Thea: A Vampire Story Page 3

  I smile, unable to hold it off. I was right: this woman truly is gifted. “Okay, you win. As usual.” I sit down on a stack of empty bread crates. “It’s Thea again.”

  “What about her?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Exactly. I’m starting to think I don’t know a single thing about her. She’s always on that computer of hers chatting to God knows who, and then when I ask her anything about school, she just grunts and says everything’s great. It’s like she’s turned into a different person.”

  Kate chuckles. “I may not have any children, but you just described practically every thirteen-year-old in the world.”

  “Yeah, I know what you’re saying, but you haven’t seen the way she looks at me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, for instance, last week, she came home late from a friend’s house—again—and I asked her why she didn’t phone me, and she just looked at me like I was a piece of rubbish.” I peer down at the floor, shaking my head. “I think she hates me.”

  Kate walks over to me, placing her hand on my arm. “Don’t be silly, Sarah—she loves you. She’s just young; that’s all. She’s probably testing out her boundaries. I used to do the same with my mother. Didn’t you?”

  “I suppose,” I reply, shrugging exactly like Thea does when I’m pointing out something obvious to her.

  “See? And you’re so lucky. I’d give anything to have what you have.”

  I snort. “What, a fat ass and a huge mortgage?”

  “No,” she replies. “A real family. I’d love to have a daughter to bitch about.”

  “Really? I didn’t think you were bothered.”

  “Hey, just because I enjoy the occasional joint, doesn’t mean that I don’t think about having kids someday. I’m not getting any younger, Sarah. The clock is ticking.”

  “Well, I don’t think you’d be quite so keen if you bumped into Thea right now.”

  “Look, stop sulking moany-bones and help me with this box.”

  Normally I’d gladly help her, but tonight all I feel like doing is sitting here and doing bugger all.

  Kate takes out the last loaf of bread, and then looks over at me, grimacing. “Come on—don’t just sit there watching.”

  “Not tonight, Kate. I just haven’t got it in me. I think I’m going to ask Darren if I can go home early.”

  “Really?” she asks, eyes wide with shock. “That’s a first.”

  I nod my head, and then come off the crate. “Yeah. I’m going to tell him I’ve got a headache.”

  “Are you sure? He’ll dock your pay.”

  “I don’t care if he does.”

  “What’s the point of going home? Thea is safe, tucked up in bed. Your mother’s more than capable of watching her.”

  “It’s not just that. Mum isn’t in the best shape to be babysitting tonight, especially if Thea starts playing up again.”

  “How come?”

  “Dad’s cancer’s come back. It’s not looking good.”

  “Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Kate says, eyes wide with sympathy. “I didn’t realise. Is there anything I can do? Maybe I can sit with Thea one night. Give you and your mother a break.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m just going to get back to the house.”

  Kate gives me a hug. This is exactly what I need, but I don’t show any emotion on my face—I’m too drained. “Thanks, Kate,” I say, pulling out of it. “I’ll see you next week.”

  “Okay,” Kate replies, rubbing the side of my arm. “Call me if you need anything.”

  “Will do.”

  The store is busier than usual; I bet Darren will kick up a fuss that I’m leaving. Maybe I should tell him about Dad. No, he’ll ask too many questions, and I’m just not in the mood. I just need to talk to him and get the hell out this place.

  7

  Even before I’ve opened the front door, I can hear Mum’s voice. She’s shouting.

  My fingers scramble into my handbag and I dig out the house keys in record time. In a panic, I open the door and burst into the hallway. Mum is standing at the top of the stairs. I can’t see Thea.

  “What’s all the shouting about?” I ask as I make my way up to the landing. At the top I see Thea standing by her bedroom door, her face burning red with rage, iPad under her arm.

  “This little madam just won’t listen to me,” Mum says; memories of my mischievous childhood flooding back. “I’ve told her it’s too late to talk to her friends on the computer—but she’s not having any of it.”

  “It’s only ten o clock!” Thea screams, tears running down her cheeks. “This is the only time we get to talk.”

