New leaf: “You’d always wanted to fall in with this crowd. Now that you had, you weren’t sure about them anymore”. This was the fourth choice of the topics set by Reedsy. I wrote the following story, entering the competition. I didn’t win, but really enjoyed the writing!

 

Tempest

Thunder flashes, rain absolutely buckets down. She stares out of the window, “The kind of weather just right for a police drama. Bring in the murder scene, or whatever else they have lined up.” She sighs, letting the heavy brocade curtain drop. “Come on, Alex, where are you? You said you would be here in time…for a change,” she adds with a bitter sneer. She gasps, only now spotting the quiet butler standing near the cabinet, topping up the drinks, arranging the glasses. “He creeps me out too,” she mutter on, feeling her breathing speeding up whilst getting more and more shallow. What has happened to Alex? Her eyes scour the driveway, just wishing the car to come along, flinching every time lightening flashes. She tries to ignore Thoms, and after a while, when the room has gone quiet, she glances over her shoulder. She swallows, feeling her heart miss a beat or two, then start up twice as fast, as if to make up for lost beats. Thoms the butler is still there, straightening things out, looking at her, seemingly observing her.

“Is Sir Alex delayed, M’lady?” Thoms asks calmly, his cool sea green eyes steady as always, unnerving her. She shrugs, and assures him that she is expecting Sir Alex any minute now. Which is true, as any other alternative would be too ghastly to consider. Thoms lowers his head sideways respectfully, apart from she doesn’t get any respectful vibes from him. Alex laughs at her complaints about Thoms. Alex usually laughs at her complaints, she thinks, pouting like a child.

“It’s the way he looks at me, I’m convinced he’s laughing at me, looking down at me,” she had whined when Alex had rolled his eyes at her paranoia. Again. “I don’t know why you chose him anyway; I liked that Italian guy, he could have helped the chef as well, you know, give him some pointers,” she had said, pulling her mouth down at the corners, as far down as possible. “The chef is very willing, but useless when it comes to producing edible meals. An Italian butler could have meant decent lasagna or pizza at least a few times a week.” Alex hadn’t rolled his eyes at this, but frowned at her.

“You wanted the whole shebang,” he had said, his voice curt and his words clipped, not a good sign. “You insisted on a butler and that’s what we have. If I have a butler I want one that seems trustworthy, competent and quiet. That’s what we’ve got. Maybe if you hadn’t insisted on him addressing you with M’lady all day long he wouldn’t be looking down on you as much. On the other hand, you do give him plenty of opportunities for contempt,” he had just filled his glass, and considered the conversation over. She knew when she was beaten, so didn’t say anything, didn’t even sniff delicately. Guilt trip tactics didn’t work with Alex.

After going to the huge bathroom, just to look in the mirror, pat her hair down a little here and there, check her make up, she wanders down to the large sitting room again. When she spots Thoms in the distance, further down the luxurious hallway, she makes her steps more purposeful. Nothing has changed outside though. The rain is still horrific, the thunder still rumbles and growls in the distance, the odd blue flash of lightening lights up the extensive grounds. She hugs her slight frame, notices that she has started to rock to and fro, and stops herself. Just in time too, as Thoms walks past the door, his cold eyes sweeping round the room, narrowing a fraction when he spots her near the bay window again…

“I just hate autumn,” she whispers, “absolutely detest it. Somehow I wished I had never gotten myself involved. Why did I let Alex and his friends talk me into it?” She blushes a little, knowing that she had been a very willing victim of their schemes. Her fingers fiddle with the curtain, enjoying the lush material, it’s coolness soothing her. Yes, some weeks it seems worth it. Other days, like these sort of days, she regrets it thoroughly. “It’s the weather, the wind, the falling leaves…and now that awful butler as well, it gives me the creeps. Come on Alex, it’s so late!” She can feel the fear seeping in, its cold tentacles slithering all over her, whispering words of discouragement and abandonment. “What if something has happened,” she breathes, “what if a tree fell down or something? Cars get struck by lightening, don’t they?”

