The Blackwood Curse: A Night Shades Novel, page 6
‘Brutus!’ I hissed, hoping I could call him back and remain unnoticed at the same time. But he ignored me, like the traitor he was, and jumped up at the guy’s legs. He turned and looked down at Brutus in surprise. Then he looked up and quickly found me hovering at the edge of the trees. He stooped and fussed the little dog and straightened, looking at me the whole time.
At first, I thought it was Ollie, there was such a strong family resemblance. He had the same dark, unruly hair under his grey beanie hat. But he was too tall and filled out in his large black woollen overcoat. And after first thinking he had on a high-necked sweater, I realised that his neck was covered with tattoos right up to his jawline. The older one.
He hadn’t said a word, just stood and watched me. It was so uncomfortable that I put up a hand in the end and said, ‘Hi!’
He totally ignored it, turned and slammed the van door. I watched him, open-mouthed, as he walked back to the house. With one last look over his shoulder on the doorstep, confirming he’d definitely seen me, he went inside.
I was completely stunned. How rude. I called Brutus to me, who’d sniffed everything in the vicinity and made my way, retracing my steps, back down the track. I was moving fast in anger. He was so up himself to ignore me like that. My cheeks burned with the humiliation.
When I came to the fork, I made sure I took the right one, all the while my mind went over the strange meeting and why he would have ignored me like that. It made me angry that I remembered every detail of him; how his hair was almost black, how his jeans were ripped and cool and tapered into logger-type boots. I bet he was covered in those tattoos. There was no denying that the guy was hot. I had not expected to meet a guy like that out here in rural England. Someone who was so arrogant that he didn’t even see fit to say hello to me.
The downside of fuming all the way home was that I took no notice of the view, the good thing was, it seemed to take no time at all. However, by the time I reached the house it was lunchtime. My arms and shoulders killed and my toes had gone numb with the cold – particularly my plastered foot.
I headed straight for the warmth of the kitchen and forgot Gerty’s Brutus ban. She tutted, immediately complaining, ‘That dog’s brought wet snow in right through the house.’
‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘I think he needs a drink.’
She tutted again, but I suspected she didn’t hate him that much, as she found an old bowl under the sink, filled it with water and set it down for him.
After glugging down a pint of squash myself, I headed straight out to find Burt before I peeled all my layers off and thawed out. He was just closing the door to the orangery as I got there.
‘Roof’s patched up. Did you have a nice walk?’
‘Yes,’ I said, watching Brutus greet his master with a wagging tail. ‘He was a good boy, but Gerty doesn’t think so.’
He laughed. ‘Gerty’s bark is worse than her bite – oh, I almost forgot. I found this.’ He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out what looked like a length of cane or bamboo about as thick as my thumb.
‘What is it?’
‘Not sure, but I didn’t want to just chuck it before you saw it.’
He passed it to me, and I turned it over in my hands. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘Under where the roof went. I guess it was under or part of the love seat.’
I looked at him and smiled. ‘Thanks.’
‘Best be off.’
I thanked him again, too distracted by the object to see him go. In the end, I tucked it away in my pocket and went inside to take off my boot and wet socks. After a warming bowl of chicken soup, I went up to my room to check out the wooden tube.
It was about six inches long and about an inch wide. I took out my phone and switched on the torch to look inside it. It was then I saw it. All the way round the inside was what appeared to be black writing.
My heart flipped. It was a concealed note. This was the secret message I’d been expecting, and I’d been right. I could whoop for joy.
I hurriedly rummaged in my makeup bag for tweezers. Then, slowing down my breathing so I didn’t shake, I pushed the tweezers down the side of the tube, careful to get one prong between the paper and the edge. After a couple of attempts, I managed it. I very slowly pulled the paper out.
I was surprised to find it wasn’t that long; just a few lines:
* * *
Lila,
I won’t be coming here again.
I can see now that it was a mistake.
I could never love someone as low in station.
Please don’t contact me or ever speak to me again.
Jedediah
* * *
I was stunned. The tone was so different. No LB and JWB, as before. As if all pretence had gone. I was expecting a love note, as I was sure Lila was too. She must have been devastated. Now the rumours of her suicide began to ring true. I wondered what terrible things happened that night.
Although, whatever way I thought about it, it didn’t make sense. I couldn’t understand what could have happened between the note in the library declaring undying love and this one, to make such a dramatic turnaround.
I’d had all these wonderful scenarios in my head where they’d planned to elope. Maybe she ran away in grief. Deep down, I didn’t think so. Someone was trying to tell me something: the roses, the petals. The round house itself was calling me, I was sure of it.
My eyes fell on my old laptop, left on my bed from earlier. I found my old charger and switched it on. I sagged in defeat when only the blue screen of death greeted me. Ollie! I wanted to scream in frustration. Now I’d have to take it all the way back to the shop.
I hit the escape button over and over and it started loading some random gibberish that looked like code. It went on for a few seconds until it stopped.
Then one word came up.
‘Hello?
Chapter 6
Hello. I know you’re there. You may as well talk to me.
I stared at the screen. Just one of those nerdy things coders did for their kicks. Wasn’t it? Then it did it again.
