Raven, page 25
The geese in the nearby pen sounded unsettled, but it didn’t worry him. He remembered that the geese made a racket at anything that spooked them. A prowling cat, a fox close by, even a hooting owl had once set them off. Oppo never took any notice of the geese.
He pushed his key into the lock and slowly turned it. To his delight the door opened and he stepped inside. The last time he’d been in his home, the king had sat on the throne of England but time had passed and now Britain had a new queen. The country had changed but glancing around indoors, everything remained as it had once been. Coats hung on hooks on the wall. Muddy boots were lined up underneath on the stone floor. The only difference was that his coat and boots were missing.
He quietly walked through to the lounge and found the same sofas, chairs and rugs in place. But something was different on the mantel over the hearth. Edward stepped closer to the large wooden beam. He leaned forward and squinted his eyes in the dim light to look at the framed photographs on display. He saw two of Stephen, one of his mother with Oppo and another of a family group. A heart-warming scene that didn’t include him. But there had once been a picture of him on the mantel and one on the sideboard too. He checked. The photos were no longer there. Fury rose from the pit of Edward’s stomach. He felt that he’d been eliminated from the family memories. No trace of him could be seen in the family room. He wanted to smash every photo of Stephen to smithereens, but the noise would awaken them. Instead he turned every photo of Stephen face down.
He sneaked through to the kitchen and saw childlike paintings stuck on the wall alongside colourful, very old pictures of Stephen’s handprints. There was nothing of him. It was as though he had never lived in the farmhouse, never existed. Edward carefully peeled one of the paintings down. He held it in front of him, studying the small figure with yellow hair holding hands with the stick lady, also with yellow hair, and the man, Oppo. Their gran could be seen waving from her bedroom window upstairs. Edward tore it in half and then shoved the painting into the rubbish bin. He picked up an apple from the fruit bowl and lifted out a seat at the large kitchen table. After three bites of the apple, he left it on the table.
Edward was keen to see his bedroom. He hoped to find it would be exactly as he’d left it, though he doubted that it would be. He crept carefully through the house and up the stairs. His bedroom was the first door on the landing. It was closed. He held the knob and cautiously turned it. What if someone else was sleeping in his room? He hadn’t considered that until now. Edward pushed open the door and stared in dismay at the mop of blond hair on the pillow. Stephen had taken everything, even his bedroom!
He inched towards the bed and stood looking over his sleeping brother. Right now, it would be so simple and effortless to snub out Stephen’s life. Hatred for the boy filled his heart. Stephen stirred in his sleep and rolled from his side and onto his back. Edward gazed at the boy’s neck and imagined his hands gripped tightly around it, strangling the breath out of him.
Before the feeling overwhelmed him, he moved away from the bed and mooched around the room. His eyes were drawn to a wooden train casually tossed on top of a pile of other toys in a box in the corner. The box had belonged to Edward. Oppo had used bright blue paint to write Edward’s name on the front. He crouched down and ran his fingers over the red paint that covered his name. The wooden train had also been Edward’s. He’d never enjoyed playing with the toy but now he noticed it had a wheel missing. Stephen obviously didn’t take care of Edward’s belongings.
Edward’s eyebrow twitched incessantly. His lips snarled in disgust. His bedroom was no longer his bedroom, and seething, he walked to the window that overlooked the backyard. The curtains had been left open, probably because Stephen was too frightened to have them closed. Edward smirked. He remembered how he used to tell Stephen nightmarish stories about the monster who lived behind the curtains. The boy was easily scared.
Outside the second door on the landing, Edward paused. His gran’s room. She’d be oblivious to the world, in a sleeping-pill-induced deep slumber. Until the night that he’d tried to feed Stephen her sleeping pills, he’d always believed that he’d been her favourite. But since that night, she’d never spoken to him again and hadn’t sent birthday or Christmas gifts. His aunt Charlotte had remembered his birthday every year and had even sent him money in a card each Christmas. But year after year, as the celebrations had passed, he’d been left disappointed when he’d received nothing from his gran.