  “It’s a school night,” Mum points out. “You can talk to them tomorrow.”

  “Tell her, Mum,” Thea orders me. “Tell her that it’s not late. I’m thirteen!”

  My head starts to pound even more, temples throbbing. This is the last thing I need right now. “Look, Thea, Gran’s right. It’s way past your bedtime, so hand over the tablet.”

  “That’s not fair!” Thea cries. “You always let me use it!”

  “Not at this time of night,” I reply. “I had no idea you stayed up so late to talk to your friends.”

  “That’s because you’re always too drunk to notice!” she snaps.

  My mouth drops when I hear her poisonous words. How dare she say something so vicious! Like I’m nothing more than some drunken idiot. I’m her mother, for Christ’s sake!

  “That’s just not true,” I retort, wishing that I’d just stayed in work. “A couple of glasses of wine does not make me an alcoholic.”

  Mum shakes her head and starts to make her way downstairs, brushing past me, her stomping feet echoing across the landing. “She’s your problem now. You deal with her. I need to sit down.”

  Once Mum has disappeared into the living room, I walk towards Thea, rubbing my aching head, trying to will the pain away. “Look, sweetheart,” I say, as softly as I can, “you should be in bed. It’s late. If it were the weekend then it’d be different. But it’s not, so hand it over.”

  Thea glares at me; that vicious look she gave me when I said she couldn’t sleep over Ellie’s house. “Fine then—have it,” she says, spitting her words at me as she hands me the device. If it didn’t cost the earth, I think she would have happily thrown it at me.

  “Thank you,” I say. “It’s for your own good.”

  “What would you know about what’s good for me?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask.

  “All you do is shout,” she says. “You never bother to talk to me.”

  “I try to talk to you all the time, but you never give me a straight answer. You go out; you don’t tell me where you’re going. You come home late from school; I don’t even get a bloody text. So I’m just left in the kitchen, staring at that back door, thinking something terrible has happened.”

  “I do tell you.”

  I grunt. “Yeah, when you feel like it. I worry about you all the time, Thea. I’m petrified that you’ll end up like your sister.”

  “I’m nothing like Ivy. When are you going to understand? She was a selfish sister—and a fucking junkie!”

  I slap Thea across the face.

  Time freezes for a moment, but then unfreezes when she bursts into tears and slams the door in my face.

  My hand shakes as I bring it up to my mouth. Did I really just hit my daughter in the face? No, I couldn’t have. I don’t hit. I’m not Dad. I’d never lay a finger on my family.

  Never!

  Thea’s sobbing bleeds onto the landing. The sound makes my body tighten. I knock the door gently but she screams for me to go away. I think about opening the door anyway, but I just leave her there, crying. I see an image of Ivy, coming home from school, sobbing until her entire face is swollen—too afraid to tell me about the baby, but too huge a burden to carry alone. The memory cuts through me and my throat catches.

  I feel sick; my headache is getting worse. I make my
way downstairs, hands still trembling. I can feel my mind trying to repress the memory of hitting Thea. But that never works.

  Mum is in the living room, so I slip past the door and enter the kitchen. I open the cupboard and pull out a bottle of red. Filling a glass up, I sit at the table, staring at the back door.

  I definitely should have stayed in work.

  8

  Saturday, 9th April, 2016.

  I’m sitting in Mum’s living-room armchair, staring at a dying man. This is the last place I want to spend my Saturday afternoon. But I’m here to support Mum. She’s been through hell these last few years, and now it looks like Dad’s time is almost up. I’ve tried to feel pity for him, for the pain he’s going through—but it’s not as easy as it sounds. The only person who’ll miss him is Mum, and I’m terrified that once he’s gone, she’ll start to lose interest in living. Before he got sick, she needed his addiction to give her life purpose. She’s a problem solver; and Dad getting lung cancer was just another one to fix. But now that’s over. He’ll be dead in months, and there are no maybes this time. Once the chemo has stopped, that’s it. No more Dad.

