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The Strange Case of聟

by Almond Aire

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

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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