‘You find yourself searching your past

for the links in a chain’

(Mickey Newbury; ‘Frisco Depot’)

 

 

Jill Reeves sat at her dressing table applying her night cream. Bedtime beauty regimes mustn’t be neglected. Her husband, Peter, was already snoring. Damn. She’d wanted to discuss their son, William’s, future tonight. She had to put a stop to William’s friendship with Ellie, the Rankin child. At nine years old he should be mature enough to realise Ellie and her family were not the kind of people with whom he should associate. Her father, Tom, was a painter and decorator for Heaven’s sake and her mother, Linda, was a waitress at a restaurant in Kings Lynn. How could they possibly have afforded to buy a house here in the village of Burnham Market, a residential area way above their social standing? There was only one explanation. Tom must be some kind of criminal, possibly a drug dealer.

 

William and seven-year-old Ellie were inseparable. Jill had followed her son one day to observe how he and the little girl spent their time. She’d half expected the child to be passing him suspicious-looking pills and telling him they were Smarties. She’d been disappointed. The children had made their way to the lake in Wollstonecraft Park. A row of stepping stones led to a small island a short distance from the grassy bank. William held Ellie’s hand as she jumped from stone to stone. If she’d slipped and fallen into the water it might have put an end to Jill’s concern. She shook off the callous thought. William had been keeping Ellie safe. She was proud of him. He was a good boy. She must ensure he stayed that way.

 

Closing up her creams and potions Jill climbed into bed beside her sleeping husband. After breakfast, tomorrow, she’d tell him what she planned to do. She knew he wouldn’t argue. His role was to keep his Chartered Accountancy business thriving and supporting their lifestyle. Her role was parenting. The arrangement may be old-fashioned, but it suited them.

 

The following morning, after waiting for Peter to swallow his last mouthful of toast and marmalade, she pounced. “I’ve been discussing William’s future with Evelyn.”

 

He raised his eyebrows. “Who?”

 

“Evelyn, my sister.”

 

“Oh, the teacher.”

 

“Not just a teacher. She’s Deputy Head at Coleridge Academy, a very prestigious educational establishment. It would provide William with an excellent start in life and she’s agreed to arrange a placement for him.”

 

“Hang on, Jilly, she lives in Kent. Where is this Academy place?”

 

“It’s also in Kent, of course.”

 

“It’s a long way from Norfolk. He wouldn’t be able to come home for his dinner.”

 

“Don’t be foolish, Peter. He’ll be boarding there. Evelyn will make sure he’s well cared for and he’ll come home for the holidays of course.”

 

“Well, it’s not my area of expertise. I suppose you know best.”

 

Before the end of the month William was installed in Coleridge Academy. The day following the installation Linda and Tom Rankin reported to the police their seven-year-old daughter, Ellie, was missing. After an extensive search her body was found in Wollstonecraft Park Lake. Jill guessed she’d been looking for William and without his protection she’d slipped into the water. She told herself not to feel guilty. She’d done the right thing for her son.

 

~ * ~

 

Twenty-one years later William Reeves spent his thirtieth birthday in a prison cell. Blind in one eye, with only partial use of his left arm and a permanent limp due to a damaged right leg, he was not looking good.

 

Ellie’s ghost said, “You’re a mess, Will. We need to get this sorted out.”

 

Whenever she appeared to him she brought him comfort but he sensed her patience was wearing thin. He sighed. “It’s too late, Ellie. I’m a wreck. I wouldn’t know how to start.”

 

“We’ll start by working out what led you to this. Life is a series of links in a chain. Stop feeling sorry for yourself and start remembering.”

 

~ * ~

 

He remembered climbing into his car the night he caused his own injuries. He was raging with anger and horror at the course his life had taken and he drove with no care for the safety of himself or anyone else. He heard Ellie’s voice telling him to slow down but for the first time he ignored her. Exceeding the speed limit he veered over to the wrong side of the road and hit an oncoming car head on, killing a family of four: mother, father, a five-year-old girl and a two-year-old boy.

 

~ * ~

 

Ellie said, “That was the first link in the chain. Go back further. What caused you to drive like a cretin that night?”

 

~ * ~

 

It was all about Lillith. She was the singer in the heavy rock band, ‘Dark Eden.’ His friend, Justin acquired two tickets for their gig at Leas Cliff Hall and he invited Will to join him. Justin’s father, Bruno Tulley was a newspaper mogul. He’d given both Justin and Will jobs on the editorial staff of ‘The Daily Oracle,’ one of his tabloids.