  I will cry at the funeral; I’m certain of it—but not for him. Only for Mum, and, of course, Uncle Roy.

  Dad has insisted that he dies at home. I don’t blame him; the last place I’d want to see out my days is a stuffy old hospital. No, thank you.

  He’s been fast asleep on the couch since Thea and I arrived, wheezing loudly with every strained breath. Mum says I should forgive and forget before it’s too late. But I already have. At least forgiven. Forgetting is a bit of a stretch. She thinks that I won’t mourn him because I’m angry, that I wish him dead. But that’s not true. I wouldn’t wish anyone dead. I just don’t feel anything for him. After years of watching him coming home blind drunk, or swinging punches at Mum, or vomiting over the carpet, all he is to me is a stranger. And it’s bloody hard to mourn a stranger.

  Thea is sitting on the armchair, watching Toy Story 2 on the TV. She barely knows her grandfather. She only started seeing him after the diagnosis, and before that he was just an old drunk that I kept the girls away from.

  Thea and I haven’t talked to each other since Wednesday. I’ve tried to engage, but all I get in return are teenage-grunts. And ‘sorry’ has done absolutely nothing to soften what I did to her. After the way she spoke to Mum about that iPad, I was planning on grounding her. But then I hit her, and punishing her suddenly didn’t seem all that fair.

  I still can’t believe I did it. It’s just not in my nature. Am I turning into Dad? Has he managed to get his claws into me after all these years?

  No! Never!

  I’m nothing like that fucking asshole!

  Mum doesn’t know that I hit Thea, and I think I’ll keep it that way. It’s so mortifying, and she has enough on her plate already without worrying about my dramas.

  “You hungry, Thea?” Mum asks as she pokes her head into the living room. She always cooks when she’s stressed; the kitchen is a safe haven for her. Dad always stayed in the living room, curled up on the couch, either shouting at the TV or passed out. A fitting place to die really.

  “No thank you, Gran,” Thea replies, shaking her head, her eyes locked on the screen, “I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure? It’s pizza. The ones you like.”

  Thea turns to her grandmother. “Honestly, I’m fine. I had a late breakfast.”

  That’s a lie. I let it slide, though. Now’s not the time for another row about skipping meals.

  “Okay, love,” Mum replies, turning to me. “How about you then, Sarah? You want some pizza?”

  I’m not hungry but I think Mum could use the distraction, so I say, “Yes, please. But not too much. I’m trying to cut down a bit. Summer’s coming.”

  Mum rolls her eyes and then disappears into the kitchen. I follow her in. I could use a break from Thea’s steel wall of silence. Mum is staring into an open oven; there’re puffs of steam coming out. “Nearly ready,” she says with confidence, closing the door. With her back to me, she swills something at the sink. Leaning against the worktop, I wait for her to finish. When she doesn’t turn for over a minute, I walk up to her. Mum is running cold water over the same plate. “Are you okay?” I ask, placing my hand on the side of her arm.

  She doesn’t answer.

  I hear a snivel; she’s crying. Reaching over her, I turn the tap off. “Mum?”

  Sniffing loudly, she turns to me, wipes the tears from her eyes and smiles. It looks forced. “I’m fine, Sarah. Honestly.”

  “You don’t seem fine.”

  “It’s nothing. I’m just having a funny five minutes, that’s all. It’s been a tough few days.”

  To see her like this pains me, no matter how I feel about Dad. “Come here,” I say, pulling her in for a hug, trying to hide the sadness in my voice.

  Mum starts to cry into my shoulder as I stroke her back. Even when Dad was at his most violent, I’d never see her break. She’s always been so tough, like nothing on earth could faze her.

  “I can’t lose him, “ she sobs. “I just want him to be healthy again.”

  As far as I’m concerned, that man has never been healthy. “I’m sorry, Mum, but he’s in so much pain—it’s better this way.”

  She pulls out of the hug, a deep scowl across her brow. “You’d rather he was dead—wouldn’t you? You’d rather he was just wiped off the face of the earth? Just admit it, Sarah.”