The third door along had been Stephen’s bedroom. Edward passed that one and stood outside his mother’s room. He wanted to go in and look at her peacefully sleeping face, but Oppo was a light sleeper. He pictured the scenario of standing over his mother’s bed and Oppo opening his eyes to discover the outcast son had returned. A wry smile spread across his face. What was the worst that could happen? Oppo would probably want to throw him out, even wallop him, but he knew his mother would never allow that.
Edward turned the handle and crept inside. The heavy bedroom curtains were drawn, leaving the room almost in pitch-darkness. He could remember the layout and reached out in the dark. His hand touched the corner of the dressing table, and his fingers tentatively felt around until he found her perfume bottle. His mother never wore cosmetics but she always dabbed a drop of lavender water behind her ears. Edward removed the glass lid and put the bottle to his nose. He breathed in the heavenly scent. It smelt of his mother. After replacing the lid, he sneaked the bottle into his trouser pocket.
Creeping over to the bed, he strained his eyes to see his mum. Her long, brown hair draped over her cheek. Edward was tempted to sweep it back. He moved his hand towards her but snapped it back when Oppo grunted.
Edward had seen everything that he’d wanted to see tonight. He bent down and, ever so quietly, whispered in her ear, ‘I’ll see you tomorrow, Mum.’
*
Charlotte had taken a taxi-cab from the station and had tipped the driver. As she climbed out of the vehicle, Molly ran from the house to greet her, but Charlotte could tell from her sister’s anxious face that everything wasn’t well.
‘What are you doing here?’ Molly asked as she threw her arms around Charlotte.
‘I thought I’d come for a surprise visit.’
‘I’m so glad you’re here.’
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Edward’s been in the house, I’m sure of it.’
Charlotte’s stomach knotted. She’d had a feeling that he would show his face and she’d been right! ‘Did you see him?’
‘No, none of us did. Come inside, I’ll tell you all about it.’
Charlotte followed her sister into the house but as she crossed the threshold, she had an overwhelming sensation that someone was watching her. She paused for a moment and turned around, running her eyes along the drive and over the grassed areas that flanked it. He’s out there, she thought. She could sense him. Edward was close by and had his eyes on her.
‘I thought I heard your voice,’ her mother said as she came out of the front room. ‘When are you leaving?’
‘Mum! Charlotte’s only just arrived. She’ll leave when she’s good and ready.’
‘Well, I hope you ain’t thinking about staying for too long. I’m sure your husband will be pleased to have you back home.’
Charlotte felt Molly’s hand in hers. ‘Come through to the kitchen. The kettle is on the Aga.’
‘What’s her bloody problem?’ Charlotte spat.
‘You know what she’s like. Just ignore her.’
‘I don’t think she’s ever forgiven me for being a tearaway kid.’
‘Mum can hold a grudge, that’s for sure.’
‘Forget Mum. Tell me what makes you say that Edward has been in the house?’
Molly went to the kitchen door and quietly pushed it closed. ‘I don’t want Stephen hearing,’ she explained.
‘Is he all right?’
‘Yes, he doesn’t know anything so be careful what you say around him.’
Charlotte pulled out a seat at the table and Molly joined her. She leaned towards Charlotte and, her voice hushed, said, ‘He was here. I woke up this morning and had a strange feeling. When I came downstairs, I found a half-eaten apple on the table.’
‘Are you sure it wasn’t Stephen?’
‘Positive. Stephen doesn’t like apples and Edward would know that. He left it there for me to find. And then I noticed that one of Stephen’s paintings was missing. I found it just a few minutes ago in the dustbin. The thought of Edward sneaking around the house in the dark is just creepy.’
‘Blimey, it really is!’
‘That’s not all. In the front room, every photograph of Stephen had been laid face down. I think that Edward still has a grudge against Stephen and I’m frightened he’ll try to harm him again.’
‘No wonder you’re upset.’
‘I haven’t told Oppo this, but Edward was in our bedroom too.’
‘How do you know? Did you wake up?’
‘No, but my bottle of lavender water has gone. Oppo knows that Edward was down here but he doesn’t know he was in our bedroom.’
