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Make a Wish, Page 2

Stephen Aleppo


  Chapter 2

  I spot Avril in the pub five minutes later sitting in a quiet corner of the saloon with her boyfriend Alan. There are only a half a dozen or so customers, mostly office workers breaking homeward journeys for a swift drink. A couple of tourists listen avidly to some colourful tale being recounted by one of the local trawler men, who seems prepared to talk all night if someone else is paying for the beer. Alan waves over at me as he heads over to the bar to get the drinks.

  “What a creep.”Avril’s blue eyes flash dangerously as she takes in the story of both of my Marsden close encounters. “Now that’s one guy who really needs teaching a lesson. Pity though, he’s such a hunk.”

  “Hunk or not,” I sigh. “The man is devoid of all human feeling. He’s got about as much emotion as a house brick.”

  Avril drained her glass. “This one needs a bit of direct action.” She drawls before lapsing into deep thought that’s only interrupted by Alan’s return. He passes me my usual tomato juice and slips another large Dry Martini across the table to Avvie.

  “Thanks,” I manage, having to avert my eyes from his knowing grin as we eye her deep frowning expression. After what seems a near lifetime of being in and out of love with the dizzy blonde Alan knows all the danger signs better than I do. Avril’s moody silences usually mean trouble of one sort or another and she sits playing with a long blonde curl as he drops into the seat beside me and begins sipping half a pint of lager.

  We’re all keen environmentalists and saving Becmead Wood has become something of a crusade for all of us. We spend the next few minutes in silence, hardly daring to speak for fear of upsetting the complex if shallow thought processes working behind the furrowed brow. Avril is nineteen and almost a year older than me and she’s hardly changed since we first met at primary school. Still she’s as embarrassingly impulsive as ever.

  “I’m sure there’s something we can do to upset him.” She mutters darkly.

  “Upset him.” I reply, taking another gulp of tomato juice “The guy’s made of stone, I told you. So whatever you’re cooking up in that impulsive head of yours, forget it. He’s bombproof, understand? And he won’t be the type who plays by the rules either.”

  Avril sipped her dry martini and narrowed her eyes, oblivious to everything now except her scheming. “Wait a minute.” She says at last. “I think I’ve got a little plan.”

  Alan nervously pushes his spectacles further up onto the bridge of his nose. “Oh no I was afraid of that.” He says. “You’re not going to do anything daft again are you Avvie? In case you’ve forgotten, we still haven’t paid the fines from that last little jaunt. Another of your brilliant ideas, remember?”

  Avril grinned. “We’re not going to do anything illegal this time. Well, not too illegal.” “We?” I reply, fearing the worst.

  “Surely you’re game for a bit of real action Cath? After what he did to you, I’d have thought you would jump at the chance of getting your own back?”

  “We all know about your kind of action Avvie.” Alan frowned.

  “Yes and it usually backfires.” I add. But the idea of getting back at Marsden holds plenty of appeal for me, I can’t deny it. But there doesn’t seem to be any chinks in that suit of armour anywhere.

  “Look.” Avril hisses as she motions for us to lean forward as she scans the lounge for potential eavesdroppers. But it’s too noisy for possible spies to glean any information and she continues. “I was speaking to some of my chums in the Animal Rights Front.” We both groan and look into our drinks.

  “Shut up the pair of you.” She snaps. “The word is that our friend Marsden has had a team out in the woods for the last week collecting animals of every description and that they’re storing them up at Fulton Manor in special storage sheds until they can find a suitable site to relocate them.”

  I brightened a little then, surprised that Marsden could have any compassion at all.

  Alan’s thick eyebrows shot up. “Well what about it?”

  “So,” Avril says, “He hasn’t got clearing permission from the council yet as far as I know.”

  “Yes, but he’ll get that sooner or later,” I say. “He’s just being a good businessman that’s all. Being ready for when he does get the go-ahead.”

  “Yes,” Alan agreed. “At least he’s taking some responsibility.”

  Avril takes another sip from her glass, eyeing us both over the top of it.

  “Are you two kidding? Don’t tell me you’re starting to believe all the public relations crap he’s been spouting for the last few months?”

  Alan stares at her quizzically. “Don’t be ridiculous.” He says. “I wouldn’t trust that man as far as I could throw him and that ain’t very far.”

  “He’s just about the most obnoxious pig I’ve ever met too.” I add.

  Avril grinned. “Yes, but a gorgeous, obnoxious pig don’t you think?”

  I flush, anxiously determined to change the subject. “So just what you are driving at Avril,” I say. “It’s getting late and I’m tired. In case you forgot I’m supposed to be preparing myself for University. This is my first day out of the house since I left the Hospital and I got knocked into a ditch and then had a big row with that stupid oaf. This day won’t get any stars in my diary as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Well the day’s still young and we just might be able to even up the score a little.” Avril Whispered.

  Alan leant forward, impatience in his voice. “But how Avvie?” he demands. “How?”

