"THE DEVIL TO PAY”
by
M. A. Perry
“The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.”
William Shakespeare.
PROLOGUE.
BIRMINGHAM, ALABAMA. JULY, 17th.
She could hear them coming, closer, closer. They were right behind her. She could hear the barks and growls of the dogs and the shouts and curses of the men. Hurry, hurry or die.
The scorching July sun beat mercilessly down causing sweat to run into her eyes blinding her. Almost there. Only a twelve foot fence stood between her and the road. Between subjugation and freedom. Between life and death. A 200,000 volt electrified fence. But she could do this. She had to do this.
She’d noticed the gap in the fence on one of her rare excursions into the woods surrounding the house. Or rather a fox had shown it to her. The animal had looked at her suspiciously before dashing off into the trees. Or so she had thought. But to her amazement it had appeared again on the other side of the fence. How had it gotten there without being fried to a crisp?
The fox continued to stare at her in an odd way, no longer suspicious but almost encouraging, daring her even, to follow him.
She glanced over her shoulder at the two guards and saw that they were watching her. As nonchalantly as she could she walked towards the fence. The fox immediately took off across the field. She bent down as if to look at the flowers that grew around the perimeter of the fence. She picked one and smelled it but her eyes were on the wire meshing.
At first she couldn’t see how the fox had gotten out, but as her eyes travelled down the fence she saw the earth around it had been disturbed. Something had dug a hole; how they had done it without being electrocuted she didn't know. It was a small hole, not big enough for a human to get through, not even a slim young girl. But if it were made larger.
Just then her guards shouted, ‘times up.’
She rose reluctantly and they followed her back to the house.
She thought of little else but the hole and the fox, how he had looked tauntingly at her. She prayed for another opportunity to study the hole more closely.
That opportunity did not come for another month. He took up all her time. He wanted her to entertain his business associates. Serve them drinks. Smile at their vulgar jokes. Be nice to them. Be subservient. Be seen but not heard.
Eventually he told her that as she’d been so good and obedient she could have a treat, a walk in the grounds. She fought to hide her elation, but then she had fought to hide her feelings all her life, so it was not too difficult. Of course she’d had to reward him in bed that night.
The next day she had strolled as though aimlessly, while all the time making for the gap in the fence. She once more stooped to pick the flowers and once more sniffed at them.
Her guards had become bored and leaned against a tree smoking and talking filthily about the female servants. She did not waste the opportunity and with her back to them, started to dig, very carefully so as not to touch the fence.
Her hands of course would be filthy but she’d think of some excuse or other, she had become an expert liar in the last twelve years.
She dug until the hole was twice as big as when she started, it was then that one of her guards yelled over, ‘hey, what ya doing there?’
She stood up unhurriedly and began to wander as unconcernedly as she could towards them saying, ‘just picking some flowers for my room.’ She held up the flowers she had pulled out of the ground. The man who had yelled said disparagingly, ‘flowers? Fuck flowers. Look at your hands you stupid bitch.’
She looked down as though surprised. ‘Oh, I didn’t notice.’
The man walked threateningly towards her but stopped dead when she said innocently, ‘I thought Dashiel might like them, they smell nice, see.’ She thrust the flowers at him.
He recoiled as though she was pointing a knife at his heart. He looked at her with suspicion and dislike then said, ‘it’s time to go, get moving.’ And mumbling, ‘fucking flowers,’ followed her out of the woods and across the lawn. Silently she thanked God for making these men stupid.
It had been another two weeks before she had another chance to work on the hole,
and another month after that before she could put her plan into effect. Six weeks of trying to hide her excitement and anticipation and fear.
But now that chance was here and when her two guards had stopped to light their cigarettes and were again distracted…this time by the pretty new maid who was washing windows at the front of the house…she seized her chance.
Luck had been with her thus far but now she hesitated. Fear replaced the excitement, despair replaced the hope. She looked at the fence and thought about her life here, if that’s what you could call this existence. She thought about him and the things he did, the things he would do if she was caught now.
Stay and be punished. Go and maybe die. Or take that first step to freedom. It was now or never.
Sweat oozing from every pour, heart racing, she took a deep breath, dropped to the ground and crawled on her stomach through the hole she and her friend the fox had made. She was half way through when terror gripped her. Just one hair of her head had to touch the fence to fry her like a shrimp on a grill. The yelling and barking was closer now. They were here. It was all the incentive she needed. She pushed aside the fear and doubt gritted her teeth, grabbed handfuls of grass in her fists and pulled until she was on the other side of the fence.
But now they were close. She could hear dogs baying and men yelling.
Dogs and men all out for blood.
Breathing hard, heart pounding, she ran, like the wind.
MEMPHIS, TENNESSE. JULY 17th.
He looked around the room, at the barred windows, the locked and bolted door, the cameras. They never learned these people. They thought they were being so clever, so careful, so safe, when in fact they were being the exact opposite. These men of power and wealth who hid behind high walls and electrified fences and big men with even bigger guns, were so easy to read. So easy to find. So easy to kill. For a man such as his target this was almost too easy.
It had taken just ten minutes to get through the electrified fence, (give me a break). Another ten to traverse the grounds and avoid the big men with even bigger guns, (oh, please.) And fifteen to locate and corner his target, (oh, come on.)
He wished just once for nonconformity, for originality, and that just once one of these bastards would give him something to get his teeth into. Something to challenge him. Something to bring back the excitement. Oh well, maybe next time.
