The Thirteenth (2 page)

“Can I help you?” he grinned.

Val tried talking, but nothing seemed to be coming out of her mouth, other than “ah” and that really wasn’t what she wanted to say. She wondered if she could run away, but her legs were firmly rooted to the spot. “I’m Shane and this is my tattoo parlour,” he said slowly, as if Val wasn’t quite with it. He offered his hand and she shook it, thinking how small hers was in comparison.

“If you ever want to come in please feel free.” Shane released her hand and started to walk off just as Val managed to get her voice back.

“What is it?” she blurted.

“Sorry?” Shane said turning back towards her.

“What is that tattoo?”

He pointed to the zodiac and she nodded. “That, my friend, is a zodiac circle.” Shane raised an eyebrow. “People say it bestows on the owner the power of the universe, to rule over all mankind and bend minds to your will.” Shane nodded at her with a completely serious face.

“Really?” said Val dubiously, searching his eyes for the truth.

“No, it just costs £50 and hurts a lot.” Shane laughed and walked off.

Val was blushing; she could feel the heat in her cheeks. How could she have made such a fool of herself?

Val knew that her parents would be devastated if she came home with an atrocity like that on her arm. So why did she feel so drawn to it even now as she walked away?

Although seeing the strange image had allowed her to forget the pain in her arm for a few minutes, it was still there. She tried to push it to the back of her mind and started to walk briskly to work.

On a bronze plaque on the splendid front wall of the bookshop, were etched the words ‘
Established by Mr Wallace Frederick Gallymore 1945’.
She imagined that the shop, like its owner, had looked the same since the beginning of time.

Val rang the bell and waited patiently while Wallace slowly opened the door’s many locks. He seemed like a nice man although definitely elderly. Val wasn’t sure how old he was. She had made a bet with her mum that he was at least a hundred.

“Good morning,” she wished him in a singsong voice.

“Not on time; not a good start,” Wallace grunted.

Val apologised as she moved past him, noticing that he smelt, as well as looked, a hundred. “The bus was delayed; I promise it won’t happen again.”

Wallace huffed as he walked back past her. She repaid him with her famous
please let me off
smile.

“Don’t make a habit of it. Now, I have to go away for an urgent meeting for the next few days so I need to trust you to run my business efficiently and with the same capability as you offered in your interview, Miss Saunders.”

“Please, call me Val, Mr Gallymore,” she said in the hope that this would break the ice.

“No thank you, Miss Saunders. Work is work and first names are for family only.” Wallace smoothed his perfectly groomed white hair with a crooked hand.

“Yes, Mr Gallymore.” Val gave up at this point, knowing she was onto a loser.

“You know what is expected of you. I have a very high turnover for an establishment of this calibre so prepare to be busy.” Wallace walked around her, eyeing her up and down. She felt like a soldier on parade.

“Ready to go.” Val moved behind the high wooden counter pretending to bow. Ignoring her attempt at humour, Wallace passed her the biggest bunch of keys she had ever seen; she would need a new handbag if she was expected to carry these around.

“Lock up at five p.m. exactly. The code for the alarm is sixteen forty-five. Can you remember that?”

Val wondered if this was Wallace’s date of birth. “No problem,” she responded, unsuccessfully trying to choke back laughter.

“No there won’t be,” he said in a very firm voice.

Doing her best to compose herself, she wished him a good journey and told him not to worry, she was a very trustworthy person.

Wallace nodded, and then walked out of the shop, looking behind him and giving her a look that said ‘set it on fire and I will find you.’

As the bell rang behind him, Val felt the excitement of having her first
paid
summer job. Relieved that Wallace had gone, she let out a little squeal and she started spinning around like a very clumsy ballerina.

Then it dawned on her she had just been dumped on, on her first day, in her first five minutes. She pulled the phone out of her pocket and called her mum.

“Mum, he’s left me on my own,” Val whined. “Yes I know I will be okay, but what if something goes wrong?” She nodded as Susan gave her the responsibility talk. “Yes, I will call you if I have any problems. Okay, bye.”

