunching under the wheels was caused by gravel and not broken glass. She checked she hadn’t left anything lying around in the car before she got out to stand next to Sally.

Sally was looking at the house, her shoulders set as though she were psyching herself up to go in. ‘Now, do you remember what to say?’

‘I’m looking for Glenda and I have a message for her from the other side,’ said Grace.

‘Don’t let her talk you round to her side. She is the most convincing liar I’ve ever met. She can talk anyone against anyone. She pretty much drove my Dad to suicide. When he finally caved in and killed himself, she was all “oh no, poor me. I can’t live without him”.’ Sally went towards the door, delicately lifting her feet to avoid the dog excrement on the path. ‘She only started drinking so that she could hang out in bars to meet another man.’

Grace manoeuvred her way along the path, watching where she placed her feet. She had been reluctant to get involved with whatever this was that Sally was doing, but after a half an hour of being cajoled, pleaded with and pouted at, she’d agreed to go with Sally, just to get a bit of peace.

Sally waited for Grace to reach the broken doorstep. ‘Ready?’

Grace nodded. Sally’s relationship with her mother seemed to be a very confused one. Her own life had been so sheltered and loved. Sally’s life, she realised, was about as different from her own as it was possible to get. She rang the bell. The noise sounded strained, as though the bell chime was being strangled.

The door opened and a skinny girl in a vest top and shorts stared out at them with wide, vacant eyes. She seemed to look right through Grace.

‘Hi. I’m … er … looking for Glenda …’ Grace noticed the girl’s hugely dilated pupils. Either she’d been somewhere very dark indeed, or she was stoned. Given her expression, Grace was willing to bet it was the latter.

The girl didn’t reply, just walked unsteadily back into the house, leaving the door wide open.

Grace looked at Sally, who shrugged. Grace stepped into the house. The smell smacked her in the face. It smelled of damp and stale food and marijuana. But overlaying it was the smell of air freshener, which made it all the more sickly. Swallowing down the urge to gag, Grace ventured into the hall.

‘Glenda is upstairs on the left,’ said Sally. ‘Come on.’

She led the way up. The windows above the stairwell shed a smoky sort of light in the gloom. Grace whispered ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘I’ve been here before,’ said Sally. ‘Of course I’m sure. This is Glenda’s room.’ Sally’s eyes gleamed. Her face was set in a hard scowl. The combination of the expression, the wedding dress and the fact that she was standing through a cardboard box left on the landing, made Sally look downright sinister. Grace shuddered.

‘Well, what are you waiting for? Knock,’ Sally said.

Grace raised an eyebrow. She was doing Sally a favour being here. ‘Pardon?’

Sally rolled her eyes. ‘Please.’

Grace nodded and rapped on the wooden door. There was a pause and someone rustled inside. Sally gave a tut and marched through the door before it was opened, leaving Grace on the landing alone.

‘Hey—’ Grace was interrupted when the door opened and a pair of watery eyes looked out. ‘Oh. Hi.’

‘Who are you? What do you want?’ The voice that went with the eyes seemed watery too.

‘Um … Glenda? My name’s Grace. I’m a friend of Sally’s. I need to talk to you.’

Glenda looked her up and down and let her in.

The first thing that Grace noticed was how empty the room was. There was a bed, a chair and some blankets. Not even a pillow. A coin operated heater in a corner seemed to be the only source of heat. Sally was looking at the mantelpiece where there was a photo of a family and a collection of empty bottles.

‘What do you want from me?’ Glenda sat down on the bed.

‘It’s a bit difficult to describe,’ said Grace. ‘I have … a message from Sally. She wants to talk to you.’

‘Oh my god. She died?’ What little colour there was in Glenda’s face drained away. ‘I didn’t see a notice in the paper. Peter promised he’d put an obituary in the
Times
. Did it only happen today?’

Grace looked at Sally for help. She didn’t like to lie to this woman. Sally made encouraging motions with her hands. ‘It’s … difficult to explain. I … can hear her.’ There. She’d not actually said Sally was dead.

Glenda stared at her for a moment before her face cleared. ‘Oh. You’re a medium.’

To Grace, the noun medium was synonymous with charlatan, but this was probably the best way to help Glenda understand. She sighed. ‘Yes. I suppose you could describe me as that.’

