P.N.E. (The Wolfblood Prophecies Book 4) (22 page)

Ali was just down the corridor in the Library when Jo eventually found her. Apart from Ali, the room was empty. As Jo walked in her mother went over to one of the book shelves. She looked around as if she sensed someone’s presence, but didn’t seem to notice Jo standing right by her.

Jo hardly knew how to begin. ‘Hi! I’m your future daughter!’ just cried out for lengthy explanations. Jo cleared her throat, tapped Ali on the shoulder and said simply, ‘I’m sorry to trouble you, but…’

She got no further as Ali, oblivious, happily humming
Mr Tambourine Man
moved to a different shelf.

Jo tried again but Ali did not respond. Realisation dawned.
She can’t see or hear me!
Suddenly other things fell into place. The jostling in the queue; the courting couple in the gondola; the lack of a reflection in the Mirror Maze.
And neither can anyone else!
Maybe emping will work
.

Jo concentrated her thoughts, just as her mother had taught her when she was little.
Mary Montgomery needs your help!
There was no response.
Seems like Matthew and I can emp each other, but not anyone from the past. So if emping’s out,
I’ll have to write a note.

Jo moved towards the table where Ali had been sitting. Her distinctive patchwork bag was hanging on the back of the chair.

As Jo searched in her pockets for a pen and paper, her fingers closed on an old cloth-bound book.
The Whale
. Had stealing it brought about nuclear war? Matthew didn’t think so, but Jo was not so sure. Perhaps if she returned it to its rightful owner the future might not be so bleak.

She slipped it into Ali’s bag. Ali would be surprised to find it after all these years, and very puzzled as to how it ended up in her bag, but that couldn’t be helped. Jo permitted herself a small smile at the thought of her mother’s face when she saw the book again, but the smile was short-lived when she remembered that somehow Lethe ended up with it anyway.

As Jo searched wildly for something to write with, Ali came back and sat down. Open on the table in front of her was a colourful, painted tobacco tin, just like Quinn’s. Jo saw a bright red ticket from the Tunnel of Love, some locks of copper hair and an envelope. Ali took out a letter which had clearly been read many times before. Jo saw the words
To my dear daughter, from her loving Dad
but there was no time to read the rest of it. She tried emping again.
Help Mary!

Ali looked puzzled, as though she had heard something, but the moment passed. She folded the letter carefully and put it back in the tin. As she touched the red ticket she smiled dreamily. Jo wondered fleetingly how her mother’s tin had ended up years later in Quinn’s shop. She remembered Ali talking about being with him in the Tunnel of Love.

Quinn and I, well, for a time, we found it totally compelling. That’s the thing about being in love. Everything seems wonderful and magical. All your senses are enchanted and enhanced. I have never experienced anything so romantic. It was no ordinary fairground ride.

Mary’s eyes looked haunted as she realised Lethe was not going to stop. Lethe did not want to win just the battle – she intended to win the war. Mary braced herself for the next onslaught.

‘I have been concerned that Professor Jamieson is still mourning the terrible loss of his family, particularly here; so close to where the accident happened. Did you know I was there that day? My dear father died, protecting my stupid sister. I wish it had been the other way round. Like Professor Jamieson, I was bereaved. I share his pain. I have tried, in my way, to comfort him. I know him to be a lover of beauty, so one evening I went to his study with a bottle of wine, and I danced for him. Imagine my shock when he misunderstood my motives, and thought I was inviting his advances!’

Mary looked as if she had been winded. Her dignity deserted her. ‘What lies are you spinning now, you evil little bitch?’ she gasped.

‘I’m sure the Principal is a man of the world – he would understand that a lonely, sad man would be tempted by a beautiful, innocent young woman. I would plead for clemency, because I am very fond of Professor Jamieson, but in the end the Principal would have no choice but to dismiss him. After all, attempted rape is a serious offence, and your dear Matthew – or is that Midge? - would leave with his reputation in tatters. So tragic.’

‘You are an unscrupulous liar, Miss Lake.’

‘I am also a very good one, Miss Montgomery.’

‘They say practice makes perfect. So cut to the chase. What is it you want?’

‘Probably the same thing as you – to put all this unpleasantness behind us and forget any of this ever happened. Am I right?’

Matthew‘s heart missed a beat as he finally realised how Lethe had broken Mary by using her love for him. He clearly saw the trap Lethe was setting. Now was the moment to change things; to foil her plans. He desperately emped Mary.

Mary! Don’t let her in! Don’t agree!

Both Mary and Lethe looked puzzled for an instant, as if a faint, faraway noise had caught their attention. Matthew tried shouting a warning then banged on the window, no longer caring if he was discovered, but his words went unheard as Mary answered with cold anger.