 

Justin had said, “It’s commonly known as ‘The Orifice’ because it’s full of…well never mind what it’s full of. As long as the masses keep buying it, the money keeps rolling in.” They were paid an excessive salary for doing very little. The two young men, in their twenties, were tasting life’s sweet wine, or whatever.

 

Will accepted Justin’s invitation to the gig. He couldn’t remember anything Lillith sang that night but he couldn’t take his eyes off her. After the concert ended, he conned his way backstage by adopting the upper class accent he’d heard and loathed every day at Coleridge Academy. He claimed to be the son of Earl and Countess Reeves of Burnham and he wished to pay his respects to the lady Lillith. The roadies smirked and escorted him to her dressing room.

 

That was the start of their obsession with each other. It scared them both and they fought it. He would leave and find solace with other women but he was compelled to return. She would leave him for other men but the same compulsion brought her back to him.

 

Ellie warned him. “She’s a free spirit. She won’t let you possess her, just as you won’t let her possess you.”

 

“How did you get to be so wise?” He asked. “You’re just a child.”

 

“I’m not. I was a child when I died and I look the same because that’s the way you remember me, but I’m nearly as old as you and I seem to have learned more.”

 

Will told Lillith about Ellie. She said, “You can’t trust a ghost. They’re tricksters, the lot of them.”

 

She was wrong. He trusted Ellie, not Lillith. It was a hopeless, destructive situation.

 

“This can’t end well,” Ellie said.

 

She was right. After returning to Lillith from one of his flights to the arms of other women he found a boy, no more than eighteen, in her bed. Will flew into a rage. The boy grabbed his clothes and fled. Lillith slapped and clawed Will’s face. He struck back. She screamed she hated him. He tightened his hands around her neck and strangled her. She lay, lifeless at his feet. He howled, ran into the night and drove away in a red mist of pain and fury. With his memory of the car accident no more than a nightmarish blur, he awoke in hospital, severely injured and he confessed to killing Lillith.

 

After recovering sufficiently to face prosecution he was found guilty not only of the Murder of Lillian Morris, but also of causing Death by Dangerous Driving to Sean and Amy Blake and their children, Grace and Sam.

 

It was the first time he’d heard Lillith’s real name. It revealed her as a flesh-and-blood human being, not a demonic temptress who had held him in her spell. He wept for her and for the innocent family whose lives he’d taken.

 

“If you hadn’t killed her she would probably have killed you,” Ellis said.

 

“I wished she had.”

 

“Stop moaning. We’re going to put this right. Justin took you to the gig. He’s the next link. Remember your friendship with him. Go further back.”

 

~ * ~

 

They met at Coleridge Academy. Will hated the place. He was the outsider: the kid invading the space of Kent’s finest who considered everything north of Watford Gap was a lunar landscape. Aunt Evelyn was no help. She’d done her sister a favour by getting the boy a place here but she showed no further interest in him. He was alone and he was bullied. The Academy offered a multitude of sites for possible ambush. The stone steps leading to the cloakroom were secluded and poorly lit. A push from behind sent him hurtling down onto the highly polished red tiled floor below. A stout oak door opened onto rows of metal cloak-hooks, wooden storage shelves, shoe-racks, and shadows lurking in dark corners, waiting to pounce on him. He wouldn’t venture alone into the toilets, where taps gushing scalding water awaited and every toilet bowl became a potential instrument of humiliation and torture. In the dinner hall, plates were tipped into his lap, cups were spilled on him, knives and forks were used to prod and stab him. The long tables concealed his legs being kicked and his feet being stamped upon. The form room was comparatively safe, as long as the tutor arrived on time and was not called away. Without a tutor’s controlling eye, Will’s protractors and set squares were snapped in two and his pens were stolen. The geography room, with its high-vaulted ceiling, panelled walls and comforting smell of wood polish held no solace. Ancient oversized desks were topped with heavy lids that were slammed down to trap his fingers.

 

Justin Tulley, the resident bad boy came to his rescue. Justin was disrespectful, insolent, disobedient, and lazy. The tutors turned a blind eye because his family were wealthy, well connected, and generous patrons of the Academy. The bad boy’s redeeming feature was his hatred of bullies. With Justin watching his back, Will’s tormentors retreated. He was safe, if not happy and his gratitude formed a bond of friendship between them.

