An Impossible Dilemma: A Psychological Thriller Novel, page 10
As we pulled up at the sty, the pigs went berserk. They even climbed on top of each other to get closer to us and the food.
Once again my stomach lurched as I heard the wet slopping sounds of the meat slapping onto the ground. The deafening grunts and screams of the pigs as they fought to get their share. I shook and my knees began to fold.
I shut my eyes tight and clamped my hands over my ears, but it didn’t make the experience any less traumatic. My imagination filled in the gaps and in my mind’s eye I saw a huge pig chomping down on a foot. My memory added the overgrown yellow toenails and clump of ginger hair at the base of the big toe.
I gave up my breakfast down the side of the sty wall.
Chapter 14
“I don’t know about you, Frank, but I’m gagging for a cup of tea,” I said, opening the front door.
“You’re not kidding. You’ve worked me like a horse today, lass,” Frank smiled.
“You love it,” I bantered.
“I do, actually,” he said. “Not felt this good in a while if I’m honest.”
“There you go then, stop bloody moanin’.” I winked at him and he chuckled.
The phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Hello, Mrs Lyons. Rosemary Jackson here, head mistress at Emily’s school.”
“Oh, hi. What’s wrong? Is Emily sick?” I stopped breathing as I waited for her reply. Frank stood in the doorway, his eyebrows wrinkled together and one hand at his throat.
“No she’s fine, but I do need to speak to you about Emily. I wonder if you could come in a little earlier today for a chat?”
“Yes of course. What time?” My heart raced.
“Say two-forty-five?”
“Okay. See you then.” I hung up.
Frank stepped forward. “What was that all about?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know, some problem at school. Emily’s fine though. The head teacher wants to see me this afternoon.”
Alex came in behind Frank.
Alex had been doing most of the work around the farm these past two weeks. Frank and I mainly organised the feeding of the animals. Except for this morning, when several cows had broken through a fence and we had to help round them up.
With me being probably the only vet in the world to be scared of cows and Frank hobbling about on his new walking stick, it had been a sight to behold.
“Right you two, how does ham sandwiches washed down with copious amounts of tea sound?”
“Sounds like heaven. I’m starving,” Alex said.
“Yes please, lass.” Frank looked tired out.
“Are you not eating, lass?”
“I’m feeling a bit queasy.” I rubbed my stomach.
“Again? You need to eat something. You’re wasting away.”
“As if!” I laughed, clearing up the table.
I tidied the kitchen, and had just enough time to change before leaving for the school.
“Do you want me to come?”
“That’s okay, Frank. You can have a well-deserved rest. Will you be okay on your own?” I felt silly saying this after what I’d seen he was capable of the past couple of weeks. But after six years of caring for him, it was a hard habit to break.
He cocked his head to one side, his mouth in a straight line.
“Okay, okay, but call me if there’s a problem,” I smiled.
I flicked through a magazine as I sat outside the Head Teacher’s office.
It brought back memories of my own childhood and the only time I’d been in trouble at school. All I’d done was pass a note to my friend, asking her if she wanted to hang out after school, but the teacher intercepted it and sent me out of class. I was mortified.
Mrs Jackson opened her door and beckoned me in. I’d never met her before, as she only joined the school after the Christmas break. From the sound of her voice I’d imagined a tall dark-haired woman, but in reality she was a dumpy redhead, dressed in a beige skirt suit that was at least a couple of sizes too small.
“Hello, Mrs Lyons. Sorry to keep you.”
I entered her office and sat on the chair offered. A couple of seconds later Mrs Farnworth came in, looking flustered.
She bobbed her head at Mrs Jackson and placed her hand on my arm, giving it a gentle squeeze before taking the seat next to me.
“Okay,” Mrs Jackson began. “I’m sorry to call you in, Mrs Lyons, but Emily has been behaving oddly since returning to school.”
“What do you mean ‘oddly’? Why didn’t you tell me about this before now? I see you every day.” I shook my head as I looked at Mrs Farnworth.
“We didn’t work it out until today,” Mrs Jackson replied.
“I don’t understand.”
“There have been a number of instances of theft over the past couple of weeks. Some of the items had been reported but shrugged off as they weren’t very important things and the children could have been mistaken. For example, items from lunch boxes, a painting one of the girls had done—that sort of thing. But then Mrs Farnsworth’s mobile phone vanished from her drawer, and her silver pen, a gift from her late husband, went missing from her desk.”
Mrs Farnworth glanced at me apologetically, her hands in a twisted tangle in her lap.
“A hair clip went missing from one of the children’s bags. Then this morning, the receptionist’s purse vanished from her handbag behind her desk. Emily had just been in the office to return the class register.”
“This is ridiculous!” I said, horrified. “She wouldn’t steal them. Why on earth would she?” As I spoke, I remembered Hector’s stashed wallet.
“I know this will come as a shock to you, Mrs Lyons, but we located all the missing items this morning. They were in Emily’s cubby-hole in the cloakroom.
I shook my head, astounded. I couldn’t work out why she would do something like this.
“She’s been through an awful trauma—losing her father is bound to have some effect. Plus, I understand she’s been sick.”
