The Rattler (Rattler Trilogy Book 1) (21 page)

1

Just
after lunch, Dr Reilly and Dr Clementine came in to see Zoe. They spent a long
time talking to her, and giving her encouragement to fight the Anorexia. Dr
Reilly explained again the Fluoxetine medication, and recommended that she take
20 mg twice a day. He knew that that prescription had helped previously, and
was hopeful it would work again. Dr Clementine had already spoken to Zoe about
the nutritional programme she had drawn up, and gave her instructions to follow
it for an initial period of two weeks, after which time it would be reviewed.

The
girls listened intently to the doctors’ instructions and guidance, then said
their thanks and good-byes to them.

2

An
hour later, the boys arrived to find Zoe sitting on the bed with her rucksack packed.
Vana was looking through the window. “You guys took your time,” said Vana,
grumpily. “We’ve been sitting here for ages.”

“Sorry, babe.
The traffic was bad.
You alright, Zoe?”
Zoe smiled. “Yep, and thanks for picking
us up.” She looked at Steven, who didn’t quite know what to say – it was
obvious he felt a little uncomfortable – and handed him her rucksack. “Come
on,” she said, “let’s get out of here.”

The
friends walked out of the hospital into bright sunlight, and headed towards the
car park and Matthew’s boy racer car. Despite it only having a 1.2 L engine, it
gave the impression, with its 17” wheels, big bore exhaust and lowered
suspension that it belonged on a race track!

3

Matthew
and Vana dropped Zoe and Steven off at the house he was sharing with Vana; he
had moved in when Zoe went back to live with her parents. Liz, the third
student in the house, had gone off to Poland to carry out research for her
postgraduate studies.
A postcard
advertising for Liz’s
replacement was displayed in the local Post Office but, so far, no takers.
Steven had shown an interest, but Vana wasn’t all that keen – she didn’t really
want to house-share with two lads.

Matthew
managed to find a parking space on Broad Street, and Vana hastily jumped out,
anxious to get into the Library before it closed. She just narrowly avoided
being knocked down by a flash saloon car being driven erratically by a male
driver.
“Making up for a small cock?
Slow down –
DICKHEAD!” she screamed at the driver. “You’re a bit highly strung aren’t you?”
said Matthew, putting his arm around her shoulders.

“I’m
fine. Hurry up. They close at half four.”

They
ran towards Oxford’s Old Bodleian Library, just as the rain started. “Hi,
Lucy,” called Vana, to a red-headed student who was sheltering from the shower.
“You OK?”

“Good,
thanks,” smiled Lucy, “just been studying for the next test.”

“Effin’ bollocks!
Again! How have I forgotten?
When is it?”

“Don’t
worry,
it’s not an official test – just a group one.
Anyway, must be on my way, email chat later?”

“Sounds good.”

“You
know, she’d be hot if she lost the glasses,” remarked Matthew, looking back at
Lucy. “Hey, you,” retorted Vana, “keep those wandering eyes on me – darling!
Anyway, you’re right, she would. She’s also a bit of a swat, but she’s useful.”
Matthew smiled. “I love winding you up. Right, tell me again why we’re here?”

“We
need to find out exactly what we’re dealing with. We are not going back to
Zoe’s house again without doing some research.” Matthew looked confused. “I’m
lost again. What are you talking about? What’s wrong with Zoe’s house?”

Neither
he nor Steven could remember anything that had happened during the spooky night
at Zoe’s.

4

After
swiping their university cards, Vana and Matthew entered the impressive building.
Despite it being late on Saturday afternoon, the place was still busy with
students milling around – some searching the shelves, and others sitting
quietly, reading ahead for their forthcoming seminars. The library was always
full of students because it was a reference library; the books could not be
borrowed.

Vana
knew exactly where she was heading as she had already done a quick on-line
search of the catalogue. The pair went to a small reading room, which contained
four mahogany desks, with reading lamps. The walls were wood panelled and
contained shelves of books of all shapes and sizes, dating back to the 17
^th
century. This was the Paranormal Section, and covered everything from early
witchcraft to modern-day ghost hunting.

Matthew
watched as Vana put on a pair of white gloves before she took two old volumes
from the shelves and placed them carefully on one of the desks.

“What
on earth are you looking for?”

“I’m
just checking something. Give me a minute.”