He looked out the window at the moonless black night, then again at the man on the bed. He was alone, poor thing. Still, he wouldn’t be alone much longer, in five seconds he would be in hell surrounded by others like him. His own evil kind.
He smiled to himself as he imagined them comparing notes and all with the same name on their lips. The name of the man who had penetrated their impenetrable fortress and taken their lives. And that name would be his.
He put the barrel of the gun against the man’s temple, pulled back the hammer and squeezed the trigger.
CHAPTER 1.
Alban, Alabama. 17th JULY.
Less than one hundred miles away Adela Faraday was standing on a pavement which positively shimmered in the July sun asking herself, "How did people do this? How did they stand this overpowering and oppressive heat?" How she longed for a little good old English rain right now.
Although she tried to appear cool and unruffled as she entered the café, the sweat pouring down her burning cheeks betrayed her. She had been staying in the small town of Alban for three days but had never been in this place before and felt a little awkward and shy. Not that she wasn’t always awkward and shy, but knowing she looked like a lobster, a lobster in boiling water at that, tripled her discomfort. Stumbling into a chair and almost toppling it didn’t help either. Still, at least her face couldn’t get any redder.
There were only a handful of people inside the café, but Adela still felt a wave of embarrassment as she threaded her way around the tables to the rear of the café thinking it would be cooler still there
She contemplated sitting with her back to everyone but decided that would appear rude, so slipping her backpack from her shoulders she hung it over the back of the chair keeping her head bent hoping the straw hat she wore would conceal her embarrassment. She was aware that good manners dictate she remove her hat, but knew her hair would be plastered to her head and had a vision of cascades of sweat pouring down her face like a waterfall if she took it off.
Her eyes not yet accustomed to the gloom she almost missed the seat as she sat. Or maybe she was going blind, her eyeballs having being broiled inside their sockets, despite her expensive sunglasses.
She looked up to see the handful of people watching her with mild curiosity, which turned to amusement mixed with sympathy.
It had been a bad idea to wear jeans because now they were stuck to her legs which felt as though they were on fire. She was grateful however for the white T-shirt she was wearing, having almost gone for navy blue which would definitely have shown up the perspiration stains. One good idea out of a montage of bad ones, way to go, Adela. She desperately wanted to slip her shoes from her aching, swollen feet but didn’t want to give the other customers something else to smile about.
What on God’s good green earth had possessed her, she must be mad, certifiable.
Okay, the holiday had been a good idea, she had needed to get away that much was clear. And yes, the destination had been an excellent choice, and the cabin, isolated as it was, had turned out to be a good decision too. No, it was none of these things she was complaining about, it was her timing that was all out of kilter. Who but an idiot would take their dream holiday to the southern states of America in their summer time with temperatures soaring in the 100’s…in the shade. Oh yes, very smart, Adela.
A waitress walked past carrying plates of burgers and chicken. Adela was hungry but the sight made her feel a little sick, it looked too much what her insides felt like. If she should die now and they cut her open to ascertain cause of death they would find her insides fried like an array of meats on a barbecue.
The five pairs of eyes were still looking at her making her feel a little like a freak at a sideshow. She began fumbling in her backpack, looking for nothing in particular.
Just then, a waitress with a pockmarked face and black hair piled on top of her head like a skyscraper came hurrying over as if aware that Adela was desperate for refreshment.
The waitress, whose tag showed her name to be Jill, smiled, (was there a touch of pity in that smile,) and asked, ‘what can I get for you, sugar?’
Despite her dry cracked lips Adela couldn’t help but smile at the sound of the soft southern accent she liked so much, she decided she also liked being called sugar. Her voice was a mere croak as she said, ‘a cup of…’ she cleared her parched throat… ‘iced tea, and a bottle of water please…’ more throat clearing… ‘better make that two bottles.’
The waitress gave an understanding smile, ‘coming up this instant, if not sooner.’ She turned and hurried off, her starched white apron making a scratchy sound against her black cotton skirt. Adela thought she winked at the young couple seated at one of the tables as she passed them because they sniggered, causing Adela to once more hide her face behind the brim of the hat.
True to her word Jill was back in next to no time. Maybe she thought she’d better hurry in case this particular customer should faint clean away, and a wilted English lady would be something else she would have to clean up before she got to go home.
She placed the tea on the table and was about to do the same with one of the bottles of water but Adela took it from her hand and couldn’t resist saying, ‘what kept you?’
The waitress laughed, ‘sorry, it’s the heat, it’s making us all lethargic today.’
Adela laughed with her then put her fingers to her dry lips and winced. She opened the bottle and took several huge gulps before sitting back and closing her eyes with a satisfied and relieved sigh.
She opened her eyes to see the waitress wearing that amused but concerned expression. ‘Better?’ Jill asked.
Adela nodded and took another sip before saying, ‘oh gosh, yes. Thank you.’
Jill laughed again, ‘not used to this heat, huh?’
Adela grinned this time without wincing, ‘is it that obvious?’
‘Some. But even without the accent I would have taken you for English, sugar.'
‘Oh?’
‘Yes, we get a diverse bunch in here, but we can usually spot where they hail from. Take the Aussies; they seem to cope better with the heat, better than the Asians even. And even our fellow countrymen from the north seem to cope okay. But the Brits now, they seem to suffer something terrible when the sun shines real fierce like.’
