Instead of going straight home, Betty drove towards the Rushbury shopping centre. As she was parking the car, she asked Kevin if he really wanted to keep Karen's uniform, or whether they should use the opportunity to return it.
"Of course we keep it!" replied a sly voice. "Don't be ridiculous, I need it for school! And as you so thoughtfully brought it along I might as well change in the car, and wear it while we go shopping! Please!"
The last word was a command.
"But Kevin, you heard Mr. Wright say we shouldn't encourage this."
"He also said it was unwise to thwart me. I was listening to the old fool. Anyway, what does he know? I want my uniform now, and then I'm going to wear it into all the shops with you. Please! I want people to see me!"
"But why? What difference can it make? You look perfectly all right as you are. Surely you don't need to change into school clothes during the summer holidays?"
"Will you let me wear my uniform when I go to the new school? If so, I'll wait till term starts. If not, I'll wear it now while I've got the chance!"
"Oh dear," Betty sighed. "I'm not happy about this, Kevin."
"I'm not your stupid Kevin," snapped the child.
"Well, you're certainly not behaving like my Karen, that's for sure. You're more like Karen in the worst of her sulkiest moods, not the wise Karen I've been talking to recently."
"I'm the real Karen, not your prissy church-loving goody-goody! Come on, where's my uniform? I suppose you've locked it in the boot!"
"Yes, and it's all wrapped up, ready to be taken back to the shop."
"Sneaky! Can I have the key?"
Either way, Betty had little choice but to retrieve it, and in her heart of hearts, she knew she didn't want to change it. It was a tangible symbol of Karen. To deny her the uniform was to deny Karen's need for clothes, to deny her existence.
Sitting in the back of the car, Kevin was already stripping off his tee-shirt and jeans. Reluctantly Betty passed him the uniform, and after a two-minute struggle Karen the schoolgirl emerged looking like a pupil from St. Trinian's. The tie was loose and crooked, and her hair grossly untidy.
"You're certainly not going anywhere looking like that!" Betty insisted. "If you must wear it, at least take a pride in yourself. Pull your tie straight and tidy up your hair. Come here, you Scruff!"
"Don't you call me that!" she barked. "It's a disgusting name to use. I'm Karen, can't you see, or are you blind like that daft sky-pilot?"
"Karen? Kevin? What's happening? You can't be Karen, and I've never known Kevin behave like this. Who are you?"
Karen assumed a look of excessive coyness, and stuck her thumb in her mouth. "I'm your little poppet. Cuddle me, please."
"This is hardly the time nor the place for a cuddle, dear, do be sensible. Have you got a comb?"
Karen shook her head, and so Betty did the best she could with her hands, smoothing down the child's hair and straightening the tie. She gazed at the slightly improved image, but knew something was still very wrong. She wasn't looking at Karen, of that she was sure, nor was it merely Kevin being awkward - it was a stranger. Yet at the same time, because the figure before her looked so very familiar, it was vaguely disturbing.
Betty tried to ignore her fears. "Come on, trouble-maker, we'll wander round the shops if that's what you want. But I'm not parting with any money, I hope that's clear? You've stopped me returning that outfit, so now we can't afford any more luxuries this month!"
They locked the car and went down the shopping precinct. But instead of walking demurely by her mother's side, Karen galloped ahead like an obnoxious little hooligan. Betty followed in silence, ashamed and confused about Karen's worsening behaviour. The child was now fifty yards in front of her, and about to do something very irresponsible.
Betty yelled at once. "Karen, how dare you! Come out of there!"
Karen had climbed onto a low wall surrounding an ornamental fountain, and was walking around it with both arms outstretched, dipping one foot into the shallow water. Before Betty could stop her, she'd jumped right in, and was kicking about, splashing other shoppers in the square. Betty ran forward and picked the child bodily out of the water, tempted to give her a severe shaking.
"Never beat a child in anger," Karen exclaimed. "It's against the law. Your duty as a parent is to admonish and reprimand, not to give vent to spite and never to seek revenge. I didn't like these shoes anyway, and these stupid socks are so babyish. I want some nice smooth stockings with sexy black suspenders like the ones I found yesterday, and some really high-heeled shoes!"
Betty decided that brutal tactics were called for.
