Discovering the Wolf



  Discovering

  the

  Wolf

  by

  Tracey

  Meredith

  A Short Story

  2016

  Published by Tracey Meredith

  Copyright Tracey Meredith 2016

  Discovering the Wolf

  ♣

  "Oh, for goodness sake, Mother!" cried Red.

  "What?" exclaimed her bemused mother. "What have I done this time?"

  "Cakes, Mother, cakes!"

  "Ah, well— there was this cookery program, about making cakes out of all those bits and pieces you have lying around in the food cupboard, and I thought, what a good idea. They'll cost virtually nothing to make and it will create a load more space in the cupboard— well, it will once they're eaten, darling.

  "Mother, we're supposed to be on a diet, remember? A diet, Mother! A non- cake-eating diet!"

  "Yes, but these cakes— er, once they're gone— will have used up all the ingredients in the house that I need to make cakes. So, while we have, admittedly, a lot to get through to start with..." She trailed off. "Actually, there are quite a lot, aren't there? But once they're eaten, we won't be able to make any more."

  "At all?"

  "At all."

  "You promise?"

  "Well— so long as we don't buy any more ingredients."

  "So long as you don't, you mean." Red looked at the racks of cakes. "Tell you what," she said, putting her hands on her hips, "why don't I take some over to Grandma's? She could put some in her freezer and heat one up when she wants one. She could have it warm— with a bit of ice-cream."

  "She'll forget she's got them, dear," sighed Mother. "You know, she's becoming quite forgetful nowadays. I'm getting a bit worried about her."

  "There's nothing wrong with Grandma's memory," said Red, taking a couple of bags out of a kitchen cupboard and filling them with cakes.

  "You think?" said Mother. "Oh, dear, she'll never be able to eat that many!"

  "Well, not all at once," conceded Red. "But in her freezer, one a day, she'll get through them."

  "Yes, but— "

  "But what?"

  "You haven't left a lot for us."

  "No, Mother," said Red impatiently. "I'm looking forward to seeing my hips again, and being able to see my feet properly when I stand up. Grandma is as skinny and as stringy as they come. A few cakes will do her no harm." Mother looked unconvinced. "They are going, Mother," growled Red, picking the bags up by frayed handles. "And if you're serious about coming out of your office's dinner-dance on Michael Graham's arm, I suggest you put those I've left behind into the freezer— now, before they start calling out to you to eat them."

  "Yes, dear," said Mother glumly.

  Outside, the sun was trying to shine, but not, it would seem, trying hard enough. Red gave an involuntary shiver. Perhaps she should have put a sweater on before coming out. She paused, considering the idea, but decided she didn't want to go back inside to resume the conversation about the cakes, or, God forbid, Grandma's memory.

  She put up with the slight chill in the air, and put the bags on the back seat of what they laughingly called a Smart car, before driving off to Grandma's. She was half way there when she remembered she hadn't put the car on charge that night. Unfortunately, she remembered this as the vehicle ground to a halt in the middle of the woods. Red cursed. She got out of the car and, with a great deal of puffing and panting, managed to push it onto the verge.

  She gathered the bags and decided to walk to Grandma's. The old dear was only about a quarter of an hour away; she would get the garage to pick up the car when she had finished at Grandma's.

  Red gave Grandma's yellow door a smart tap with its knocker. There was no reply, so she walked around the cottage until she came to the kitchen window. The sound of Grandma's old and much adapted television issued forth. Red tapped on the window pane and called, "Gran! Gran! It's Red. Do you want to give me your key, so I can let myself in?" She paused, and shortly Grandma's slight and wrinkly hand extended out of the window, offering a key on a yellow fob.

  "Jeremy's on," said Grandma, by way of greeting. Red rolled her eyes. Not Jeremy Kyle. Grandma loved the show, but Red couldn't abide it. Maybe she could find something in the garden that needed doing— at least until Kyle had finished. She peered at the windows. They looked like they could do with a good wash.