  “What I’m getting at is this. Who’s to say what they’ll do with all those animals when the time comes. At the moment it’s a nice clean public relations exercise right? But once the Animal Rights people lose interest, what happens then?”

  I froze in mid sip. Not even Danny Marsden could be that callous.

  “You don’t mean they might .?”

  “They’re businessmen aren’t they?” She sneers. “They’ll do whatever they can to save a buck. You’re not that naive Cathy surely?”

  “And I don’t believe you’re that cynical.” I reply.

  “So you’re not interested in helping creatures who can’t demand their rights?”

  “I didn’t say that.” I drain my glass then, suddenly angry at Avril’s sly insinuation. It was a game she’s been playing with me since we were kids. Always trying to manoeuvre me into situations I don’t want to get into and it’s starting to wear a little thin. “Lawful protest is the only way of achieving anything.” I offer lamely, ignoring their sudden laughter and the casually interested stares from some of the drinkers around us. I groan inwardly and feel like a fool. “Alright Avril, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to hear your plan. You have got one I suppose?”

  The girl rolled her eyes comically. She doesn’t look up to carrying out any more of a plan than falling into bed and sleeping soundly for eight hours. “Yes, I’ve got one. Are you certain you want to hear it though?”

  I nod slowly, not at all sure I did.

  “We go up to the Manor tonight and rescue the animals they’ve got up there.”

  “And what good is that going to do?” I scowl. “Surely while they’re at the Manor they’re safe for now. Have you thought about where we’re going to put them? They may have badgers and foxes up there for all we know and how the hell are we going to handle creatures like that? They can be really vicious if they feel threatened.”

  “Oh that’s easy.” Avril says, screwing up her face with impatience, already past worrying about the finer points. “Little cute ones come with us, big tough ugly ones have to make off on their own across country.”

  Alan giggles to himself at Avril’s simple logic and even I have to turn away to look at the jukebox for fear of bursting into helpless laughter. Avril glares at us both.

  “Stop that, the pair of you.” She demands. “I’m deadly serious. We’ve got to do something, so let’s stop pussy footing around like everyone else seems t
o be doing around here and get on with something constructive, unless the goody goodies among us haven’t got the guts for it?”

  I scowl at her again. Avril always knows which buttons to press. “Never mind me.” I reply. “If you keep knocking that stuff back you won’t be in any fit state for anything.”

  Rebellious as ever, she simply raises her glass and empties the remains down her throat. Avril does have a point though. There has been a lot of talk about fighting the project but no real direct action and only the Animal Rights Front seem willing to do more than just talk but most of the villagers think they’re lunatics anyway and want nothing to do with them. A bit of direct action from some spirited locals might just kick-start some of the not-sures into a more militant frame of mind.

  “Well Cath, are you up for it or not?”

  “All right,” I murmur. “Count me in.”

  “Great, we’ll pick you up in the car at 8.30 tonight.”

  Alan shook his head. “No, its best if we make our own way there. Much less suspicious if anyone we know spots us all together. Cath we’ll meet you where that old barn burnt down last year. You know it?”

  I nod, keeping my expression even.

  “Now you will be there won’t you Cath?” Avril says.

  A twinge of annoyance hits me, but there can be no backing out now. “Yes, I’ll be there.”

  Avril’s ideas are always hit and miss but as naturally sceptical as I am about the proposal, I have to admit it does at least seem a step forward and the chance of causing Danny Marsden at least a minor headache is more than a little appealing and worth taking a risk for.

  The terrible empty feeling that’s taken up residence in the house since the death of my Father six months earlier greets me as I open the front door. Even the smell of good cooking wafting towards me does nothing to chase it away and I hurry through the dim hallway towards the kitchen. My Mother looks up from the pots bubbling away on the stove, the busy sounds doing nothing to liven up the dark atmosphere. Again she’s preparing an evening meal neither of us can face eating.

  “Where did you get to?” She asks, over the top of her glasses.

  I steel myself for what I know is coming and step into the light.

  “I went to the meeting after college and then to the pub for a quick drink with Avril.”

  But it’s too late. Mother’s looking rather than listening and her jaw drops comically as she takes in the horrible sight.

  “What on earth happened to you?”

  “Don’t ask!”

  “I am asking.” She begins. “That’s what Mothers do. They ask. So tell me?”

  I pause, loathe to recount the story and fearful of causing her any more grief. The woman is visibly greyer and has certainly lost weight in the past few months.

  “I came off the bike.” I say shortly, knowing there can be no reference to any kind of car accident.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Yes, of course.” I reply. “It was a minor tumble. Just a few scratches, a sore knee and filthy clothes to show for it, that’s all.”

  “So I see.”

  “And the bike’s fine too.” I add quickly. “So don’t worry. It was my own stupid fault. Not looking where I was going as usual.”