I looked around for the hidden camera. Creepy. My fingers tapped, lightning fast. OK, quit freaking me out. Who is this? My mind was racing all the while, trying to come up with a likely culprit from my old friendship circle, but I came up with no one. The friends I had were not techy enough for this, even if they still bothered with me – which they didn’t.
I leaned back against the headboard with my laptop across my thighs. When nothing came back, I let out a blast of air in relief. It had me going for a minute.
It’s Wax, and you plagued me!
My mind shot to the only person I knew by that name: Waxley-Black, but I couldn’t be sure. The one thing I knew, was that they were speaking to me in real time. I wanted to say something back, but I didn’t want to give anything away yet. Call me Pearl – Pearl White, I shot back on impulse. It was the first thing that came to mind close to my surname of Whitely.
Three crying with laughter emojis came up. Then: Like a CB radio call sign or something?
It felt weird. Whoever it was, they were chatting to me like we’d met at school or a party or something. I had to remember I had no idea who this person was. Yeah, I guess… you never know what weirdoes are on the internet. Is that what yours is?
Erm… There was another gap, as if whoever it was was having to think a great deal. Black Wax, as in candle.
My mind was racing. Black Wax – Waxley-Black? I needed to keep them talking: I thought church candles were white?
Who said anything about church? Not mine … they’re black. It’s the only way I sleep.
Every word was a step further into weirdo country and yet I was drawn to speak to him. Yes, him. I don’t know how I knew, but I did. It was the most interesting conversation I’d had in days. How old are you? It felt essential to ask, even though he could say literally anything.
Twenty!
My fingers hovered over the keyboard while I processed the information. I was beginning to wonder if – maybe even hope – this was the guy I’d seen earlier.
Why? How old are you?
For a moment I warred with what to say. I decided on honesty; after all, I wanted honesty in return. Eighteen! Are you a guy? Even though I was already convinced, I held my breath.
Hahahaha! littered across the page. It conveyed laughter much more than his emojis of earlier. Yes, I’m a guy. 6’2’, 180 lbs. Why, you’d prefer a butch girl???
I burst out laughing at that. I couldn’t believe I was batting to and fro with a guy I had never met, and one that was sounding more appealing by the minute. Jock?
Yank?
It was my turn to write: laughing. To which he replied: hahahaha. Followed by: I can’t believe you wrote the actual word.
I hadn’t laughed in such a long time. It was a good feeling. Oh and I’m a girl, in case you wondered. Unless you prefer a boy? I said in panic, then felt stupid immediately after. It felt like flirting and I didn’t think it was appropriate. My cheeks blasted red. Especially when he replied with a simple: ???.
After I literally died, he sent a smiley face and: I knew you were a girl. I’ve heard your voice.
My heart stalled. How? I shot back. Did he mean this morning when I called ‘Hi’ and he ignored me?
I dunno. I see you in my mind.
I wasn’t sure why I liked that but I did. I should really be freaked out, but I was becoming more and more convinced he was the older one of the two Waxley-Black brothers. I had to know more. Maybe he was just imagining what I looked like. The dream I’d woken up with this morning gave me a warm feeling in my stomach. How do you see me? I said, hedging, but my heart was beating hard in my chest.
Blonde. You’re very blonde. Pale. Then he left quite a gap. And cute!
Maybe I should have been creeped out, but, the truth was, I was glowing. I couldn’t remember the last interaction I’d had with a hot guy – well apart from Ollie, and I couldn’t really count a guy that had to talk to me in a shop.
That kind of narrowed it down. It could only be one of them. How else could he have got me so right? I had to find out more about him. All from your mind’s eye, eh? So what about you? What do you look like? You could be a little nerdy troll who sits in his room all day eating candy bars.
Again hahahahah covered the page. Well, I guess one of those things could be right.
It wasn’t the answer I was expecting and my heart stopped with fright. I could be talking to a spotty thirteen-year-old with raging hormones, grounded to his room. Although I soon relaxed; there was something about his easy tone that was too confident to ever be that. I frowned and clicked hesitantly. Well, which one was right? I held my breath and waited.
After a long moment: The sitting in my room part.
I let out a long breath of relief.
I don’t go out much – not in the day, anyway. Re the rest. Tall, dark – I promise – no spots.
I hitched in a breath at how he’d read me so right again. There was something in that promise that quickened my heart, but there was an undercurrent of sadness too in just a few short words. Are you sick then? I was already praying that he wasn’t.
Some might say. Then another smiley face appeared. I got the impression that it was to cover up for something he wasn’t ready to tell.
So, where do you live, vampire boy? It was the only thing I could think of to lighten the mood; even though I’d pretty much guessed already. I sent a smiley face of my own.
His laughter came back with: Vampire boy? Wax isn’t dark enough? You have to imagine me drawing the blood from young virgins?
I almost wrote back: ‘Who said anything about virgins?’ but stopped just in time and backspaced. We’d only spoken for ten minutes and it seemed too flirty and could send the wrong message. I sent an embarrassed emoji with a red face and Sorry instead. I guess never going out in the day would make you pale like a Goth, I said, trying to remember the guy from that morning, but he had a beanie hat on and was a long way off.