‘You are wrong about so many things, but yes, you are right about that.  Because of you and your vile research my head is filled with images and ideas I would prefer to forget completely.’

Lethe smiled triumphantly. ‘Thank you so much!’

Mary looked puzzled. ‘Why are you thanking me?’

‘For participating in another of my experiments. Just recently I discovered that I have the ability to bestow forgetfulness on those who ask. You just asked. In a very short time everything that happened here will fade into oblivion, and anything that relates to it. I imagine it will feel rather strange, like living in a twilight zone. If only I could question you about it afterwards, but of course, you won’t remember a thing. You might feel a little faint at first… In time your academic prowess will be a laughing stock and your objections to my research will lack credibility. You will be nothing more than a vague memory. No–one will remember you.’

There was a blackboard in the library, but no chalk. Jo pulled a piece of scrap paper from the waste-paper basket and searched wildly for something to write with. Almost weeping with gratitude she spotted an old biro under the librarian’s table, but her relief was short-lived. The pen had run out of ink. In her frustration Jo flung it across the room, but Ali, lost in thought, noticed nothing.

Ali closed the lid of the tin and put it into her patchwork bag. Her hand strayed to the locket round her neck; the self-same one Jo was wearing. Paul had only recently given it to her and she still delighted in touching it, thinking of the women who had worn it before her. She pressed the little catch and the hearts opened. There was a picture of her laughing with Paul on one side. Ali thought for a moment, then reached for the tin again and took out one of the copper curls, kissed it, and put it in the other side of the locket. ‘Oh, Dad,’ she said softly, and her face was sad.

‘I was his favourite.’ Lethe’s voice was full of spite. No-one had noticed her come in. She seemed out of breath and her eyes glittered with triumph. Jo felt utterly defeated. She realised it was too late to stop Lethe destroying Mary’s life.

‘Oh, give it a rest, Lethe. He loved us both.’

‘I know that. But he loved me more.’

Ali sounded weary. ‘Why do you always do this? You compete with me about everything. You do it with our family; our friends; even Professor Jamieson…’

As if on cue Matthew arrived; breathless and frantic; his eyes wild with worry. Unlike his older self, who knew exactly what was happening, this Matthew was completely bewildered.

‘Alithea! Thank goodness! There’s something wrong with Mary – I mean, Miss Montgomery. She appears to have lost her memory. My ability alone is not sufficient to undo what has happened. Maybe together we can succeed.’

Ali sprang to her feet, knocking her bag to the floor as she did so. She glared at her sister. ‘Is this your doing?’ she demanded.

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ drawled Lethe.

Ali looked dubious but let it drop. She turned to Matthew. ‘Where is Miss Montgomery?’

‘I’m not sure. I found her in her lab and she didn’t seem to recognise me or remember anything. I tried talking to her, but she looked terrified, knocked me over and ran away. Now I can’t find her anywhere. ’

As Ali followed Professor Jamieson to the door a thought struck her. She turned to Lethe. ‘I’m supposed to meet Paul later. In case I’m held up…’ She scribbled a message and folded it over. ’Could you make yourself useful for once and put this note in his pigeon-hole?’

‘It will be my pleasure,’ purred Lethe. ‘You ask so graciously.’

‘Thank you,’ Ali muttered grudgingly, and followed an increasingly impatient Professor Jamieson.

It was obvious that Lethe couldn’t see Jo either. Confident that she was alone, Lethe gingerly picked up Ali’s patchwork bag and looked inside. She opened the tobacco tin and read her father’s letter to Ali, her face tightening. She found Ali’s pen and carefully copying Zachary Lake’s handwriting, vindictively added
Lethe
after
my dear daughter
, then put it back in the envelope. 

As she rummaged in Ali’s bag she was surprised to find
The Whale.
Her eyes danced with mischief as she wrote in the flyleaf, then slipped the book into her own elegant Courrèges bag.

Then Lethe read the slip of paper Ali had given her. It read:
Meet me by moonlight where the willow weeps and the river bends.

For a moment she was lost in thought, then laughing to herself, she tucked it into her pocket, found another scrap of paper, and using Ali’s pen carefully wrote
Meet me at sunset where the willow weeps and the river bends.

Finally her gaze fell on the reviled rainbow scarf. A look of cunning calculation crossed her face, and with a malicious smile she put it in her bag, along with the despised perfume, and set off to deliver Ali’s message.

Chapter Fourteen - The River

The sun was setting in a blaze of gold and crimson. The air was warm and still; fragrant with the perfume of vanilla and cherry pie from the white and violet heliotrope flowers that grew in abundance near the elm grove. Luminous green fireflies darted in the shadows, shining like the stars that were appearing in the evening sky.