  She returned to the yellow door and let herself in. Grandma was in the kitchen, watching her ridiculously tiny, long serving, box-like TV, from her high backed armchair. She gave a nod of acknowledgement to Red, before returning to her program. Red carefully put the bags of cakes down and switched the kettle on. She then began bagging up the cakes into smaller amounts, all the time trying not to listen to the ridiculously sensation-stirring show Grandma was watching, with its ridiculous people and their ridiculous lives. Every now and again, she would attract an irritated "Shh!" from the old lady.

  The kettle boiled. Red made Grandma a cup of tea, and presented it with a couple of Mother's cakes. Grandma's eyes never left the TV set, despite the rattle of cup on saucer. That's all right, Grandma, no trouble, thought Red to herself, mildly annoyed, as she was most times she visited Grandma.

  She went out to the shed to get herself a bucket, and proceeded to clean the windows. When she returned to Grandma, the credits were rolling up the TV screen; but it appeared it was to be an afternoon of back to back Jeremy Kyle shows, and Grandma was too engrossed in them to bother with so much as a glance at her granddaughter. The granddaughter grimaced and noticed, with some annoyance, that both cakes and tea had been consumed.

  Red decided she might as well ring the garage and meet them at the car. She was obviously not going to get much in the way of scintillating conversation from Grandma today. She put her hand in her back pocket to get her phone— and her heart sank. She hadn't brought it with her. She gave a long, drawn out sigh. It was starting to turn into one of those days. She tried to remember; had she taken it into the car with her? She thought she had, but she couldn't be sure. She wondered if Grandma had a telephone directory in the house.

  "Grandma," began Red as she walked into the kitchen. "Have you— ?" Grandma shhed her, and gave a dismissive wave of the hand. Apparently the show was reaching its climax.

  Red found the phone book and rang the garage. A familiar voice answered. "Exmoor Garage," it said in deep tones. Red's stomach lurched.

  "Oh, hi," said Red, smoothing down her hair and adjusting her t-shirt.

  "Oh, hi, Red," said the voice on the phone. "What can I do for you today?"

  "Well," said Red. He was going to think her so stupid. "Um, you know that electric car you sold me?"

  "Er, yeah," replied the voice. "Is there a problem with it?"

  "Um, sort of. Yes. Well, you're going to think me so stupid. I was driving to Gran's and you'll never guess what happened."

  There was a brief pause before the voice suggested, "You didn't charge it up last night and you ran out of juice half way there?"

  "Er, yes!" said Red, surprised. "Are you psychic or something?"

  "No, Red," sighed the voice. "Almost everyone who gets one of those forgets to plug them in sometime or another. Where are you?" Red told him. "Yeah, I know where that is. Look, I've got to finish off this car, then I can come out to you, okay? I'll ring you back when I'm on my way."

  "I'm at Grandma's," Red reminded him. "I— er— " He was going to think she was really stupid now. "I forgot my phone."

  The voice gave a little laugh. "You'd better give me Grandma's phone number, then."

  ♣

  The job at the garage was evidently more than just finishing off. Red had done every job that she could possibly do for Grandma, a
nd was looking into that dark tunnel of oblivion, that was non-stop episodes of the Jeremy Kyle Show for the rest of the evening, when the phone rang. She snatched it up. "I'm on my way," said a voice.

  "I'll meet you there," said Red hurriedly.

  "No," came the firm reply. "It's starting to get dark. There's a full moon tonight. I'll pick you up at your grandma's and then bring you back to your car." There was a chirrup and the line went dead.

  Red frowned. What? What did he mean, there's a full moon tonight? Was it his idea of a silly joke?

  Another episode of Jeremy Kyle ended. Another episode started. Red rolled her eyes and reached a decision. She would give him ten minutes, to ensure he had started out, then go and meet him at the car. A full moon, hey? Maybe that was why they were running back to back episodes of Jeremy Kyle.

  ♣

  As she trudged the half mile or so to her car, Red suddenly became very aware of how quickly night fell this time of year. It was a clear night as well, and the temperature had fallen just as quickly. She shivered, wishing she had brought a sweater.

