The Guardian's Protector: The Chamber of Souls Page 9

  Tom looked at her, his little eyebrows raised and said: ‘Ethan no nice.’

  CHAPTER 8

  THE DAY TO REMEMBER

  Tom opened Mark’s present first on Christmas morning. As he unravelled the beautiful colours book filled with letters, objects and shapes, he looked up at Amy, his eyes wide with intrigue. Amy sat him on her knee. The first page was red. She pointed to it and said: ‘Red.’

  Tom studied the page with deep interest. ‘Red,’ he repeated with a smile.

  Amy held the book close to her heart and sighed. Mark knew him so well after one week. He was thoughtful, kind and…so deliciously handsome. Realising her mind was wandering, she looked back at Tom and read him the whole book.

  After opening a miniature ball pit from Jack and Winston and a CD filled with oceanic sounds that Adaizi had given Winston to give to Tom, Tom opened his main present: a huge red car he could sit in and pedal around the living room. Amy helped him inside and he drove around giddily with his feet. She wanted today to be a day to remember and watching him unable to contain his excitement was a good start.

  As they arrived at her parents’, Thomas stood at the door with Francesca in his arms.

  ‘Gandad!’ Tom shouted in excitement.

  ‘And who else is there?’ Amy asked, letting him out of his buggy.

  ‘Fancesca,’ Tom said, running up the cobbled path.

  Thomas bent down and scooped him up with his free arm. ‘Oh you big bruiser!’ he said. He then looked at Amy with a sullen expression. ‘Still no news on Luke?’

  ‘No, Dad. And I don’t want any either!’ Amy shook her head at the fact that he couldn’t help but ask about Luke every time he saw her, even though Amy had told him not to.

  ‘I just thought with it being his son’s first Christmas and…’

  ‘Leave it, Dad!’ Amy pushed the pram past him and made her way into the living room. Her dad followed, bouncing both grandchildren in his arms.

  ‘Bruiser me,’ Tom announced to everyone upon entering.

  Tom was twice the size and weight of Francesca, who, with pink cheeks and dark ringlets, looked dainty and sweet. Thomas placed both children down on the living room floor, making sure Francesca supported herself by the settee.

  ‘What time do you call this?’ Frank said, shoving presents into Amy’s hand.

  ‘Merry Christmas to you too!’ Amy said, handing hers to him.

  Everyone gasped at the beautiful, pink dress with matching hat Amy bought for Francesca.

  Alicia noticed straight away it was from the expensive designer baby shop she boastfully used, loudly proclaiming: ‘I saw that dress last time I was in there. It’s a good job I didn’t want that one!’ She laughed to imply her words were in jest.

  ‘I like it,’ Frank said, giving Alicia a warning glance.

  As Tom opened an outfit from the same shop, Alicia couldn’t help but chime in.

  ‘We thought Tom could do with some clothes.’ She stopped as everyone turned to note her bitchiness. ‘For winter!’

  ‘It’s great,’ Amy said, deciding Alicia wasn’t going to annoy her today.

  Joan quickly handed Alicia and Frank a voucher for a pampering spa day and Amy a voucher for a furniture store where she’d seen a bed and accessories for Tom’s room.

  Thomas gave both Tom and Francesca a little bankbook, each with the amount of two hundred pounds stamped inside. ‘I’ve set up a direct debit so I can add money to it for them each week,’ he said.

  ‘Wow, Tom, you’re richer than Mummy,’ Amy said as she kissed both her parents in thanks.

  Alicia laughed as if the statement were true and said in an unimpressed way, ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Tom, say thank you to Grandma and Granddad for your big pennies.’

  Tom stood, walked over and kissed them. ‘Thank you,’ he said sweetly.

  ‘And Uncle Frank and Aunt Alicia for your lovely suit.’

  He walked over to Frank and gave him a kiss and thanked him, then stood, as if unsure, in front of Alicia. Amy took great pleasure in watching her having to bend towards Tom, a child she had an obvious dislike to, for a kiss.

  All day as Alicia made backhanded comments, Amy smiled. She couldn’t wait to get home where she and Tom could sit and escape this tension. As though he picked up on it too, Tom seemed more reserved than normal. The only thing Amy enjoyed was her dad’s hugs and the fact that she got to see her lovely niece.