Adela found herself disappointed. She thought she'd come to this country pretty much prepared for anything, the heat, the climate, the cultural differences, remembering to look for traffic coming down the wrong side of the road.
The only thing she knew she would have difficulty with were the guns that so many people carried. She had never seen a real gun until she had arrived at the airport. But here she had seen even ordinary citizens on the streets carrying them, whole families going off to shoot and hunt. And of course the police carrying them so obviously and…to her at least…threateningly. No, she did not think she would ever get used to people with guns.
But most everything else she believed she had planned for, she thought she had been sensible, so felt rather put out that she had been spotted as an obvious tourist before even opening her mouth.
She said, ‘I thought I was prepared for just about anything. I took two bottles of water with me, but I walked a lot further than I intended when I set out this morning. I put on so much sunscreen I could hardly see my own skin, what with the hat as well,’ she touched her head, ‘I thought I would be okay.’
Jill seemed to want to make up for any offence she may have inadvertently caused because she said kindly, ‘well, Brits and New Yorkers.’
Adela laughed somewhat placated.
'Have you been in Alabama long, ma’am?’ Jill asked.
Adela liked being called ma’am almost as much as sugar. Although she knew a lot of American women disliked it she thought it pleasant and friendly.
She said, ‘this is only my third day so I’m not quite acclimatised yet. I’m on a kind of tour starting here in Alabama then Mississippi, Georgia and so on.'
‘That’s one hell of an agenda.’
‘It’s something I’ve always wanted to do since, well, since forever. Take in all the southern states of America.’
‘Just the southern states? Don’t you like Northerners?’
Adela chuckled, ‘I don’t really know any. But I’ve heard so much about the friendliness and hospitality of southerners, how helpful they are to foreigners and so on, so it seemed the obvious choice. Especially since I’m traveling alone.’
Jill’s expression showed her approval and appreciation, ‘we sure try, sugar.’
This made Adela’s smile wider still, ‘although I think my timing may be a tad off…weather wise.’
‘Well I hope it doesn’t spoil your enjoyment of the rest of your vacation.’
‘I’m sure that it won’t.’
A young man at one of the other tables who had obviously been eavesdropping said, ‘the thing is to stay hy…hyd…’
'Hydrated.’ Jill supplied.
The man nodded, ‘yes, that. And try to stay out of the sun when it’s at its fiercest. Wear a hat, and for someone like you plenty of sun stuff. Common sense really.’
Adela didn’t have to ask what he meant by “someone like you,” he meant fair skinned, pasty probably.
Jill snapped, ‘she knows that, Sammy Know It All, she ain’t stupid ya know. And she’s wearing a hat ain’t she, see here,’ she touched Adela’s straw hat with her pen, ‘are ya blind?’
Sammy Know It All shrugged as if Jill asked him that same question every day, which she probably did. Adela noted that he had a clear, open face; guileless is how she would describe it.
She decided it was time to remove the aforementioned hat, ‘as I said I got carried away, I wasn’t paying attention to the time or how hot it was getting, I was too busy chasing the beautiful scenery.’ Both Sammy Know It All and Jill smiled at this compliment to their hometown and its surroundings, ‘also, I’m an idiot,’ Adela added.
Jill laughed as did Sammy Know It All, although Adela suspected he did so just to be polite.
Just then the door opened and another customer entered the café. Jill turned to him, ‘hi there, J.K,’ then turned back to Adela, ‘well, you sit there as long as you like, honey. Enjoy your tea.’
Adela thanked her and watched as she walked, or rather sashayed towards the man, her hips swaying in that sassy feminine way inside the apron. Adela wished she had hips that swayed like that, but her figure was straight up and down, no curves to speak of, no anything to speak of really, small backside, narrow hips, that was it. Although she had been told many times that she was amply endowed in the breast area, something which embarrassed her profoundly.
She noticed that Jill had not hurried towards the man as she had her when she had sat down. English people got priority it seemed. Or maybe dying people.
The words "dying people" reminded her of several encounters she had had with a strange man in the woods. She had seen him through the window of her cabin on her first evening here just walking past, then every day since in these woods. She had spoken to him every time she had met him, four times in all. But not once had he so much as acknowledged her let alone returned her greetings. His name was Jonas Lando and he lived in a small ramshackle cabin not far from her own.
The lady who ran the small local shop, which sold everything one could possible ever need and more besides, had told her his name and warned her to stay away from him as he was as “Mad as a hatter.” This had been confirmed by another customer standing beside her who had called Mr. Lando, “Stone crazy,” and had issued the same warning, that being to avoid him like a skunk. Another customer had said in hushed awed tones that Jonas Lando had once been a cop and had also served time in prison; that he had he had killed someone.
Adela had been shocked and horrified that the man who lived so close to her and wandered freely around could be a murderer, but the shock was outweighed by her aversion too, and repulsion of, gossipmongers. She had no time for people who spread rumours and even less for those who listened to them. Maybe because she knew that people talked about her and knew they were not pleasant things, perhaps even the same things they said about Jonas Lando…except for the killing part of course.
Jonas Lando might have once been a policeman but she did not believe that he was a murderer. Besides if he was a killer he would still be in prison wouldn’t he? And certainly not walking around with a rifle. So she had smiled and nodded at the gossipmongers but said nothing, trying to hide her repugnance for people who talked about others behind their back. Besides that...although for the life of her she could never explain why...she was not afraid of Mr. Jonas Lando.
