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Chapter 9 - Loganberry Tea

  My skin prickled, my stomach a fluttering mess of jumbled emotions. Nerves, excitement, apprehension, they all tumbled within me. Hands twitching, fidgeting on the table. My feet tapped a manic rhythm on the tiled floor. The ticking of the wall clock loud in my ears.

  The creak of an opening door was followed by a sudden thud, a thud which was echoed by the heart within my chest.

  Lars was out of the house, I was alone!

  But for how long? I had to act!

  Springing to my feet, knocking my chair clattering to the ground as I ran across the kitchen to the window.

  The rain had stopped but the clouds still hung, low and dark. I remember though, at that moment something catching my eye, a bright flicker. Out on the otherwise leaden waters of the Oslofjord, a sudden golden glimmer of light, a reflection from a break in the cloud. A glimmer of hope. A small, desperate hope.

  My entire body trembled, quivering as I watched him walking down the driveway, bucket in hand, towards his parked car.

  I had to act now, I didn’t know when I’d get another chance.

  The hallway! The phone!

  I ran. I ran from the kitchen to where our phone was hung on the hallway wall. My footsteps echoing loudly in my ears. My vision, a tunnel focused on that black box on the far wall. The phone, the phone was all that mattered.

  I almost tripped over Bella, who jumped, startled out of my way with a yelp. I flew out of the kitchen door. The hallway stretched in front of me, a long narrow passage.

  The phone! A light at the end of the tunnel.

  Hands shaking from the adrenaline surging through me, I grabbed the receiver, snatched it off the hook, cold and heavy in my hand. A quivering finger started to tap out a number, the small square buttons clicking with each press. 28 64…

  No! That was Lela’s number. I couldn’t speak to Lela, not about this.

  Anders! Anders could help get me out of this mess.

  29 53 73 56….

  Silence. It wasn’t ringing. Why wasn’t it ringing?

  Frantically I tapped the cradle switch. Hammering it, rattling it with every strike.

  No ringtone!

  My breath froze, icy in my throat. Something was wrong.

  The cable, the telephone cable was missing.

  It had been removed.

  My stomach tightened, knotting instantly. The hope and excitement that had just moments ago filled me, melted away.

  Lars had taken it, he must have done!

  My hope of escape, gone.

  Knees quivering weakly before giving way. I fell backwards, back striking against the wall with a thump. My gaze fixed on the phone, staring at the empty socket on the wall, expecting the cable to just materialise. This couldn’t be, the numbness of denial spread over me.

  I needed to be honest with myself. I was terrified of Lars, petrified at the thought of being alone with him, in this empty house for two weeks. At first, I had thought that this game of his was going to be a simple blackmail, but it was obvious to me now, that wasn’t going to be the case. Things had gone far beyond that. The film night. Waiting for me before my shower. And now this, he had me trapped in my own house. A prisoner under my own roof.

  What game was he playing, I wasn’t sure of anything anymore? Was this all just about revenge? Was he trying to break me emotionally? Just how far would he go? I had no answers to those questions back then, answers that would in time reveal themselves, answers that would prove to be horrific beyond anything I could ever have imagined.

  It was all about those photos, they were the only hold over me that he had. It was the photos that gave him his power. Take away the power of those photos and I knew that I’d break his grip on me.

  My mind was racing. I could confess. I could speak to Lela, talk to her and try to explain what had happened between myself and Anders. My hands were shaking at the thought. It would devastate her, I knew that. It would seriously damage our friendship, possibly beyond repair but it would take the power away from Lars.

  But how? How could I reach out to her? No phone and no way out of the house. He would never let me.

  My mind lingered on those photos for a moment longer.

  Maybe there was another way. A fresh seed of hope, a warm bubble rose inside me.

  Those photos were his means of control, they were his weapon. There was a way that I could remove their influence without hurting Lela and destroying our friendship. Lars was out of the house. I needed to find where he’d hidden them. I needed to get my hands on those photos.

  The bubble of hope grew inside me. My mind, which earlier had been a chaotic jumble of thoughts and feelings, began to settle. I was able to think clearly again, it was obvious, all I needed to do was find those photos.

  A small smile spread across my face.

  He was still outside.

  I still had time but that time that was slipping away with every tick of the clock.

  “Bella, here girl”, my voice was strong and confident. A surge of energy tingled over me as a dark shape came loping out of the kitchen, big brown eyes looking up at me. Her tongue, warm and wet drew across my face as I bent down to her, ruffling the fur behind her ears. “Play guard”, my finger pointing at the front door as I gave her the command.

  With a tail wagging back and forth, patting a rhythm on the floor, she sat facing the door, those big eyes fixed and intent. A simple command for a simple game, bark when someone enters the room. Usually, a game that we’d play for fun, except today we weren’t playing, today she was my alarm, my warning signal should Lars return.