Feeling a bit better, Val put the phone back into her pocket. Her mum was right. What could possibly go wrong in a bookshop?

As she moved up and down the aisles investigating, she noticed how deceptive the shop was from the outside. It was a true Aladdin’s cave and seemed to go on forever. The wooden counter seemed to melt into the shop and every shelf and door seemed to fit together perfectly, almost as if it was all from one tree. Val was sure that there must be ecological repercussions from the amount of wood that surrounded her.

As she walked down the aisles, she passed her fingers gently over the top of the books. Suddenly she felt a sharp stabbing in her hand. When she looked down, she was shocked to see her finger resting on a book with exactly the same symbol as the one she had seen in the window of the tattoo parlour.

She took her finger away, feeling quite unnerved to see the same image twice in one day. She reached forward to pick it off the shelf, but stopped when the silence was broken by a sharp, trilling sound. It was her mobile. She pulled it from her pocket, giggling to herself when she saw the name
Delta
flashing on the front.

“Bonjour,” Val chirped, opening the phone.

“Don’t be silly!” You don’t sound authentic at all. You would just be kicked out of France, no questions asked. Stop, while you still have some dignity left.”

Val laughed and started to make her way back to the desk, where she could see if any customers arrived.

“Now then, my British friend, how are you?”

Val had missed Delta and her wonderful American accent so much. Delta Troughton was an exact replica of Barbie and had been Val’s best friend since her father had purchased a summer home that Val’s dad had built. It was just down the road from Val’s home so every summer holiday, Val and Delta spent time together. Slowly they had become inseparable summer pals.

Val always felt a warm glow when she spoke to Delta; it was like being wrapped in your favourite blanket and eating marshmallow. She leaned on the till and asked, “OK, pretty princess, when are you getting your Yankee butt over here?”

“Well, sorry to say I won’t be at your party to hit your precious piñata, unlucky for me,
not
,” Delta responded sarcastically. “But I will be there soon to come and taunt you in your amazing new job as the sexy librarian.”

“Thanks mate. Well, I won’t keep you. I’m sure your Chihuahua needs a walk or a credit card is in need of using. By the way, if you want to know what to buy me, a big handbag would be great. I’ll explain why when I see you.”

The line went dead. Delta was the worst person Val knew for just dropping the line. She never ever said goodbye.

She put her mobile back in her pocket, trying to remember what she had been doing before the call. “Ah yes, the book.”

She turned to go back to the shelf, but soon realised that she wasn’t even sure which aisle she had been in when she found the book. Val felt slightly annoyed with herself, but she had the whole summer to look for the book; unless someone bought it, it wasn’t going anywhere.

Val spent the next few minutes exploring the shop trying to get her bearings, eventually finding her way back to the front of the shop. That was when she noticed the water cooler. It seemed slightly dated and Val wasn’t sure how long the water had been there. She made a mental note to stick to her bottle of juice for now.

Making her way around the counter she noticed for the first time how very old it was and how the wood smelt as though years of beeswax had been caringly applied. It was obviously very good quality. Having a builder for a dad made her notice these things. There was a door behind the counter, which she assumed led to Wallace’s office. One of the many keys would probably fit the lock, although she wasn’t really interested in entering as it had a huge PRIVATE sign on it. She had spotted the toilets near the back of the shop so felt she knew all the places that really mattered.

Grabbing a duster from the cleaning box behind the counter she set about cleaning, and imagining what tomorrow’s family-organised, eighteenth birthday disaster would be like. In a lot of ways she was actually looking forward to turning eighteen, not just for the freedom it brought, but because she felt ready, and had a strong feeling that her time was coming.

The hours seemed to drag. Although a few people came in to browse, she achieved very few sales: not exactly what she wanted for her first day. She tried to stay positive and hoped that tomorrow, when she would be a more mature sales woman of eighteen, would be substantially better.

