A Death Displaced (29 page)

‘Sounds like you’ve got it all worked out,’ said Nick. Fintan was a garden designer. He’d studied it as a subject, but as it was also his father’s line of work, he’d learnt a lot from him.

‘Yeah, man. But I came in to let you know I’ve got more free time than I thought I’d have; this contract’s easy. It’s for some apartments. They want balcony gardens, so I just have to do one design and then they’ll copy and paste it for the standard apartments, and I’ll do some fancier designs for the penthouse balconies. Easy. Anyway, if you still want to hang out, then this weekend’s good for me, buddy.’

The smile that appeared on Nick’s face was impossible to hold back. Fin was the perfect person to talk with about the visions. They’d been friends for as long as Nick could remember. Growing up, they’d discussed every subject under the sun. Fin would understand.

Will he understand? Would I believe him if he told me?
Nick would find a way to ease into the discussion, maybe even try to bring on a vision to prove it. He’d think of something. It had been ages since he’d spent time with his best friend, so just the idea of socialising with someone who understood him was a comfort.

‘That sounds great.’ Nick smiled. ‘I’ll call you later in the week, yeah?’

‘Nice. See you around then, bud.’

Watching Fin leave the store, Nick grinned, and then a harsh finger prodded into his back. ‘Owwwwwch,’ he exaggerated, swivelling on the spot.

Janet’s face was unimpressed. ‘Oh, come on, Nick, man up! That didn’t hurt.’ She changed her expression fast to a more pleasant one. ‘I’m going to set you up with someone, okay? I’ve decided. You’re wasting your life. I bet you’re hunky friend Fin has a girlfriend.’

‘I don’t think he does at the moment, actually.’

‘Hmm, well … this isn’t about him. It’s about you, and you need a woman.’

Nick shrugged as a response, and Janet looked at him quizzically before talking again. ‘What’s wrong with you, Nick? You’re not protesting or getting all irate like you usually do.’ She frowned.

‘I don’t know. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should try to meet someone.’

She squealed with excitement and slapped his arm. Her brown hair bobbed on her shoulders as she celebrated. ‘I know the
perfect
girl for you. I’m going to talk to her mum tonight and sort something out. Oh!
And
I’ll do a Good-Luck-With-Love spell for you tonight. Send some good energy you’re way.’

Thanks. I need it!

He thought about Juliet again, and this time his outlook was more positive. Maybe meeting Juliet was necessary so that he could feel ready to date again.
It doesn’t have to be her.

‘
Oooo, how exciting,’ Janet said, and then sauntered off with a wide gummy-toothy smile.

It was turning out to be a good day. Nick was happy for Tom and Michael, he was excited to hang out with Fin and to share everything on his mind, and now it seemed the right time to date again. There must be other women out there as intriguing as Juliet.

Stop comparing. She’s out of the picture!
‘Okay,’ he agreed with himself aloud.

When he got home that night, he found himself wondering if magic rituals or spells had any power. Local Wiccans like Mora and Janet ‘casted’ spells for simple things like protection of their family and property. Did they actually work?
Surely not, else there would be more people practicing magic. Wouldn’t there?

Seeing the future was possible, and seeing ghosts, and there was an Otherworld …
And don’t forget
the telepathic portal for Christ’s sake!

But were they magic? Did those abilities really give any control over anything? He thought that magic was used to influence things, like levitating objects or mysteriously making items disappear. Or wishing for and receiving wealth, other material objects, fame or power. Or was it more subtle than that? Were apparent coincidences actually magic at work?

I think too much.
 

Before going to bed, Tom rang and said that Tommy was getting anxious and wanted to talk to their dad already. Nick stressed that he would come over in a couple of days, and that it was important they tackle it in the right manner. Tom said he’d persuade his twin brother to calm down and wait.

He slept easy, again.

Chapter 24

Juliet stared at the elderly woman in front of her. Her grandmother look-alike had a warm smile on her face. ‘Juliet,’ the old lady said, wistfully. Then she stepped forward to embrace her granddaughter, but Juliet took a sharp step back.

The air around the woman wasn’t twitching. It looked normal. Juliet cautiously extended her right arm and touched the lady’s shoulder. She was solid. ‘You’re not dead,’ she confirmed aloud.