She sat back in her seat and sipped the cool, refreshing tea thinking, “common sense really.” Sammy Know It All probably thought she was a silly, unprepared foreigner who got what she deserved; probably Jill did too but was more tactful than Sammy.
The thing was that she was sensible; everyone said so, her family, her friends, her boss, well, ex boss now of course.
When she had won the money that had enabled her to quit her job and take this longed for, and much needed holiday he had said, “It couldn’t have happened to a nicer person, and I know you'll be sensible with the money.”
She knew he meant buy a house…property was always a sound investment…a new car, a few really nice expense clothes. He’d looked her up and down as he’d said this last part. But he had been less pleased when she had told him of her intended trip to America. He had said, “but, Adela, that’s such a long way, are you sure it’s quite sensible to go off alone like that, so far from home.” He said this as though she'd suddenly turned into a different person before his very eyes. Adela not being sensible? It just wasn’t normal.
Her elder brother David had said, “why not wait a while and we’ll go with you. We’ll get the kids settled in school again.’ His children Benjamin and Lucille went to boarding school. ‘Then we’ll accompany you.”
Adela just about hid the horror she felt at the thought of spending one week alone with David and his wife Sally, let alone seven.
Before she could reply, however, Sally, leaping into her harbinger of doom mode had chipped in, “Why don’t you take a holiday in Devon or Scotland? Or if you must visit foreign climes what about Spain or France, somewhere closer, then if anything happens we’re just a boat ride away. I mean to go so far your first time abroad, well, it’s just not sensible.”
And that was the catalyst, that’s when she had decided absolutely to go, because “It’s just not sensible.” For once her life she would do something out of character, something unsensible.
Sally continued, “And the southern states of America, I mean it’s dangerous there. There are snakes and alligators and swamps, not to mention guns.” She had nodded her head as though trying to nod it lose from her neck, “oh yes, Adela, all of them, every single person there is armed to the teeth, isn’t that so, David.”
She looked at her husband not for affirmation but confirmation. David nodded readily. Adela did not expect anything else, David always agreed with Sally, even when he knew she was wrong, the perfect husband…for Sally that is.
Adela had a different kind of man in mind for herself than one who agreed with everything she ever said. Not that she would ever find one, agreeable or not, it was too late now, she was too old, as Sally had pointed out, not in so many words of course, but the inference had been there.
Twenty eight, too old? Surely not. No, there must be another reason she had never found a man or even dated for, well, forever. But then men had not seemed to be interested in her when she'd been eighteen, or even sixteen, except of course Connor Murphy the school lothario and everyone knew what he had been after, even Adela who had been ignorant in the ways of boys. But she had to admit that nothing had changed since then, she was still ignorant, but now the boys had grown into men.
Adela had said, “Sally, the south is not just swamps and alligators etcetera, they have some beautiful cities, delightful scenery. And I’m going to try to go to a football game."
Instead of being placated sally was horrified, “Football? Adela, sweetie, I’ve heard about those things, they’re rife with drunks and pickpockets and all manner of dangers.”
Adela sighed, “I appreciate your concern, Sally, and of course I’ve taken into account what you’ve said and I promise to steer clear of snakes, alligators and so on. And I’ll make absolutely sure to only associate with people who don’t carry lethal weapons.”
Sally as usual did not pick up on her sarcasm but only shook her head not at all convinced. But nothing more was said, maybe because they had been somewhat mollified by the huge cheques Adela handed to them. Sally once more foretold of the great danger which awaited her before…to Adela’s immense relief…gave up. She had no idea then of course just how sagacious Sally’s words were to be.
Now she finished her tea and one bottle of water and put the other in her backpack. Leaving a twenty dollar tip for Jill (which would have made David and Sally fall against each other stone dead,) she put on her hat, mouthed a thank you to Jill as the waitress took orders at another table and walked towards the door. Amid “see ya’s” and “take care’s” from the other customers she exited the café.
***********
As Adela walked down the mile to her cabin in the woods, less than one hundred miles away a terrified young girl running for her life unknowingly put the first link in a chain of events that would determine Adela's future and change not only her own life, but the lives of every person whose life she touched...forever.
***********
Adela almost stumbled into the cool interior of the cabin then hobbled towards the nearest chair and sat down pulling off her shoes and socks, gritting her teeth as she did so. She looked at the shoes she had worn all day, the salesman in the sports shop had told her that they were absolutely the right shoes for walking even great distances. When Adela agreed to the purchase he had said, ‘very sensible, Miss.’
She filled a bowl with warm water and sitting on the bed soaked her aching feet.
She promised herself that she would wear her trainers tomorrow for her walk, that’s if she could walk.
She looked around the little cabin that had been her home for three days. It was small and very cozy and maybe too isolated for a woman alone but Adela had reasoned, “In for a penny in for a pound.” To the left of the front door was the little kitchen separated from the living room by a breakfast bar, or counter as the brochure had called it. To the right of the front door was the living area. A sofa faced the fireplace with one armchair to the right of the sofa, and a small coffee table in front of it.
The single bed she was sitting on was at the far end of the room and a few yards away was the bathroom. Everything was just right, small but comfortable, and most of all clean. She knew she had an almost obsessive need for cleanliness and tidiness. She realised it stemmed from her a desire to create some semblance of order from the chaos left by her mother. The latter would laugh at her attempts to keep things tidy and go out of her way to cause as much work as she could for her daughter. Adela also knew that sometimes she went overboard; still, she was as she was and it was too late to change now.