Val locked up at exactly five, as Wallace had instructed; she didn’t want to find him hiding behind the street sign waiting for her to come out five seconds early. As she stepped out onto the pavement, she felt the same strange sensation that she had felt that morning, as if she was being watched. She looked around her, but there was only what she assumed was the usual rush hour hubbub of people and traffic.

Then it hit her: pain, so hard and intense that it made her fall to her knees in the doorway of the shop. She wanted to scream but nothing would come out. It was as if God himself had sent a lightning bolt out of the sky and scored a bull’s-eye.

While Val crouched, trembling in the doorway, she was very aware that no one was trying to help her; they looked from the corner of their eyes but moved on quickly in the bustle of passers-by. After a few minutes, Val knew that she had to stand up or she was going to miss her bus. Leaning on the door, she pulled herself to her feet, perspiration pouring down her back. What was happening to her?

She began to walk slowly towards her stop. She couldn’t miss her bus; it was the last one that went anywhere near her house. As she made her way down the road, people made it even more obvious that she was behaving oddly, and probably looking strange. One woman was kind enough to pull her screaming toddler onto the other side of the path.

Val eventually managed to get to the bus stop where she lowered herself shakily onto a graffiti-covered green plastic bench. An elderly woman sitting at the opposite end stared blatantly at her. Val threw her a smile, at which point the woman
tutted
in disgust, stood up and walked towards an elderly gentleman, obviously looking for protection from the weird, sweaty girl.

Val really didn’t care; she was in too much pain. All she knew was that she needed to get home and quickly. So much for growing up! All she wanted to do was fall into her mum’s arms and be looked after. She was breathing deeply as she got onto the bus and the conductor frowned at her as she took her ticket, then watched her closely as moved as far back as she could. Val imagined this was more in concern for his upholstery than for her well-being. She fell onto a vacant seat, trying not to attract too much attention to herself, although that was quite hard as she now felt as if she had just climbed out of a swimming pool.

“Come on, come on,” she murmured under her breath. Val couldn’t remember a time in her life when she had been more desperate to get home. She stepped off the bus, knowing she was nearly home and finding the reserves of strength to increase her pace to a slow trot. She had never felt so elated to see her street. Outside her house, she gave a last burst of energy and charged across the grass towards the front door crying out, “Mum? Dad?”

The overwhelming feelings she had been keeping in during her journey home now came flooding out. She called out again and banged on the door to no avail, then collapsed weeping onto the front step convinced that she couldn’t move another inch, but no one was coming to let her in, so she was going to have to.

She managed to stand and pushing her key into the front door, every movement causing another wave of pain. The door swung open. Val stumbled into the hall, then collapsed, and still there was no answer to her cries. “Mum, please, I need you.”

Making a huge effort, Val pulled herself up and staggered towards the kitchen. On the table was a note; she was so disorientated that she could hardly make sense of it.

‘We have decided to go out; your dinner is in the microwave. See you later honey, love M & D’
.

“No!” Val whimpered. She couldn’t believe this was happening. What should she do? Call an ambulance? No, that would be ridiculous. She just needed to get to bed, and it would all be OK when Mum got home. She climbed the stairs slowly, then made her way down the landing to her room. She went straight to her bed and fell onto it, facedown, unable to take off her clothes or pull the covers over her. Within minutes she slipped into a restless, troubled sleep.

Her dream was so vivid that she could actually see the fog, feel the damp ground and smell the trees. The scene was the same as before, but this time, instead of being blown back by the powerful light, the woman seemed to move through it. Val could see a circle of men and women holding hands. There was a small break in the circle. The man and woman on either side of the gap seemed to be waiting for her. She reached out to grab their hands, as if she was the missing link.

As she reached for them she heard a wailing bleep coming from behind her. The noise stopped her from grabbing the woman’s hand and she felt as if she was being pulled backwards. The din was getting beyond a joke as she turned towards it in anger.

“Oh my God, the pain!” Val shouted, waking up as she fell off the bed and hit the floor. It was unbearable. She felt like her flesh was on fire. Jumping clumsily to her feet Val felt slightly foolish; it was her eighteenth birthday and she had started it by doing something she hadn’t done since she was six years old.