  “Don’t say things like that. I wouldn’t wish anyone dead. Just because Dad and I don’t see eye to eye, doesn’t mean that I want you to lose him.”

  Mum shakes her head. “Well, I won’t be losing him. Not on my watch, anyway.”

  “What are you talking about? The chemo’s over.”

  “He doesn’t need chemo,” Mum replies. “I’ll take matters into my own hands—not some useless doctor who doesn’t give a shit about him.”

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, frowning with confusion. Mum’s finally lost it.

  She doesn’t answer.

  “Mum?”

  “Look, just trust me, will you?” she finally replies. “I’m going to help your father, so let’s just leave it at that.”

  What the hell is she talking about? “You can’t just leave it at that. Tell me.”

  “I don’t want to tell you because you’ll say that it’s stupid.”

  “No I won’t.” There’s a good chance I will.

  Mum lets out long exhale. “Fine—if you must know, I’m going to give your father vampire blood.”

  “What!” I can’t help but laugh out loud. Vampire blood? Did she really just say that? “Tell me you’re joking?”

  “See?” she says, shaking her head, clearly annoyed with me. “That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”

  “So this isn’t a wind up then? You’re serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious! Your father is dying in there, Sarah, so the last thing I’d do is joke about it.”

  “Yes, but, Mum—vampire blood? Really?”

  “Look, I know it’ll be expensive, but it’d be worth every penny. One dose and he’ll be his old self again. Better even. He won’t age; he won’t get sick. It can be like it was before.”

  “What are you talking about, Mum? He was an asshole! Have you forgotten what he did to us? All those nights spent at Auntie Julie’s house when he was on the warpath. Has all that slipped your mind?”

  “For God’s sake, Sarah! That was years ago! Your father’s a changed man. You haven’t noticed because you and Thea never bother coming ‘round.”

  I chuckle; bewildered that she could be so deluded. “And why the hell is that?”

  “Because you’re spiteful. You never give anyone a second chance. It’s Sarah’s way—or it’s no way!”

  I shake my head, my body tightening; flashes of Dad flood my mind. I see him pulling Mum’s hair until she’s on all fours like a dog; I see him chasing me around the garden, threating to burn all
my toys. How dare she says these things! “Well, if I’m stubborn,” I retort, “then I wonder where I got it from!”

  I watch her lips try to form a fitting response, but nothing comes out. So the kitchen becomes silent instead.

  It’s painful.

  I feel like grabbing Thea and leaving right this second, away from this crazy woman. Away from that wanker in the living room. But then Mum breaks out into tears, and I crumble, put my resentment to one side, and pull her into a second hug.

  “I’m sorry, Sarah,” Mum weeps, her words almost muted. “I didn’t mean what I said. You’re a good person.”

  I shush her gently. “It’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. I’m here for you—no matter what.”

  Mum moves her head away from my shoulder and then looks at me, her eyes streaming, bloodshot. “Then you’ll get it for me?”

  “Get what?”

  “The blood.”

  She can’t be serious. “Are you crazy?” I ask, stepping away from her. “You can’t turn him into a vampire.”

  Mum wipes the tears away with her sleeve. “Why not?”

  “For one thing, it’s illegal. If the police found out, you’re looking at twenty years in prison. And then Dad would be taken away and killed by the government.”

  “You don’t think I know all that? Of course I do. But what the hell have I got to lose? Living with this cancer has been worse than any prison sentence. Your father will be dead in a few months, maybe even sooner. But at least this gives him a chance.”

  “You’ve lost your mind! You’re talking about turning Dad into a bloody vampire! What happens afterwards? What if he attacks you? Yeah, he might get his health back, but he’ll be a lot stronger than he was. What if he’s more aggressive, too?”

  “Then I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it. But right now, all I’ve got to look forward to is a life without your father. And that’s not something I’m ready for.”

  “Look, Mum, I love you, and the last thing I want is to see you unhappy, but if you want to risk your life, or jail, then you’re on your own. I want absolutely no part in it whatsoever.”