I nodded, fingering my locket.
“We think she might benefit from a spot of counselling.”
“Really? She’s just a little girl. She’s seemed all right to me. I thought she was coping.”
“Nobody knows how a child will react to these things. It wouldn’t hurt to use another resource the school provides. A counsellor comes here every two weeks. She works with children for a whole range of reasons, none of them more deserving than Emily. There’s no reason to feel ashamed, I can assure you.”
“I’m not ashamed.”
“Great, I’ll arrange for Janet Davies, our regular counsellor, to see Emily the next time she’s here.”
“Of course, if you think it will help.” I shrugged, trying to make light of Emily’s pilfering.
Mrs Farnworth smiled at me and once again placed her hand on my arm. “Don’t worry. She’ll be all right. Janet’s amazing.”
***
Emily was sitting alone on the mat as I entered her classroom.
My heart broke, seeing her looking so despondent after all she’d been through. Her bright, smiling face had been all that had got me through the last couple of weeks.
“Hey, baby,” I said quietly.
She looked up at me, her eyebrows furrowed and her huge eyes full of unshed tears.
I smiled, bending down, and held my arms out towards her.
She scrambled to her feet and launched herself at me. “I’m sorry, Mummy.” She buried her face in my neck.
“Don’t cry, my baby.” I got to my knees and pulled her into my arms.
“Do you still love me?”
Jonathan’s beautiful eyes gazed up at me from her face and my stomach clenched.
“Of course I do, silly. I’ll always love you,” I closed my eyes to stop the sudden rush of tears from falling.
“But Daddy will be mad at me if he see’d me take those things.”
“I don’t understand, Em. Why would you take them? You know you shouldn’t steal.”
She began to sob.
“Stop crying, come on. Go and get your bag. Grandad’s waiting to see you at home.”
She slowly left for her bag, dragging her feet as she did so.
Mrs Farnworth was standing across the room, deep in conversation with another parent and she waved at me.
I smiled and waved back, wondering what the gossipmongers would be saying.
Emily and I walked to the car.
“I need to ask you once more, baby. I need to try and understand? Please, you’re not in trouble, but please tell me. Why did you steal those things?”
“I didn’t mean to.”
“But you do know it’s wrong?”
She nodded.
“Come on, baby. I don’t want you sad. I want to help you, that’s all.”
“I know.”
“Let’s make a deal, shall we? Next time you want to take something, you tell me and we’ll talk about it. I won’t be angry.”
She nodded. “Okay.”
***
Stephanie and Hector were at the house when we returned home. I chose not to tell them what had happened at the school. I didn’t want Emily to overhear me. I discreetly shook my head at Frank as he opened his mouth to say something and he changed the subject. I winked at him and smiled.
I busied myself in the kitchen. I’d put a ham on the stove to boil earlier and I made some macaroni cheese for dinner.
Alex came in, and as I looked up I did a double take. I’d not seen him dressed in anything other than his farm overalls before, but tonight he wore a pale blue shirt and navy trousers. His messy brown hair, although clean, could have done with a good brushing, but I didn’t think it was my place to say.
“Don’t make me any dinner, Mrs Lyons. I said I’d meet a friend in Carlisle and I wondered, can I take the truck?”
“Course you can, Alex. About time you got out with someone your own age.” I smiled. “Who are you meeting?”
His cheeky face flushed and he seemed tongue-tied.
I laughed. “Are you meeting a lady friend?”
“Kinda. Not like that though.” His face went bright red.
“Ah, get outta here. You can’t fool me.”
He bobbed his head, mumbled something, and left.
I’d developed a soft spot for him. He was a lovely lad; incredibly shy but a hell of a good worker. I hoped he’d find a local girl and settle down. I couldn’t bear the thought of him moving on. With the lack of social events around here it would be inevitable unless he had a girlfriend.
Stephanie breezed into the kitchen and opened the pantry.
“I fancy a glass of wine; do you want one?”
“A bit early isn’t it?”
“Not at all, five o’clock’s not early.” Her eyes twinkled.
“You go ahead. I’ll have one with my dinner, otherwise we won’t get fed.” I laughed.
“Don’t mind if I do.” She poured a large glass of white wine.
“Are you staying here tonight?” I glanced up from the half loaded dishwasher.
Steph nodded, mid swig. “Hector’s working tonight.”
“I don’t know why you’re making him pay for bed and breakfast when we have more than enough room here. He spends enough time here as it is.” I filled the detergent dispenser before setting the clock.
“He asked me to go back to Spain with him last night.”
My head snapped up. “Are you going?”
“No. I told him I can’t leave you yet.”
“Is that the real reason? Because if it is, we’ll be okay.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know what I want. Maybe I’ll let him move in here for a bit. I’m not ready to go to Spain. I don’t know if I’ll ever be.”
“When are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Later.” She nodded towards Emily who was sitting at the dining table, drawing.
I nodded.
“Plus, I thought you wanted to get the clinic up and running again.”
The clinic hadn’t been in use since Jon died, apart from my own secret night-time procedure. There’d been a couple of call-outs that Steph had attended. We’d talked about re-opening, but nothing had been decided.