  After dinner, while they sat to relax, Tom looked at Francesca with confusion. ‘No want teddy in bin?’ he asked her as if she’d just spoken.

  ‘What?’ Alicia said, sitting up in alarm.

  Tom became sheepish. ‘Fancesca…no like teddy in bin.’

  ‘Oh…my…God,’ Alicia said in total disbelief. ‘He is a freak!’

  ‘Ali!’ Frank snapped, pulling her by the arm into the hall. Amy hadn’t a clue what had occurred but, looking at her parents’ shocked expressions, she knew Tom had said something strange.

  ‘What?’ Amy asked, looking at them. Her dad hung his head and left the room. ‘Mum?’

  ‘Before you came,’ Joan said, looking bewildered, ‘Alicia told us they threw out Francesca’s teddy because she got a new one. She’s been crying for the old one all morning. Frank was going to give it back but Alicia had already put it in the bin.’

  ‘Oh,’ Amy said, looking at her son with shock. Tom, still next to Francesca as if afraid to move, stared up at her sorrowfully.

  ‘Amy,’ Joan said, touching her arm, ‘it’s hard enough to understand how very much advanced he is for eight months old, but saying that—how could he possibly know?’ Her reaction angered Amy.

  ‘He does a lot of things that are extraordinary. He’s psychic. And a healer. He’s healed my headaches!’ Amy said defensively.

  ‘Amy, I think he’s special, I hope you know that, but I wouldn’t tell your dad you think he healed your headache,’ she said, as if concerned for her sanity.

  ‘If he hadn’t heard what Tom said, he’d think I was mad if I told him he was psychic.’

  ‘No. It can’t be true!’ Joan shook her head.

  Joan’s unwillingness to accept Tom’s obvious gift angered Amy. ‘We’re leaving! Thanks for dinner. Tom, say thank you to Grandma for dinner.’ Amy’s eyes filled with tears.

  ‘Amy, please,’ Joan said as Tom approached, becoming tearful herself, ‘don’t leave like this!’

  ‘Thank you, Ganma, dinner,’ Tom said. Joan bent down and held him tight and as she let go, he placed his hands over her eyes.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Joan asked.

  ‘Probably trying to heal your tears,’ Amy said, taking Tom’s hands away before they lit. Amy could see the love and care inside Tom’s expression and, to her, even though the thought of who he was scared her, it was beautiful to see. ‘Come on, Tom, let’s find Granddad.’

  Amy walked into the kitchen and saw her father staring out the window. ‘We’re leaving,’ Amy said.

  ‘I know,’ he responded, without turning to face her.

  Amy walked to the side of him and kissed him on the cheek. He continued to stare out, but she was close enough to see he was upset. ‘Tom wants a kiss!’

  He turned with a sternness ready to scold but then looked down at Tom. ‘Come here then, you big bruiser,’ he said, acting as if nothing was wrong. Tom held his arms up so his granddad could pick him up. ‘Give your old Granddad a kiss goodbye, then.’

  ‘Say thank you to Granddad for your pennies,’ Amy said, grabbing his hands and holding them down before he placed them over her father’s eyes.

  ‘Thank you, Gandad, pennies,’ Tom said but, because of the look on his granddad’s face, his bottom lip quivered.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said. He kissed him quickly and put him down. He patted Amy on the shoulder as his attempt at a hug then shot her a quizzical look before turning back to stare out of the window. Amy had never felt so upset. The adverse treatment made her wonder how her family would react
if they saw more things he couldn’t help. As she stared at her father, she knew this was just the beginning.

  Joan, holding Francesca, was the only one who waved them off. Frank and Alicia were upstairs shouting at each other. Tom gave Francesca a kiss and Amy said goodbye as though for the last time.

  As they set off down the winding, cobbled lane that led to the top of her road, Amy wanted to make sure Tom was oblivious to her upset. In the midst of the cold winter’s night, she pointed to the street lamps and Tom giggled with amazement.

  By the time they got home, Tom’s eyes were half closed. As she helped him up out of his buggy, he kissed her.

