a shared soul and lost loves
Rain lashed down hard pelting the tarmac road with force that drove the years of grime out of the small cracks in the imperfect surface causing rivers of rainbowed oils to smash into greys of dirt. Paint flakes were stipped from their resting place on the century old rotting wood facade of the once imposing residential building now fallen from its historic glory into a dilapidated and haunting picture. The front porch had all but collapsed across the double front door and a stretch of balcony left hanging by years of neglect. It crashed to the overgrown front garden under the deluge and weight of the water hurtling from the turmoil of the enraged blackness of heavy cloud cover.
A car splashed through a large puddle sending a wave of grey water over the path as it pulled to a stop outside the house. Lightning coruscated driving all over light away highlighing in blackness the gnarled forms of dead trees and rotting timbers that once denoted the ownership line of the land from the rest of the world, now they left a ragged line that few dared to cross.
A police officer tentatively stepped out of the vehicle pulling his hat down hard to protect some of from the wet and failing to do this simple task as the wind took it from him and smashed it onto a muddied puddle. He ran, stooping to collect his hat and then made his way as quickly as he could around the remains of fallen timbers up to the front door as best he could. Shining a torch through the pollution encrusted window, pushing his face close to peer inside. He stepped around the building echoing his task through each of the windows he came to until he met a tall impassable wall. He retraced his steps back to the front and banged on the door calling out with words that were instantly stolen by the storm.
Believing his duties here complete the police officer ran back to his car and threw himself through the door as soon as he opened it and slammed it shut behind him sealing out the weather. The engine putted into life and the car drove off into the night as lightning cascaded in rapid succession. From a second floor window there appeared to be a new shadow which, when the next bolt of power struck from the sky, was removed from the window.
*
The police car turned along a busier street crammed with small brick building all huddling together along the frontage. Even in the rain people moved around in the open most had no choice but to go about their business scratching what living they can out of the street. Others had less options but to be out but sheltered as best they could in inadequate cardboard boxes or scavenged materials out of recycling bins like strips of plastic which now laid over hiding heads. Some, the gangs, glorified in the rain howling and baying intimidating any brave soul travelling on foot until they hurried away.
The law man was spotted by a small kid acting as lookout and the other members flocked to watch the vehicle drive past calling obscenities, gesturing with their hands or exposing themselves in shows of strength and defiance until they were left masters of their filthy street.
The police officer noted the faces as best he could of the gang but knew better to slow or stop in this neighbourhood to enforce the rules and regulations laid down by society. It hadn’t always been like this, this was once a family place filled with children playing and shops selling the daily needs of the thriving community. Until the refinery closed and laid off the full workforce, then the gangs grew up finding any crack to exploit and profit from. First alcohol and depression gutted the community and those that could moved themselves and their family's chasing the scare jobs offered elsewhere, those that could not move turned down their once proud heads and ignored the newcomers as they accepted their fate. Soon after a deluge of crime and drugs submerged the good folk until only the scum bobbed along on the surface like putrefied flotsam and jetsam from a wrecked cargo vessel.
The station house glowed with escaping light as the police officer parked in an empty spot right outside the rear entrance and he thought for a moment his luck was changing until he saw two of his colleagues struggling with a hoodied figure who was strongly protesting his innocence.
“Need a hand?” The police officer enquired as ran to the scene.
“We did ten minutes ago getting his stinking arse into the car. Although he was so high we would have needed the helicopter to have picked him up off the street.” Samantha, Sam to her friends and ‘The Bitch with the iron kick’ to those unfortunate enough not to be in the former list, was at the front pulling the apprehended towards the custody suite. Her long hair tied up as tight as it would go against her head, she had lost her hat and the wrestling had pulled long strands of gold out so it whipped across her face in the wind.
Steve said nothing, concentrating as he was about his business but he acknowledged the newcomer who lifted the detainee by the arms and carried him through the door and into the dry heat of the station.
“So Luke, any joy with the kids causing a disturbance at the old Fisher place?” asked the desk sergeant as the thoroughly wet police officer deposited the now resigned and moody petty criminal in front of him. Sam and Steve taking up position either side to ensure the custody room rules were adhered too.
“Name.” it was not a question and was addressed to the only non-uniformed member of the quartet on the public side of the desk.
“No comment.” came the reply.
