The Woods, page 6
I set off down the lane, walking fast, ignoring the woods on my left, but too aware of the trees and shadows. The night Bella died, I was out there in the woods with her, but I don’t know why. Then there’s a gap and it’s like I went to sleep and woke up in the woods, rotting leaves on my face and in my mouth, soaked with rain and streaked with mud. But alive. Bella was lying next to me and I thought…I thought she was asleep but when I got up and looked, her eyes were open and staring and there was blood on her face and…I blanked out again then, woke up in the ambulance.
I stop and hunch over, sliced in two by a spasm of pain so sharp it stops my breath. We were at the bottom of a gully, made slick by rain and a summer storm. They said we fell. They said there was a landslide. They tested Bella’s alcohol levels and they were too high for a few glasses of champagne and they said we’d sneaked out drinking and Bella had slipped, pulling me with her, falling and tumbling thirty feet, Bella’s life ending on a sharp rock at the bottom.
They found cigarettes in her pocket, a plastic-wrapped lump of dope. Everyone clamored to tell how much she used to drink, how much of a wild child she was. But…but…I never went into the woods at night. Bella sneaked out to drink, yes, and I know she’d take the shortcut home through the woods, but I was never invited along. She’d go into the village, or up to the amusement park with her friends—those cool, hostile girls who ignored me when Bella let me tag along.
I told them. I said all that as I lay in my hospital bed, dehydrated and in shock. Something happened, I said. Something terrible happened. And I think I started babbling about the killer who was on the loose, the rumors and stories that thrilled and terrified us all in equal measure. The “summer of death,” the local papers called it—all those stories about a killer who never got caught, who stopped his spree after the previous summer and disappeared into legend.
I was looked at with pity, treated with sympathy and frustration as my memory refused to come back. The inquest ruled it an accidental death in the end, but people still look at me, even now, curiosity on their faces, a question tucked away in their cheeks, not spoken but always there. Do you remember? Do you, Tess?
Tess
I look up, whirling round, heart pounding. Who called me? It sounded like they were right next to me, hissing in my ear, but I’m alone. It’s mid-afternoon, but with the trees arching up and over, blocking the weak sun, it could be night. The lane is unlit and the woods have faded, become part of the greater dark.
“Who’s there?” I say, my whisper sounding too loud. My neck prickles—someone’s out here, watching me, following me.
I close my eyes and there she is, clear in my mind: Bella stepping out from behind a tree in her tank top and jeans, a dark smudge I know is blood on her forehead.
Once upon a time, she says. Once upon a time, two girls went into the woods…
I can’t breathe. My heart pounds and I can’t take a breath. In the back of my mind, I hear shouting. Me, shouting at Bella, then another voice, tantalizingly familiar, a male hand pushing my tangled hair out of my eyes, wiping away a tear. What is it? When was this? It won’t come into focus.
Come on, she says, beckoning me into the trees. Come into the woods. Let’s finish the story.
I shake my head and back away, turning and running back toward the house. No, I can’t do it. Not the woods, not the woods, never the woods.
Chapter 8
Max and Lena have gone out shopping and Dad’s pottering around downstairs when I step into Julia’s room. I tiptoe in quietly in case she’s still sleeping, but she’s awake. More than awake: she’s up, buttoning a jade-green cardigan over her purple striped pajamas.
“Julia—you should be resting.”
She looks up and gives me a tired smile. “All I’ve done in the last two days is sleep. Right now I need to be up to greet my guests.” She holds out her arms. “Hello, Tess.”
I go over and hug her, careful not to squeeze because she feels so thin and fragile. Last time I saw her, in the hospital, she was bloated from the medication, given a fake bloom of health by the chemotherapy drugs. The fake bloom is all gone now and I have to work hard to hide my shock at how ill she looks. She hasn’t lost that bright shock of red hair, but even in the half-light, I see how much more gray is threaded through the red.
“Don’t,” she says, seeing me looking and touching her head. “I wanted to dye the roots before you came, but I can’t do the chemicals anymore.”