‘Dead? Sweetheart, why would you think I was dead?’ The aged version of her grandmother asked. Even as the woman spoke, Juliet nostalgically recognised her voice.  

‘You died when I was thirteen.’

With a bewildered expression, Juliet’s gran said, ‘Is that what your mother told you? That I was dead?’ Juliet nodded as a reply. Her grandmother continued. ‘I knew my daughter could be spiteful, but I never expected she would tell such a lie.’

‘It really is you, Gran. Isn’t it?’

‘Yes, sweetheart.’ The way her grandmother said ‘sweetheart’ was gentle and authentic. Juliet heard her mother’s voice in her head and noticed the stark contrast between her mother’s mechanical, false manner and how genuine her gran sounded.

‘I don’t understand,’ said Juliet. But then she
did
understand. The sudden realisation hauled along with itself a mountain of anger.
Why? Why would my mum do that?
‘Where have you been for the past twelve years?’ she asked.

‘May I come inside please, Juliet? I’m letting the cold into your home.’

Juliet stepped aside. Her grandmother walked slowly and prudently in her age, and she paused to admire the house. ‘It looks so different to how I remember it,’ she said expressively. ‘Although, I can still see you stood right there, Juliet.’ Her gran pointed at a spot in the hallway. ‘It’s a funny memory; you ran up to me and asked if my hair was really a wig. Oh, I had to laugh!’ And she laughed again now, a genial hoot. ‘Your father always told you little fibs about me. Do you remember?’   

It took a moment, but Juliet did recall the memory and how awkward she had felt at her gran’s reaction. ‘I remember, yes.’

Her gran laughed some more. ‘And now years later I still have my hair. It may be grey, but at least it’s mine.’

‘You look wonderful, Gran. But, I … I need to know why you haven’t come to see me for all these years.’

‘Of course. I know. I would love to sit down. Do you have tea? I can make it myself.’

Juliet nodded towards the kitchen. ‘I’ll make it. How do you have it?’

Her grandmother said how she liked her tea while they walked into the large kitchen. Juliet motioned a hand towards the dining table, and her gran sat down.

While the tea brewed, so did Juliet’s mind.
Why did Mum lie to me?
In her thoughts,
s
he stirred the moment when she’d told her mother about the car incident. The way her mum had showed so little concern; she might as well have talked about the weather.

Juliet startled herself, accidentally slamming the drawer shut when she got out a teaspoon. Her body was tense with anger.

‘Are you okay, sweetheart?’ her gran asked.

‘I will be in a minute.’

With a deep breath, she finished preparing the tea. She realised she didn’t know her gran’s name. It had always been ‘Gran’ to her when she was younger. After her grandmother had ‘died’, she never asked her parents questions about her, or if she had she didn’t remember.

‘What’s your name, Gran?’

‘I go by Lillian Kitchener now.’

‘Kitchener? That’s not my mother’s maiden name.’

Lillian smiled in an almost sad way. ‘No, it’s not. I’ll explain.’

Juliet handed over the mug and offered to hang up her gran’s coat. Lillian took off her grey gloves, put them in her coat pocket, then removed her scarf and coat and passed them to Juliet. After hanging the items near the front door, Juliet returned. She sat with a straight spine and waited.

‘I’ve been living in England,’ Lillian began. ‘In fact, I’ve always lived in England, in Bath. I used to visit here to stay with your parents, so that I could see you.’

Juliet remembered now, recalling the excitement she’d felt each time she knew her gran was coming to stay … and then the sudden news that Lillian wouldn’t be visiting again. She clenched her teeth, resenting how heartless her mum had been to tell a thirteen year old that their living gran was dead.

‘You were about eight, I believe, when your parents won the lottery,’ said Lillian. ‘You must recall moving into this house, and suddenly going on more holidays, having everything you wanted bought for you.’

She did, though the memories of where she used to live were faint. It had been a small townhouse in Amiton, and that was all she cared to remember. But she did have strong images of the first time she’d seen this home. The size of it was like nothing she’d ever dreamed of at that age.

‘How did you know that Mum and Dad weren’t still living here now?’