"Right!" she snapped, strongly resenting the way she was being addressed. "Come with me!"
She grabbed Karen by the hand, and marched her straight into a shoe shop where she asked for a pair of high-heeled shoes.
"Something cheap and nasty," she insisted. "We need them for a short while to teach someone a lesson. Karen, take off those wet shoes at once."
"I'm sorry," said the assistant, "but I can't allow her to try on anything in here, not with feet in that condition."
"Never mind," Betty replied, diving into her purse. "Even if they're not the right size, I'll take them."
"What about my stockings?" Karen demanded.
"Later. Off with those wet socks and put these new shoes on. Hurry up, we haven't got all day!"
Karen put her bare feet into the stiff, unfriendly shoes. They felt tight and narrow, her weight forcing her feet hard down onto the toes. She stood up, and tried to totter along as Betty dragged her out of the shop.
"She's been insisting on high heels for weeks," Betty explained to a worried passer-by. "A brisk walk in these should make her think twice!"
With Karen protesting all the way, Betty hauled her across the pedestrian concourse to a drug store where she bought a cheap pair of stockings. Then she hustled the hobbling child back toward the car.
"Don't dawdle, or we'll have to pay an excess parking charge!"
"I can't run! Not in these shoes, they're horrid!"
"Too bad, my lass. You demanded high heels? Now you've got them, and you'll learn to get used to them, like any other girl. Come on, I've got a lot to do this evening."
Karen was marched back to the car, protesting wildly at her mother's insensitivity. During the drive home, Betty spoke her mind.
"I'd now had quite enough from you, Karen, and it's time you were taught a few truths about dressing yourself up. Since you're determined to be a girl, you can wear those shoes every day till term starts!"
Karen began to cry. "I can't, I don't want to ... I don't want to be like this any more ... I want my own clothes!"
"You had your chance! You had every opportunity to behave, but no, you had to go showing off in a crowded shopping centre. It was a disgraceful display and I'm frankly appalled. Thank goodness we were twenty miles from home. Any more nonsense and I'll leave you here to walk the rest of the way. You insisted we keep that useless school outfit, and you behaved like a spoilt brat till you got your own way. It's what you wanted, my girl, and it's what you've got. I don't want to hear another word of complaint till bedtime!"
Karen sulked on the back seat, sucking her thumb. When they reached home she crawled upstairs on her hands and knees and stayed in her room.
Alone downstairs, Betty was left with plenty of time to reassess her own behaviour. She knew she'd over-reacted. Karen had been resurrected primarily to satisfy the love they both needed to share; but was love the motive behind her actions that afternoon, or was it annoyance and revenge? Why had Karen suddenly lapsed into this truculent, tetchy little horror? Where was the wise, loving soul who'd previously come from beyond the grave?
A childhood rhyme seeped into Betty's thoughts. "When she was good, she was very, very good, but when she was bad, she was horrid."
It seemed so apt that Betty repeated it, over and over in her mind. Her daughter was now likely to behave in two different ways, poles apart. She was either better than the former Karen had ever been, or she would lapse into a vile mood, worse than anything when she'd been alive. Her moods, instead of blending tolerable naughtiness with well-meaning kindness, had become polarised into two opposite halves that alternated unnervingly from one extreme to the other.
Naturally, it was the good Karen whom Betty wanted to encourage. But she began to feel alarmed - how bad could the bad one be? Her behaviour was already ill-mannered and spiteful. Might she become progressively worse? Was the bad Karen a totally evil spirit, a carnal tool of the very devil himself? Complementary to those recent revelations about Heaven, was there also a very real and ghastly Hell?
Were the souls of those who died processed, divided and distilled, the good elements passing into Heaven, the evil consigned elsewhere? Was the personality upstairs Karen's evil residue? What entity now lived in that house? Had the innocent Kevin become an unwitting host to two quite separate spirits of Karen? And if so, in the ominous silence above, what was the body of Kevin doing at that very moment?
Betty crept upstairs to investigate. She heard a sound coming from her own bedroom, and flung the door wide open.
There was Karen, seated at her mother's dressing-table with make-up daubed across her face like a wayward adolescent tart, intent on attaching her new stockings to a black suspender-belt that she'd just pulled from a nearby drawer.