In the end she can’t cope any longer, and hurriedly leaves the room, and almost rushes up the huge staircase, her feet silent on the thick, rich carpet. She slips into her large bedroom, locking the door quickly behind her. Almost in a panic she checks her dressing room and en suite bathroom. When she gets back to the bedroom she stops herself from looking under the bed. “Not even Thoms would lower himself to hide under my bed,” she says, then laughs, a very nervous sounding giggle. She walks over to the little tray with her drinks bottle made of real crystal, and fills a glass. Just before she takes a sip she stares at the dark red liquid. “What if it’s spiked?” she wonders, glaring at the bottle. She hesitates, then spotting the alarm clock on her bedside table she gulps down her drink in one quick draught. She struggles to return the glass to the tray, her hands shaking uncontrollably. Even Alex is never this late! She walks up and down her bedroom, her hands cold and shaking. “What will I do if he doesn’t come soon? Where can he be? If he has just left me…” She drops onto the bed with a rather pathetic sob, and lies there, staring at the beautifully decorated ceiling.

“Could it be to do with my old mobile? I know what Alex explained, but that was ages ago. Anyway, it was just a game I played on there, and if he hadn’t been away from the house so much I wouldn’t have been bored enough to go rummaging through those old bags in the storeroom.” She smiles a little, thinking of her old phone. “It must have been my first phone ever, I can’t believe it had those pictures still on there…” She smiles dreamily, tears nowhere to be seen now. “Alex got me the phone, I can still see him, all excitement, helping me to set it up and all! It’s been fun, really,” she grins, then an extra loud thunder clap makes her sit up, and hit reality. She peers out of her window, overlooking the extensive grounds at the back, but drops the curtain as if it’s on fire. “I saw something move! I’m sure I did! Oh no, it is like those police dramas… Mind you, they get hysterical people for most roles, and I won’t be one of them, not if I can help it,” she adds, not feeling too sure about her suitability for a firm, calm, decisive actress. “It must have been the storm, probably some large branch or something. I’m sick of the whole thing though, I just want out!”

She looks around her large room, beautifully decorated, and pulls a face. It is done exactly the way she wanted; Alex and his friends always made sure of that. Somehow it doesn’t feel enough anymore. Maybe it’s the sizzling air, the bright flashes and torrential rain, but she just feels…empty. Empty and bored and in a unexpected flash of honesty she whispers, “Actually, I wished I had never gone along! It was a crazy thing to do, it wasn’t right, it never will be. Alex just made me feel…” She stops, yes, how did he make her feel? He made her feel welcome, he gave her a sense of belonging, so she stuck with them. She thinks of her suitcase, ready packed in her wardrobe. He told her not to ever check on it, not to go near the wardrobe at all. The urge to feel secure is too strong though, and after double checking that her door is still locked, she lightly runs to the wardrobe, unlocks the double doors, and peeks in. Yes, her case is there, safe and sound. She locks the door meticulously, even giving the key a wipe clean. Feeling her breath coming more calmly now she tops up her glass, downs it only a fraction slower than the first one, and decides that she’d better go down again. Just in case Alex turns up. He doesn’t like her being upstairs for too long, always worried that she’ll go near the storeroom or do something foolish. Like use her old phone, she grimaces. “He’ll go nuts if he finds out. If he does, well, this storm will be nothing compared to the thunder and lightening in the house,” she giggles, feeling a tiny slither of apprehension making its way into her heart.

When she gets to the large bay windows, she spots the car lights straight away. She stands there, her hands clasping and unclasping, relief fighting with fury, and the outcome is by no means certain. She wants to rush up to the front door, but what man wants a clingy, weeping woman to be the first thing to behold when coming home? He must have had a terrible time, driving in this storm, she argues with herself, already formulating excuses for Alex. So, rather than standing in the bay window, she sits down on the sofa, carelessly flicking through one of their expensive magazines. Then Alex marches in, his face drawn, his eyes looking rather wild. Thoms the butler has followed him in, and she looks at Alex, wondering what has gone wrong. He crosses the room in two gigantic steps, and when he stands in front of her, she sees his shaking hands and sweaty face. He breathes in heavily, clearly struggling, and the thought flashes through her mind that he is fighting down sobs! She starts to reach out to him, feeling her own hands starting to tremble, when he hisses, “That phone! You…don’t you ever listen? Didn’t I tell you to never touch that room or anything in it? You’re the worst sister ever and…” He stops, for two large men appear in the door opening, making her look up. Her mouth drops, and she stares in total shock as they stand on either side of Alex, who just glares at her, breathing through his nose like an angry bull. The men take hold of Alex’s arms, looking grim and menacing, as well as oddly satisfied. She opens her mouth to cry out, but shuts it again when she feels cold metal clicking shut round one of her wrists!

She gasps, and looks round in horror, straight into Thoms’ face, his hard eyes gleaming with morbid pleasure, and his calm voice says, “You’re nicked, M’lady!”