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The
Strange Case of聟
by
Almond
Aire
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The
author has based this piece on a well known short story, and a much
later film. But to reveal more would be to spoil the enjoyment of
this gothic tale, which was originally contributed to the Fantasy
Archers topic of the Archers
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Helen
came home early to Greg's tied cottage. Tired after a fortnight of entertaining
Greg's rather exhausting daughters, followed by a long day on her feet
in the shop, she was looking forward to a relaxing soak. In the bedroom,
she turned on the radio and began to strip off her clothes. She was down
to her underwear when she thought she heard a noise elsewhere in the house.
Helen was surprised because she had not expected Greg back so soon, it
was a busy time of year for him. She turned down the radio.
"Greg! Is that you?" she called, listening hard. Was that a
rustle? "Greg? Answer me!" There was no reply. Helen began to
worry. She went to the bedroom door and peered round it. Her eyes opened
wide.
"Who are you? How did you get in?"
***
The
next day, Pat called round to see her daughter Helen. She rang the bell
a few times, and knocked at the door loudly, but neither of these elicited
a response. Pat was puzzled, because Helen was expecting her. She tried
the door, and it was not locked. She went in, and standing in the small
hallway, called Helen's name a few times. She heard a rustling sound,
and turned towards the source.
To Pat's surprise a young woman a little older than her daughter was coming
down the stairs. It was not only the fact of her being there that was
odd, it was her appearance: she was wearing a long, high-necked and long-sleeved
dress that had a Victorian look about it. This demure dress contrasted
with her proud carriage and the knowing look on her face: such a beautiful
face, yet strangely familiar.
The two women regarded each other steadily. Pat spoke first:
"I'm sorry, we haven't been introduced. I'm Pat, Helen's mother.
She knew I was coming. Do you know where she is?"
"Helen?" the woman said, slightly dreamily. "No, she's
not here, sorry."
"And you are?" asked Pat, wondering indeed who this person was.
"Oh, just a friend. You know."
"A friend? Of Helen's? I don't think she's mentioned you. What's
your name?"
"My name? It's Eduarda. No, I don't suppose she has told you about
me. I don't really know her very well. I know Henry better."
"Henry?"
"Oh, sorry, I mean Greg."
"But you said Henry!"
"Yes, I did. Sorry, just a slip!"
Pat looked at the woman suspiciously. She had never liked Greg, and had
not changed her mind now that she had observed his brusque manner with
his own daughters over Christmas dinner. Now this stranger was telling
her that "Greg" could be confused with "Henry". She
did not know what to think. She was constantly trying not to judge Greg
too harshly for Helen's sake, as her daughter really cared about that
monosyllabic grumpy man. She decided to leave the subject of Greg on one
side, and concentrate on the woman.
"So, are you waiting for Greg, then?"
"Well, yes, you could say that." The woman smiled in a secretive
way.
"Do you live near here? This is a small village. I'm sure I'd remember
if I'd seen you before."
"Yes, I do. I don't go out much nowadays, so you wouldn't have seen
me."
Pat gave up. This Eduarda was giving nothing away, and was obviously very
pleased with her talking in riddles. Pat said goodbye, and drove back
to Bridge Farm, shaking her head over the encounter.
***
Tony
met Greg as he was leaving The Bull. "Hello, Greg," he said
cheerily. He was about to continue on his way when he remembered something,
and stopped.
"Greg, Pat went to meet Helen at the cottage earlier today, and she
wasn't there, but she said there was another woman there. We haven't been
able to get hold of Helen since, even though Pat's left lots of messages
on her mobile. I hope everything's okay, she's not sick is she?"
Greg shook his head, "No, no, everything's fine. She's probably just
been too busy to call back. I'll tell her when I get home."
"And the woman? Who was she? I can't remember what Pat said her name
was."
Greg looked momentarily confused. This was so obvious that even Tony noticed,
and he began to wonder if Pat had not indeed been right to be concerned.
"Er聟 she's my sister."
This reply silenced Tony for a moment. He wondered why Greg had been so
hesitant if this was indeed the case. A sister was innocent enough - but
neither Greg nor Helen had ever mentioned a sister before. However, there
was little he could say, except, "Your sister? It must be nice for
you to see her again."
"Yes," said Greg. He continued on his way into The Bull.