  ‘Thank you, Mummy, car,’ he said so sweetly and all on his own.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ she said. He followed her into the kitchen with a smile on his face but, as she switched the kettle on to prepare Tom’s bedtime drink, he began to scream.

  ‘Up, Mummy, up,’ he said, his arms stretched, his face strained as if scared. His hands were opening and closing in panic. ‘Mummy, up!’ He stamped his feet hard, clearly distressed. Amy picked him up, thinking he must be hurt.

  As she did, the front door of her maisonette swung open with a bang and a gust of wind howled through the hallway. As the door closed, Amy’s talisman let out a fluorescent glow. Tom put his head firmly into her shoulder and clung to her, petrified.

  A male voice shouted from the hallway: ‘Hello?’ It was Luke. He hung his jacket in the closet, walked into the kitchen, sat at the table and asked, ‘What’s for tea?’

  He sat in a long, black robe, a strange, dark necklace hanging from his neck. The black, metal pendant resembled the hand of an ancient clock; a triangle shape at the bottom and a circle of clear glass at the top. Half of his hair had fallen out, his face was sunken, grey and old, and he looked painfully thin.

  ‘Luke,’ Amy said, her talisman pulsating, ‘what are you doing here?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ His voice sounded paler than before.

  ‘What are you doing here…asking for your tea? You left!’ She could see from his expression he didn’t understand. ‘You left us, Luke! What are you doing?’

  ‘I…don’t know,’ he answered as if he was completely out of his mind.

  ‘And what are you wearing?’ He looked down at his clothing and started to rub his head. ‘And, what’s that thing around your neck?’

  He took hold of it, a lost look in his eyes. Amy stared at it. It was the most ominous object she’d ever seen. Carved into the triangle was an eye, and inside the circular glass pane sat a shiny, black triangular gem. Around the gem in perfect symmetry were three black tadpole-like creatures, which began to produce smoke from their eyes.

  As the smoke began to escape the pendant, Amy’s talisman rose in front of her and Luke’s rose in response, the black smoke increasing inside. As Amy felt herself being pulled towards it, Tom screamed and squeezed tighter, almost stopping her breath. She drew herself back and held him securely.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she assured him.

  ‘Is that Tom?’ Luke asked, still dazed.

  ‘Yes,’ Amy said, looking at him in total disbelief.

  He rubbed his head in despair. ‘No, he’s too big.’

  ‘Luke, you don’t live here,’ she said like she was talking to an escaped mental patient. ‘You’ve been gone six months!’

  ‘No, I can’t have.’

  ‘Do you not know where you live?’

  He glared at her and, with a quick glint of recognition in his eyes, stood. ‘Let me see him,’ he said, advancing towards them. ‘Hey, Tom.’

  A loud humming noise filled the room as the lights brightened. Tom turned and slapped a blindingly bright hand on Luke’s forehead. As the light struck him with a terrifying crackle, Luke was thrown to the ground, where he shook violently. As Tom’s hand retracted, it sparked with a vicious, white light.

  ‘Luke!’ Amy shouted. In a matter of seconds, he sat up, rubbing his head. ‘Luke, please leave,’ she cried. ‘You’re scaring us!’ As she spoke, translucent light warped out of her talisman, making a protective cocoon.

  Luke looked up at them wistfully, his expression worthy of pity, and Amy felt a tight knot in her chest.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, stumbling to his feet, looking around the room, frightened by the humming. He gave Tom one last glance and fled. As the door closed, the shroud retracted into her talisman.

  Amy ran to the door, locked it, and left the key inside. Tom loosened his grip from around her neck, the humming ceased and the lights dimmed back to normal.

  ‘No like,’ Tom said.

  ‘Don’t worry, you don’t have to see him again,’ Amy assured Tom, her mind racing. It felt like she had a million thoughts at once. She looked out of her hallway window and saw Luke stood ten yards in front of her door, facing the road, his long, black robe billowing madly as he remained as solid as an ice sculpture.

  Amy called Jack and told him what had happened.

  ‘What? He’s still there now?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, peeping out of her living room window. ‘He’s rubbing his head, now. Seriously, Jack, he doesn’t know what day it is!’

  ‘I’m on my way!’

  Two minutes later, Jack stood, talking to Luke. After a couple of minutes, Jack left him where he was and knocked on the door.

