The Rattler (Rattler Trilogy Book 1) (18 page)

1

Zoe
closed the lid on the laptop. “I can’t believe that happened today,” she said,
sipping her coffee. She couldn’t take in what she had read. “I’m just so glad
we don’t still live there. The place is full of sickos, if you ask me,” replied
Vana, who had not lost any love for Helen. “Yeah, I agree, but no matter how
much she bullied me at school, I still wouldn’t have wished that on her.”

The
girls sat at the table thinking about Helen. It didn’t take them long to
contact former school friends via Facebook to talk about the horrific news. A
Facebook page was set up to remember Helen, and people pretended to write kind
things about her. Vana struggled to think of anything nice, so just reluctantly
posted –

R I P
.

Zoe
had mixed emotions; should she or shouldn’t she? In the end, she felt she had
to write something –
You hurt me back then, but you didn’t deserve to die
like that
.

2

The
lads returned from their run, and quickly showered whilst the girls ordered
pizza, which was delivered by the same delivery boy – with whom Vana continued
to flirt. The friends spent a quiet evening together. Zoe briefly mentioned her
trip to the Savoy. However, it was Helen’s horrific death that was top topic;
well, for Vana – she couldn’t stop bitching about her.

“She
certainly ticked all the boxes – good looks, boobs, and legs,” said Matthew, as
he browsed an article about Helen on his phone. “But, by the sound of it, her
mouth was a sewer. She’d be a classic example of a gag bird,” added Matthew.

“What?”
asked a confused
Vana.

“A
gag bird – you’d have to shut her up during sex,” replied her vulgar boyfriend.

3

Zoe
fell asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. Talking to Barbara had
helped her to relax, and even the shock of Helen’s horrific death did not
bother her too much – at first...

Vana,
on the other hand, felt quite awake, despite being shattered earlier. She lay
for a while, listening to her friend’s gentle
breathing,
and eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep – or did she? In the background
she could hear a faint thrumming which seemed to come from the landing. She
glanced over at Zoe who was still sleeping peacefully, got out of bed and crept
over to the doorway.

As
she quietly opened the door, the noise seemed to move. It drifted up the stairs
and appeared to waft over the ceiling. Vana cautiously followed the vibrations,
just pausing to switch on the landing light. She searched the whole of the
second floor; all seemed to be in order but, as she turned to go back down the
stairs, she could hear something else. A strange scratching, scraping sound
swirled around over her head.

“What
the effin’ hell is that?”

Vana,
being Vana, couldn’t let this go. She turned again and crept towards the attic.
The noises got louder and louder. She reached for the doorknob, paused, took a
deep breath and slowly pushed open the door. She walked into the dark room.
BANG! The door slammed behind her and, as her eyes became accustomed to the
darkness, she could make out a weird shape. She squinted.

There,
at the back of the attic, lurked a huge tarantula spider. The massive arachnid,
with its hairy body and legs, slowly and deliberately slithered towards a
terrified Vana. The fangs started to rub together, creating the scratching
noise that Vana had heard earlier. Suddenly, the spider shot out a very fine
strand of silk from its spinnerets, which spun around and around Vana, trapping
her and dragging her towards its fangs. She struggled and wrestled to break the
silk thread, but to no avail. The fangs were just about to slash her into
pieces when Vana awoke – drenched in sweat and gasping for breath.

4

As
Zoe slept, her thoughts turned subconsciously to Helen and her gang. Memories
were being dragged up from the darkest recesses of Zoe’s brain. It was
lunchtime and she was in the school canteen, along with a number of other
pupils from her year and the year above. Zoe joined the queue of hungry
teenagers. She was on her own as Chickenpox had temporarily wiped-out her
friends, Vana included. Zoe had already had the disease the previous year when
she developed telltale spots two weeks after her birthday bash – an
after
party
gift from one of the guests.

Zoe
looked at the food on offer – a tempting array lay in front of her – fish and
chips, lasagne, tuna and pasta bake, followed by chocolate pudding, or sponge
pudding topped with syrup. Of course, the school also put on healthy options;
there were plenty of salads, jacket potatoes with a variety of nutritious
fillings or fresh fruit, but today Zoe just wanted comfort food.

