Lori is in bed. She is very woozy. The Doctor has given her a shot and she is moving in and out of consciousness. A close call, the Doctor has said, but in the end, no harm done. A fright. Rest is what she needs. Rest and sleep. She’ll be right as rain in the morning.
She comes to. Or does she? Lori doesn’t know whether she’s awake or asleep now. Only that he is there, sitting on the bed beside her, holding her hand.
“How did we do?” he says.
“How did we do?” she repeats, incredulously. “I nearly drowned, for heaven’s sake.”
He scowls, drops the hand, stands and moves away from her, looking in the mirror, smoothing back his already smooth, fair hair.
“Some people are never satisfied,” he says to his reflection.
“I should be satisfied because I nearly drowned?”
“More than one way to skin a cat, Lori” he says, turning and gliding back to the bed. He moves the same way he swam, all sinuous grace. “Perry has broken up with Tracey hasn’t he? That’s what you wanted wasn’t it?”
“Sure. But I didn’t mean...”
“Personally I thought it was a stroke of genius,” he says, sitting back down, taking her hand again. “It alienated the lovers and gained you the sympathy vote, all in one fell swoop. But don’t thank me, will you?”
Lori is contrite. “Thanks,” she says. “I just didn’t think...”
“Most people don’t,” he says. “Most people imagine they just have to ask for something and bingo, it’s all plain sailing. No effort on their part. Well it doesn’t work like that. It’s not all hearts and flowers, Lori. There’s usually a price to pay.”
Lori feels her skin prickle in apprehension.
“I don’t understand what you mean?” she says.
“I mean nothing is for nothing. I mean you should be careful what you wish for. Fame and fortune, size eight and Perry thrown in for good measure. That was the gist of it, right?”
Lori nods.
“OK. But you didn’t say HOW, did you Lori? And you didn’t think of the downside. Take Perry for example. I could give you Perry but then arrange for him to have an accident. Would you love him as much if he was confined to a wheelchair? If you had to spend your life feeding him with a spoon?”
Lori grasps his hand in panic. “Don’t hurt him,” she says. “Please.”
“Don’t worry,” he says. “That’s not part of the plan. I’m just explaining the system. Size eight. I could make you size eight by giving you terminal cancer.”
He laughs at the expression on Lori’s face.
“Relax, babe,” he says. “I’m not going to do that either. It wouldn’t be a surprise now. Where’s the fun in that?”
“You have a weird sense of humour,” says Lori.
“So sue me,” he says. “All I’m saying is that when you wish for something you need to be sure you’ve checked out both sides of the equation. And you need to be specific. Take your mom. She wanted security and she ended up with Ted Morrison.”
“You leave my mom out of this,” says Lori.
“Your wish is my command,” he says, with a sly smile.
Her mom comes in now. She is carrying an enormous bunch of flowers. He gets up and moves out of the way to allow her to sit down. Then he stands back, arms folded, in the shadow thrown by the curtain in the fading light and watches as Marge leans forward and strokes Lori’s head.
“How’re you feeling, honey?”
“Tired.”
“I’m not surprised. Those boys. They ought to be horsewhipped.”
Lori smiles weakly, looking over her mother’s shoulder at the silent figure by the window. Marge, oblivious, holds out the bouquet. Roses and carnations. Red and white.
“From Perry,” she says. “The Doc said you shouldn’t have any visitors. But he sends his love. So something good came out of it. You want I should put them in water?”
“Please.”
Marge moves to the window and pulls the curtains against the dusk. Lori stiffens, holding her breath. The figure in the shadows shifts, ever so slightly and her mom hesitates, shivers, then comes back to turn off the bedside light.
“You warm enough?” she asks. The evening is hot as Hades. “Suddenly felt cold to me.”
“I’m fine. Thanks Mom.”
Marge leans over to kiss her daughter ‘good-night’. “Sleep well, baby,” she says and tip-toes out quietly, closing the door behind her.
“She didn’t see you,” Lori says, as the sound of her mother’s footsteps dies away down the stairs.
“Of course not. Only you can see me, Lori. It’s our little secret. You and me. That’s what makes it so...delicious.”