 

~ * ~

 

“This takes us to the next link, Will,” Ellie said. “If you hadn’t gone to the Academy you wouldn’t have met Justin. Why did your parents send you to that horrible place?”

 

“It was my mother’s idea. I found out when I returned home for the summer holiday.”

 

“Remember it.”

 

~ * ~

 

He recalled the conversation that changed his relationship with his mother forever. The villagers were still talking about Ellie’s death. When he heard about it he ran to her sobbing. “It was your fault. I should have been with her. She wouldn’t have fallen into the lake if I’d been there. Why did you send me away?”

 

Jill, in her ‘font of all wisdom’ voice, said, “It was for your own good, William. The Rankins are not our kind of people. They couldn’t possibly afford to live here unless Ellie’s father makes money from criminal activities. He’s probably a drug dealer.”

 

Will screamed at her. “I don’t care what her father does. Ellie was kind and clever and funny. You killed her. I hate you and I’m not coming back here again.”

 

~ * ~

 

“Your mother was wrong,” Ellie said. “We won the lottery. We had enough money to buy a house anywhere we liked. My father wasn’t a bad man. We’ve found the last link, Will. If you hadn’t been sent to the Academy none of those vile things would have happened to you and as a bonus, I would still be alive. So would the Blake family.”

 

“And Lillith?”

 

“Possibly, possibly not. But you wouldn’t have killed her. She’d still be alive and she’ll probably be killed by or kill someone else one day. Are you ready now to get your life straightened out?”

 

He sighed. “The only way that could happen would be to go back in time and I can’t do that, can I?”

 

“No, but I can.”

 

~ * ~

 

Jill puffed up her pillows before lying down beside Peter. The air shimmered like a curtain caught in a breeze. Ellie Rankin stepped out of nowhere and hovered above the bed.

 

Jill shivered. She must be dreaming. She pinched herself. Ellie still hovered. Jill closed her eyes tight. “I’m hallucinating. When I open my eyes you’ll be gone.”

 

“I won’t,” Ellis said. “Open your eyes, Mrs Reeves. I need to tell you something important. It won’t take long. Then I’ll go and you can fall asleep.”

 

Jill opened her eyes. “Do you have to hover like that?”

 

Ellie giggled and descended to the foot of the bed. “My daddy isn’t a drug dealer. We won the lottery. That’s why we have a lot of money. You mustn’t send Will away from me. If you do, very bad things will happen.” She vanished.

 

Jill pulled the duvet over her head, telling herself she’d just awakened from a strange dream. She knew she hadn’t.

 

Next morning, after she’d partaken of her daily cornflakes and segment of grapefruit, she asked her husband, “Have you any idea how Tom and Linda Rankin managed to afford a house in this area?”

 

He swallowed his mouthful of toast and marmalade. “A lucky lottery ticket did the trick. That family have more money than the rest of Burnham Market put together. They don’t need to keep on working but they enjoy it. They’re good folk. They even donated ten thousand pounds to the ‘Save the Children’ campaign but they wanted to keep it quiet.”

 

“How did you find out?”

 

“Linda told Shirley, my secretary. They’re great friends apparently. She was sworn to secrecy but Shirley can’t hold her own water.”

 

So, the Rankin’s menial jobs were merely activities that they indulged in for pleasure. They were good folk, extremely wealthy, with rather eccentric hobbies. There was nothing wrong with that. Jill’s maternal ambitions streaked into warp drive. “Their little Ellie is devoted to William, you know.”

 

“Well, they’re rather young for you to start match-making, Jilly.”

 

“Maybe, but who knows what the future may hold?”

 

Later that day Jill rang her sister. “Hello Evelyn. Cancel the Academy placement for William. We’ve decided it would be better for him to stay here with us.”

 

~ * ~

 

Twenty-one years later, Jill and Peter visited their son William, his wife Ellie, and their children: seven-year-old Ada, and four-year-old Arthur, to celebrate William’s thirtieth birthday.

 

Elsewhere, Sean Blake looked up from his newspaper and called to his wife, “Have you seen this in the ‘Orifice,’ Amy? One of their editors, Justin Tulley, has been murdered by his girlfriend, Lillith, the singer with ‘Dark Eden.’