Glenda looked her up and down. ‘Don’t get me wrong, darling, but you don’t look like a medium.’

‘No. I don’t. The point is, Sally has some questions.’

‘I mean, there’s usually jewellery and stuff. And more … floaty clothes. I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a medium in jeans.’

Grace shot Sally another plea for help. ‘Tell me something that only you know.’

‘Is she here?’ Glenda followed Grace’s gaze. ‘Sal? Are you there? Really?’ She raised her eyes to the ceiling, as though expecting Sally to be floating up there.

‘Don’t call me Sal. I bloody hate being called Sal.’

‘She says, please don’t call her Sal,’ said Grace. ‘I think she prefers Sally.’

Glenda’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Yes. She does. Oh Sally, it is you!’

Okay, so Sally’s mother was fairly gullible. ‘Yes. It’s her.’ Grace listened as Sally came up with a tirade of expletives.

‘She wants to know why you went to see Peter,’ Grace said, when Sally stopped. ‘I’ve removed a few swear words there, in case you thought it was too clean.’

‘She did like to swear, did Sal … I mean, Sally,’ said Glenda.

‘Stop referring to me in the past tense,’ said Sally. ‘I’m not bloody dead.’ She shot a glare at Grace. ‘Do NOT repeat that.’

‘Anyway, the answer to the question?’ Grace prompted Glenda. This could go on for a while and she didn’t really want to leave the car outside for too long.

‘I was worried. She’s my daughter. I hadn’t seen her come or go from the house for a year. I watched all night, sometimes. All I saw was Peter. So I eventually worked up the courage to go and ask him what happened. I worry,’ said Glenda. ‘I love her.’

Sally gave a loud ‘Hah’. Grace ignored her. ‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’ She asked Glenda gently. ‘Why are you and Sally not on friendly terms anymore?’ She’d heard Sally’s side of the story. She was curious to know Glenda’s.

Glenda sighed. ‘We were happy, once. We really were. But then he lost his job.’ She spread her hands. ‘He thought he was failing us … and he started to borrow money and couldn’t pay it back. In the end he just couldn’t face it.’ Her face was a picture of misery. Grace felt sorry for her.

‘Don’t listen to her sob story,’ said Sally. ‘She made him feel like crap. She used to come home and not talk to him all evening. He tried and tried and she didn’t give him anything to hold on to. No wonder he gave up. She knew he was borrowing money. All she had to do was go and talk to her sodding parents and they would have bailed us out. But no. She was too bloody proud for that. She cared more about her pride than she did about us.’

‘I think Sally wants to know why you didn’t go to your parents for help.’ Grace frantically tried to fill in the gaps. Were Glenda’s parents rich? Had she married against their wishes?

Glenda looked down at her hands. ‘I did. When Sally was at school and he was out looking for work. I went twice. Both times they wouldn’t let me in the door.’

Sally stopped mid curse. ‘I didn’t know that.’

‘I loved him,’ said Grace. ‘I genuinely did. He and Sally were the centre of my world.’

‘That’s a load of bollocks,’ said Sally.

The door opened and the stoned girl from before walked in. ‘Glenda. There’s some visitors for you. They’re downstairs … oh. How did you get up here?’ She swayed a little on her feet.

‘Thanks, Chloe.’ Glenda made a little shooing motion to get the girl to leave the room.

‘Are you going to a wedding?’ said the girl, looking at where Sally was standing. ‘I want a big dress like that when I get married.’

Sally’s eyes widened. ‘You can see me?’

‘Durr, yeah. You look a bit weird though. The way you’re all faint at the edges. How’d you do that?’ She took a step closer.

Glenda looked from the girl to Grace and back again. ‘Wh—?’

Grace opened her mouth to speak, but Sally silenced her with an upraised hand. ‘You can see me,’ she said to the girl. She put her hand out and touched the girl’s face.

‘That tickles.’

‘You don’t feel cold?’ said Grace. Her mind was whirring. This girl was clearly stoned out of her mind. Perhaps she was able to comprehend all those things that the normal brain filtered out in order to be able to function normally. The professional in her tried to rationalise things. Perhaps this could lead to an explanation as to how Sally was visible to her.

‘A bit cold.’ The girl wriggled. ‘Stop it, it tickles. Ohh.’ Sally had just put and arm through her stomach. ‘That’s weeeeeird.’