She
collected her crispy cod and chips and chocolate pudding, and found an empty
table in the corner, where she quietly enjoyed her lunch – until Helen and her
gang arrived. They each carried a tray holding small portions of salads and
fruit. Zoe’s heart sank as the bullies sat down.

“I
really, like, can’t believe you’re eating all that,”
smirked
Helen. “That’s right, you finish it all off like a good
Little Miss Piggy
.”
The tormentors started to laugh.

Zoe’s
appetite left her, and she hastily got up from the table, the girls’ sniggering
ringing in her ears. As tears ran down her face, she dashed to the toilets,
found an empty cubicle, and locked herself in.

Zoe
made herself sick; her long hair dangled in the water as she hovered over the
toilet. And when she’d no more to bring up, she sat on the floor and cried.
Those four bitches had destroyed her. They had changed a once fun-loving
teenager into a nervous wreck.

1

The
next morning, Vana was still asleep when Zoe woke up. She rubbed her eyes,
stretched, and lay there for a moment, thinking about the events of yesterday.
She sighed, got out of bed, and headed up to the bathroom.

As
she wandered up the stairs, her thoughts went back to when she woke up after
last night’s nightmare. She hated herself for what she had done. She had felt
so confident that she was going to beat this horrible Anorexia after her
session with Barbara – but, that was before she’d had the dream about Helen and
her gang. Just the mere mention of her name seemed to trigger things off, and
Zoe could not control the urge to make
herself
sick.

After
a long, hot shower, she dressed and went down to the kitchen where she was
eating a small slice of buttered toast when Vana surfaced.

“
I’m lovin’
the red eyes,” said Zoe.

“Don’t;
didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Bad nightmare?”

“I
was trapped in the attic, being eaten by a...”

“Let
me guess.
A spider?”

“Yeah, again; another scary
dream about being eaten by a spider.”
She sat down at the table and poured some cereal
into a bowl. “Do you fancy a short run this morning? It might help clear my
fuzzy head.”

“You’re
on.”

“Is
that all you’re having for breakfast?” Vana asked, as she pointed at the toast.
“I just feel so bloated with all that pizza,”
lied
Zoe.

2

Some
time later, the girls were running through Elm Park Gardens, iPhones duly
plugged in. Vana was listening to Kasabian, with the track
Underdog
currently
playing. Zoe favoured Adele, and was humming along to
Set Fire...

It
was a brilliant morning for a run through London; the sun shone but there was a
light breeze, just enough to keep them cool. Vana was full of energy and soon
started to set quite a strong pace, but Zoe struggled and was soon out of
breath.

The
girls were just running down Onslow Gardens, and had turned into Foulis Terrace
when Zoe started to feel dizzy and, as she was part-way along the street, she
collapsed onto the pavement. Vana was quite unaware of her friend’s predicament
as she was ahead of Zoe, and only realised when a young couple, on the other
side of the street, stopped and pointed at Zoe, by now sprawled semi-conscious,
with her face in the gutter.

Vana
rushed back to her friend, and started to slap her face in an effort to bring
her round. No response. “Zoe, please wake up! Please,”
said
Vana, who was distraught.
“HELP!
I NEED HELP!” In a
state of panic whilst trying to dial 999, Vana accidently took a photograph of
Zoe, capturing in the background a four-storey house which had a round, blue
disc on the wall. Despite Vana’s best efforts, constant hugs and words of
encouragement, Zoe was still unconscious. A small crowd soon gathered, and a
young man offered assistance and quickly put Zoe into the recovery position.
Fortunately, Vana could hear the ambulance’s sirens, and, within a few minutes
the paramedics had arrived. Jumping out of the vehicle, two men ran to Zoe’s
aid whilst the female driver parked the ambulance. “We’ll take it from here,
son. You’ve done
good
,” said a paramedic. “What’s her
name?”

“Zoe,”
said Vana, wiping tears from her face. As she sat beside her friend, memories
of the fateful day on the school netball court came flooding back into her
mind. History had repeated itself on a sun-baked Friday morning in Chelsea.