‘I didn’t. Not until today. I just wanted to see you. And if you’re mother or father would have answered the door … well, then I certainly wouldn’t have left until I got to see you.’ Lillian nodded as if to affirm to herself she really would have stood her ground. ‘I came here this morning but no one was home, so I knocked at the house across the road. The gentlemen there told me that you lived here alone and that you owned the Chanton Hillview. He reckoned you’d be working today. I headed over to find that it was closed, but I knocked away on the door anyway, and a lovely black man came to talk to me. He told me you weren’t working today, so I resolved to come back here this evening. I’ve been on quite the adventure!’

Not compared to the one I’ve been on.
Juliet had almost brushed aside that so far today she’d been held at knife-point, had had her mind taken control of, had dodged shotgun fire, had been thrown metres by an exploding portal, and then had witnessed a murder. For now, it was easier to ignore it all, especially with this new discovery. 

‘Why wouldn’t my mum or dad let you see me?’

‘Your mother and I had a disagreement. It was her decision that I couldn’t see you anymore.’

‘What did you disagree over? And why would you listen to her? You could have disobeyed her and let me know that you were alive.’ Juliet’s voice rose steadily.

‘I didn’t know that she told you I was dead. I thought that maybe you would seek me out when you were older.’ Softly she began to cry, sniffing, and shaking her head guiltily.

‘No, don’t cry, Gran. I didn’t mean to shout at you. I’ll get you a tissue, one moment.’ Juliet found her handbag and passed her gran an open pack of Kleenex.

‘Thank you. It’s not your fault that I’m upset, sweetheart. I do blame myself for not coming to see you.’ Lillian’s voice faltered occasionally through her sniffling, but it grew in strength as she went on. ‘It was my pride that stopped me.’

‘I still don’t know what you two argued over.’

‘I should give you some understanding first. Your mother was a single child and she was always a daddy’s girl. My relationship with her was never stable. When your grandfather died a few years before you were born, your mother and I struggled to get on. But then when she had you, we started to get along again. For a while.’

Juliet listened attentively. It was interesting. She’d always taken her mother’s reticence regarding Lillian to mean nothing, and would never have thought it was because of long-lasting relationship problems.

‘We had a few arguments when you were very little.’ Lillian shook her head. ‘Your mother thought I was interfering, trying to tell her how to bring you up, but these were never significant arguments. It was when your parents won the lottery that it became worse. I couldn’t stand the way they treated you, sweetheart. Everything became about money. They spoilt you, but that wasn’t the problem. What I didn’t agree with was that when all you needed was a hug, a kiss, or a bit of attention, they didn’t know how to give that to you. They would buy you needless gifts and ignore your emotional needs.’

Under the table, Juliet’s hands were shaking and her body joined in. It was the truth of what her gran was saying that shook her.
She’s never cared. Never.
Her body felt warm, almost sweaty, and she realised she was still in her silk dressing gown. ‘I’m going to change in to something else, one moment.’ She left the table before her gran could respond, and hurried upstairs to close herself away in her bedroom.

I don’t want to cry.
The thought of her parents’ money in her bank account annoyed her. She didn’t want the five thousand they’d forced upon her after the car incident.
I’ll give it to charity
. But … the house she lived in was given by her parents, and Chanton Hillview. They’d always thrown money at her.
I can’t give everything away
. She closed her eyes hard, not wanting to see the wealth around her. It was
nothing
compared to what she truly wanted. How could she talk to her parents now? How could she ever feel close to them after this? The thought of their lies made her blood run.

All this time, she’d known it; she wasn’t stupid, but she
had
worked hard at denial. Her mum and dad hadn’t left her the house and café as recognition that she was an adult; they’d just wanted to live in Marbella, to spend their wealth in the sun. When Juliet had graduated, they didn’t care. When she had almost died, they didn’t care. But in her anger was also pity. She felt sorry for them living a life of throwing money at problems to make them go away.

Then she wondered if her gran even spoke the truth. Her instincts told her Lillian was honest. It seemed that, unlike her mother, her gran knew how to feel love and show emotions.

How much time had passed since Juliet came upstairs? She’d left her gran waiting, had simply got up midway through Lillian’s explanation of the past. She shook her head at how rude she’d been, then slipped off the mocha silk dressing gown and tossed it onto her bed. Hunting for anything comfortable yet presentable, she settled on silver skinny jeans and black socks, and then threw on a plain black tee-shirt.