  With my guard dog in place, my mind snapped back to the task in hand. Where were those photos? His bedroom was the most obvious answer, the room that I was least likely to enter.

  The loud tick of the wall clock reverberated in my skull, it was now or never.

  I had to move quickly.

  Running up the stairs, taking them two at a time in my urgency to reach the top. Halfway up my foot slipped, my shin slamming into the hard wooden edge of the step. Pain flared, sharp and intense, a warm trickle of blood running down my shin. Gasping, I grabbed the banister, trying to shut out the pain. I pulled myself to my feet, I had to keep going.

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  Reaching the top, there wasn’t time to take in the details of the landing. My surroundings where a blur, there was only one thing that mattered, the second door. Lars’ door.

  The adrenaline was flooding through me again, my body shaking, my senses seemed heightened. The rapid rhythm of my heart, beating against my ribcage.

  Fumbling with Lars’ door handle, with trembling hands I turned the cold brass handle, swinging the door open.

  Where were they? Where would he have hidden them? The photos were the only thing on my mind as I stepped into his room.

  With curtains still drawn, the darkness of the room engulfed me. A musty smell, the scent of stale sweat and cheap deodorant assaulted my senses and made my stomach churn.

  Eyes twitched impatiently, left and right, straining, struggling to make out any details in the gloom.

  The blackness began to soften into a dull grey. As my eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room, objects began to emerge from the gloom. Lars’ bed, unkempt and unmade in front of me. A wardrobe, large and imposing, seemingly towering over me, threatening me in my trespass. A chest of drawers, its top scattered with magazines and the occasional action figure was beside the head of his bed.

  A cold shudder ran down my spine, the feeling of being watched, of unseen eyes lurking in the shadows raised prickles on the back of my neck.

  The drawers, they had to be there!

  Hurriedly I lunged towards that chest of drawers, feet snagging and tangling in discarded clothing, causing me to stumble and trip as I went.

  Grabbing the rough wooden handles, I pulled open the top drawer. Socks, boxershorts, underpants. I threw them aside in my frantic search. Nothing.

  In my over eagerness, I yanked the second drawer clean out of the unit. It slammed onto the floor with a deafening thud, a thud which seemed to reverberate throughout the house. My breath held for a moment, palms moistening, ears straining for anything, any sign that I might have given myself away. There was only silence, no sound, nothing.

  Rummaging through his t-shirts. Desperately casting them aside, digging deep but again my search found nothing.

  Flinging the drawer across the floor, my hand reached for the third and final handle. Pulling it open revealed Lars’ winter wear. Hats, gloves, thermals. How long had I been in here? How much longer did I have? Bella, my sentry on duty remained silent. I searched through that last drawer, my last hope. Spirits fading, my heart sinking with every moment. They weren’t there.

  My eyes, now accustomed to the darkness darted around the room. Where else? Where else would he have hidden them?

  A flutter of excitement surged in me, my body tingling with relief. I hadn’t noticed them before, they had been invisible in the low light of the room. But now I saw them. On Lars’s bed sat a small packet of Polaroid photos, their smooth surface gleaming in the thin column of sunlight which found its way in through a crack in the curtains.

  My body shook uncontrollably as my hands closed around them. I grabbed them, pulling them towards me, holding them against my chest, scarcely believing it to be true.

  I had found the photos, Lars had nothing on me now. No tool to manipulate me any further.

  A deep, booming sound from downstairs brought me back to the present. It didn’t register at first but then I recognised it, the sound of a dog barking.

  Lars was back in the house.

  I gripped those photos, held them tightly, they were my lifeline. This was it, this was my moment. A sense of elation flooded over me, my legs quivering, pulse racing. Taking a deep breath I stepped out of his room and onto the landing. I could hear him now, hear him coming up the stairs. His boots a heavy thud, thud, thud on the hard wooden steps.

  He saw me as soon as he rounded the stairs. His eyes narrowed, flicking between me and the open door to his bedroom.

  A slow, deep breath filled my lungs, my voice steady and confident as I spoke. “I have them, Lars. I have the photos.”.

  His eyes narrowed further, lips pursing tightly, back straightening. He stood there motionless, his eyes moving slowly between my face and the small packet held tightly in my hand.

  I had expected rage and anger but when he did speak, his voice sounded low, condescending almost. “You don’t understand do you, Heidi?” pausing, taking a deep breath, “This isn’t about those photos, this is about you. You caused all of this.”.

  “Me?!”, my voice, shrill in the air. An anger bubbling up in me. How could he insinuate that this was MY fault?

  “You caused this,”, he repeated those words, his tone cool and calm, “with your vanity, your self-centred arrogance. Tell me one thing, do you really feel no guilt for what you’ve done?”