She just hoped that the next two cabins she would be staying in would be as nice as this one.
Adela thanked the Lord that she hadn’t told David and Sally about the cabin in the woods she would be staying in whilst in Alabama, nor the ones she had rented in Mississippi and North Carolina. The rest of the time she would be staying in small hotels.
Not that she couldn’t now afford a luxurious five star hotel but she preferred smaller places, less people, less chance of being looked at with curiosity, and worse still, sympathy, which the woman travelling alone often received. Plus, she wanted to be alone to walk abroad whenever she wanted without questions being asked, like, where was she going and what time would she be back? That would be too much like being at home.
She knew from first hand experience that other guests in the hotel felt it their duty to look out for her, to invite her to lunch or to go see the sights with them, “She can’t be alone can she, Harold? Sidney? Cecil? It’s not safe for a woman alone; no, you come with us, Miss. Faraday, or can I call you Adela?”
This had happened to her on every holiday Adela had taken, all three of them. The one on Barry Island immediately sprang to mind, she believed the entire staff and guests of that particular hotel had been in cahoots to make sure she was never alone. Some people had no concept of mind your own business, or that being alone did not necessarily mean you were lonely. Though of course sometimes it did. But then she was lonely at home too.
Adela had almost changed her mind about the trip to America when she had heard her mother’s voice in her head, “Don’t try to fool me or anyone else, we all know why you’re going there, to meet men. You can’t find one here so you’re hoping that those yanks will be less fussy and more desperate. Maybe you think you can buy one, and maybe you can, but even with all that cash you won’t find a husband, just a quickie with a hard up cowboy.” Then Adela heard the inevitable cackle of laughter.
Her younger brother Daniel had laughed when she’d informed him of her plans. "Damn yanks,” was all he’d said.’ Americans should not take that personally, it could easily have been damn Croats, damn Frogs or even damn Paddy’s; according to Daniel everyone was damned, except the English of course. Adela was sure he was a member of the British National party, although he did not have a skinhead haircut and wear bovver boots or sport a swastika tattoo; still, he could be admin.
So it was that despite Sally’s prophecies of certain doom, David’s head shaking and Daniel’s contempt for damn foreigners, Adela had boarded a plane for the first time in her life and began her dream trip to the southern states of America. Swamps, alligators, guns and all.
Little did she know that all too soon the dream would become a nightmare.
She went into the little kitchen to empty the bowl and prepare something to eat. Although she wasn’t particularly hungry even though she hadn’t eaten since 11.30 that morning and then just a cereal bar, an apple, and of course a bar of chocolate. She had only one vice and that was chocolate, but she comforted herself that she did at least have a vice.
She forced herself to prepare a sandwich which she washed down with a glass of milk. She would have to call in the little store in town very soon for supplies; she was fast running out of chocolate.
After she’d eaten she got ready for bed wearing only shorts and a camisole top. She would have preferred to go naked it being so hot, but was afraid to in case there was a fire. Being alone she should perhaps have been more frightened of someone breaking in, but someone breaking in and devouring her did not frighten her half as much as being rescued stark naked by a fire fighter, thrown over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift and paraded outside for all the world to see.
She closed her eyes and unbidden, thoughts of the uncivil man in the woods Jonas Lando came to her, strangely enough her thoughts were not of his having been to prison but of how he had so obviously tried to pretend she wasn't there, instead of annoying her this had simply amused her. She thought of the waitress, Jill and Sammy Know It All and how nice and friendly they had been. Southern hospitality indeed. She fell asleep a smile on her face.
As Adela slept, less than one hundred miles away two men stood outside the gates of a huge mansion neither wanting to enter and face what, or rather who was in there yet knowing they had no choice. As they stepped through the gates these two frightened but vicious men had added another link in the chain that would bind Adela's life to that of a young girl, and to of all people, Jonas Lando.
CHAPTER 2.
In the morning Adela awoke to another scorching hot day, and it was still only 8.30. God knows what it would be like by mid afternoon. Still, she had learned her lesson she would be back before it got too hot.
In the bathroom she tried to avoid looking in the mirror not wanting to see the lobster face that she was sure would look back at her. She didn’t resist for long. She was pleasantly surprised by the face looking back at her. No redness, no peeling skin just a nice brown covering her face, neck and chest. The sunscreen must have worked better than she thought.
She smiled, grateful that she had not seemed to suffer any ill effects from yesterday’s stupidity. Even her feet looked and felt quite normal; maybe sensible shoes were the way to go after all. But today she would not get caught out; she would take three bottles of water and make sure she applied plenty of sunscreen, wear her hat and of course stay out of the sun as much as she could.
She studied her face in more detail; she looked well, better than she had in a long time. She had been far too pale and wan. But then she had not had much time for lazing about in the sun or going for sunbeds, not that she would use a sun bed, she had seen the effects of those more than once. Sally loved her sunbeds.
Adela concentrated on her nose, which in her view was too long, and her forehead too high, that’s why she always wore a fringe over it. But the fringe did not cover the mark on her temple which overtime had turned white, left by an alarm clock her mother had thrown at her when she was twelve, her mother had been very drunk at the time but nevertheless her aim had been excellent.
She would have been the first to admit that she was not a pretty woman by any means. But her teeth were even and white and looked even whiter with the tan. Her teeth and her thick, wavy, chestnut hair that fell to her backside were really her only claims to prettiness.