The
two books that Vana had selected were
Traveller’s Magic
by J C
Greenwich, and
The Origins of Witchcraft
by A P Peppers. The first book
was leather bound, with a Celtic cross entwined with twisting branches and
leaves on the front cover. It was full of research covering gypsy magic and
curses. Peppers’ book contained witchcraft and spells, and had a Pagan symbol
of a Pentacle on the front cover.

“Where
the heck is it?” muttered Vana as she searched for another book. “It should be
on this shelf – Pantel, Parkinson, Peckmore... but no more Peppers.”

“Come
on, babe,” nagged Matthew, “is this going to take long? I’m getting bored now.”

“Please
bear with me,” she replied, turning on the lamp. She started to flick through
The
Origins of Witchcraft
and was soon gripped with the writing and diagrams.
She quickly read the spells from the relevant sections before taking
photographs of them, and then moved onto the next book.

“Come
on, babe.
How much longer?”

“I’m
almost done. Give me a break – this is important.”

Matthew
got up from his chair, smiled, and moved over to Vana. He stood in front of
her, and started to undo his shirt buttons.
“Bloomin’ heck!
Not now, Matthew,” groaned Vana, totally engrossed in the book. He took no
notice and continued stripping. Vana laughed. His attempts at library sex soon
halted when they heard crisp footsteps echoing in the corridor. Vana’s neck
hairs slowly raised as the door opened. A small, elderly lady, dressed in plain
colourless clothes, and wearing glasses – popped her head into the room.

“Don’t
forget we are closing in ten minutes, dear. I hope you found what you were
looking for? If not, I will be around for the next few minutes.” With that, she
pulled the door closed behind her as she left the room. “Yes, hang on – excuse
me,” started Vana. She followed her out into the corridor. “There appears to be
a book missing...”

No
reply. The corridor was empty, but there was a strange, musty scent wafting
around.

1

Sunday
dawned – a bright, sunny start to the day, and Vana was making toast in the
small kitchen when Zoe walked in. “Morning, someone’s up early,” said Zoe,
putting on the kettle. Vana sat at the table. “Well, when Matt wakes up I find
it difficult to nod back off again,” she replied, with a mouth full of toast.
“Their morning run?” asked Zoe, Vana nodded.

“Hey,
that reminds me,” said Zoe, “where did you two sneak off to last night?”

“We
stopped off at the library.”

“The library?
What for?”

“Research, of course.”

“Vana,
I don’t know if it’s the drugs, but my head’s out there,” she said as she
pointed to a small yard, “
looking
in through the
window; you’ve lost me.” Zoe carried a bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee over
to the table and sat down. “What were you researching?”

“You
know – how the fuck we’re going to get rid of your adopted grandmother.” Zoe
displayed a blank expression.
“Oh her.”
Vana placed
her right hand on Zoe’s forearm. “We’ll get through this.” Zoe just smiled, her
mind wandered briefly, and then she continued to enjoy her breakfast. “Well,
you’ve gained my interest. What did you find out?”

“I
could only find two books that seemed to be of any help. And they both talked
about the same thing on banishing them...” Zoe interrupted, “which is?” she
asked, rolling her left fingers. “You must get rid of everything from the area
that belonged to that person,” replied Vana, drinking her tea.

“But
we’ve already done that, and she’s still around the place. What else did they
say?”

“Only
one option remains...”

“And
that is?”

“Having a vicar or priest bless
the house.”
Zoe frowned, a look of anxiety on her face. Vana continued. “I know, before you
say anything, I have thought about this – we’ve got to at least try. It really
is simple; we just attend today’s Sunday Service at the local church and then
approach the vicar afterwards.” Zoe nodded. “OK. You’re right, we do need help.
What time does the service start?” she asked, scraping the final drops of milk
from the bowl.

“According to the internet,
9.30.”

Zoe
checked her watch; it was 8.51 am. “OK let’s do it. I’ll be ready in ten,” she
said, placing her bowl and cup in the sink.

2

The
church was a small, old, cold building – traditionally built in the shape of a
cross, with no more than 12 pews on either side of the centre aisle. As the
girls walked towards the altar, Vana stared intently at Jesus on the Cross.
Sunlight flooded in through two ornately decorated stained-glass windows
depicting Mary and baby Jesus.