  The moon was just rising as she entered the woods. It was large and bright as it leered over the trees at her, lighting up the road in silver and making the shadows contrast darkly.

  She had nearly reached her car when she heard a howl. She stopped, and cocked an ear. It sounded quite near. She shook her head. It was probably a dog— a dog locked out in the garden or something, and howling to get in. There was another howl. Then another. Did they sound nearer? No, it was just her mind playing tricks... wasn't it?

  She could see her car now, and as she began hurrying, she heard another howl— and it was nearer, there was no denying it. Then she heard a snarl. It was definitely a snarl! She fumbled in her pockets, feeling for her keys, panic beginning to bite. She had broken into a jog now, and she could swear she could hear panting and the sound of claws on tarmac behind her.

  She unlocked the door as she approached her car, finding her keys in the pocket she had already checked twice. Her body cast its black shadow over the door and she couldn't find the latch to let herself in. The sound of claws was getting nearer. Her heart was pounding and her throat dry. "Stop panicking, stop panicking," she told herself, resisting the urge to turn, to see what was coming.

  Suddenly, her fingers found the latch. She threw open the door, jumped in, slammed the door shut and locked it, hoping to God that all this was just her imagination, and wishing she had obeyed instructions and waited to be picked up.

  There was an almighty crash against the driver's door, a crash that rocked the little electric car violently. "Oh my God!" Red almost screamed, holding on to the handle above her head. Suddenly, a huge pair of paws slammed into the driver's window, followed by a pair of snapping jaws. Red scrambled backwards into the passenger seat, her eyes wide with terror. There was another crash against the driver's window, and this time the glass cracked. Red could feel panic wrapping itself around her chest now. Dear God, what was it? Some kind of mad dog?

  There were lights. Oh, please let it be a car, please let it stop, she prayed to herself.

  It was a truck and it did stop— it stopped right next to the driver's window. The face of a man peered down at her. Oh! thank God! It was Connor!

  "Open it! Open it!" he shouted at her, trying the handle. "Open it! Quickly!" She pulled the latch, and he reached into the car and dragged her out. "Into the van! Quickly!" he urged her, opening the passenger door and almost throwing her inside. He rushed round to the other side, leapt in and slammed the door. "Lock it!" he ordered her, pulling his own lock across as he said it. As she turned to lock hers, something crashed against the door. A snarling muzzle appeared at her window, teeth shining bright in the moonlight. Connor took off the handbrake, put his foot on the accelerator and screeched off.

  "What the Hell were you doing out here?" Connor almost yelled at her. "I told you to wait for me at your gran's! You could have been killed, you— you— idiot!"

  "I— I— " was all Red could manage. There was an awkward silence. "What was that?" she said at last. "Someone's dog— it— is it someone's dog? A stray?"

  "That was no dog," growled Connor.

  "Then what was it?" asked Red.

  "What did it look like? You must have got a good look at it. What did it look like?"

  "Well— a dog," said Red, perplexed. "Well, actually, it looked more like a wolf."

  "Yeah," interrupted Connor. "A wolf."

  "A wolf," repeated Red. "In England?" She paused. "Has it escaped from a zoo, or something?"

  "No," growled Connor. "It's not escaped."

  "Then, where has it come from?"

  "Come from? That, I don't know."

  The pair fell silent as Connor drove Red home and escorted her to her front door. He waited while she found her keys and let herself in. As she walked over the threshold, Connor said, "Stay inside tonight. And the next few nights. Until the full moon wanes. And don't answer your door to anyone— not once the full moon starts to rise."

  "What—?" began Red. But Connor had returned to his truck.

  "Shut the door!" he barked. "And make sure all your windows and doors are locked. Do it now!" He got into his truck and drove off, leaving the "What..?" lingering on Red's lips.

  "Who was that?" came a voice behind her. Red jumped and then realised it was Mother.

  "Oh, no one. Just Connor."

  "Connor?" said Mother knowingly.

  "What do you mean, Connor?"said Red, annoyed by the suggestion in her mother's tone.

  "Well, he's got a thing for you, I think."