But Adela was unaware that when people looked at her they saw a pair of big green eyes with gold specks around the iris. And if they looked closer they saw a softness and warmth there. And if they looked deeper still they would detect a loneliness and a yearning in their green depths.
She brushed her hair and tied it into a plait. Ever since she was a child she had wanted long hair but her mother had never allowed it, something to do with nits or some such thing. So she had kept it short until she was sixteen when she decided she would grow it, and no amount of criticism or mockery or abuse from her mother would make her cut it.
Later when her mother had been in the full throws of her illness and was mostly bed -ridden she would pull Adela’s hair and say, “Get that out of my face, get it away, it’s unhygienic in a sick room.” So Adela would pin it up on top of her head in a bun, but then her mother would grab hold of it and say, “Do you think you’re going to get a man with that thing, you look like a schoolmarm.” That was one of the kinder things her mother had said and not just about her hair.
She had once even tried to cut off the plait with a pair of scissors but Adela had fought her and prized them out of her fingers, her mother was very strong but fortunately also very drunk so Adela had won that one. That was the first time she had fought back, she had been eighteen years old. But she had to remember that her mother had been very ill, mentally as well as physically, even before the alcohol took such a hold of her. Adela did not let her mind dwell on the fact that her mother had always said and done cruel things long before the illness and alcohol.
She had fitted her mother’s care around her part time job at the little post office, she had been lucky because Mr. Lowther the post master had known of the situation with her mother, but then who hadn’t, you could keep very little secret in a small village. Mr. Lowther had been sympathetic and understanding when she had had to take time off for hospital appointments or when she had to dash home from work when an emergency occurred, which had happened more and more
frequently towards the end, or “The blessed relief,” as David and Sally had called it.
And now her mother was dead and she had been free for six months. And then of course she had had the windfall. Sally had said, “it must be your lucky year, first your mother’s death then this money.” The money aside, Sally had a very strange concept of luck in Adela’s opinion.
She broke her gaze from the mirror and disconnected her mind from thoughts of her mother. She showered and dressed, this time in shorts, white T-shirt and trainers. She packed her backpack with bottles of water, cereal bars, an apple and an orange plus a pair of binoculars, camera, sunscreen and a towel. On her first day she had encountered a stream and had bathed her feet, unfortunately she had found no such joys yesterday.
When she was ready she placed her hat with the multicoloured flowers around the brim on her head and tied the yellow ribbons underneath her chin. She had bought this hat because it looked jaunty and colourful, she hoped it might make her seem so too. Putting on her sunglasses she left the house making sure to lock the door behind her.
As she walked through the woods she admired the scenery, the plants and vegetation, the tress and wildlife, they were like nothing she had ever seen before. The air smelt wonderful, fragrant and fresh, but every so often when the wind changed she caught a whiff of the swamp reminding her that she must not let her fascination with her surroundings make her unmindful of the dangers which lurked all around her, the ugliness amongst the beauty. She had read the tourist guide from beginning to end and back again. It was only sensible after all.
She had walked maybe an hour and a half and in that time she had seen a red fox which stared at her quite blatantly. She told him it was rude to stare and, after giving what Adela was sure was a smirk, he headed back into the undergrowth. No doubt going to tell his friends about the woman with the odd accent he’d seen on his travels. She also saw a possum who didn’t stare but ignored her completely.
Suddenly her attention was drawn to a deer amongst the trees; it was eating the shrubbery unaware of her presence. She gasped then smiled with pleasure; the deer looked around then focused its eyes on her.
She whispered, ‘it's all right little deer, don’t be afraid, I won’t hurt you. My, but you’re beautiful.’ The deer stared at her for a moment, then turned its head to the right as if it could hear something Adela could not before it took off running through the trees. Adela followed hoping that maybe the deer would lead her to the rest of its family.
Suddenly a loud noise akin to a small explosion almost caused her to jump out of her skin and her heart to pound against her ribs. She turned quickly around, her eyes darting from left to right and back again. The ringing in her ears persisted but her heart rate began to slow as she realised she had heard that sound before, although never so close or so loud. She knew it was a hunter somewhere close by. She realised the deer had not been the hunter’s target because she had seen it run into the thick undergrowth and the noise had come from the other direction. She stayed perfectly still hoping the hunter would not take her for prey and shoot her dead.
As she stood nervously waiting for the sound of another shot, praying it would not be the last sound she would ever hear, the trees in front of her began to move. She held her breath as a figure emerged from the undergrowth.
The first thing she noticed was the rifle he carried before her eyes travelled up to a face which was hard and set, but she caught a glimpse of surprise in his deep, dark brown eyes as he caught sight of her. He was tall maybe six one or two and he wore a hat which had once been cream coloured but was now a dirty greyish colour. Below the hat she could see straggles of brown hair which reached to just below the collar of the black short sleeved shirt he wore.
She let out her breath in relief as she recognised the man.
She took off her sunglasses; she disliked people who kept theirs on when talking to someone unless the sun was directly in their eyes, otherwise it was just rude. The relief showed in her voice as she said, ‘good morning, Mr. Lando.’
He had drawn to an abrupt halt at his first sight of her, but now he looked at her as though he would like to raise his rifle and shoot her between the eyes. Her initial relief turned to nervousness, she swallowed hard and said, ‘was that you shooting?’ She gave a small laugh, ‘the shot startled me for a moment.’