‘I’m going to have a snooze for an hour,’ announced Matthew. Since his failure to avert Mary Montgomery’s fate he looked old and tired. He tried to summon up some enthusiasm. ‘Then when it’s properly dark, we’ll go exploring. Find out what skulduggery Titus is up to.’

‘I know I’m not a mighty brain,’ said Jo tentatively, ‘but since no-one can see us we don’t have to wait until dark. We could go now.’

‘Technically you’re right, of course, but however illogical it is, I’d be happier to act under cover of darkness. In addition, I am not as young as I was, so I need a nap. Why don’t you get some rest as well?’

‘I’m not sleepy,’ replied Jo. ‘I think I’ll go for a walk. It’s a beautiful evening.’

‘Don’t wander too far,’ warned Matthew. ‘It will soon be dark and we don’t have a torch.’

‘It’s a full moon. I’ll be fine,’ replied Jo, and she set off purposefully. She knew exactly where she wanted to go. She was almost completely resigned to the probability that she couldn’t change a thing, but that didn’t stop her hoping.

She could see the river ahead, reflecting the glorious colours of the sunset. She took one of several narrow, twisting paths leading down to the river bank. It was the sound of sobbing that led her off the path into the trees.

Curled up on the ground lay Mary Montgomery, trembling and child-like. Her face was full of fear and bewilderment. She started when she saw Jo.

‘Leave me alone!’

Jo was taken aback. ‘You can see me?’ she queried, realising too late that her response would only add to Mary’s confusion.

There was just a flash of the old Mary. ‘Unfortunately. You look just like her…’ then the fog returned.

‘But I’m not her! I’m your friend!’

Mary stared at Jo, her eyes dull and uncomprehending. ‘What’s happening to me?’ she said, almost to herself.

Jo moved closer. ‘I know someone who can help,’ she said. ‘Please come with me…’ She stretched out her hand to help Mary to her feet.

‘Don’t touch me!’ Mary sprang up like a wild animal, knocking Jo to the ground. Jo landed awkwardly. By the time she struggled up, winded and grazed, Mary was gone.

The encounter with Mary meant Jo took longer than she expected to locate the magnificent willow tree. It was silhouetted against the rapidly darkening sky; its graceful branches cascading to the ground.  She could hear two people laughing and talking softly.

‘Red roses and champagne, Paul! So romantic!’

‘I wanted tonight to be special, Ali.’

‘It was wonderful.’

Paul spoke hesitantly. ‘I was surprised… I thought you wanted to wait…’

‘Are you sorry?’

‘God, no! Not at all. I’m even more certain that we are meant to be together. So I need to ask you properly…’

Paul never finished his sentence. Someone crashed angrily through the bushes and swore loudly.

‘Lethe – what in hell’s name are you playing at?’

Paul laughed. ‘Hey, Quinn – don’t lose it, man. You’ve got it all wrong. This is Ali, not Lethe. I have no idea where Lethe is.’

Quinn’s voice was grim. ‘Well, I do. She’s right here buttoning her bloody blouse and Ali is with Professor Jamieson. I just met them looking for Miss Montgomery.’

Paul laughed again, but there was an edge of anxiety. ‘Wrong way round, man. Tell him, sweetheart.’

‘Don’t waste your breath, Lethe.’ Quinn’s words were icy. ‘You might fool Paul but you don’t fool me. You really are a piece of work.’

‘You’re way out of line,’ protested Paul, but Quinn ignored him.

‘I’ve been such an idiot. You never really wanted me, did you? You just want whatever Ali has. If she had yellow fever, you’d want it too. Well, she’s worth a dozen of you. Biggest mistake of my life when I dumped her for you. Paul, you’re a lucky bastard. Don’t blow it, man. As for you, Lethe, you’re a total bitch and we’re through.’

With that, Quinn strode away, seething with rage and hurt. In the moonlight Jo could just make out that he was carrying a picnic basket, champagne and strings of fairy lights.

Paul’s voice was uneasy but he still refused to accept Quinn’s version of events. ‘Ali, we’d better find Lethe and warn her so she can sort this out.’

Just then another voice could be heard calling. ‘Paul! Are you still there?’

‘What the …? That sounds like Ali.’ Paul spoke slowly, his voice laced with dread as realisation finally dawned. ‘Oh my God. Quinn was right! What have we done?’

Lethe laughed. ‘Made wild, passionate love, darling. Oh, I almost forgot. Ali asked me to give you this note…’

Paul looked as if he’d met an avalanche head on. ‘You set me up, Lethe. Ali’s scarf – her perfume…  Why the hell would you do that?’

