The Blackwood Curse, page 3
I sniffed back more tears and pulled back the old-fashioned blankets to get into bed. I immediately jumped back. Inching forward, I sagged in relief. There, in the middle, was a flat orange bear. I picked it up by the ear assuming it was Tallulah’s idea of a joke and it gurgled. I shook it next to my ear. It was hot and full of water.
I instantly brightened. Gerty must have put it there. I put it back, climbed in bed and sighed into the warmth it had created. I was tired and overwrought. Maybe once I’d had enough sleep things wouldn’t seem so bad.
I leaned down and pulled my laptop out of the bottom drawer of the nightstand. It was my link with the twenty-first century. It was impossible to be alone with technology. The familiar green light came on and I waited for it to fire up. But nothing happened. I tried again. ‘No … no. Don’t break on me now.’ All I got was the blue screen of death. Then it buzzed with grey fuzz like an untuned TV. Nothing.
I continued to stare at it for a full minute waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. I fell back against the pillows. The silver stars looked down on me from the ceiling as if painted to brighten up some poor child’s life.
I hated it here. Hate, hate, hate it!
Then I sobbed.
* * *
Crying was the best way to fall asleep. I’d learned that lesson a very long time ago. The next thing I knew, the grey light of a new day was peeping through the gaps between the heavy velvet drapes.
The room air was cold against my face. The fire had long since gone out. I checked my phone: nothing. I sent a message to Mom, anyway, letting her know I’d got here OK. The time was 8.50 a.m.
I loathed the idea of getting up into the cold but I remembered I had about three hours until Tallulah came to collect me for our shopping trip. That meant I had time to spend in the orangery before she got here.
I washed and dressed in extra baggy jeans and the warmest sweater I could find. More sweaters and a pair of boots definitely had to be on the shopping list today. Then I grabbed my phone to read on and went down through the kitchen in search of breakfast before I went outside.
The kitchen was warm and filled with the delicious smell of baking. Gerty was there, beating some mixture in a bowl by hand. ‘Fresh muffins cooling. Tea?’
I had to get used to that, but for now I shook my head. ‘No thanks. Any juice?’
Without so much as a deviation from the rhythm of her beating, she nodded to a fruit bowl on the side. ‘Oranges are over there.’ And, with a flick of her eyes: ‘You’ll find a squeezer in the drawer.’
I picked up a large orange and looked at it quizzically. I’d seen machines do this in a shop.
Gerty tutted, which I realized was a habit of hers when she became impatient. She put down her bowl and took the orange from my hand. Then she took out a sharp knife, cut it in half and began pushing one half down over a conical glass dish. She tipped the contents into a glass and did the same with the other half. I never knew it could be done like that. It barely made half a glass, but when she passed it to me and I tried it, I’d never tasted anything so nice.
‘You won’t get fresher than that,’ Gerty said. Then she picked up her bowl and resumed beating her mixture. The rate she kept up, she must have muscles of steel. ‘So, where are you off to this early?’
I picked up a muffin in a paper towel and put it in my bag. Then I arranged my crutches and moved towards the back door. ‘I thought I’d read in the round house for a while.’
Gerty stopped beating and studied me for a long moment, as if I’d said something that struck a chord for her. Then she smiled as if she’d swept it away. ‘You mean the old orangery.’
‘Yeah, it’s peaceful there.’
‘Well, be careful. Bert will see to it this week.’
I gave her a small smile and left through the back door. Going to the special place I’d claimed as my own filled me with excitement. When I got there, I propped my crutches against the wall outside and hopped in like I did the last time. I held onto the fallen rafters to get closer to the pedestal with the angel. Because against all the faded white paint and rotten wood, in one of the angel’s hands was a single, perfect rose – the colour of blood.
Chapter 3
The rose played on my mind all morning after that. I tried to read in the round house but my eyes would drift to the rose before the end of every paragraph. Who was it for? Was it for me or in memorial for someone? Or was it simply to pay respect to a place that once was? I couldn’t help it; it made me wistful.