He didn’t answer only stared at her and there was no mistaking the antipathy in his expression. It was then she noticed his left hand was holding something over his left shoulder. He moved his hand forward and she closed her eyes for a moment at the sight of the dead rabbit dangling from his fingers. She swallowed again and said, ‘you…you’ve been hunting.’
He advanced straight towards her and for a moment Adela thought he meant to knock her down, but at the last moment he stepped to the left of her and carried on walking mumbling, ‘and they call me crazy,’ as he passed her.
The meaning of what he’d said did not immediately register because she was so amazed that he’d actually spoken. But then his words sank in and she turned swiftly and asked his retreating figure, ‘I’m sorry, what was that?’
He ignored her so she hurried to catch up with him. ‘Mr. Lando, I asked you what you’d said.’ He stopped walking so abruptly that she almost ran into him. He turned to her and the scathing look he gave her made her want to take a step back, she didn't, but met his eye which seemed to surprise him. He took of his hat and flicked it against his thigh making a snapping sound, Adela was sure he would like to do that to her neck.
She noticed that his thick brown hair was sticking to his head and that his eyes were very bright without the shade of the hat he always wore; she was also surprised that he seemed much younger than she had imagined; perhaps middle thirties. His nose was slightly askew as though it had been broken and not set properly and there were small criss- cross scars around his mouth and lines at the corners of his eyes as though he squinted a lot, but his teeth were white in his tanned face. If he had tidied himself up a little and combed his unruly hair he could have been really quite handsome she thought. Standing this close to him she could smell sweat mingled with a fresh earthy scent.
Those dark brown eyes were now looking at her with contempt. His voice was low and raspy as though he didn’t speak much, which he probably didn’t, except maybe to himself, and from what Adela had heard that would not surprise her. He said, '‘you're lucky that startled is all you got.’ He waved the dead rabbit in her face, she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes in repulsion, ‘and lucky this ain't you.'
She raised her eyebrows in surprise, ‘what do you mean?’
He rolled his eyes as if he was talking to an idiot, which is how he probably saw her, and everyone else come to that since he reputedly avoided contact with the outside world, according to the lady in the shop and the postmaster that is. He said, ‘if you choose to take a detour through here you get what you deserve.’ He raised his rifle as if he was in two minds whether to shoot her for her stupidity.
She glanced around and realised what he meant. She had strayed from the path, maybe when she had been chasing the deer. Embarrassed having been caught doing something she had been told was dangerous she said, ‘oh, oh gosh, I didn’t realise,’ she gave a nervous laugh; ‘I was chasing a deer and got carried away in the moment.’ He said nothing only gaped at her. She tried humour, ‘oops.’
He stared at her as though she was a lunatic, which of course she was for wandering off the path like that. He gave her a look that clearly said, stupid woman, stupid foreigners.
She scanned the trees behind her and when she looked back to her amazement Jonas Lando had gone. She stood a moment shocked by his abrupt departure; she hadn’t even heard him move. She caught a glimpse of his back as he disappeared through the trees.
She did a 360 degree turn and realised that she could not see the path and that she was lost. She began to run in the direction he had gone and to her relief saw him about twenty yards ahead. She wouldn’t admit to this unresponsive, dour man that she was lost so called, ‘Mr. Lando, Mr. Lando if you’re going back to your cabin I’ll walk with you.’ But he’d vanished into the undergrowth. She called again. ‘Mr. Lando? Did you hear me?’
She knew he had of course. Trying to keep the pleading and mounting fear at being left out here lost and alone from her voice she said, ‘I said I’ll walk back with you.’ She put on a brief burst of speed and caught him up, she took his arm and gasped, ‘did you hear what I said, I said I would walk…’ Without turning round he shrugged her hand roughly from his arm. ‘Mr. Lando?’ She exclaimed in surprise. But he’d gone leaving her standing there alone. How rude, how very rude. Well, suit yourself, Mr. Touch Me Not.
She would rather die than admit to this disagreeable man that she was more than a little scared, and she certainly wouldn’t plead with him. She was sensible but she had her pride after all. As she approached the densely wooded area into which he’d gone she started to be really concerned. She was more lost than ever now, thanks to him.
She stood for a few minutes and for the first time noticed how silent it was, as though everything in the woods was waiting for something, maybe for her to make a move so that they could pounce on her. She chastised herself for being a fool.
She pulled her bag from her back and took out the water bottle; she took several small swigs then replaced the bottle in the bag. She decided she would follow the path Lando had taken. His cabin was only a quarter of a mile or so from her own, so if he was heading for his home then he was heading for hers too. That is of course if he was going home, he could be going to do some more hunting or he could be camping out tonight, hence the rabbit, something to cook on the open camp fire perhaps. Well, she could stick around here all day then follow the smell of burning wood later, or she could try to make her own way home, she was bound to come across the path eventually. She opted for the latter.
She had walked maybe fifty yards or so, getting more and more nervous and worried with each step and contemplating going back the way she had come, when she was brought up sharply at the sight of Jonas Lando leaning against a tree. His arms were folded across his muscular chest, the rabbit dangling from the fingers of one hand. With his arms folded like that she noticed his biceps protruding through the shirt he wore, they were huge and at this moment, quite frightening.
