“It doesn’t exist, this perfect second family, does it? It’s been one lie after another and all because you didn’t want to look after me anymore. Was I honestly that bad?”
I would have got my bag and left there and then; such was my anger. I could barely look at him just sitting there staring at the bloody carpet like a sodding victim. But if I left, the chance to find out where my mother was would be lost.
Eventually, when he realised I wasn’t going to slam out of the front door and really did expect answers, he raised his bloodshot eyes to mine. So he drinks to numb the pain… smokes for something to do with his nervousness… hides from something worse…
“I had to protect you, Eva.”
“From what? My own mother? Why couldn’t I even see her? People visit relatives in psychiatric units all the time.”
“From the truth. Sit down, love. Listen, you don’t understand – your mum was in a terrible state, and I couldn’t let you see her like that.”
“What terrible state?”
He kept his eyes on the swirls, mumbling the almost unsayable. “It was when she was left alone in that house, after we took you to Eldersgate. She had some books from her great-grandmother – the old lady who gave you nightmares, remember?”
I looked away. For fuck’s sake… as if I’d forget!
“I didn’t know she’d brought them back from Rabenwald, but one day I came home early and found her reading them in the attic. She was on the floor up there, rocking back and forwards while she read, and when she looked up and saw me, there was this horrible malicious grin on her face. It made her look like a totally different person. I barely recognised her. It took a good few minutes for her to compose her features and become Alex again, and it stayed with me, you know? That image, I’m telling you it left me shocked, really badly disturbed. Anyhow, I asked her what the books were, and she told me – said they were the diaries Baba Lenka kept during the World Wars.”
“Diaries? Really?” So they contained the rest of the story, and that information had sent my mother mad? I tried to keep the astonishment off my face. “What happened then?”
“Well, I had more pressing issues, I suppose – put it to the back of my mind. Anyhow, she managed to get a part-time job and for a while it looked like we were back on track. But she’d changed, Eva – become a different person. I can’t put it any other way. She started to go up to the attic at night to read those bloody books instead of coming to bed. I asked her why she didn’t bring them down so we could read them together, but she said no, they couldn’t be brought into the house itself, into our living space. She became very furtive, sneaking up there with a torch, devouring the things. One night I heard her laughing in this horrible way, maniacal and nasty, and talking in a language I don’t think she even understood. It got worse and worse.”
“How so?” And where are the books?
“About a week or so later, I came home to find her in the corner of the kitchen on the floor, talking to herself in gobbledygook. Her eyes were wide and excited, she was biting at her fingernails, and she kept swinging round to stare at invisible things. And talk to them! But her voice, Eva… I don’t know that I’ve got the words, but it were low and masculine – not hers anymore. And she were sniggering and whispering to people that just were not there.
“Oh, Eva, I’m sorry, love, but I was scared. She wasn’t my Alex anymore – more like some sort of demon. I called the doctor, and he gave her a sedative. But she continued to deteriorate. She wet the bed, she messed the bed, she smashed up the room… We had to have her sectioned in the end. Only I couldn’t tell you because you were just a child and I wanted you to get better and have as normal an upbringing as possible.”
“Did she ever recover? I mean, ever?”
He shook his head. A single tear dribbled down his cheek, dripping from the end of his chin. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “It was terrible to see. I’ve used every last penny to pay for private treatments and assessments, paid for her to stay in top clinics and see leading psychiatrists. But whenever they try to wean her off the drugs, it starts again. Eva, I’ve seen her every single day for the past eight years, and there isn’t any improvement at all.”
“And the books?”
His face darkened. “What do you want to know about them for? Burned the bloody things, didn’t I?”
“Oh.”
“I did have a quick glance before they hit the incinerator. It looked like they were full of curses and spells, mostly in Latin and Russian and another language, too – maybe Arabic or Egyptian, but I’m no expert, and, to be honest, the whole thing gave me a really bad feeling. Those books were evil. And not only had your mother been reading them, she’d been actively learning from them, too – underlining certain words and circling these diabolical pictures, things you wouldn’t want to see.”
“Give me an example.”
“What? Why? No, Eva.”
“Were there inverted pentagrams filled with symbols, and lists of demonic names attached to distorted half-human figures with lizard tails and animal heads?”
He nodded.
“Dad, you asked if I remembered the old woman who gave me bad dreams? I’ve not just had vivid nightmares ever since that trip to Bavaria, I’ve had a whole eight years of nightly visits – of living Baba Lenka’s life. But you wouldn’t know what I’ve been through because I’ve had to go through it alone, to believe I was insane. So what I’d like to know, and deserve to know, is if this book contains what I’ve seen in these nightmares, because that would make it more real. And don’t water it down, because what I’ve seen so far would make grown men wet themselves. So tell me – what else?”
He stared at me for several long seconds. “Castration! Men having their genitals hacked off. That was one of them.”
“Okay, yes – that matches. See? You should have known I was affected like this – I told you when I was eight, and I wasn’t making it up.” I tried to keep my voice level, realising he couldn’t possibly understand. He was a Mundane, as Lenka’s mother had explained.
The fire suddenly went out of me. At least he’d tried to help my mother.
“I’m sorry for shouting, Dad. Sorry. But if only we could have confided in each other, it would have been so much easier.”
“No, you’ve nowt to be sorry for. I’m the one who’s sorry – and there are no excuses except every waking moment has been about your mother’s treatments, therapies and private clinics. I even took her to the Vatican!”
It could have been my imagination, but I’m sure someone snickered when he mentioned the Vatican. A laugh, quickly smothered, had come from out of the ether.
“Why did she read those books, I wonder? I mean, she always seemed terrified of the supernatural.”
“I don’t know. Maybe she was curious and it got the better of her.”
“Or she was looking for a spell to attract luck and money?”
He nodded. “Possibly.”
“Dad, I understand, or at least I’m trying to. But why did you make up that stuff about a new family and moving on?”
“I couldn’t have you with me and continue going to see your mother every day, could I? I had to work full time, and on top of that you would have pestered to come with me. I didn’t want you asking about her. Full stop. It was easier to just say, look, I’ve moved on—”
“Throw away the key, good riddance? Then make yourself scarce?”
“Yeah.”
“And my grandparents were in on this?”
“No. Kind of. Well, Mum knew Alex was very ill and I’d all on dealing with that, so she agreed it’d be best to make something up to keep you at arm’s length. We thought that, in the end, it would be for the best. Like me, she just wanted you to have as normal an upbringing as possible. She said she’d keep you out of Earl’s way and encourage him to join the union and the darts team and get an allotment – anything just so we could get you through.”