  ‘What did he say?’ Amy asked, dragging him inside.

  ‘Not a lot. He doesn’t know where he lives.’

  ‘Do you think he’s lost his marbles?’

  ‘I don’t know, but he looks terrible.’

  Outside, Luke turned to face them and, with a final, morbid glance, set off slowly down the road.

  ‘Watch Tom,’ she said, shoving him into Jack’s arms. Before Jack could protest, she’d grabbed her coat and was out the door.

  Luke seemed to know where he was heading and luckily for Amy, he didn’t turn around. Amy crept behind, every so often hiding behind a bush so as not to be seen. She couldn’t have been less inconspicuous if she tried. The howling wind covered the noise of her shoes on the pavement but its sharp, icy sting burned her soft skin.

  They ventured to the notoriously rough council area near the canal where most houses were boarded up, and headed to a derelict precinct. Amy couldn’t believe she continued to follow. Like a girl possessed, she prowled along the walls and shutters, trying not to be seen, and watched as he strode past the old, boarded up snooker hall and down a dark alley, out of view.

  Approaching the alley with caution, moving farther in from the road, the smell of urine hit her nostrils, making her want to gag. Amy felt the atmosphere change. As the leaves skittering along the concrete came to a halt, the stillness in the air left her feeling colder than the frost. She looked back. It wasn’t Christmas here. The whole precinct, full of long forgotten shops, stood without life. With a chill running up her spine, she stood in a quandary for a moment, overcome by a sense of impending danger.

  A low, haunting growl made her head spin. Her heart drumming in her ears, she peered down the alley; apart from a faint light at the end, which was probably from a group of drug users hanging about under the bridge at the bottom of the alley, it was pitch-black.

  Just before she was about to leave, a wooden doorway with the shape of Luke’s pendant etched in the centre materialised on the side of the alley. As Amy stepped closer, the growling intensified. Then, hearing a voice from behind the door, she edged forward.

  ‘I don’t know, but it happened to everyone, including me,’ said the voice.

  ‘I know. It’s like I stepped into the past,’ Luke answered. ‘I thought I lived there, but I hardly remembered them.’

  ‘Yes, don’t worry,’ said a cold, chilling voice. ‘You’ll soon forget them again and this incident.’

  Something moved behind Amy.

  ‘Excuse me,’ whispered a horrid male voice down Amy’s ear, sending a wave of fright through her. The man dragged her and pinned her against a wall by her throat.
Dazed from the painful blow to the back of her head, Amy’s vision blurred. She could just make out the tall, bald, emaciated figure of a man in a black robe, wearing the same pendant as Luke.

  As his jet black eyes glared deep into hers, another hairless figure stepped out of the shadows. The man holding her throat let go and moved to the side to let him in. Realising her talisman wasn’t working, her legs turned to jelly. Both men stood close enough to block her way out from either side. Her airways filled with the aura of what she could only describe as decaying flesh.

  The second man bent his head down to her face, close enough for her to smell his foul breath. Doing her best not to retch, she turned her head. Her cheek now pressed against the cold wall, he drew closer, sniffed hard at her face and whispered, ‘I smell fear.’

  Tears rolled down her cheeks as her body began to shake. The next moment, his dirty, wet mouth was next to hers, and the stench of his breath seemed to travel into her throat as she squealed.

  A high-pitched laugh came from the doorway and echoed down the alley. ‘What does it want?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ answered the man to Amy’s right. Amy wriggled and his accomplice, still close to her mouth, snarled, bared his rotten teeth then slowly licked her face with his disgusting tongue.

  ‘It’s the mother of the Bright One!’ said another voice from the doorway. ‘The one who made our lord ill.’

  ‘Kill it!’ said another voice. ‘Then it can’t protect the Bright One.’

  No sooner had the words been spoken, she received a hard, sharp blow to the side of her head and another to her gut. The pain pumping, her eyes began to lose focus and hot sticky blood ran down her cheek. Holding her stomach, she thrust her foot to the side, taking out the man’s knee. It crunched as he buckled and he growled furiously. Before she could move, she received a punch to her nose and a tight hand pinned her again by her throat. The talisman did nothing!