Sally’s eyes narrowed. ‘I wonder.’ She stepped behind the girl and put her hands on her shoulders.

‘Sally, what are you doing?’ Grace didn’t like Sally’s expression. There was determination and something like malice in it.

‘An experiment.’ Sally stepped forward and disappeared. The girl’s eyes shot wider and then she fell over.

‘Oh my god.’ Grace sprang forward.

‘What happened?’ said Glenda. ‘Don’t worry about her, she’s always falling over. Has something happened to Sally?’

The girl lifted up her head. ‘Sorry about that. Not sure I can work the legs.’ She sounded different somehow. It was the same voice but the tone and cadences were different. No slurring, for a start. Her head turned slowly to look at Glenda.

‘Sally?’ said Glenda. ‘Sally, is that you?’

‘Of course it’s me, you stupid bat. Your idiot friend couldn’t string a sentence together, could she?’ the girl said in Sally’s voice. ‘Why don’t you tell her the truth about you and Dad?’

‘But I did,’ said Glenda, speaking to the girl on the floor as though it was completely normal for someone to take over someone else’s body. ‘When Patrick died, I just couldn’t bear it. I felt I’d lost my main reason for living. I married him for love. I left everything for him. I would have done it all again to have him and Sally back.’

‘That’s not even remotely true!’ The girl’s head turned unsteadily to look at Grace. ‘She left me to cope with everything after Dad snuffed himself. I was fourteen, for Christ’s sake. She was supposed to be looking after me. She could barely look after herself. And then she started drinking. So I had another thing to worry about.’

‘I’m not strong like you, Sally. I couldn’t cope. I would have come out of it, eventually, but there wasn’t time.’

‘Well, I did okay without you. I’ve built myself a life and the last thing I need is you poking your drunken nose in and ruining it. You stay away from my Peter, or I swear to god I’ll make you sorry.’

Glenda let out wail and buried her head in her hands. The poor woman was clearly in anguish. Grace took in the pallor of the girl who was currently hosting Sally. What was the process doing to her? Could Sally hurt her host?

‘Sally,’ said Grace, as authoritatively as she could. ‘If you haven’t got anything constructive to say, perhaps we should leave that girl alone.’

‘You can sod off and all,’ said Sally.

‘Not unless I take you with me,’ said Grace. She couldn’t leave these poor women with an angry ghost. If Sally figured out how to use the girl’s limbs there was no telling what she might do to Glenda. ‘I think you’ve made your feelings perfectly clear to your mother. Now, please leave that girl’s body alone. I’m worried that you’ll damage her. She doesn’t look good.’

Sally said nothing. The girl’s body twitched. The eyes rolled back, leaving just the whites showing.

‘Sally, get out. If she dies …’

A sort of growl left the girl and suddenly, Sally was standing over her. ‘Fine. Just make that bitch promise never to come sniffing around my husband again.’ She pointed a finger at her mother.

Grace knelt on the floor and checked the girl’s pulse. It was slow, but clear. She patted her on the cheek. ‘Wake up. Come on.’ When the girl failed to respond, she gave her a sharp slap. The girl’s eyes flew open. She stared at Grace for a moment before focus returned.

‘Woo. That was some strong stuff,’ the girl murmured. ‘Cooool.’

Grace wondered what she should do next. The girl put a hand on her chest and breathed deeply. After a minute or so, struggled into a sitting position. ‘You got any food on ya?’

All right. If she had the munchies, she was probably going to be okay. Now to deal with the other two. Sally was still shouting and Glenda still sobbing. Grace put a hand on Glenda’s shoulder and passed on a toned down version of Sally’s message. ‘We’re going now,’ she added. ‘I won’t come back again, but Sally might.’ She stood up, ignoring Sally’s glare. ‘She can only go to places she’s been before, so you may want to move out of this room. And tell your friend the same. It may not be safe for her otherwise.’

By the time Grace got back to her place, Sally was already there, pacing around the kitchen.

‘What was that all about?’ said Grace. ‘I thought you said you wanted to make things better between you and your mother.’

‘Oh, come on. You didn’t buy that sob story she gave you? She’s always doing that. Whenever I need to talk to her about something, she turns it round and makes it all about her.’