He was staring not at her, but straight ahead. She wondered if he was resting before continuing on…indeed it was very hot now…or if he had been waiting for her. But no, he had made his feelings perfectly plain so she would ignore him as though he was not there and act as though she knew exactly where she was. That pride thing again. She walked past him without catching his eye or even looking in his direction.
‘You can go that way if you like; you might even get home before sundown, and in one piece, if you avoid the swamp that is,’ he said.
Adela turned to look at him her face becoming pale beneath the tan. Before she could respond however he pushed away from the tree and continued to walk in a different direction to the one she had chosen. She was in two minds to continue the way she had intended, but his words still rang in her ears. Swamp, ugh. So she followed him. She was proud but also very sensible.
His pace was brisk and she had to run just to catch him up. She was sweating and wanted nothing more than to pause and take a swig from her bottle of water, but knew he would not stop and wait for her and did not want to take the chance of being left behind. She was mad with herself for being such an idiot as to get lost and then to bump into him of all people who thought she was foolish as it was, and now he’d think she was reckless as well. She should have brought a compass with her; but she would rectify that omission tomorrow and buy one from the shop in the town, they were bound to have one, they had everything else. Then never again would she be caught out by Mr. Surly.
He didn’t speak a single word so neither did Adela; she could be just as obstinate as him. Belligerent, that’s what he was, yes, that was a good adjective to describe Mr. Jonas Lando. She expected to be walking for hours so was surprised…pleasantly so…when his cabin came into view not twenty minutes later. She broke the silence, ‘but how…how did we get here so quickly? I walked for a lot longer to get to the place where we met.’
He didn’t reply to that but waved his hand towards the clearing; ‘you know the way now.’ Then made for a small building next to his cabin.
Suddenly she knew what had happened, she had been walking around in circles until she had left the path and found herself lost. Even though he was walking away from her she felt her face redden. Oh gosh, as if getting lost wasn’t embarrassing enough without walking round in circles for hours. Now he really would think she was a loony. He had entered the little building so this was her chance to get away from him and his scorn, but her curiosity got the better of her so she followed him into the dwelling.
The inside was dimly lit so she had to blink several times to bring the interior into focus. When her eyesight became accustomed to the gloom she stared amazed at what she saw. Animals of all shapes and sizes and species, foxes, rabbits, squirrels and possums filled the room, some standing or walking, some lying down on beds of straw. There were all kinds of birds too, some in cages, some in the rafters and some flying freely around. Lando held a large bowl in one hand as a baby deer fed quite trustingly from the other while smaller animals gathered around his feet. But what surprised her most was the softness of Lando's expression as he looked down at them.
Adela gasped in astonishment. Lando turned swiftly to face her. The softness that had completely transformed his usually sullen features swiftly disappeared and his expression became hard and his eyes furious. He threw the bowl onto a box and walked towards her and grabbing her arm he half pushed, half pulled her through the door, once outside he shoved her so that she staggered backwards. His eyes flashed fire as he said, ‘I told you which way to go, now go.’ He spat the words through clenched teeth.
Adela was embarrassed having been caught nosing around and not a little afraid by his anger. She knew she should have gone straight to her cabin but she had wanted to thank him, and yes, she had wanted to see something of where he lived. She stammered, ‘I…I just wanted to thank you for bringing me safely back. I didn’t mean to pry. I’m sorry, Mr. Lando.’
He stared at her his eyes still angry but now to that was added suspicion; she could see he was trying very hard to control himself. Swallowing hard she said, ‘I’ll go now and leave you to your…’ she didn’t finish the sentence but waved her hand towards the small building in which she’d seen the animals. He said nothing so she squared her shoulders, raised her head and ended rather haughtily, ‘thank you for your assistance. Good day, Mr. Lando.’
Still no reply so she turned and left him standing looking after her. As she took the path she knew led to her own cabin she heard a dog barking. She turned around to see Lando standing by his cabin door a dog jumping up to greet him. She couldn’t help but stop to watch this unexpected scene. Lando had squatted down and was letting the dog lick his face as he buried his face in its fur whilst rubbing its back and head. Adela thought, huh, so he keeps all his affection for his animals and so has none to spare for his fellow man…or woman.
She continued on towards her cabin. As she walked she thought of Jonas Lando and those animals in his outbuilding. They couldn’t be pets surely, they were wild animals. But they had seemed to trust him; the deer had in fact been eating something from his open hand.
She wished she knew what he was doing with that menagerie, but he was not the kind of man one could ask questions of. She wondered why he had acted as he had to her intrusion, he had been angrier than the situation warranted surely; oh he was a strange man. Typical, she thought, to have such an unfriendly, taciturn man for her closest neighbour. She hoped her cabin never caught fire or that a gang of cut-throats did not invade, she knew she could not rely on Mr. Belligerent to come to her aid.
And yet he had waited for her today, he had made sure she had not wandered into the swamp; he had not had to do that. But then maybe there was no swamp, perhaps he had just said that to frighten her, to make her look even more foolish than she already did, not that that would have been too hard. No, she would not think that of him, he had done her a favour and she would be grateful to him.
She reached her cabin and stepped inside, the interior was a welcome coolness. She slipped off her trainers, slid off her backpack then went to the kitchen to prepare something for her dinner. She made a sandwich and ate it sitting on the sofa facing the open fire, which was unlit of course. But she could imagine this place occupied in the winter time by a newly married couple…or even an old married couple…sitting in front of a roaring fire toasting bread or marshmallows and sipping glasses of warm chocolate or punch.