In the end, I gave up reading, grabbed my crutches and went to get ready for Tallulah’s arrival. Something told me I was going to get judged today.
I opted for ripped black jeans that I’d ripped further down the sides to accommodate my cast, a laced-up flat boot for the other foot and an oversized Marilyn Manson t-shirt. It was kind of my signature uniform back home. I scraped my white hair back into a ponytail and left two strands on either side of my temples.
My skin was pale and clear, so I had no need to cover it. I coal-blacked my eyes and just used a little lip-gloss to emphasize my pale look.
My jacket was woefully inadequate here. That had to be first on my list after a new laptop and phone. I’d put my old one in to be fixed. My whole life was on that hard drive – memories of Pete, photos, music, everything, but I didn’t hold out much hope.
Tallulah was already in Burt’s car when she texted for me to come down. Burt got out to stow my crutches away and she gave me a quick smile and went back to texting when I got in the back seat. In fact, she texted the whole journey.
Burt went on about making the roof safe on the round house. ‘I might ’ave some greenhouse glass in one of the sheds somewhere. I’ll start putting some glass in … bit at a time, you know? Once the roof’s done, of course.’
I thanked him. He hadn’t once hinted about the rose, although I’d already discounted him. ‘Does anyone else go in there?’ I said.
Tallulah ignored me or didn’t hear.
‘Don’t believe so, miss. Her ladyship would need me to wheel her out there and she’s never asked for that.’
I wondered if Sarah really was a lady, or whether Burt was just having a joke at his employer’s expense.
Before long, we drove through an endless car park to a retail outlet with barn-like buildings. Each had huge signs for retailers I’d never heard of. We pulled up in front of one called PC Planet.
‘’ere we are,’ Burt said. ‘It’s a short walk to the shopping centre over there,’ and he bobbed his head to the right, away from the building.
‘I know where it is,’ Tallulah said, finally putting her phone in her bag.
‘Call me fifteen minutes before you want to come home and I’ll pick you up at the entrance.’
Tallulah rudely got out while he was still talking.
‘Thank you, Burt.’
He smiled and winked, then got out to get my crutches.
As we walked in through the wall of glass doors, it lived up to its name. Rows, the length of the building and all the way around the outside, of computers, monitors, laptops and phones. This was exactly the place I needed.
All the staff looked under the age of twenty and wore headsets, blue polo shirts and black pants.
Tallulah waved at some guy behind the desk and went to go and speak to him. A pretty young girl came up and asked me if she could help. She had honey-blonde hair in a ponytail, too much makeup and only came up to my chest. At first glance she looked about twelve until you took in the size of her boobs and ass. She was friendly enough though, so I went to tell her what I needed.
A peal of laughter interrupted my thoughts and I turned around to see Tallulah and the boy laughing together at the service desk. It was too far away to hear what they were saying, but Tallulah sure found whatever it was funny.
‘I need an iPhone and a MacBook. It was the most expensive, and the least that Mommy and Daddy could do. The girl’s eyes widened, but she wasn’t going to argue a sale and spoke the order into her headset. She beamed a smile at me and told me to meet her at the desk where Tallulah was. ‘Wait!’ I said, before she could run off. I got my old cumbersome laptop out of my bag. ‘Is there someone that can take a look at this? It just blue screened and won’t turn on. I need it to work or get my stuff off it or something.’ She turned it over in her hands as if the outside would reveal something to her. Then she passed it back to me. ‘Yeah, give it in at the desk. They’ll write you out a ticket.’
Tallulah was still laughing with the boy when I went over to join them. I wasn’t expecting him to be as nearly as cool or good-looking. I don’t know what I expected of English boys, exactly.
His hair was dark, almost black, and swept forward in wisps to frame his face. It was a style a lot of the metal boys wore back home. Except his face was young and angelic-looking with long dark lashes around mahogany eyes. He couldn’t be that young because he had several piercings in his ears and one in his nose. He had a navy sports jacket on over his polo shirt but I could clearly see the tattoos on the backs of his hands. ‘And who do we have here, Tallulah?’