“I’m so sorry…” I begin, guilt heavy in my gut.
“Don’t,” she says again. “I don’t want you weeping and wailing around me, all guilt and regret. Too late for that. Was I pissed off you didn’t come home for your dad? Yes, of course I was, but I also get it. I know how you feel about this place. I remember how bad you were after Bella died, how badly you needed to get away. And you’re here now, aren’t you? Let’s not waste any more time.”
I take a deep breath and force a smile. “Okay. Of course. And I’m here for as long as I need to be here. I promise.”
“Good. Then you can start by helping me downstairs.”
I frown. Downstairs? She’s out of breath already, just from getting out of bed and putting on a cardigan. Looking around the room, I see right away where all the furniture from downstairs has gone: the red armchair with the sagging seat, the oak side table, a china vase filled with flowers. All Julia’s favorite things have been brought up here—Dad has surrounded her with them. There are framed photos on the table—of me and Bella, Dad, her sons, and little Ellie, forever young.
I see what Dad has tried to do, but it can’t take away what this room now is. If anything, it highlights it, and I wonder if Julia feels that too, if all her favorite things remind her that soon it’s all going to be gone. The room smells wrong, despite the flowers. It smells like hospitals. It smells like death. I can understand why she wants to leave it.
“I don’t want to see everyone gathered around my bed like I’m going to drop dead in the next five minutes,” Julia says. “The sun’s out—I want to be in the garden, in the fresh air.”
I draw in a shaky breath. What do I say? I can’t pretend she’s going to get better, I can’t tell her some miracle is going to occur. She and Dad have already gone through this, sitting in front of the consultant as she told them there was nothing else they could do. Did she scream and rage and smash things up? I would, I think, but I can’t imagine it of Julia, who’s always smiled in the face of everything. Instead, I can picture her smiling and shaking the consultant’s hand and walking out and comforting Dad and smiling through it all. Smiling as he brought up the chair and the ornaments and the photographs, smiling to make him feel better.
But there are tears in her eyes now, so I summon my inner strength when all I want to do is fall sobbing at her feet.
“Well, come on then, let’s do this. Pimm’s in the garden in February it is.”
Julia smiles faintly. “Maybe not Pimm’s. Maybe a cup of PG Tips might be better.”
I hook my arm through hers. “Ah, you say that, but when you experience the tropical forty-five-degree temperature in pajamas and slippers, I’m sure you’ll change your mind.”
It’s a slow journey downstairs. We pause every couple of steps, Julia holding on to the banister with one hand and on to me with the other. But it’s worth it for the genuine smile on her face as we step out into the winter sunshine and she stops to take a deep breath.
“God, it’s like I’ve been in prison for twenty years and this is my first time outside.”
“Well, we’re not going to stay out long,” I warn her. “It’s bloody freezing and you’re wearing pajamas. Dad’ll kill me if you die of cold on my watch.”
“Oh, crass death joke, Tess. Really crass.”
“But better than the weeping and wailing and guilt-ridden apologies?” I ask, eyebrows raised.
“Definitely,” she says, nodding. She lets go of my arm to grip my hand. She’s so thin I can see all the tendons raised in her hand. I can feel her bones, too close to the surface. It feels like if I squeeze, even gently, I’ll crush them to dust. “Look after him for me, will you? After?”
“Dad?”
She nods. “He’s being so strong, but he’s gone through this too many times. I’m worried.”
I put my other hand on top of hers. “I will, I promise.”
“He sits in there with me, surrounded by all that…stuff, and he looks so lost.”
“I’ll be here for him. I won’t let him be alone.”
“I wish…I wish the boys would come. Now, while I’m still well enough to sit in the garden.”
I look away, pulling my hands free of hers. Those bloody boys.
Julia reaches for one of my curls, tugging it and letting it go. It’s what Bella used to do, and my eyes fill with tears. I don’t know if they’re for Bella or for the shadow of Julia that’s left.