He sits down and take her hand again, turning it over, stroking the palm with his thumb. She looks up at him through half-closed lids. She is so very sleepy. And he is so very handsome. Older than Perry, of course, more sophisticated, more man of the world. And hers. Her own personal....secret. She smiles. He smiles back. A smile of complicity.
“Don’t go away, will you?” she says, her eyes closing as the drug takes hold.
“Never,” he says. “Never” and then, under his breath. “For lo, I am with you always. Even unto the end of the world.”
Lori sighs. Content. “Anyway, I’m still alive,” she murmurs sleepily. “But somebody should teach that Wayne Maxwell a lesson.”
He looks down at her face. So innocent. So corruptible. And he smiles again. But the smile has a cruel edge to it, now that he knows she can’t see.
“Now that you come to mention it....” he says.
Barney was sitting on Mrs Moody’s step when Miguel Coyote rode up. He was trying to whittle a stick with a dangerously shaky hand and whistling tunelessly through his two remaining teeth. The sun, setting behind Backwater Ridge, threw his elongated shadow across the pavement and into the gutter. Miguel parked on top of it.
“I seed it,” said Barney, struggling to his feet. “Almost had my hand on it.”
Miguel, climbed off the Honda. “Come up to my room,” he said. “I’d rather we didn’t talk in the street.”
He led the way into a bright hallway that smelled of lavender floor polish and something a good deal more appetising.
“You eating in tonight?” Mrs Moody stuck her head round the kitchen door. “Turkey fritters and sweet potato pie.”
“Sounds great,” said Miguel. “Mind if I bring a friend?”
“Not if he’s sober.”
“As a judge Mrs M,” Barney assured her and Mrs Moody said, in that case welcome.
“On the table in twenty minutes,” she added to their retreating backs, while wondering what on earth a kid like Miguel could see in an old reprobate like Barney McGee?
“Shoot,” said Miguel, as soon as they were settled.
“I done like you said,” said Barney. “Offered my services. Marge was only too glad. Not surprised, state of that back yard. Did about an hour. Then HE came downstairs. Heard them rowing in the kitchen. Said he didn’t want no winos stinking up the place. She settled him down finally. Made him some chow. And I says to myself, Barney, it’s now or never. So I knocked on the door and made out like, as how I needed to take a leak.”
“Good thinking.”
“Yeah. Nearly didn’t work though. Ted said I should go piss in the street like I usually did and Marge said not to be vulgar and told me, go ahead, up the stairs, second on the left.”
“And that’s when you saw it?” Miguel prompted. He had a feeling this story might go on for a while and he wanted to get to the end of it before suppertime.
“Well, first I had to find her room. Tried two before I got to it. Couldn’t hardly see the walls for pictures of that kid, whatsername, Chesney something.”
“Pace.”
“That’s it. Pace. Guess Lori’s a fan. So I snuck in and I had a look on her night-table and such. No sign. Was just about to give up the ghost when I saw it.” He chortled. “Right in front of my nose. If it’d been a dog it would’ve bit me. Hanging there on the knob at the bottom of the bed. Little round thingummy-jig with feathers dangling off it. Just like you said. And I tip-toed over and I almost had my hand on it.” Barney paused, shaking his head.
“And?”
“And then Ted Morrison yelled up the stairs was I having a bath or something? Nearly gave me heart failure. Shouted he was going to search me on the way out, make sure I wasn’t stealing the family jewels. I would have chanced it. Reckoned I could’ve stuffed it down my pants. Didn’t think he’d look there.” He grinned a gummy grin. “But suddenly all hell broke loose. That blonde kid screeching up in the car with Lori in the back, dripping wet and looking half dead. And next minute the room was full of bodies and I’d missed the moment. Sorry son.”
Miguel looked disappointed, sighed. “That’s OK.”
“I could try next Sunday?” Barney volunteered.
“No,” said Miguel, sharply. “Leave it alone. It’ll be too dangerous now. He’s out. Out of her head....”
“Who’s out of their head?” Barney looked confused.
“Never mind,” said Miguel. “Thanks, Barney. You did your best.” He patted the old man on the shoulder. “I appreciate it. I’ll just have to try something else.”