"Young man, just what do you think you're doing in my room?" Betty demanded loudly, intent on shocking some sense into her son.
"I've decided I'm going out tonight," Karen smirked.
"Dressed like a slut? Where to? Church? You want Dan Wright to see you looking like that?"
"Let him, if his eyes still work."
"Kevin!" barked Betty, placing her hands on his shoulders and shaking him violently. "Scruff, what's happening to you?"
Karen turned and, through malevolent eyes, gave her mother a steely stare of contempt.
"Look, Betty Marsh. You can't have it all your way. Neither can he, or Miss Goody-goody for that matter. I'm entitled to a life of my own, and I'm not answerable to anyone, not any more - I've got full control now!"
There came a harsh, metallic laugh that sent a piercing stab of cold fear throughout Betty's body. She didn't mean to, but her response was quite instinctive. She slapped Kevin hard across his face, filled with fury not because he'd defiled her room and rifled through her underwear, but because her Karen was being snatched away by the very antithesis of the good and saintly soul she'd formerly revealed.
Suddenly Kevin seemed to wake up. He stared in horror at his own reflection, and turned to his mother for an explanation.
"What happened?" he cried. "Was that her again?"
Betty reacted at once, and threw loving arms around her pathetic son.
"I don't know, Scruff. It wasn't our Karen, I'm sure of that. Come on, wash that stuff off your face. Let's get you back into your own clothes, then we'll go and get some tea ready."
Kevin's hand went to his cheek. "My face hurts," he said with a puzzled frown. "Did someone just hit me?"
"My poor lamb, I'm so sorry!" Betty drew him close to her bosom. "It was an evil side to your sister which seemed to take hold of you, my darling. But she's gone now."
"Oh no, I haven't!" came a mocking laugh. "I just ducked out when you walloped the poor idiot. Why not? He's only a boy, and boys are meant to take knocks. It's us delicate little daughters you have to treat so gently!"
"Oh, no!" Betty fought back. "No, I don't treat you gently, young lady. I'll treat your good sister with all my love and devotion, and I'll protect my little boy from harm. But you? I despise you! You're a wicked and evil creature and I don't want you in my house!"
Betty was so enraged she didn't notice the look of dismay on Kevin's face. Kevin knew only that he had done something unforgivable, accused of behaviour beyond his control. The cruel words uttered by his mother left him stunned and speechless. After she stormed out of the room he lay sobbing on her bed, feeling unloved, lonely and very frightened.
As he tried to come to terms with what had happened he caught sight of the large railway book Mr. Wright had lent him. He picked it up and in thumbing through the pages came across a sheet of paper, once used as a bookmark. It was a duplicated sheet, the front cover of Mr. Wright's church magazine, and on it was the minister's phone number.
Kevin rolled over to the phone by the bed and dialled.
"Hallo, Mr. Wright?" he began as the man answered. "This is Kevin Marsh, the one you lent the book to this afternoon. Please help my mother. There's something horrid happening and I'm scared. I don't know what to do."
"Kevin, old son, I'm sure there's nothing to be scared of. I met this sister of yours this afternoon and I'm sure you've got nothing to fear - she'll leave you in peace soon enough. It was a most interesting encounter today, Kevin, but you'll soon get back to a normal life again, don't you worry."
"But what if I don't want a normal life, Mr. Preacher? What if I like being like this? What if I choose to kill anyone who tries to get in my way, what then?"
"Come, Kevin, lad, I'm sure you don't really mean that."
"Don't I? Just you wait and see. I'm going to get my revenge on that James woman first, the one who ran me over! Then Mrs. Tyler needs to be taught a lesson, the ignorant old bat! And Tracy Atkinson and all the others at school who were rotten to me ..."
"Kevin, listen ..."
"I'm not Kevin! I'm the real Karen, can't you tell? Are you deaf as well as blind? I want the world to know I'm Karen! I'm sick of playing hide-and-seek, pretending I don't exist. So for your information, Mr. Preacher, I do exist, and from now on, I'm here to stay!"
Dan Wright knew beyond any doubt that Kevin was in serious trouble.
"That's most interesting, Karen. Is your mother there? Perhaps I'd better talk to her first."