A thinking emoji came back. Maybe a bit. I’m just not really a people person.
I absorbed that for a moment, trying to decipher what he meant.
So, tell me a bit about you, Blondie. You’re a little pale yourself.
There was the familiarity. Do you know me or something? He must have seen me. There weren’t many people with hair as white as mine.
Again he sent over laughter. Sorry, didn’t mean to freak you out. No, I don’t know you but, like I said, I have a knack of seeing people and that’s how I see you when I close my eyes. I’m dark, you’re light, I’m black and you’re white.
I frowned and looked closely at the words. They were strange and compelling. Quite poetic, really. I knew I should be careful, but I felt drawn to him. Maybe there was something magical about this place. The way it had snowed, and everything felt cut off from the outside world. What colour are your eyes? I said, feeling swept up in it.
Blue!
Somehow, I just knew he was going to say that, even though Ollie’s had been dark brown. Then an idea occurred to me. OK then, wise guy, if you can see me, what colour are mine?
The gap was long enough, so I thought I had him. Mind’s eye not working??? I said, but I felt a little disappointed.
You’re hiding. You’ve got to want to be seen, Pearl.
I smirked, but he intrigued me. What do you suggest I do, smile for the camera? I zoomed my face into the screen, convinced there must be something he could see through.
Just think open thoughts. I told you, I see things that other people don’t. Just think to yourself: ‘See me, Wax.’
I half laughed and half frowned. This boy was definitely strange. OK, OK, right, I’m doing it I sent back. Then I don’t know what made me try, but I said it to myself: ‘See me, Wax.’ I said it out loud and felt silly after.
Blue, but paler than mine. Yours are the colour of an Arctic glacier.
My heart was pounding, and I had to quickly reason with myself. It wasn’t just that he had got it so right, but the way it came across. As if he was whispering next to my cheek. It was utterly unnerving. Clever. Are you David Copperfield or something? I swallowed hard, hoping my joking would come across. It certainly felt like he was weaving a spell around me. You’re good. It was all I could say. I felt out of breath.
There was no reply for several minutes. I panicked that my joke had come across as mocking him. In the end I had to cave and say: Are you there?
Nothing. I stared and stared, until eventually the screen flickered and my username and password prompt came up. I suppose I should have been glad that my computer appeared to now be working, but all I could say was, ‘Shit!’
I clicked all the keys frantically to get the blue screen back, but it had gone as if I’d imagined the whole thing. All I could think of was: How on earth would I get to speak to him now?
It was no good, I was going to have to go back to his house.
* * *
The wait was as frustrating as hell. It was too late to go back today. It would be dark soon and covering that distance on crutches in the snow once today had taken its toll on my shoulders. However, the more I thought about it, the more confused and angry I became. First, he blatantly ignores me this morning and then goes to all the trouble of talking to me on some weird non-internet link, only to get offended and leave without so much as a goodbye.
That’s the way my thoughts went for the rest of the day. Luckily, Gerty pulled me out of them for an early supper so she could get a lift home with Burt. I ate my stew and dumplings at the kitchen table, silently churning over the day and not even noticing the taste of what I was eating. It wasn’t even just the Waxley-Blacks, but the note Burt found as well. That wasn’t sitting right with me either and I couldn’t understand why. It bothered me.
‘You’re very quiet this evening,’ Gerty said as she finished loading the dishwasher.
I shrugged and put a huge spoonful in my mouth so I couldn’t talk.
‘You’re bored senseless, I suspect,’ Gerty said with a sigh.
I averted my eyes, letting her draw her own conclusions.
‘Shall I get Tallulah to come tomorrow if the snow is still bad? If we have more there’ll be no school.’
I shrugged again and then a thought struck me. She was my way into the Waxley-Black house. I instantly brightened. ‘Yes, that’d be good. I’m going stir crazy here.’
She smiled. ‘That settles it then. I’m finished for the evening. Just switch the dishwasher on when you’ve finished. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
I nodded. ‘Thanks. See you tomorrow.’
The moment Gerty went, the quiet in the room became oppressive. Every scrape of my spoon was deafening. I shovelled the last of my stew into my mouth, stood and put the empty bowl in the dishwasher, remembering to switch it on like she said. I grabbed a couple of cookies from the jar and went upstairs on my crutches. I glanced at Lila as I reached the top. I could swear she was smirking at me. It always felt like she was watching my life and finding it very entertaining.
I started running my bath. Then I went to my room to collect my robe, nightshirt and wash things. I couldn’t help a last look out of the window. The light was going, and the roundhouse was a dark outline in the gloom. It hadn’t snowed again all day but it only served to add to the feeling, it was waiting. My plans would have to change if school was open tomorrow. Somehow I doubted it would be. Everything in me was driving me to that house.
I drew the heavy curtains and grabbed my old laptop to listen to music in the tub. Everything echoed in this old house. The wind groaned and pipes knocked, long after the taps were turned off and I wanted to block it out. Before I left, I couldn’t resist a last try on the laptop, but the password prompt came up straight away.