The
congregation was mostly the middle-aged and the elderly. There weren’t any
teenagers taking up positions in the pews; the only young folk in attendance
had been dragged there by their parents. Vana and Zoe sat down next to an old
lady, dressed in a purple full length skirt, with a matching jacket. “I absolutely
love your brooch,” said Vana, as her eyes marvelled at a diamond encrusted
silver harp pinned to the lady’s jacket. In turn, the lady shone the whitest
false teeth grin the girls had ever seen. “Thanks dear; it’s wonderful to see
some younger faces joining us today,” she said, joyfully.

The
service lasted a little under 40 minutes, with the usual hymn singing and
sermons. The only two teenagers in the church secretly enjoyed the uplifting
experience. What Vana did notice was an elderly lady, dressed to the nines,
sitting alone at the back of the church. Throughout the duration of the service
she was constantly wiping tears that streamed down her face. Vana guessed that
she’d recently been widowed. It was whilst she looked at her that a dark shadow
flew behind the lady and hid behind a stone pillar. Vana rubbed her eyes, and
then stared back at the lady, who suddenly stood up, and walked towards the
exit. Had something or someone spooked her?

3

Vana
and Zoe remained seated until the last few members of the congregation had
chatted, shook hands with Reverend Carmichael, and left. It was only then that
they calmly approached him; he winked and smiled as they came close. Zoe, in
particular, looked nervous; he knew instantly that something was bothering her.
“Please tell me what is troubling you my dears?” he said, as he ushered them
towards a pew. Vana told him what had happened during the course of the week
and the vicar sat there, listening intently, nodding his head in encouragement.
This wasn’t the first time he’d heard ghost stories. He, himself, had had an
experience when he was ten years old, and he knew what bad spirits were capable
of doing. By the time Vana had finished talking Zoe was in a flood of tears.
Vana handed her a packet of pocket tissues.

“Don’t
worry Zoe,” reassured Carmichael, as he held her hand, “I will help you. How
are the lads you mentioned taking it?”

“That’s
the problem; they can’t remember a damned thing!” Vana paused to look at
Carmichael, who smiled. She carried on. “Sorry. It’s as if they’ve blocked the
event from their memory.”

“From
what I’ve read, and going off my own experiences, some people have that
reaction; the mind can’t distinguish between what’s real and what’s fiction.
From the sound of it, it’s probably best they keep it that way. I suggest you
refrain from talking about the subject with them. Then, once the evil has moved
on – and if their memories do return – at least the atmosphere will be at
peace.”

“How
can we get rid of her?” asked Zoe, wiping her eyes. “Give me one minute,” he
said, before walking into a side room next to the front door which housed the
usual cleaning materials, along with cardboard boxes containing scented candles
and wooden crosses which were all neatly stacked on metal shelves. He opened a box,
and took out three small crosses. As he did, he noticed a damp, musty smell
lingering in the air.

4

Vana
was comforting Zoe by the time Carmichael returned. “I don’t think the curse is
broken, and, it seems to me, something that belongs to her is still in the
house. I believe it’s this item that’s producing the negative energy that
resides in the property, and it’s probably this
negativity
that’s caused
you to become unwell, Zoe.”

“That’s
impossible! We only found the painting,” interrupted Vana. “That may well turn
out to be the case, but with her appearing to the police officers, I can only
believe she’s still in the house,” said Carmichael, making eye contact with
each of them in turn, “and it is for that reason I shall bless these crosses
for you, and pray for both of your families.”

Carmichael
took the girls’ hands, placed them together and then put the crosses on top.
“Now, I want you to keep one cross on your person – it can be on a chain or in
a pocket – and one is to be hung in the affected house. There is an evil out
there that only the select few can see, but these should offer you some
protection. Hopefully you should notice a difference in the atmosphere, but if
nothing changes I want you to give me a call.” He took out two business cards from
his pocket.

“Thank
you,” the girls replied.

5

“Vana,
you know, when Reverend Carmichael took hold of our hands did you feel a...”

“I
know exactly what you’re going to say,” replied Vana. “My hands were boiling,
and they felt as if they were on fire.”

“Mine
too.”

“Right,
it’s payback time – let’s get rid of the bitch,” said an upbeat Vana.

Carmichael
watched, thoughtfully, as the girls walked down the path, arm-in-arm. He
frowned – the story of the travellers had triggered a memory.