"Sorry," Kevin apologised, "I missed that - what were you saying?"
"I asked if your mother was there."
"Sorry - did I black out, or something? It's very strange, and I wanted to tell you I'm getting frightened ..."
"Kevin, lad, give me your phone number quickly."
"What for? You want to come and interfere? Listen, you blind old fossil, I'm not taking any more interference from nosey crackpots like you! I've got other plans and they start today!"
It was a triumphant and scheming Karen who slammed down the phone and smiled at herself in the mirror. She crept to the top of the stairs and listened for a moment, in case Betty had overheard. But all was quiet, so Karen returned to her own room and locked the door.
Not long after this Betty also dialled through to Dan Wright, but there was no reply. Half an hour later, as she was still debating whether to forget Kevin's rudeness and remind him about his tea, she heard the front door bell. To her surprise, there stood was Dan Wright.
"Good heavens!" she exclaimed without thinking. "I tried to phone you earlier, but I didn't expect to see you again so soon. Is anything wrong? Did we leave something behind at your house?"
"Betty," he said simply, "we have a problem. I had a strange message from Kevin and I came as quickly as I could. It's lucky you left me your address. Betty, he's in trouble. Where is he?"
"Upstairs, I believe. I told him to go and change, but haven't heard a sound since. Maybe he's fallen asleep."
"I'm afraid there may be evil in this house, Betty. It's my fault, I should have warned you. I need to spend some time alone with Kevin, do you mind?"
Betty took Dan Wright up to Kevin's room, but it was empty. Finding Karen's room locked, they banged on the door.
"Kevin? Karen? Are you in there? Open this door, please."
But they heard only the sound of the wind blowing through the keyhole.
"She's either asleep, or ..."
Betty stopped in horror. Had the evil spirit persuaded Kevin to take his own life? She began to scream: "Kevin! Open this door!"
Dan Wright put a fatherly arm around her, shaking his head as he read her mind.
"That's not the way," he said gently. "Another death in the family couldn't possibly serve Karen's purpose. We'd better try the window."
Standing outside in the garden, they looked up to see Karen's window wide open, her curtains fluttering wildly against the brickwork. Betty quickly fetched a ladder from the shed, and Dan climbed up to peer through.
"No-one here," he called, "but it looks a mess. Is it always this untidy?"
"It shouldn't be. Has she left the key in the door?"
Dan Wright couldn't see, so he clambered inside. Betty followed, appalled by what she saw. Karen's pretty bedroom looked as if it had been rifled by vandals. The wardrobe was empty, every drawer was left hanging open, and garments were strewn carelessly across the floor.
Then Betty picked up what looked like a shiny blue belt, and gasped as she realised what it was. Karen had ripped six inches off the skirt of her taffeta birthday dress. The sight of it, so savagely mutilated, nearly broke Betty's heart. She slumped down on the edge of the bed and wept.
The Rev. Dan Wright laid a comforting hand on her head. "Come, Betty, this won't do, my dear. We've got an urgent task ahead of us. The child's got to be found. Will you let me call the police?"
It seemed the obvious course, yet Betty shied from the idea of Kevin's antics making headlines in the local paper. She needed help from someone, but not from the police, not yet. She shook her head.
"I'd like first to call my friend Isobel," she said. "She knows about us. She's the one whose car it was ..."
Dan comforted her as she broke down again. "Give me the number and I'll call her."
"Oh, God!" Betty wailed. "Why is this happening to me? My life's falling apart, just when I thought we were so happy. I'm sorry - her number's by the phone in the hall. It's Isobel James."
Dan went downstairs, and after making a call to Isobel he put the kettle on and made Betty a cup of tea.
"We were discussing just such a case only a few days ago," he explained, "very similar to this. It's by no means unique, in fact this sort of phenomenon has been going on throughout history. The Anglican Book of Common Prayer has a number of well-tried remedies, but of course, our first job is to find the subject of our concern."
"I'm so sorry to get you involved in this," Betty apologised.
"My dear, were it not for our joint concern about Kevin, I confess I'd be enjoying this immensely. Have faith, please - it's a most effective remedy!"
Isobel arrived ten minutes later.
"It's lucky my mother-in-law happened to be with us," she said. "Your call sounded urgent, so I dropped everything, borrowed her car and drove!"