  My Mother pales and speaks to some invisible being hovering near the ceiling. “Don’t worry she says. I do nothing else where you’re concerned. Just try to be careful. I couldn’t take it if something else happened.”

  I bit my lip, desperate to avoid another of those agonisingly sad moments that seem to hang around the house in some sort of physical form waiting to spring out and mug us when we least expect them.

  “Well, you haven’t told me.” I ask. “Is it on or not?”

  Mother pulls a face and stares into one of the pots. “Apparently yes. Your sister seems to have got it into her head that at her age any man’s better that no man. I don’t know what she’s thinking of, really I don’t. Good job, great career prospects and then...him.”

  “He’s not that bad Mum.” I grin. “She’s been living with him for over a year.”

  Mother starts stirring the food vigorously again.

  “Not that bad? He’s almost as old as I am. It’s bound to end in disaster.”

  “Sonia’s twenty seven years old.” I sigh. “Don’t you think she’s quite capable of making adult decisions?”

  We exchange knowing glances then and swallow small smiles. “Besides, if I know Sonia, it’s her way of showing us that life has to go on. We all loved Dad. But he’s gone now and we have to start re-building our lives.”

  My observation only succeeds in drawing a scolding sideways look indicating that Mother is not ready to hear such disrespectful statements.

  “I made dinner,” She says flatly. “I never know what else to do at this time of the day.”

  The sight of so much food between the two of us makes me want to heave. It’s as if she’s been conditioned over the years to cook a certain amount at a certain time and now life had changed she’s completely unprepared for it and unable to alter her habits.

  “I’m not even hungry are you?” She says.

  Rather than see her efforts wasted, I lie. “Smells too good to tip down the loo again. I’m sure we’re blocking the drains out there.”

  I set about arranging the plates and put on the transistor radio on low volume. Glad of the inane banter from some unknown D.J. as he raves about what’s occurring in the pop charts. At least with a bit of sound in the background we can at least pretend things are normal. I don’t doubt the food is up to Mother’s usual standard, but with the way I feel right now it might as well be boiled cardboard. Since Dad died, the whole atmosphere in the house has changed and for me it’s worst place to be and every time I look around there’s something else to remind me of him. Bookshelves that don’t hang straight, crooked curtain rails, raw plugs stuck into walls that contained no screws where he’d made a mistake and had to start over. It all seemed funny at the time. No one realised how ill he was getting and eventually, for the last six months, he’d been confined to bed, until the awful day we’d all dreaded finally arrived.

  Now I’m out of the hospital myself and my legs have just about stopped hurting. I spend more and more time at the Animal Rescue Centre rather than having to face life at home and being reminded of it all over and over. Battling the constant guilt caused by staying away from my Mother’s side just when she needs someone to lean on more than ever.

  “We may as well start writing out the invites tonight.”

  “So you’re going to be all right about it?” I say.

  “Yes, of course. But don’t expect me to like it. I’m her Mother and I know I’ve got to show some support soon. If I don’t, I’ll end up losing her and that’s the last thing I want?”

  “Oh.” I reply, remembering my date. “I can’t tonight. I’ve got to see Alan and Avril.”

  Mother stopped eating and a suspicious look creased her brow.

  “But you’ve just seen them in the pub.”

  “I know, but we’ve got to discuss a battle plan to save the Animal Rescue Centre before it’s too late.”

  “Haven’t you got enough to worry you?” Mother scowls. “I’d have thought you would have lost interest in all that nonsense by now.”

  I quickly shove a spoonful of hot pasta bake into my mouth and the sudden pain stops me from screaming at her. “It is not nonsense,” I manage. “I just happen to feel strongly about it. The environment and animals are my whole life, you know that.”

  Mother shakes her head, not understanding at all.

  “I promised and I can’t let them down.” I add. “They really need me tonight or I wouldn’t go, honestly. You look as though you could do with a bit of company.”

  “Oh don’t mind me,” The reply arrives with a hint of acid in the tone. “Marjory says she’ll pop in later. Writing out wedding invites is right up her street. You kno
w what she’s like? I just wish Sonia would have let things ride though, at least for a little while. Until a more respectable amount of time has passed.”

  “Her life has to go on Mum.” I reply quietly. “Yours too for that matter.”

  We eat in silence and I clear away the plates. Both of them are three quarters full and we do the washing up together. I think about not showing up for the meeting, but if I let Avvie down tonight I’ll never hear the end of it. But if it wasn’t for Marjory’s visit, I know I would stay and forget the whole thing anyway.

  It takes a near superhuman effort to slip into my darkest and oldest clothes at around eight o clock. Thank heavens for Charity Shops I muse to myself as I don the bargain garb and check myself in the hall mirror.

  “I’m off then.” I call, feeling like a stray member of a swat team as I try to ignore the suspicious stare as Mother eyes the worn black jeans and jumper with one quick sweep of her grey eyes. “I won’t be late, promise.”

  “Mind you stay out of trouble.”