‘Do you think that he’ll come back?’
‘Yeah, I do. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to sleep again. Look… look at my hands,’ Molly said and held out her trembling hands for Charlotte to see. ‘I’m a nervous wreck. Oppo is going to change the locks. We couldn’t find any sign of a break-in so we think he must have a key. And I’ve told Mum that I don’t care how hot it is, she’s not to leave any windows open.’
‘You can rest easy,’ Charlotte said firmly. ‘I’ll stay up all night. Edward won’t get past me.’
‘Oppo said the same but he needs to sleep or he’ll be too knackered to run the farm. Thanks for the offer, but I doubt that I could sleep, even if I wanted to.’
Charlotte placed her hand over her sister’s, trying to reassure her as she said, ‘Don’t worry. We’ll get this sorted. Edward won’t be coming back into your home. I’ll make sure of that.’
‘How? How can you stop him?’ Molly asked, fighting to hold back tears.
Charlotte wasn’t sure what to say. She couldn’t tell her sister that she had a gun in her handbag. Despite all that Edward had done in the past, Molly wouldn’t want to see him hurt. If he attempted to break in again, she supposed she could try reasoning with him. If she could discover what it was that Edward wanted, perhaps it could be provided and he’d leave them alone. Maybe he didn’t want to harm Stephen. If he’d wanted to do that, he had the opportunity last night. Perhaps his intentions weren’t sinister and he just wanted to return to the farm permanently, or could it be money he was after?
But unfortunately, Charlotte suspected that Edward’s reasons for being in his old home were purely evil. And no matter what precautions they took to keep him out, she felt sure that Edward would be back. ‘Edward doesn’t frighten me,’ she said. ‘If he’s still around and shows his face, I’ll sort him out.’
26
Edward felt quite relaxed as he sat under the oak tree. He leaned back and threaded one daisy stem through another, just like his mother had showed him when he’d been a nipper. His mother loved daisy chains. And he’d loved making them for her. He used to grin with pride when he’d see her wearing one around her neck that he had made for her.
He placed the daisy chain beside him and looked around the trunk towards the house. So his aunt Charlotte had arrived. Edward wasn’t concerned about her presence in the house. Nor was he worried when he saw Oppo change the lock on the front door. Edward chuckled to himself. They were such fools! As if a new lock would be enough to keep him out. They’d probably keep all the doors and windows closed too, but Edward knew something that they didn’t. The lock on his bedroom window was broken and had been for years. When he’d been in the house last night, he’d checked it and had been pleased to find it hadn’t been repaired. He could shimmy up the drainpipe, easily lift the window and then he’d be in. Edward had done it many times before. He’d often sneaked out of his bedroom after being sent there for misbehaving. And no one had ever noticed that he’d gone.
Edward heard a chugging noise and saw Oppo leaving the barn on his tractor. He knew the man would be in the fields until early evening. He closed his eyes and pictured the inside of the house. His mother would be sitting in the kitchen with Charlotte, probably talking about him. His gran would be in the front room with her knitting on her lap. But Stephen, what would he be doing? Would he be in the bedroom? Or perhaps sitting next to his gran. Edward had no doubt that his brother had also stolen his gran’s affections, along with everything else that had once belonged to him.
He jumped to his feet and looked down at the daisy chain on the grass. Edward was about to stamp on the thing and grind the sole of his shoe into destroying it. But he didn’t. Instead, he carefully picked it up and using the cover of the trees, he snuck around the side of the house.
He surprised himself at his audacity. Edward was standing in the backyard, albeit close to the wall of the house so that he wouldn’t be seen through the windows. He edged along towards the kitchen window and ducked underneath. Stealthily raising his hand, he dropped the daisy chain on top of the flowers in his mother’s window box. Smiling, Edward sat there for a while. The kitchen sink was positioned in front of the window and he knew that his mother liked to look at her flowers when she did the washing up. She would see the daisy chain there and know that it was a gift from him. He was letting her know that he was still around. She couldn’t get rid of him as easily as she had when he’d been a child of eleven years old.