“I do, but you can’t put your life on hold for me, Steph. We’ll manage if you want to go.”
“That’s the point. I don’t, not yet anyway.”
“You can’t expect Hector to be happy working at that pub for long. He’s an architect, for God’s sake.”
“Not much call for a non-English speaking architect around these parts.” Steph laughed.
“I know, but it’s a bit of a come down. Washing glasses and mopping up slops wouldn’t be my idea of fun.”
Steph shrugged. “He’ll live.”
I placed a stack of plates and cutlery on the table beside Emily. “I’m going to have to ask you to tidy this up soon, baby. Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Okay, Mummy.” She began clearing away her crayons and helped me to lay the table. Today’s upset seemed forgotten, her mood back to normal.
Hector came through from the snug. I’d rarely set foot in there since that night.
“Okay, who wants wine? Frank?” Steph asked, the bottle raised.
“No thanks, lass.”
I glanced up as Frank joined us.
“Hector?” Steph said.
Hector shook his head.
“Oh sorry, I forget you’re working tonight.” She affectionately stroked his face. “Victoria?”
I sighed. “Go on then, a small one if it will shut you up.”
She ignored me and poured a full glass of wine. “Oops!” She giggled.
“Oops, indeed,” I couldn’t help laughing with her. She’d been wonderful these past few weeks.
“No Alex tonight?” Frank asked.
“He’s meeting a friend in Carlisle. I let him take the truck.”
I sliced the ham and transferred the macaroni from the oven to the table. Everyone got stuck in, including Emily who had a hearty portion followed by a heaped bowl of ice-cream with sprinkles.
Afterwards, I ran her a bath and read to her for half an hour before tucking her up in bed.
I found Stephanie in the kitchen scrubbing the baked-on cheese off the pasta dish.
“I can finish off, Steph, if you want to go and spend some time with Hector.”
“He’s already left for work.” She placed the dish into the dishwasher. “Did you finish your wine?”
“Almost, look.” I held the glass up to show her.
She wiped her hands on a towel and despite my objections, refilled my glass.
“Okay, thanks. Where’s Frank?” I asked.
“In the snug, watching a war film.”
I screwed my face up. “What should we do then?” I sat down at the table.
“Drink!” She laughed.
My stomach lurched. “I don’t fancy that either.” I shuddered and placed my glass down, knowing I couldn’t possibly take another sip.
“You always used to enjoy a drink, Vic. What’s changed?”
“I don’t feel like one. Plus, I’m only just managing to get through the days as it is, without getting all emotional on alcohol.”
“You’re doing fine, Vic. You amaze me, you really do. I was saying the same to Hector only this morning.”
“Talking about Hector, what’s going on with you two, Steph? You seem to get on well and you obviously want to be with him.”
“It’s complicated.” She plonked down on the seat opposite.
“What? More complicated than my life?” I gave her a sidelong glance.
She took a deep breath before continuing. “We got on great for two years, and although he’s young, I thought he was the love of my life. Until one night he shattered my illusions and made me see we couldn’t be together.”
“How? Something terrible must have happened for you to throw two whole years away. And if it was so bad, why are you even seeing him at all?”
“I don’t want to tell you. I’d hate you to treat him differently.” She downed her full glass of wine in one gulp.
“Stephanie!” I laughed. “I forgot what a classy bird you are.”
She belched loudly. “I know.”
Then we were both in hysterics. It felt so good to laugh. For a short time I forgot all about my troubles and the huge belly laughs replaced the continuous gnawing pain in my stomach.
Sitting down on the dining chair, tears streamed down my face. “Oh, that’s better,” I said, gasping for breath.
“I love seeing you laugh, Vic.”
I nodded and smiled. “So tell me, missus. What happened with Hector in Spain?”
Her eyes narrowed, as she shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Yes you can. I won’t treat him any different.”
“Promise?”
I promise you.”
“Okay, oh man.” She took a deep breath. “He beat me up.” She winced as she waited for my reaction.
“Oh my God!” I said, my mouth falling open. I’d promised not to treat him differently but I knew every time I looked at him now I would now see a coward and a bully.
She nodded. “We’d gone out for dinner one night and had a wonderful time. We met up with one of his old mates in the bar afterwards and all got on really well. But when we got home Hector went mad. He accused me of flirting with his mate and he went crazy,” she shook her head, close to tears.
“Oh, Steph.” I moved to wrap my arms around her shoulders, now shuddering as she cried.
“I ended up in hospital. Had to have micro surgery for a cut on my arm—apparently the laceration was only a fraction of a centimetre away from a main artery.” She lifted her sleeve and showed me a nasty three inch scar on her right arm, between her wrist and elbow.
“Fuck, Steph. How did he do that?” I said, horrified.
“He threw a vase at me. I held my arms up to cover my face and luckily this was my only real injury.”
“I can’t believe Hector could hurt you. He seems so lovely and gentle.”
“He is, had been for two years beforehand. He’d never even raised his voice at me. But something caused him to lose his head, big time. I don’t even know why, and neither does he. He swears he’ll never harm me again and I believe he means it. But if he wasn’t in control last time, how can I trust he won’t do it again?”