Max and Lena come through the gate as I’m settling Julia on the bench, a fleecy throw snatched from the living room wrapped around her.
“Julia,” Max says, coming straight over and giving her a hug and a kiss on the forehead.
“Hello, gorgeous,” she says, smiling up at him, raising a hand to stroke his cheek.
“Enough of that,” he says, smiling back. “You’re married, remember?”
Lena comes over and plonks herself next to Julia. “Whoa, Julia, babe—I hate to break it to you, but you look worse than I do, and I have the mother of all hangovers.”
“I have to say, Lena, cancer is definitely worse than a hangover.”
“Yeah,” Lena says, grabbing the hand that Julia lets fall from Max’s face. “It’s fucking shit. But we can help, can’t we, Tess? Paint your nails, do your hair, get some color on your face.”
I perch on the arm of the bench. “If that’s what Julia wants, of course we can.”
“Who doesn’t want a free pamper session?”
I look to Julia for an answer but instead she just says, “Oh, it’s so good to see you all here.” She leans her head against my shoulder. Lena’s still holding her hand and Max is crouched down in front of her.
Dad comes out of the house then and Lena waves at him. “Hey, Leo, come and join the party. I was about to break open the Prosecco.”
Dad’s face lights up at the sound of Julia’s laughing response and I’m glad—even with the woods looming up around me—so very glad I came.
I go in to help Dad make tea, leaving Julia laughing with Max and Lena. He smiles at them out of the window as he waits for the kettle to boil. “This is what I hoped for,” he says. “Look how happy she is to see you all again.”
I wrap my arms around myself, watching him put teabags in the old brown pot we’ve had forever, steam rising as he pours in boiling water.
“She really loves Max and Lena, doesn’t she?” I say.
“She practically brought them up after their dad accepted his job abroad.”
“At least they’re here for her. Not like her own sons.”
Dad shrugs. “They don’t carry the same resentment as Jack and Sean. It was always Julia rather than Greg they were close to.”
I haven’t seen Jack or Sean since the wedding, when they were witness to Bella’s death. They’re tainted with it, covered in the leaves and mud and death that covered my sister. I hoped, when I left home, never to have to see them again.
“She told me she wishes they were here,” I say.
Dad turns away from the window and pours the tea. “Sean’s here.”
“What?”
“He’s at Dean House.”
I think of that sense of being followed earlier. Was it Sean? Watching me?
“How do you know?”
“I saw him going in. I went to speak to him, but he’s refusing to visit. I haven’t told Julia he’s in the village. It’s bad enough they won’t return my calls, but if she found out Sean was here and still not visiting…”
My hands shake as I put my mug down, and tea spills on the table. “Those fucking boys,” I say. “Jesus—the last thing I want is them back in the house, but can’t they even give her this? After all this time, they can’t even visit her once before she dies?”
“Tess…”
“What? I’m not going to pretend to be nice, just because they’re Julia’s sons and she’s ill.”
“No, that’s not what I meant. Will you try?”
“Try what?”
“Go and see Sean—try and get him to visit his mother.”
I wait until Dad and Julia have gone to bed before I talk to Max and Lena. We sit in the kitchen so our voices don’t carry upstairs.
“What’s up, Tess?” Lena asks, fiddling with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew. “You’ve been trailing round with a face like a smacked arse all evening.”
“Julia wants to see Sean and Jack again.”
Lena looks blank. “Well, duh—they are her sons. Why wouldn’t she want to see them?”
“But wanting something and it actually happening is…I asked Leo and he said they wouldn’t even talk to him. I don’t think they’ll be popping in with grapes and flowers anytime soon,” Max says, peeling the label off the bottle of beer he’s drinking.
I rub my hands through my hair. “God, I’m so torn. The last thing I want to do is see them again, but Julia…Dad says Sean is here. Over at Dean House. He’s actually here and hasn’t come to see her. He’s such a shit. Is it really going to be good for her to see them again? When they haven’t bothered in all these years? Won’t it make things worse—or is that just me wanting to believe that because I don’t want to see them?”