"It's young Kevin," Dan explained. "He seems to have run away."
"Only it isn't Kevin," Betty added. "It's a most horrible version of Karen - quite different - it looks as if she's gone off wearing a very short blue dress. Look!" She held out the band of blue taffeta, like a miniature roller towel. "I found this ripped from the skirt of Karen's best frock. It must look awful, and Heaven knows what else she's wearing! And it's still my poor little Kevin out there somewhere. I daren't face the police, not with him dressed like that. We need to find him ourselves."
"How long since you last saw him?"
Isobel sounded calm and level-headed, well able to approach the problem without the burden of emotion that weighed on Betty's mind.
"No more than half an hour ago," said Dan. "Kevin or Karen was on the phone to me, saying something about taking revenge on various enemies!"
"Oh dear! Something tells me I may be top of the list," Isobel volunteered bravely.
"She did mention you, yes," Dan admitted. "And also a Mrs. Tyler."
"Mrs. Tyler? What's she done?"
Betty revealed how Mrs. Tyler had caught Kevin prying through drawers of underwear in her daughter's room.
Dan smiled. "I'd say an unsavoury aspect of Karen was at work even then! Hadn't we better phone Mrs. Tyler and warn her?"
But Betty resisted. "I'd prefer to drive over. She was so unfriendly on Saturday. If I called now, she'd probably slam the phone down!"
"Leave her to me," said Dan, "I'm a practicing peace-maker! Now who's going to drive? I'd rather not if you don't mind - I shouldn't be driving at all, really, but this sounded like an emergency, so I risked it."
"I'll drive," Isobel volunteered, adding with a meaningful smile, "it's part of my penance!"
As they put the ladder away, Betty noticed there was only one bike in the shed, a boy's. Karen's bike, new last Christmas and never used, was missing.
"Oh, my God," she cried, "that means she could be anywhere!"
"Though we know he won't have hopped on a bus," said Isobel. "Come on. This suggests we search local roads, rather than tramp across fields!"
"People are bound to have seen her," Betty kept saying as Isobel drove to Mrs. Tyler's. "I mean, how could anyone not notice a ripped party dress that ends six inches above the knee? She must look like an ice-skater - and riding a bike too? It doesn't bear thinking about!"
They were approaching the Tylers' house when Dan suddenly pointed.
"Look!" he said. "Something blue. Couldn't make out what it was - just a blur, but it looked the same colour as the dress."
Despite his poor eyesight, Dan was right. It was the taffeta dress, tossed high into a hedge surrounding the Tylers' house, clear evidence that Karen was now either half-naked or wearing something else. But what? And whose?
Isobel stopped the car, and ran up the Tylers' front path. She rang the bell several times but got no reply.
"Look," she panted, hurrying back to the car, "you go round to the back of the house, Betty. See if there's any sign of a break-in. I'll drive round the block - the boy can't be far away. We'll be no more than a couple of minutes, then we'll be right back."
The Tylers owned a large detached house completely encircled by its grounds. As the others drove off, Betty made her way across an open side lawn to the secluded back garden, feeling an unaccustomed sense of guilt as if at any moment she might be seized upon as a suspected intruder. She knew Mrs. Tyler well enough by sight, but not her husband, and her fanciful mind pictured him leaping out brandishing a shot-gun ...
Suddenly she heard something - a bird, perhaps? It came from the bushes on the far side of the lawn, and she felt a prickly sensation in her spine - was someone watching her? Was a ferocious guard dog about to pounce?
Then she heard the sound of dainty footsteps on concrete. Betty darted forward and for a fleeting instant saw a young woman, running towards a narrow passage between the garage and the house. It certainly didn't look like Karen, but why should anyone be running away - unless she thought Betty was a burglar?
Racing towards the garage, Betty rounded the corner to the front of the house and saw the woman again, this time hurrying out through the gate.
Isobel James saw her too, but only just in time. As the figure darted into the road, Isobel let out a fearful scream, stamping both feet on the pedals in utter terror and wrenching desperately at the steering wheel as her worst nightmare was re-enacted before her eyes.
The car swerved, rocked and skidded. It spun round and came to a shuddering halt on the pavement, narrowly missing a concrete lamppost.
