Читать книгу Fatal - Jacqui Rose, Jacqui Rose - Страница 13

Alice Rose skipped through the freshly cut meadow counting the white fence posts as she twirled around the trees, moving rhythmically in the warm Iowa breeze. This was her very favourite time of year, when all around her was an explosion of colours and scents.

The problem was, though, the happiness she felt often distracted her from giving a prayer of thanks for everything she had, and she knew that was wrong. Sinful. Her mother had warned her and her friend, Isaiah Thomas, on a daily basis what would happen if they forgot to say their prayers. She would be damned to eternal hell, cursed into everlasting fire prepared for the Devil and his angels, and that was something she certainly didn’t want to happen.

Shivering at the thought, Alice decided she needed to try harder to remind herself that none of it would be possible without the good Lord’s grace, especially a day like today. Only this morning her father had called to say that Franny was coming to visit them and, even though she missed Isaiah, she couldn’t help but feel excited that Franny was making the trip.

The love she felt for Franny was the same love she’d felt towards her own mother; she was good and kind and compassionate. God-fearing values, as her mother would say. Then, delighted just at the idea of Franny’s trip to see her, a surge of pure joy ran through Alice. She jumped in the air, spinning around, feeling like the warm winds were sending her soaring towards the sun.

‘Alice! Alice! Is that any way to behave? I don’t think the Lord would approve of such behaviour, do you?’

Alice’s long corkscrew curls tumbled over her beautiful brown face, chaotically dotted with freckles. She grinned at Sister Margaret, a nun whom most of the other girls found to be stern and unyielding, as she made them recite and write verses from the Bible each day, sit in silent reflection of their sins for hours on end – everything Alice’s mother had done, and so Sister Margaret made her feel safe, reminding her of the world she’d grown up in.

Still skipping and spinning, coming across as much younger than her sixteen years, Alice laughed warmly, her words holding the purest sincerity. ‘Sister Margaret, I think the Lord would be delighted that I’m celebrating what he made. After all, weren’t you the one who taught us that this is the day that the Lord hath made, and therefore we should rejoice and be glad in it?’ She paused, tilting her head thoughtfully before adding, ‘Psalms 118, verse 24.’

‘Alice Rose, I hope you’re not being insolent?’

Panting and with her cheeks glowing, Alice walked across to the nun. She smiled, looking slightly puzzled, her tone a blanket of kindness. ‘No, of course not, Sister Margaret! I was only saying that today like all days is a blessing …’ Alice stopped, furrowing her eyebrows before adding, ‘Am I wrong?’

Sighing, Sister Margaret, slightly ashamed of her grouchiness in the face of such godliness, smiled back, taking Alice’s hands in hers.

Even though Alice was sixteen, she worried about the child; she wasn’t cut out for the world they lived in. She’d been sheltered, brought up in a loving but strict religious community, and as much as Sister Margaret wished it wasn’t the case, Alice’s background was a huge obstacle, coming with far too many challenges for a teenager required to live in modern society.

‘No, I’m the one who’s wrong, doubting your integrity, I should know better. And it’s true, today is a blessing, like children are a blessing; a gift from God, and you, Alice Rose, are certainly that.’

Alice grinned, blushing at the nun’s compliment. ‘Thank you, Sister Margaret … anyway, I’d better get on.’

Skipping off, Alice wrinkled her nose, wincing as she heard the nun ask, ‘Alice, what have you got in your hands?’

Swivelling around and dropping the mobile phone in the long grass, Alice decided that seeing as she had a good reason for not being entirely honest, the Lord would forgive her, and therefore she didn’t have to feel guilty about what she was about to say. ‘Nothing.’

Sister Margaret’s tone was severe. ‘Alice, you do know what the Bible says about lying and liars, don’t you?’

‘I do, Sister Margaret … A false witness will not go unpunished, and he who breathes out lies will perish. Proverbs 19, verse 9.’

‘It also says their throats are like open graves, with their tongues they deceive and the venom of poisonous vipers is under their tongue.’

Paling, Alice stared at the nun as she whispered, ‘Romans 3, verse 13.’

‘Exactly. So I’ll ask you again, what have you got in your hands?’

Swallowing hard and resolving that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea not to be completely truthful, Alice brought her hands from behind her back, shaking at the thought of the snakes.

‘There’s nothing in my hand.’

Sister Margaret held Alice’s gaze. ‘Tonight in chapel, you’d do well to say an extra Hail Mary.’ And with that the nun walked away.

Feeling deflated, Alice watched Sister Margaret disappear before daring to pick up the phone. She hadn’t wanted to lie and she hadn’t even seen it as a lie … well, not really, not like a real one anyway.

Normally, she didn’t mind that they were only allowed their phones for a short time in the evening when supervised by the Sisters, but what she had to do, she didn’t want anyone else to know about; she wanted it to be a surprise. So when she’d taken her father’s call in Sister Margaret’s office this morning, she’d also taken the opportunity to grab her phone out of the box they were kept in and slip it into her pocket.

Trying to push the feeling of guilt aside, Alice walked towards the far meadow where Mac, the convent’s old dapple grey pony, was grazing.

Tearing a large handful of grass, she walked towards him, talking warmly. ‘Here, boy, here you go … Come on, Mac, look what I’ve got for you.’

Lifting his head for a moment then turning away uninterested – quite satisfied with the grass already in his paddock – Mac sauntered off, leaving Alice to sit down by the large basswood tree.

She sighed deeply, worried about her father. He’d sounded strange – stressed – when they’d spoken this morning, and although she’d asked him if everything was all right and he’d told her he was fine, she knew something was wrong. Very wrong.

Perhaps he was working too hard, maybe business was bad … Not that she knew exactly what it was he did. Something to do with selling insurance was all he’d said when she’d asked. But it was obvious he was not feeling his best, which was even more of a reason for her doing what she was about to.

She wanted to do something special for him, something nice for his birthday next week. After all, he deserved it. He was always thinking about her or about Franny, making sure that everyone else was all right, and often neglected himself. So, this year she decided that she was going to make a fuss of him, and hopefully that might cheer him up.

Pulling out a piece of paper from her pocket, Alice began to dial a number. It rang twice before being answered.

‘Hello?’

‘Hello.’

‘Who is this?’

‘My name’s Alice Rose. You don’t know me, but I’m the daughter of Cabhan Morton.’