***
Two
days later, early in the morning Pat picked up an insistently ringing
phone, hoping it was Helen at last. Instead an unfamiliar voice greeted
her. At first she was puzzled, then realised who the woman was.
"Michelle? You're Greg's ex-wife?" Pat was astonished.
Pat listened as Michelle spoke. She sounded almost hysterical, and it
was difficult to follow her. Eventually she grasped the salient facts:
her daughters Sonja and Annette, due back in France four days ago, had
not arrived. Naturally, Michelle had phoned Greg, but had been unable
to reach him: his mobile was switched off and the answering machine was
always on at home. She had left message after message, but he had not
replied. Sonja had a mobile, but that was switched off too. Michelle had
tried Helen's mobile (Pat was surprised that she had the number, as there
was no love lost between the two women), also turned off. She had tried
the airline and the airport, but the girls had not been on their flight,
or on any later one either.
Pat could understand why Michelle was out of her mind with worry; she
would have been the same herself. She also knew what it was like to lose
a child, and would not wish that on anyone. Her own anxiety over the lack
of communication from Helen went up a very large notch. She tried to breathe
deeply, and think. Finally, Pat told Michelle that she would go over to
Greg's cottage, and let her know what she found out. Mouthing platitudes
that she did not quite believe, she bade Michelle farewell, and put down
the phone, with a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.
After asking Clarrie to carry on without her in the dairy, Pat drove over
to Greg's. The nearer she got to his cottage, the worse she felt. Time
seemed to slow down. She did not know whether she wanted to arrive or
not: would knowing be worse than not knowing?
She arrived at the cottage. It all looked so peaceful, a typical country
home surrounded by trees and farmland. Pat walked up the path, and rang
the doorbell. She waited a while on tenterhooks, and was just about to
try the door when it opened. The woman Eduarda, whom Greg had told Tony
was his sister, was standing there. She smiled that dreamy smile once
more.
Pat regarded her. Greg and Helen had never mentioned a sister. However,
Eduarda did look like Greg. Pat realised that was why she had looked familiar
before. She allowed that in this case she might have been too suspicious,
and decided to take that fact at face value. Eduarda was no longer wearing
Victorian style clothes. Pat saw with a sudden start that she was wearing
jeans, a shirt and a jersey that looked suspiciously like Helen's. She
forced herself to smile.
"Hello, do you remember me?" Eduarda inclined her head to indicate
that she did.
"Well, I've come round because Michelle has just phoned me from France.
She says that the girls - your nieces - never arrived home. She's frantic
with worry. She's been trying to call Greg, and Helen, and Sonja too.
All the mobiles are switched off, and Greg hasn't returned any of her
calls. I've been trying to phone Helen myself, and I can't get hold of
her either. Do you know where she is?"
Eduarda smiled in an almost friendly way, and invited Pat into the cottage.
"Helen hasn't been well," she said, "you must come in and
see her. She's in her room."
Pat stepped inside, and went upstairs.
***
Tony
was busy in the barn repairing the tractor when Clarrie came looking for
him.
"I'm sorry to bother you, Tony, but do you know where Pat is? She
went out earlier, but that was 3 hours ago, and she said she wouldn't
be long. We need her in the dairy, we're getting behind with the Underwoods
delivery, and Pat says they get really annoyed if we're late."
Tony looked up, and frowned. "Sorry, Clarrie, I didn't even know
she'd gone out. I'll phone her." Tony called Pat's mobile. It rang
and rang. Tony frowned. "She's not answering. I wonder if she's left
the phone behind somewhere? But it's not like her to do that. Did she
give you any idea where she was going?"
Clarrie shook her head. "She seemed really upset. She dashed off
in a real hurry. Could it be something to do with Helen? She's been trying
to contact her for a few days now, hasn't she?"
Tony nodded. "I wonder if she's gone to Helen's?" He tried Greg's
house phone, Helen's mobile and Greg's mobile, to be greeted all round
by instructions to leave a message. He then tried Home Farm. Jennifer
answered. When Tony asked if she knew anything about Greg or Helen's whereabouts,
Jennifer told him that Brian had been looking for Greg too.
"He's just gone over to his cottage to see if he's there."
***
Brian
was furious. It was an important shoot today, with clients who were friends
of Matt Crawford. They had no idea how to behave in the country, and most
of them were lousy shots, but that didn't stop them complaining loudly
if everything didn't go the way they expected. Greg knew all this, and
yet he was nowhere to be seen. Brian had tried phoning him, but both land
line and mobile were set to answer mode. Swearing profusely to himself,
and ignoring his promise to Jenny not to drive, Brian drove the Range
Rover round to Greg's cottage.