His accent was very cute on him but the way his eyes raked the length of my body spoke of way too much confidence. It reminded me instantly of the popular boys back home, who would shout for me to show them my jugs – hence the baggy t-shirts. I’d always been well developed for my age and hated it.
‘Beccah, Ollie. Ollie, Beccah,’ Tallulah said, by way of introduction. ‘He’s at the same sixth form as us.’ His name badge said Ollie Black.
I smiled, a little surprised. He didn’t exactly fit the Hogwarts image I had in my mind of St Barts.
‘You start Monday?’ he said.
I nodded. ‘My laptop died on me.’ I frowned the minute the lame comment left my mouth. At least I had the old one in my hands so I didn’t look such an idiot. ‘She said you’d write up a ticket, or something.’
He nodded, took out a pad and started writing without asking me anything further about it. ‘Well, you came to the right place. It’s your life, right?’ He stuck a label on it and put it on a shelf behind him. Then he accepted the boxes of my new stuff handed to him by a runner to put through the register. He beeped them and I handed over my credit card.
He looked at Tallulah with a smirk. ‘Loaded!’
She laughed.
I wasn’t exactly sure what they meant, but I had a good idea. It irritated me. My brother Pete and I both had trust funds. His reverted to me on his death, and of course there was my parent’s guilt money. It had become a game to see how much I could spend before they actually spoke up to tell me, enough. It hadn’t happened yet. Ollie seemed oblivious to my annoyance with them, put the boxes into a large carrier bag and pushed them towards me across the counter.
I adjusted my bag on my shoulder to accommodate my crutches. He hadn’t even remarked on my leg so I knew Tallulah had filled him in. It made my face flush with anger, even more. ‘Bye,’ I said, flatly, and went to turn away, but he stopped me.
‘Wait! Listen. I’m having a few friends over to my house next Saturday. It’s Halloween and we thought it’d be fun. You know, dress up and that. You should come.’
I looked at Tallulah, a little unsure. She shrugged. ‘Yeah, you should.’
I was still not convinced.
‘It’s up to you, but your aunt goes to bed at, like, five o’clock. She won’t even know,’ Tallulah said with another shrug.
She was right. After Gerty went home of an evening I had literally no adult supervision.
I looked at Ollie, who waggled his eyebrows at me playfully. Oh, what the hell. He seemed fun.
‘Wait … your aunt?’
‘Oh yeah, I almost forgot. She’s the long-lost Blackwood niece from America,’ she said, giggling.
He raised his eyebrows and nodded slowly in understanding. Then he laughed and said, shaking his head, ‘Maybe you shouldn’t come.’ But he still seemed playful.
Tallulah laughed loudly at some ‘in’ joke. I suspected she fancied him as she laughed at literally everything he said. Then she stopped and looked puzzled. He continued to stare at her, widening his eyes as if she should know. Then he rolled them when she finally caught on with an, ‘Oh, yeah! I forgot … the Blackwood Curse.’
They both laughed.
I was completely confused and convinced they were hazing me. Seeing the look on my face, he seemed to relent and tried to stop himself laughing. ‘It’s just some silly story between our families, that’s all. You’re from the Blackwoods and I’m from the Waxley-Blacks. There’s some history that goes way back.’
My eyes dropped to his name badge. ‘My brother and I drop the double-barrelled bit. ‘It’s a mouthful, you know?’ He waggled his eyebrows again, laughing. He actually made me laugh that time.
‘Do some bloody work, Ollie,’ an older guy called out from the opposite end of the desk. A queue had formed behind us and Ollie was about to get into trouble.
We said our goodbyes and I decided he seemed OK. ‘Tarts and Vicars!’ he called after us with a wink, making Tallulah shriek with laughter.
I looked at Tallulah for an explanation.
‘The theme,’ she said, as if I was stupid. ‘For next week … Halloween,’ she added, when my face stayed blank.
She tutted when I frowned, kind of getting it but not the two things together. She huffed, taking out her phone again. ‘Look, girls dress as tarts and boys like vicars. It’s kind of a British thing.’
My mind was racing for the translation.