“O.K Mr No Comment,” continued the Custody Sergeant, “Do you know your rights or shall I waste my breath telling you something you’re heard and ignored a thousand times before?”
There was no reply apart from a kick to the already well bashed modesty panel of the tall desk where the Sergeant stood to take details of all the visitors who decided to stay at the publicly funded bed and breakfast while they sobered up.
“Number eight is free, it's clean as I’ve just been in there swilling out after it's puking former occupant. It does have a strong aroma of bleach and stale larger though, but I’m sure you won’t mind will you Henry?”
Henry the hoodie was led away to a heavy metal door marked 8 and when the loud thud followed by the bang of an automatic retaining bolt springing into it's keep the Custody Sergeant turned his attention back to Luke who was drying off with paper towels from a dispenser on the wall.
“I’m glad it's you youngsters out there on nights like this and not me, tea?”
“Yes please Si, I’ll just go through and get this wet kit off and write my report.” Luke said as he waited to be buzzed through a locked door into the station proper. “No sign of any kids causing a disturbance over at the Fisher house, not that I expected any on a night like this.”
Tea was given, it was tepid and thin but flowed down a cold throat like nectar but even so, Luke refused a second cup. Sam came into the General Office and span a chair around so she could sit with the high back at her front, all the better to rest her arms on.
“Henry was stealing from the off licence again, always the same place and always the same stuff. It's getting so the owner doesn’t need CCTV to identify the thief, just a polaroid picture next to the door.”
The General Office was a bustle with activity as numerous police officers that filled a variety of descriptions found reasons to be in there in the warm rather than outside patrolling or chasing down leads to whatever they had on their cards. Even with all the experienced and stalling officers about a senior hand came up to Luke’s desk and sat on it pushing Sam out to third place.
“Don’t get yourself too dry, just had a call come in to a disturbance down on River Drive.”
“I’ve just been down there Guv’, looked quiet to me.” Replied Luke. “could be another crank call?”
“We’re stretched as it is but this is the third call to that area tonight and I want you to either find out what’s going on down there or find the caller and do the speech about hoax calls with extreme proficiency.” With that the pair were left to their tasks.
“Ouch,” Sam said.” Bad luck, I’m going for my break, going to get this jungle tamed ready for the big one later.” She continued pulling at an overworked hair tie until her hair spilled out in a frizz. She was totally lost within the golden strands which brought a smile to the cold blue lips on Luke’s face.
“Save the last doughnut for me.” Luke said as he began strapping on his stab vest and equipment belts. “Unless I succumb to pneumonia that is.”
*
The storm had brought down the power cables and plunged the row of respectable houses into darkness but it had also brought people together as they huddled around flickering candles talking to each other with glasses of wine in their hands. In some houses even the children had come out of their dark rooms to join the rest of the family in conversation whilst at all times wishing for the reinstatement of the power to continue their music listening too, virtual world gaming, instant messaging or social media’ing to continue - often all at the same time.
13 had a long tradition of being unlucky but to Grace it was the most magical of numbers. It wasn’t exactly her dream home but the one she had fallen in love with as soon as Daniel had carried her across it on a showing by a letting agent and as a practice for the day she had been planning for since she was twelve. The last three weeks had been hard work what with clearing out the clutter from the last tenants who were evicted for reasons never discussed after the letting agent bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood on the first asking of the question, but the rent was cheap, very cheap so a little painting and decorating on top of the mass clearout and huge amounts of maintenance inside and out didn’t seem such a burden. They, Daniel, Grace and Imogen due to the sudden cessation of crackling electrical lights decided to bring their endeavours to a temporary hault.
“Do you want more wine?” Called Daniel from the room filled with boxes that could one day be described as a kitchen. He selected a bottle at random as the light from his single slim candle now half gone didn’t illuminate anything past the mug pressed into service as a holder.
“Yes please sweetheart.”
“I wouldn’t say no.” came the duel replies from the next room.
Daniel walked back into the soon to be living room wincing as his socked foot trod onto an exposed screw head sitting proud from the uncarpeted floorboards before jumping onto a worn leather sofa in a room with minimal furnishings and smelled of fresh paint. The walls everywhere were uneven and unfinished with large cracks spreading out as if a monstrous spiderweb had colonised the building. He settled down with a mug full of red wine and strummed on his acoustic guitar filling the echoing house with a tune bitter sweet melody fuel with emotion.