“Zoe,
can you hear me?” asked the paramedic.

3

Zoe
had been admitted to a side ward, and was hooked up to a drip and heart
monitor. The paramedics had managed to bring her round on the journey to the
hospital, and now, after being checked over by the doctors, she was exhausted
and resting in bed. Vana sat on a bench outside the hospital, her eyes swollen
with tears. She could not help but blame herself for Zoe’s current situation.

“Vana?”

Vana
looked up to see a smartly dressed man approaching the bench. Her red eyes
acknowledged him. “I’m sorry Carl, but I didn’t know who else to call.” Carl
sat beside Vana and gave her a comforting hug.

“Don’t
be; how is she?”

“They’ve
got her attached to all kinds of things in there.”

“What
are they saying it is?”

“Malnutrition
– and we both know what that means. And it’s entirely my fault,” she said.
Tears ran down her face. “You shouldn’t blame yourself,” he said, as he handed
Vana a tissue out of his pocket.

“But
I insisted we go running.”

“Vana,
it would’ve happened either way.”

“You’re
not going to tell Jim and Mary, are you?”

“Let’s
just see what the doctors say. We might not have to ruin their holiday. Come
on, lass, let’s go and see if she’s awake.” Carl put a sympathetic arm around
Vana’s shoulders as they walked into the hospital and along to Zoe’s room,
where she was still asleep. Vana sat on a chair next to the bed, and took hold
of Zoe’s cold hand.

“I
won’t be long,” said Carl, “I’m just nipping out to speak with the doctors.” He
walked out of the room and headed towards the nearby Nurses’ Station. “How can
I help you, sir?” a nurse asked, pleasantly. “Hello. Yes, can I speak to the
doctor looking after my niece, Zoe Johnson?” The nurse smiled and typed into
her computer. “I’ve just paged Dr Reilly. He’s the doctor overseeing your
niece. He’ll be in to see you shortly.” With that, Carl thanked the nurse, and
went back to the room.

“What
did they say?” asked Vana.

“Dr
Reilly’s on his way. Hopefully he shouldn’t be too long.”

4

“Where
the heck is Dr Reilly?” said Carl, as he checked his watch again for the third
time. “I won’t be a minute; I’m going to find out what’s happened to him.” As
Carl left the room, he was met by a white-coated man in his early 50s.

“Dr
Reilly?”

“Yes.”

“Zoe’s
uncle. How is she, doc?”

“Walk
with me.”

Carl
followed Dr Reilly into an empty room further down the corridor. The whole
family had been horrified by Zoe’s diagnosis four years ago, and he knew his sister
would be devastated if it happened all over again. “I’ve spent the last hour
browsing over her medical history,” started Dr Reilly, “and, I’m sorry to say,
she’s showing signs of a relapse.” This was not what Carl wanted to hear. “We
all believed she was well and truly over it.”

“And,
yes, that had been the case up ‘til now, but something in her life has
re-sparked her depression.”

“What
do you mean?”

“A
sudden change – it could be anything, for example a death in the family, or a
shock to her system.”

“The
only thing I can think of is that the family have just moved down to London
from Leeds. Could that be it?”
frowned
Carl.
“Possibly.
But I understood that she was already living down
here whilst studying at Oxford.”

“Her
friend, Vana, would no doubt have a better understanding of what might be going
on.”

“She
might be able to enlighten us, but the problem we’re facing is that patients
with Anorexia are very good at hiding their emotions.”

“What’s
the best way forward?”

“We
will have to keep her in, definitely tonight, to re-hydrate her and to monitor
the situation. I have already started her on a medication regime of
Fluoxetine...”

“Prozac?”
interrupted Carl.

“Yes.
According to her notes it helped last time, so we will see how she responds to
it now. I’ll prescribe a two-week course.” Carl thanked the doctor, and
returned to Zoe’s room, where Vana waited desperately for news.

“What
did he say?”

Carl
relayed the conversation to Vana, and asked if she had any idea what could have
caused Zoe’s relapse. Vana knew that Hagatha had something to do with it, but
was unsure as to how Carl would react to that. In the end, they both agreed
that only Zoe could answer the question.