From the outside, the cottage looked quiet and peaceful, with Greg's car
parked beside it. This fact made Brian even angrier. He leapt out of the
vehicle, and strode up to the door, on which he hammered insistently.
He stood back and surveyed the frontage, looking for signs of life. Then
he noticed the door opening gradually, and Brian's mouth opened slightly
in surprise as he took in who was standing there. Unconsciously, he straightened
up, and tightened his stomach muscles.
A beautiful young woman with a mane of dark hair was leaning against the
door frame, regarding Brian steadily through lashes fringing dark, languid
eyes. She was dressed casually in jeans and a white shirt, with the top
few buttons open just far enough to evoke interest in the observer. There
was something familiar about her face, but Brian could not tell what.
He spoke first, and he did not sound angry at all: "Hello, I'm Brian
Aldridge. I'm looking for Greg. Do you know where he is?"
"He's not here," replied the woman, with a hint of a smile.
"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are." Brian sounded slightly
breathless. "Do you know where Greg is?" he asked again, but
he did not sound as though he was very interested in the answer.
"He hasn't been feeling himself lately. I'm his sister, Eduarda."
The smile widened, and the eyes flashed. "Why don't you come in?"
***
Tony's
Landrover drew up outside Greg's cottage. He was surprised to see not
only Greg's car parked there, but also Brian's Range Rover. Perhaps Greg
was ill? He went up the path to the door, and knocked. He waited some
time, and knocked again, feeling very confused. Surely Brian must be inside?
He heard a noise from above, and looked up to see a woman's head at the
open bedroom window. She was very attractive, even though her dark hair
was tousled. Tony wondered if she was wearing anything on her upper body,
as her shoulders were bare. The woman smiled at him: "Can I help
you?"
Tony explained that he was Helen's father. "I'm looking for my wife,
I thought she came over here, but that was hours ago. We haven't heard
from Helen for a few days. Do you know where she is?"
The woman told him to wait, she would come down. After a short while,
the front door opened, and she stood there. Tony found it difficult to
keep his eyes off her. She looked as if she had dressed in a hurry, her
blouse was buttoned up wrongly, so that Tony could easily see that she
was not wearing anything underneath, and close up her dark tresses were
even more unkempt. In spite of all this, she was undoubtedly beautiful.
Tony wondered if he had seen her somewhere before, but knew he would definitely
remember if he had. Unconsciously, he smoothed his hair over the bald
patch.
"Thanks for coming down. You must be Greg's sister?"
"Eduarda," she said.
Tony smiled awkwardly. Was that the back door he heard slamming? But his
attention was distracted by Eduarda's beguiling smile.
"Come in," said Eduarda.
Tony stepped inside.
***
Waiting
until he guessed the shoot would be over, Tony managed to find Brian at
Home Farm. He checked that there was nobody else about, and went up to
him, coughing to attract his attention. Brian turned round, and looked
very surprised to see him. Now Tony was here, he wasn't sure what he was
going to say. However, he began, "I've just been to Greg's house."
Yes, there were signs of guilt on Brian's face. He continued, "Your
Range Rover was there. And so was Greg's sister."
Was Brian going to brazen this out? Tony continued, "I met her. She's
very - er - persuasive. Isn't she?"
Brian's eyes widened in astonishment. He stared at his stocky, balding
brother-in-law in absolute disbelief. "You don't mean聟?"
Tony blushed and looked very embarrassed. "Yes, me too. I think she
must be insatiable. It's never happened like that to me before."
Then Tony remembered why he had gone to Greg's.
"Look, Brian, I went to Greg's to look for Pat. I think she'd gone
there to look for Helen, we haven't seen her for days, and she hasn't
returned any of Pat's calls. I phoned the shop too. Kirsty hasn't seen
Helen since Saturday, she's been wondering what's going on, Helen was
definitely supposed to be in work yesterday and today. Now I don't know
where either Pat or Helen are. Where's Greg? I want to ask him what's
going on."
Brian shook his head. "I don't know, Tony. That's why I went over
there, to find Greg, he was supposed to be running the shoot, but he never
showed up."
The
second and final part will appear next week
More
parodies - from Agatha Christie to Damon Runyon
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