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Authors: Gayle Eileen Curtis

Shell House (21 page)

BOOK: Shell House
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Jonathan tucked his sister into bed, leaving Bruce lying on the rug on the floor beside her. Then he made his way downstairs to the kitchen to wait for the doctor, which was where he found Harry making tea.

       
“They won’t take her away will they?”

       
“No Dad, I’ll request she stays here unless Dr. Nobes thinks she’s a danger to herself.”

       
“Then what?”

       
“Well, then she’d have to go to hospital I’m afraid. It is a real and serious illness, Dad.”

       
“I realise that now. I’ve just never seen anything like it. I’ve heard of people having nervous breakdowns, of course, but I always passed it off as a bit of a cop out.”

       
“Lots of people think like that; you’re not the only one. It’s hard to understand mental illness because we’re so used to physical symptoms.” Jonathan leaned on the back of one of the kitchen chairs ready to answer the door. “She’ll probably be like that for a few days. Once Dr. Nobes has been I’ll nip home and check on Nancy, pick up some clothes and move in here for a bit. She needs to be kept an eye on.”

       
“Okay.” Harry warmed the teapot and emptied it in the sink, his mind somersaulting from one thought to the next. “Don’t leave Nancy by herself, will you? Bring her here.”

       
“She was staying at a friend’s last night Dad and its back to Uni tomorrow. She’s had half term remember?”

       
“Oh yes.” He nodded, trying to focus his mind on everyday things. He couldn’t keep up with her movements since she’d started university.

       
“Dad, please stop worrying − we can all sort ourselves out. Just concentrate on Gabrielle and yourself.”

       
A loud knock at the door told them Dr. Nobes had arrived.

       
“I’ll let him in. You can sort a bed out for Bruce; he’s quite clearly not going to budge from her side and I don’t want him making his way onto her bed.”

       
“He won’t get up on the bed, he’s far too old. That’s the first time I’ve seen him go upstairs in months; he barely moves from the kitchen these days. He’ll do what he wants and they’ll be no budging him, son.”

       
“I wonder who he gets that from. Animals shouldn’t be in the bedroom full stop, Dad. It’s unhygienic.”

       
Harry pulled a face at his son’s retreating back and wondered if Jonathan’s finicky foibles came from being a GP because he certainly didn’t get them from him or his mother. He sighed and fetched Bruce’s bed, knowing that he probably wouldn’t move from Gabrielle’s side and wouldn’t take a blind bit of notice of anyone else. Harry was just pleased he was protecting his little girl and if he wanted to lie in her bedroom or on the bed then so be it.

       
He said hello to the doctor as he passed him in the hall and made his way upstairs with Bruce’s bed. Gabrielle was fast asleep when he crept in and sure enough Bruce had managed to haul himself onto the bed beside her. Harry threw the dog bed in the corner. Bruce lifted his head from his paws and glanced at it before looking at Harry, and with a sigh resumed his former position and went back to sleep.

       
Harry could hear Jonathan and Dr. Nobes coming up the stairs, so he crept back out and left them all to it.

       
He went into the kitchen to clear up the cold scrambled eggs and breakfast things. He had to keep himself busy because he didn’t want idle time in which to think too much. Emma was very present in his mind and had been for the last few days. It was almost as though she were standing by his side watching over Gabrielle with him.

       
He knew he must keep Gabrielle at his house whatever it took and he felt so passionate about it that he didn’t care for the consequences. If it meant they stayed there, ostracised from the village, then so be it. He was going to look after his family if it was the last thing he did.

       
He began tidying up but his mind wandered again and he stopped what he was doing while he thought over the previous night’s events. He shuffled into the hall, his legs stiff from the frequent trips up and down the stairs. From where he was stood at the bottom of the stairs, he tried to listen to what was going on in the bedroom, but the door was too thick to enable the sound to carry. All he could hear were two deep, muffled voices.

       
He turned to go back into the kitchen and stopped to look at the telephone, his hand reaching for the receiver.   His stomach tightened and he pulled his hand away. He’d intended to call Bill and tell him what had happened but he realised it was more out of proving a point than wanting advice. Bill had been helpful and honest, but there was a harshness to his voice and Harry felt he’d been ever so slightly patronizing, as if he were talking to a disillusioned parent who couldn’t face up to the fact that his daughter was clearly a criminal. And he wouldn’t − because it wasn’t true.

       
Bill had been friendly enough but seemed to brush the subject off by talking about other things. What was supposed to be an advisory visit on a professional level had very quickly turned into a social one. It was after Bill had gone that Harry had reflected and then become rattled by his words.

       
So he decided not to ring him for fear of the same treatment and Harry didn’t want to seem churlish − the news would come out soon enough.

      
He shuffled back into the kitchen with the intention of washing the crockery up from earlier but he ended up staring out of the kitchen window, down the garden and to the sea in the distance. A vivid memory had appeared in his mind and he couldn’t recall what had triggered it. It was a memory he’d forgotten about for a very long time, and something that had happened not long before the incident with the Tailby’s children. He had no idea why it was visiting him now.