‘Bloody hell, Becks,’ she said, rolling her eyes. ‘Prostitutes and priests!’
‘Oh.’ I said, nodding, still not actually getting the link to Halloween. Guess it was a bit Rocky Horror Show.
She went straight back to her texting; I’d lost her. I ran over the conversation we’d just had. At least there were two people I’d know when I started school on Monday.
The rest of the afternoon passed pretty uneventfully. I got a warm coat from GAP, next on my list. It was black, quilted and almost down to my knees. I also got some dark-coloured sweaters that I found out were actually called jumpers over here (no idea why). ‘They just are,’ was Tallulah’s explanation. Secretly, I’m sure, she had no idea herself.
We went to several girly shops after that, with booming dance music. Tallulah reminded me that they had to be sensible business clothes for school. I got a couple of skirts and dresses and some slacks for colder days, all in black, navy or grey. I found some low-heeled court shoes that Tallulah said were hideous. I lived in sneakers or boots at home, so I had no idea if they were or not. It was weird trying them only on one foot. I hoped they’d still fit when I finally got my cast off.
Next, we went for stationery, which was always my favourite part of the new school year and a bag to carry my books in. Girls seemed to carry huge shoulder bags here rather than backpacks. Then, lastly, we ended up in a sexy lingerie shop, which I’d never stepped foot in in my entire life before. I was embarrassed, but I had to admit curious too. My underwear was normally bought for me by my mother from Walmart.
‘Tarts and Vicars, remember?’ Tallulah said loudly, making me look around anxiously.
‘Oh,’ I mouthed in understanding.
Tallulah got a call and went and sat on a chaise lounge in the corner; she was proving absolutely no help at all. I wandered the racks until an assistant approached me; she was so beautiful, she was probably a model. I shrugged hopelessly when she asked if she could help me. ‘Tarts and Vicars?’ I said, hoping that was enough to explain what was needed.
She asked me to follow her. I found it fascinating how she seemed to elongate all the vowels at the ends of her words. It wasn’t easy with my crutches squeezing between the tightly packed clothes rails. We came to a stop in the furthest corner of the shop. I had to make a conscious effort not to stare at some of the R-rated stuff there. She held up two costumes, both ridiculously short. One was meant to be a nurse’s uniform made of some shiny plastic and the other was a maid’s outfit. I tried the nurse one on first and felt ridiculous. The maid one was better. It was mainly a black dress with a frilly underskirt and tiny white apron. The bodice laced up under my chest making my boobs look enormous. I guess that was the general idea. I could put one of the cardigans I’d bought for school over the top. It all seemed silly with my ugly, fat plaster cast, anyway.
Tallulah poked her head through the curtain. ‘Yes!’ she said, laughing. ‘You have to get that. You look hot.’
I blushed but agreed, figuring I wasn’t going to find anything better. I insisted on over-the-knee socks, not fishnets, though. After all, it was only going to be on one leg. Tallulah seemed unperturbed and just nodded. ‘That’ll work.’
‘Aren’t you getting anything?’ I asked as I handed over my credit card at the till. Again.
She just shrugged. ‘I’ve already got mine.’
I thought no more of it as she yanked me along by the arm. ‘You need killer heels to go with that.’ So we went back to the shoe shop we’d already been in earlier. ‘On one foot?’ I said. ‘Really?’
She shrugged it off with: ‘The overall effect will be there.’ At first I was reluctant to spend money on something I would only wear one of and probably never wear again, but I had to admit the patent black leather three-inch heels would go much better with my outfit than my sensible school shoes.
Tallulah messaged Burt while I was paying. By the time we got out to the front of the building, Burt pulled up. We stuffed everything in the trunk, which was now ‘the boot’. There were so many new things and meanings to remember.
I got in the car, exhausted, after what had proved to be quite a productive day. My leg was fine; it was my shoulders that killed. Using crutches to take my weight for the best part of a day had taken its toll on them.
My mind went back to PC Planet. I hoped they could fix my old laptop. All my memories of Pete were on there; the great summer we had last year, the music we both listened to.