‘Pure pleasure, Paul. On so many levels. I have seen, to quote Melville,
the tiger heart that pants beneath
your placid exterior. Unlike my dear sister, who thinks you are a gentle lap cat.’

‘Are you going to tell her?’ Paul was distraught.

‘Are you? I suppose you could confess – and break her heart. Why don’t we keep it as our little secret? I promise I will never, ever breathe a word, unless you are foolish enough to make me really cross. I don’t advise that.’

There was the sound of someone pushing through the foliage. ‘I took the wrong path,’ called Ali, much closer now.

‘Time I wasn’t here. Must fly. Oh – you’d better take this hideous scarf. Tell her you found it in the library. It will explain why you smell of patchouli. I’m sure she’ll appreciate the roses, and I think there’s some champagne left. Enjoy
The Whale!
Bye, lover-boy.’

A minute or so after Lethe had vanished into the shadows Ali appeared. She stood in a pool of moonlight, luminous and lovely, wearing a gauzy silver beaded shawl over a midnight blue dress sprinkled with tiny starry silver sequins. Jo had never seen her look so beautiful or so happy.

‘I’m glad you’re still here, Paul … sorry I’m so late! Miss Montgomery’s not well and I was helping Professor Jamieson look for her. He’s very worried about her.’ Ali chattered away, not noticing how silent Paul was. ‘Sweetheart, I am so sorry about this afternoon. Come here.’

There was a pause, during which Ali kissed Paul passionately. As they sank to the ground Jo could no longer see them. She was about to tiptoe away when she heard her mother gasp with surprise. ‘Good Lord!
The Whale
! Where on earth did that come from? I lost that book years ago! I always thought Lethe nicked it.’

Jo could sense her father’s desperation. Wisely he opted for something very like the truth. ‘She did. She pretended it was hers and gave it to me,’ he mumbled, his voice wretched.

‘Bloody cheek! Typical Lethe. Too tight to buy her own presents.’ Ali was too happy to be downcast for long. ‘Oh, I see you’ve started on the champagne, my impatient Romeo. And what beautiful roses. I take back everything I said, Paul. This is so romantic!’

Jo stumbled away feeling sick to her stomach. She hated being a helpless observer. It seemed there was nothing she or Matthew could do to change the course of events.

It was too painful to think of her parents’ joy betrayed so completely by Lethe. Jo veered wildly between thinking that, on the one hand, Paul should never reveal what had happened and on the other, he should trust Ali with the truth and should make a clean breast of it. She could dimly sense the hell he was in, caught between terrible truth and dreadful deception. Each time Jo opted for truth she saw again her mother’s innocent, joyful face and realised Paul was incapable of cruelly ruining her happiness that night by revealing the trap Lethe had set. Maybe it would be easier another time.

However hard she tried, Jo could not fathom her aunt’s behaviour. Meanness on such a scale was breath-taking, yet somehow pointless. What on earth did Lethe want, other than to punish Ali for the death of their father by spoiling everything she loved? Such cruelty was beyond Jo’s comprehension. As she struggled with understanding Lethe’s motivation, something nagged at the edge of Jo’s memory. An image came first – a huge silver dragonfly – no – a helicopter, with her aunt, shot and bleeding, near death, dangling broken from a rope ladder. And the message she believed to be her dying words:
Jo, you have a brother. You have to find him. Find your brother
. 

Now Jo began to understand. Lethe didn’t want Paul She wanted Paul’s child. She was hell-bent on creating a chimera, pandering to Titus’s quest for the prophesied Child of Glory. Paul just happened to fit the bill. Betraying her sister was a bonus.

Jo’s mind was racing now, remembering all she had heard about the brother she had never known. Somewhere along the line Ali had discovered the truth about Lethe’s sexual entrapment of Paul. Jo had no idea when that had happened. She could only imagine how terrible the discovery of the seduction and conception must have been for Ali. She remembered overhearing a bitter quarrel between her aunt and her mother.

‘You are hardly fit to lecture me on child-rearing, Lethe. Your record in that area is abysmal. What kind of mother rejects her own baby?’

‘The child was sub-standard. I had no choice.’

‘Of course you had a choice. And there was nothing wrong with your baby.’

‘Your narrow terms of reference limit your understanding. The child was a mistake, and the father I selected was, on consideration, inadequate in every way.’

‘You bitch. You bloody bitch.’

With all her heart Jo wished she could have spared her parents such pain and loss. For her part, she thought she would have enjoyed growing up with her half-brother. Sometime she felt keenly the loss, before birth, of her twin.

Perhaps if I’d reached the tree earlier
she agonised.
Maybe I could have stopped them.
Then she remembered
The Whale.
All her efforts to use the book to change the future were in vain.