  I was taken back, I’d expected this to be my moment of triumph and yet here Lars was trying to twist things. “Me, Lars? Was it me who hit you yesterday? Was it me who threatened blackmail? What am I supposed to have done?”.

  For a very brief moment I felt a renewed confidence, a fire ignited within me. I was winning.

  I was back in control.

  “Yes Heidi, it’s what you’ve done!”, a firmness had made its way into his tone. “Answer me, what sort of person sleeps with her best friend's boyfriend?”, it came across as a blunt statement rather than a question. “Not just a best friend but the girl she claims to love as a sister? Tell me, what sort of morally and emotionally devoid person does something like that? Not only to commit the act, but to keep the evidence like some kind of trophy?” I opened my mouth to speak but Lars cut me off, “You accuse me of wanting to hurt Lela, ask me how I can be so cruel, threatening to reveal those photos to her. Let me ask you, who is in those photos?”

  I wanted to argue but the words stuck in my throat.

  Something changed in Lars expression, I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was. A hint of vulnerability perhaps, “And then there’s me, your own brother. I relied on you, Heidi! For everything that I was subjected to, I managed to get through because I had you. I always had you to comfort me, take the pain away. Together we could escape this world. Together we could protect each other. But then you just cast me aside, abandoned me. For what? For popularity? You chose your appearance over your own twin brother. If it was only that, I think I could have coped. But it wasn’t only that. The things he did, the things they did, the things you did. From then on I’ve had to face those things alone. There was nobody to comfort me. Nobody to escape with to an imaginary world where we could pretend that everything was alright. There was no escape from any of it, the only choice I had was to endure”, his features hardened again, “That was what you did to me, Heidi. Everything that has happened is of your own making.”

  My eyes blinked as I tried to form some words, tried to argue. But those words just wouldn’t come. Thoughts spun through my head. Was Lars right? Was this all my own doing? I had betrayed Lela in a most awful way. I desperately tried to convince myself that I was remorseful for that but I couldn’t. I’d never allowed myself to believe that I’d ever done anything wrong. And then of course there was Lars, my brother. He was right, we had been close, so close. He had needed me. That look in his eyes, the look when the other children started jeering at him, that still haunts me to this day. How could a sister be so cruel? And for what, for the acceptance of a group of children?

  He was right, it was me. This was all my fault.

  I blinked, tears starting to well in my eyes. What sort of monster was I? When I spoke, it was with a quiet, quivering voice, “I’m… I’m so sorry Lars. So sorry for what I’ve done”.

  A smile crossed Lars’ face, a smile which at the time I took to be warm and forgiving.

  Lars glanced around, “come downstairs with me where it’s more comfortable, I’ll make us a cup of tea and we can have a chat and talk things over.”

  I nodded slowly and followed as Lars lead the way downstairs.

  Bella was still sat, where I’d left her in the hallway. Her big brown eyes followed Lars as he passed her, her ears set back, a low growl rumbling in her throat. With a small smile on my lips, I gave her a tickle under the chin reassuringly before following Lars into the Kitchen.

  My mind felt hollow, numb as I took a seat at the dining table. The surroundings seemed a blur to me as I grappled with the realisation of what I had done. I don’t remember Lars making the tea but his soft voice brought me out of my daze.

  “Here you go, we’ll have plenty of time to talk things over”

  My hands closed around the steaming, warm cup. Raising it to my lips, the sweet smell of loganberries filled my senses. The scent breathing some sort of life back into me. Sipping the tea, the deep, rich berry flavour filled my mouth. It was a warm and comforting flavour. There was something else too, something that I didn’t pay much attention to at the time, a slightly bitter aftertaste, an oily residue which clung to the inside of my mouth.

  While I gradually sipped the tea, I can vaguely remember Lars speaking but his words didn’t register with me. His voice became deep and distorted, an echo as if I was listening to him underwater.

  A warm feeling engulfed me, a tingling spreading up from my toes and fingertips, a numbness settling over me. My limbs became heavy, unresponsive.

  Looking up at Lars, his face seemed to sway in my vision, drifting in and out of focus. The room tilted, spinning, swirling. Mind wandering as my thoughts shattered. Dreamlike visions mingling with the reality around me. Everything melting into shadow

  What was happening to me? I tried to fix myself on anything, the patterns on the cup in front of me, my brother’s face. Anything to ground myself but everything shifted, writhing, constantly slipping away from me.

  I could feel no emotion, there was no fear in me. Just a hollow emptiness as, finally my heavy eyelids closed and I surrendered to the darkness.

  The last thing I heard was his voice, distant and blurred, “I’m sorry Sister Dearest, I didn’t want to have to do this but it seems that I just can’t trust you”

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