Betty came running out. "After her! Oh my God, no! Are you okay?"
Isobel was slumped over the wheel, too terrified to move, while Dan Wright sat very still, shaking his head. He'd seen no more than a sudden blur of movement as the woman dashed into the road. With no time to brace himself against the impact, he'd hit his head hard against the door.
"Dan, that had to be Karen!" Betty yelled. "We must catch her!"
But Karen, or whoever it was, was nowhere to be seen. Dan turned his head vaguely towards the sound of Betty's voice.
"I don't know what's wrong," he said quietly, "but I can't see anyone. I can't see a flaming thing. It's gone completely."
Betty wasn't sure where she found the strength in those vital moments. Isobel was paralysed with fright and began screaming hysterically, while Dan Wright was apparently sightless. Betty was there alone and she had to cope. But who needed attention first?
As she put a comforting arm around both her friends, she felt like crying herself, but the sound of the crash had brought neighbours hurrying out from nearby houses. As if panic-stricken by the oncoming crowd, Isobel scrambled out of the car and went running wildly down the road, her face buried in her hands, barely conscious of where she was heading. Meanwhile Dan sat calmly and waited until willing hands helped him to his feet.
"No, not a damned thing," he repeated quietly. "They warned me this might happen, but I didn't expect it so soon. I haven't even warned my wife."
Betty held him firmly and tried to reassure him. "You'll be in good hands, Dan. Isn't that what Karen said? We'd better get you to a hospital as soon as we can. It may be only temporary, you never know. Keep smiling."
"Never mind me," he said. "What about your friend? Is she okay?"
Betty looked up and saw Isobel being comforted by two other woman who were walking her slowly back towards the car. Then one of the helpers yelled out and broke into a run.
"Hey, there's something under the car!"
Everyone got down to look. There, lying very still, they saw the figure of a young woman.
"Shouldn't move her," cautioned a neighbour, "but I think it'll be all right to roll the car back a few feet."
"Hadn't we better wait for the police?" cautioned another. "You're not supposed to move anything at the scene of an accident."
"Only when there's a fatality, and maybe we can avoid that if we act now."
Two men took charge of moving the car, easing it slowly back until the young body underneath was visible. At first Betty could see only a pair of smart grey shoes - nothing like Karen's. As the car was moved further back, they saw the victim was wearing a smart grey dress - and on the ground beside the unconscious form lay a chestnut-brown wig.
Betty reeled, her heart barely beating as she slumped against a nearby wall.
"Does anyone know her?" asked a faraway voice.
"My child," she nodded. "She did this deliberately."
"Come, I hardly think this could have been deliberate."
But Betty insisted. "I know her only too well. It's her revenge on Isobel James and Mrs. Tyler, on Dan Wright and me, and my little boy, all in one go! Oh, Kevin, my darling, why you too?" To everyone else it seemed she was delirious with grief.
An ambulance arrived. First Dan Wright was driven away by a kindly neighbour to see his own specialist in Rushbury. Someone else took Isobel indoors for a cup of tea, while the ambulance men dealt with Kevin, lifting him onto a stretcher and into the waiting vehicle. Betty insisted on accompanying the child, and knelt beside him as they drove to the hospital.
"Oh, Scruff, my darling. You mustn't let her take you. I need you, my love. Don't let Karen do this to you, she's not worth it."
Slowly the child's eyes opened.
"I won't need him any more, Betty. Dad and I both know how much you love him. He's all yours, Betty, so look after him."
"Thank you, my love." Betty bent down and kissed her child. "What about Dan Wright? What about his eyes?"
"He'll be taken care of. Do something for me, Betty - go to Dan's church next Sunday. You must do that, please, do it for all of us. Be there, please! Just be there!"
And the eyes closed once more.
"Scruff?" she called. "Scruff? Don't die Scruff, please, my darling, don't die. I couldn't bear it if I lost you both."
But there was no response.
<<< Previous Chapter
Back to my Stories Page
Back to my Front Page
Next Chapter >>>
Chapters:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
9
10
11
12
13
Except where specifically noted, all music and stories on this web site are my own creations.
You may not use any of them for any purpose without written permission from me.
Copyright © 2003 Colin Johnson All Rights Reserved.