       
He had taken Gabrielle and Jonathan out for a walk. It was a beautiful area filled with patches of forest, not far from where they lived, but a place they had to drive to. It had a narrow track that ran along the cliff tops and wound around the forest. The cliffs overlooked more woodland area which had once, a very long time ago, been filled by the sea. He had often taken them there to walk the various gundogs he had at the time. During the holidays or at weekends, occasions when he had time, they would picnic there. The day he was remembering now was one when they had taken a picnic out with them. The weather was hot and there were blustery clouds masking the sun’s glare. He recalled it so clearly because it reminded him of Gabrielle’s mood. She had been skittish, excitable but slightly snappy that day. He was used to these interchangeable moods; ever since she was small she’d be crying one minute and laughing the next.

       
That day having finished their picnic and cleared everything away they began to play a game of hide and seek catch.

       
It was all going well, the dogs were barking, excited to be allowed to join in, and Harry, having found Jonathan was chasing him to the base point. Having been defeated due to the fact that Jonathan had had a head start, he began to look for Gabrielle. After a few minutes of not being able to find her he started to feel a panic rising in his chest. He’d always told them to stay close by and not to hide too far away. He’d called and called her but there was no sign of her. Normally when she heard him call she’d let out a snigger, unable to control her excitement. But that day there was nothing.

       
He’d begun to run around and around commanding his three dogs to find her. It was his eldest gundog, Pepper, who alerted him to her whereabouts. He could hear Jonathan in the distance, shouting for them to hurry up because he was bored, but Harry ignored him, still nervous at what he was going to find. A lack of noise from Gabrielle was telling him something was very, very wrong.

       
Eventually having followed the sound of Pepper whining and yapping he found Gabrielle in a small clearing a few hundred yards away from where they had been playing. She was kneeling on the ground with her back to him and, from what he could see she appeared to be cradling something in her hands. He called her but she didn’t answer him. Pepper began to bark again and he shouted to quieten her, but she replaced her yapping with a sorrowful whine; her head cocked to one side.

       
“Gabrielle, dear heart, what ever are you doing?” His voice had been filled with a mixture of relief and concern.

       
She’d eventually turned round as he walked towards her; she had the strangest look on her face. She’d raised her hands up to him and he focused on what she was cradling; it was a young dead rabbit.

       
“Oh my darling, you can’t rescue that, it’s dead. Put it down. Come on.” He crouched down beside her.

       
“I wasn’t going to rescue it. I put it out of its misery. I found it in a snare.”

       
As he looked closer he realised its head had come away from its body, she’d pulled the wire so hard. He still remembered the chill that had crept across his arms and up the back of his neck.

       
“Put it down, Gabrielle.” His voice had become stern.

       
She immediately dropped the rabbit’s head and body and stared at her blood stained hands, sticky and feathered with fur.

       
“Leave it!” He barked at Pepper who moved to pick up the remains.

        
“You’ve found me now, does it count?” She stood up holding her hands slightly away from her and began to run towards the place they’d chosen for base as if nothing had happened.

       
He didn’t run after her and when he’d caught her up he washed her hands silently with a spare flask of water he had for his dogs while Jonathan chattered on about the rabbit she’d found and how he wished it had been him. Harry nodded, trying not to show them there was anything worrying him. He knew Jonathan wouldn’t have been able to do anything like that. He’d taken him shooting and he couldn’t bear it when a bird needed finishing off. It was the calm way she’d reacted and the look on her face that had unnerved him.

       
The subject soon changed to the game they had played and Harry decided not to mention the incident with the rabbit until he was tucking Gabrielle into bed later that evening.

       
“Why did you kill that rabbit?”

       
“I didn’t kill it, it was already nearly dead. It was suffering so I put it out of its misery. You’re always telling us animals shouldn’t suffer.” She shrugged and reached for her book which was tucked under her pillow and began to read.

       
He kissed her goodnight and they never spoke of it again. It popped into his head frequently and after a short time he brushed it off as a normal act of kindness which was what he convinced himself it had been.

       
He was still lost in that memory when Jonathan brought him back to the present day by putting an arm around his shoulders.

       
“You were miles away, Dad.”

       
“Sorry. Just thinking that’s all.”

       
“Well, you can stop worrying. Dr. Nobes has given Gabrielle some medication to help her sleep for now and he has advised she stay put, but we must keep an eye on her. If she continues to behave strangely or we think she’s a danger to herself then we have to call him.”

       
“Oh...right. Does he want a cup of coffee?” Harry was still staring out of the window, his mind vaguely somewhere else.

       
“No Dad, he had to go − he had another call. Are you okay?”

       
“Yes.” He snapped. “What’s wrong with her?”

       
“He thinks she’s had a nervous breakdown. Not a major one though. Her mind’s just closed down for a bit.”

       
Harry turned from the window, pleased it wasn’t terribly serious but sad she was ill at all.

       
“Well, old bean, we must look after her.”

       
“Yes we must and I need to decide if I’m going to call the police.”

       
“Quite. It’s probably best done whilst she’s not aware of it.”

       
“I just need to get things clear in my head first; the implications.”

       
Harry nodded and began to make a fresh pot of coffee for them both. They spent the next couple of hours talking it all through in between checking on Gabrielle. Even though Harry had forgotten about his flashback, having something else to occupy him, it still niggled at the back of his mind as it had done all those years ago.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

        Gabrielle was conscious but couldn’t muster the energy to get up from her bed. What felt like a few hours to her was actually a few days.

       
She was fairly coherent to her father or Jonathan when they looked in on her but she had completely shut down. The world beyond the bedroom door seemed too frightening when she thought about it in the cold light of day. So for now, she was quite content to leave the world to continue without her for the time being; Bruce held a vigil by her side.

BOOK: Shell House
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