“Is that my song?” called Grace from the bedroom, “It's beautiful.”
“It isn’t yet my love.” Replied Daniel noting down changes to the tune on a sheet of music grubby from the erasing of notation and numerous corrections. “It’ll never be as beautiful as you.”
“You will make it beautiful before you play at our wedding.” she said pulling herself in for another kiss. Daniel gently but firmly pushed her to arm's length before wiping away the residue of the kiss onto his paint splattered sleeve.
“If you think we’re getting married then you are as crazy as your sister.” Daniel commented picking up his guitar and using it as a physical barrier between him and the woman in the wedding dress. She looked hurt then punched him on the arm and grinned with white teeth showing.
Grace came out of the bedroom with hands clasped in delight. “How did you know?” She said. “Even Mum gets confused sometimes.
Daniel looked at the two sisters who were now side by side and were strikingly similar right down to the dimple that appeared on their respective right cheek when they smiled. “I will always know it's you.” Daniel said looking deep into her eyes. The two girls looked at each other and shared ‘ahh’s’.
“Even in the dress you knew the difference?” he was asked.
“Even in a dusty sack I would know you apart. What’s with the wedding dress? Isn’t it unlucky for me to see the dress before the big day?” he replied.
“Only if you saw me in it.” answered Grace. “There’s no mirror in this place yet and I wanted to see what I would look like in it with different hair and makeup.”
Imogen spun around in the dress displaying the finery of needlework and fabric. “You really can tell us apart everytime? How?”
“Yeah,” he continued. “Grace is beautiful, kind and has a wicked spark in her eyes…...oh and she has far nicer tits.” Before succumbing to the playful punching both started landing on him. They fell back onto the sofa and between them finished the bottle of wine.
A time passed with talk over futures and plans. Plans of weddings, parties and families full of joy but tinged with pain at the opportunities missed or never had.
“You know my sister fancied you long before I did.” Grace said causing Imogen to glow and look away.
“I know, but it was the beauty in the black dress and fingernails who won my heart.”
A smashing sound from outside caused the trio to stop talking and look towards the large bay window. Daniel stood and strode towards it taking a handful of heavy curtain that hung either side of it in each hand and drew them apart enough to look through to the scene outside.
“Is it those kids again?” asked Imogen who had got off the sofa but hesitated to go any further.
“I can’t see, it's too stormy to make anything out.”
“I’m going to call the police.” said Grace. “They can’t just come along here and terrorise everyone whenever they want too.”
“No don’t, it might just have been something blown over in the wind.” advised Daniel. “Or a cat.”
Lightning flashed which lit up the barren room through the smallest of gaps around Daniel’s head and the hanging curtains. He leapt back springing off his back foot and into the room, Imogen squeaked in surprise.
“What is it?” called out Grace but the sounds never came out as the window crashed in sending glass fragments cascading into the room. A baseball bat struck through the curtains and heavy boots trampled them onto the floor.
“What do you want?” called Daniel. The question was never answered instead the bat was brought down against Daniel’s side causing him to bend. A vicious downward stroke felled him to the floor where a steel toe capped boot caused a sickening crack and pop as it met the skull.
Screaming, confusion. Terror. Two more figures emerged through the gaping hole into the room from the rain, the first took hold of Imogen punching hard into her face and kicking her falling body. The last figure splashed liquid from a can around laughing through cracked black teeth. Imogen threw up and held her ice cold burning stomach, consciousness faded and the last thing she saw as the blackness avalanched in was two men raining punches down onto her sister and pulling at her clothing.
The last man ignited a flare torch dancing wildly around the room hooting and howling gleefully. He pulled at the leather jacket on one of the men before banging him on the head with the blunt end of the flair to get his full attention.
“Boss said fun after job.” he said with a whining slur.
“Un momento por favor.” but there was no moment as the heaviest set man leapt from his position zipped his trousers and slapped the flair to the floor burning the first man who showed his displeasure but with the sudden combustion of flammable liquids spreading the flowing flames which grew with each passing heartbeat. Smoke pushed against the fresh white paint on the ceiling and rolled out quickly filling the the small room pushing the broiling black life ending cloud
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