  "Nonsense, Mother," said Red, starting to check that the windows were locked. She didn't know why she was doing it, but there had been something about the normally sensible Connor's behaviour tonight that made her feel uneasy. She took his advice and made sure all the windows and doors were locked.

  "What are you doing that for?" Mother asked, following her around the house.

  "Um, Connor said there had been a few break-ins in the area," Red lied. "Some people have been woken up by burglars in their houses." This explanation appeared to satisfy Mother's curiosity.

  Red went to bed shortly afterwards. It had been a busy day, she told herself. It had nothing to do with that creature in the woods.

  She awoke in the night, and almost convinced herself that someone was trying to get in through her bedroom window. She switched on her bedside lamp, but could hear nothing. Eventually, she persuaded herself it was just her nerves playing her up. But she went to sleep with her bedside lamp still on, just in case.

  ♣

  "Well, he just came out and said it," explained Mother. "I didn't know what to say."

  "What did you say?" asked Red, trying her best to sound interested. "In the end? What did you say? Yes, I hope. You've been going on about him for the last six months. Please tell me you said yes." Mother, for once, was silent. "You said no?" said Red.

  Mother shrugged and gave a grim smile. "When it came to it," she sighed, "I couldn't do it. It felt like— like— a betrayal." She looked glum.

  "A betrayal?"

  "Your dad," Mother reminded her.

  "Mother, Dad's been gone ten years—"

  "Fifteen," corrected Mother.

  "Well, that's even worse," continued Red. "You're still young—as widows go."

  "Oh, thanks," sneered Mother.

  "You know what I mean," said Red. She frowned. "Are you sure it is Dad? It's not because you're afraid to get on the roundabout again?"

  Mother blushed a little and gabbled. "Oh, no, no, no, it's not that, though..." She paused. "I've got used to being on my own, Red. I don't think I can be bothered having to worry about someone else again."

  "Yes, but Mother—"

  "No, don't Mother me! Anyway, you're hardly beating them off with a stick, are you?"

  "No, Mother. Thank you for that." Red looked fondly at her mother. "Are you sure?" she said. "That's what you want?"

  Mother t
hought for a moment. "Yes. I think so," she said. "And even if I wasn't, I've turned him down now. I don't think Michael Graham is likely to ask me again. So, I'll just enjoy my widowhood, if you don't mind. With my spinster daughter."

  "Oh, Mother!" exclaimed Red. "Spinster's an awful word. I prefer happily single."

  "Yes," chuckled mother. "Happily single will do very nicely." She paused. "Shall we go out later? You know— to celebrate our singleness?"

  "Oh!" said Red, sounding more awkward than she intended. "When later? Only..."

  "Only what?"

  "Only, I was going to take the car over to the garage..."

  "Again?"

  "It's still got a bit of a niggle."

  "What? From that thing in the wood? That was a month ago!"

  "Yeah, well, it's still not right."

  "Are you sure he's a mechanic, Red?" asked Mother. "You've been up there with one "niggle" or another at least four times." She raised her eyebrows suggestively. "If he's unable to sort out your niggle after four goes, perhaps you ought to go and see someone else."

  "Mother!" sighed Red, stalking out of the room.

  She pulled in at the garage ten minutes later. "You here again?" came a gruff voice, as she got out of the car.

  "Oh. Hi, Derek," said Red. "You made me jump."

  Derek snorted and wandered off to attend to something. "It's about time you two got yourselves sorted out," he muttered in a loud voice, as he ambled off. Red stared after him.

  She walked to the office, searching for Connor. He looked up from some paperwork as she opened the door. "Oh! Thank God!" he said. "Just what I needed!"

  "Pardon?" said Red, not sure if he was being sarcastic.

  He threw his pen across the desk. "An hour, Red," he snarled. "For an hour— staring at these ruddy figures, and I'm still non the wiser what any of them mean." He glared at the ledger, and then back up at Red, a pleading look on his face. "Please tell me that car of yours has got another mysterious niggle!"

  "As it happens, yes it has."