*
‘I’ll make us another cuppa,’ Charlotte offered.
‘No, you stay there, I’ll do it. You use too much sugar and it’s still rationed,’ Molly said, as she picked up the cups and saucers to carry them over to the sink.
Charlotte wasn’t watching Molly, she was busy looking at Stephen’s paintings on the kitchen wall, but suddenly she heard the sound of crashing china. Her eyes went to her sister to see that Molly was standing amidst broken cups and saucers with her hands over her mouth, peering out of the window.
Charlotte leapt to her feet and hurried across the room. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, and looked through the window too, half expecting to see Edward staring back at her.
‘The daisy chain,’ Molly cried.
Charlotte had no idea what her sister was talking about. ‘What?’
‘Look… there,’ Molly said, pointing to the flower box on the window ledge. ‘Edward put that there. He’s terrorising me!’
Charlotte didn’t doubt her sister. She dashed to the back door, unlocked it and ran outside. She couldn’t see any sign of Edward but the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end again. He was there, somewhere, watching her. She could feel him, just as she had when she’d arrived. ‘I know you can hear me, Edward Wilcox,’ she shouted. ‘I know you’re close by. I didn’t expect you to be a coward, but that’s what you are. A damn coward! Show your face. Go on, I dare you!’
Charlotte looked left and right and stretched her eyes to focus as far as they would see. Despite what she’d shouted, she didn’t expect Edward to appear. In truth, she didn’t think he was a coward, but he was sly and toying with them. It worried her how far he would take his games and she wanted to draw him out. ‘Hide away, Edward. Hide away like the silly, naughty child that you are. You’re not scaring your mother and you’re not scaring me. Do you hear me? Come and face me like a man or bugger off!’
Charlotte almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She spun around to see her mother with a scowl on her face.
‘Leave it. Come inside,’ Fanny urged. ‘You’ll only antagonise him.’
With a last look around, Charlotte followed her mother back into the kitchen and locked the door. When she turned, she saw Molly sat at the table in floods of tears. She rushed over to comfort her heartbroken sister. ‘I can’t stand seeing what he’s doing to you.’
‘I’m all right,’ Molly said through juddering breaths.
‘You’re not though. Look at you. You’re shaking like a leaf.’ Charlotte wrapped her arms around her sister, furious with Edward for putting her family through this. ‘Wait ’til I get my hands on that boy,’ she seethed.
Her mother’s scathing voice asked, ‘Why, what are you going to do? Take a leaf out of Georgina Garrett’s book and kill him?’
Charlotte was taken aback but before she could say anything, her mother continued.
‘That was Georgina’s answer to everything, wasn’t it? Don’t like ’em, so get rid of ’em. Well, you listen to me, my girl… that ain’t right. It ain’t how normal folk carry on. It only leads to heartache and pain and I should know. Look what happened to my Ethel. My precious girl died a horrific death because of Georgina. I wish we’d never got involved in the madness of her guns and violent, chaotic world. And you, young lady, you need to change the way you think. You need to see that you can’t carry on in the same way. I hope for your sake that it ain’t crossed your mind to do Edward any harm. Whatever that boy has done, he’s still my grandson, your nephew, and don’t you forget it.’
Molly had stopped crying and was listening to them. Charlotte placed a reassuring hand on her sister’s shoulder. There was already enough of a tense atmosphere in the house and she didn’t want to make things worse. ‘Mum, I’d never hurt Edward,’ she said, feigning hurt in her voice.
‘Is that right? So why have you got a flippin’ gun in your handbag?’
Molly gasped.
‘You’ve been through my things?’ Charlotte asked.
‘Yeah, I have. And good job I did.’
‘You’ve no right to snoop through my stuff!’
‘I’ve every bloody right! You’ve brought a gun into our home, Charlotte. It ain’t normal! I’ll keep saying it until I’m blue in the face… It ain’t blinkin’ normal. That Georgina had too much of an influence on you. You should have followed in your sister’s footsteps and got out of London years ago and away from that woman.’