“I don’t know. If it’s what Julia wants.”
I sigh and look at Max. “I know, I know. Maybe you should speak to him? You’re still friends—he’s more likely to listen to you than me or Dad, isn’t he? Perhaps Dad didn’t manage to explain how little time Julia has.”
Max and Lena exchange a glance and then look back at me. “He knows, Tess,” Max says. “I called him before I called you. He basically told me to stay out of it, that it was none of my business.”
“So I’m our last shot at getting him here?” I shake my head. “I haven’t set eyes on either of them since the wedding. I think…did I have a fight with Sean? It’s another thing I can’t bloody remember. There was something…something Bella said. I…”
My voice dies as lightning flashes in my mind. A thunderous roar and Bella…Bella’s voice shouting, screaming at me. Oh God, the storm, the woods, it’s that night. I’m remembering…what am I remembering?
“Tess? Are you okay?”
“Shh,” I say, pushing Max’s hand away and standing up. There. Clearer. Bella’s crying, she’s in her jeans and tank top, soaked by the rain. We’re in the woods.
“What’s going on?” Lena says.
“Wait,” I say. “I’m…I was thinking about Sean and I’m…Oh God, I think I’m remembering something. Something Bella said in the woods.”
“Tess?” Max sounds alarmed. “You look pale. Sit down. Take a breath.” He takes my arm and guides me to a chair.
Lena’s there, in my face. “What did you remember? What did Bella say to you?”
“Leave it, Lena,” Max says, and they start arguing and their voices drown out Bella’s and it’s gone. The moment, the memory, whatever it was, is gone.
“For God’s sake,” I shout, interrupting them. “I almost remembered something. It could have been important.”
There’s a long silence.
“Are you sure?” Max asks. “Sure it was a real memory? After all this time?”
“Maybe it’s being back here.” I realize my hands are shaking. Lena shoves a glass of wine at me and I wrap my hands around it. “Seeing you two again, spending time with Julia. Maybe…maybe if I did get Sean and Jack back here, I’d remember it all.”
There’s another long pause that seems to last forever.
“But do you want to?” Lena says into the silence.
“Of course I do. I was there when she died. I was the last person to see her alive, the last person she spoke to, and I don’t remember it.” I take a breath. “And…I had this dream. After Dad called to tell me about Julia. And it was so vivid. Bella was so real. What if it wasn’t a dream—what if it was some kind of memory coming back?”
They look at each other and back at me and I can see the wariness on their faces.
“Forget it,” I say, pushing my chair back. “I’m going to bed. I’m exhausted.”
I go upstairs and shower. When I go back to my room, rubbing my hair dry, I hear a noise from outside and go over to the window. Lena and Max are in the driveway, huddled under the light, Lena with a cigarette in her hand. I keep the light off and stay hidden by the curtain. Lena’s voice is raised and Max appears to be trying to calm her down, his hand on her arm. She shakes it off and points at the house. I step farther into the shadows, wishing the window was open so I could hear their argument. Max looks rattled, Lena angry. What are they arguing about? Me? Julia? Being back here? Or is it an older argument?
Max looks up then and I swear he looks right at me even though I’m hidden by the darkness and the curtain. He’s frowning and looks like a stranger. I step away so I can’t see them anymore. I guess he is. He doesn’t look like the boy I once thought I loved, but then, wasn’t that boy part invention anyway? I guess he always was a stranger.
What will Jack and Sean be if even Max has become a stranger?
I feel warm breath on the back of my neck and freeze in place, scared at who I’ll see if I turn around. I take a deep breath and dive into bed, closing my eyes. But despite my exhaustion, I can’t switch my mind off and my eyes snap back open in the darkness. Even long after Lena has come up and fallen asleep, I lie awake.
THEN
Chapter 9
October 2006
“Guess what?” Bella bounces into my room and throws herself onto the bed next to me.
