The Girl That Fell Out Of The Family Tree E-Book

Carol McAllister

• Herausgeber: novum publishing
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 149

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

Lucinda Grey grew up in a small Scottish village, feeling at odds with her family and surroundings. Rebelling against her strictly religious parents, she falls in love with music and a few men along the way! As she travels the world, Lucinda will experience some of the best and worst it has to offer. Will she be able to find her voice, or will her travels and romances lead her to darker places when she is forced to finally return home?

Leseprobe

Imprint

All rights of distribution, also through movies, radio and television, photomechanical reproduction, sound carrier, electronic medium and reprinting in excerpts are reserved.

© 2024 novum publishing

ISBN print edition:978-3-99146-681-9

ISBN e-book:978-3-99146-682-6

Editor:Atarah Yarach

Cover image:Andrew7726, Zdenek Sasek | Dreamstime.com

Cover design, layout & typesetting: novum publishing

www.novum-publishing.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

PART ONE: NEVER WATCH YOUR PARENTS HAVING SEX

Lucinda Grey grew up feeling at odds with herself, her family and surroundings. Despite loving parents, it was clear to her from a young age that she simply didn’t belong. One event, at the very heart of summer, shook her to the core, and made her question her very existence. Her primary teacher later revealed all, when she led the whole class down to the seashore. The villagers had woken to a stench that had crept in through their windows; a rotten, sickening stench, the like they’d never smelt before.

“Come on P5. I want you to join hands. This poor fish tried to make it home but got beached in the narrows.”

“Is he dead, Miss?”

“Yes, I’m afraid he is, John.”

Lucinda felt a ferocious heat grip her plastic sandals, as they danced around the monster whale now rotting in the sun.

Later that day their teacher made them make papier-mache models of it, while Lucinda silently vowed never to go into the sea again – a promise she would keep until some three years later. In the meantime escapism felt safer, closer to home, and so she became a bookworm.

It all began with Enid Blyton’s adventure series, the ‘Famous Five’, but being Lucinda, things quickly took a darker turn. She was attracted to James Herbert’s horror book ‘The Rats’ and, knowing her strictly religious Mother would wholly disapprove, realised she’d have to hide it.

Lucinda hid it in a big old chest in her parent’s bedroom, where they kept their woollen jumpers. Now that summer was in full swing, she reckoned it would be a while before they’d go in there again.

One night her parent’s decided on an ‘early night’ and had got there before her. Such was Lucinda’s need to devour the next chapter, she decided to sneak in quietly on all fours. Sliding like a snake through the brown shag pile carpet, her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark.

The first thing she noticed above the flickering flames, was the little tub of Vaseline that always sat meltingly warm there. She had often wondered about that little jar, and now to her horror she learned the horrible truth. There they were. Quite the horrible vision. Letting out little groans, little cries for help. What on earth was happening? Were they sharing the same nightmare? Maybe they did everything together? Lucinda’s mind was racing. Then she caught sight of her Father on top of her mother. She suddenly couldn’t move a muscle and was forced to stay there for quite some time, as they sweated, wrestling amongst the bedding. Finally recovering her senses, she crawled out backwards, grazing both knees with impressive carpet burns. No need for James Herbert that night.

She fought a restless battle with sleep. What else would she discover about them, and the complexities of family life?

A new day dawned, with the walls creaking, and angular flashes of sunlight.

“Are you getting up soon, Lucinda?” Her mother’s voice carried shrilly from next door, though that day Lucinda found it hard to meet her mother’s gaze or carry on the usual banter with her father. Why did she feel a stranger in her own home? Why did she have an aching urge to run away?

CHAPTER ONE

PART TWO: NEVER LEAVE HOME WHEN YOU ARE STILL A CHILD

Lucinda and her best friend Ellery were giggling in class, which to all was nothing unusual, only they seemed to be bubbling with a strange excitement they smugly needed to share. Ellery flicked a rolled-up piece of paper, which bounced off Hazel Manson’s head. The girl quickly spun around, her lizard green eyes demanding an explanation.Ellery tilted her chair back and rocked back and forth, teetering on two legs.

“Hey. I just wanted to tell you that this seems like a really good day to die.”

You’re mad, and you know what? I hope you do, so there.”

The school bell sounded, and there was the usual scramble to get out of the door first only this time Lucinda paused to take one final, wistful look back at the place that had been her prison. This would mean goodbye to all of that, to her class and her school lessons, forever.

The rush of freedom propelled the giggling pair out of the school gates and up a steep climb to rolling hills and woodland. Ellery threw her school bag over a high wall first.

“We won’t be needing these anymore,” she said matter-of-factly, with her trademark low giggle.

“Nope,” echoed Lucinda, heaving hers. The contents of their precious school bags took flight like a flock of paper seagulls. That single vision would stay with them both for years to come, as would the empowering sense of freedom.

“What have you brought for eating?”

“I’ve brought a tin of beans.”

“Well I’ve brought biscuits.”

“What, no bread?”

“I suppose it’s better than nothing.”

They tramped on, bare knees scratched by the hidden thorns amongst the rushes.

“Do you suppose our mothers will be missing us by now?” Lucinda asked quietly, thinking in flashbacks to the horrors she’d witnessed in her parents bedroom just nights before.

“Miss us?. My dad will bloody kill me if I ever see him again.”

The wood, which had been tempting and inviting in the sun, now closed darkly around them. There were creaks and cracks in the distance. So many unexplained sounds. Buttery light faded to purple, and without words, the girls joined hands. Lucinda could hear her grandmother’s voice, bringing so many threatening images to mind.

“What time is it?”

“Why? Don’t tell me you’re worried we might meet up with Willie Winkie!”

“Don’t be crazy. I’m more worried we might meet up with ‘black Danny.’ Mum says he’s a flasher and an alcoholic.”

“What’s a flasher?”

“I think it’s someone who likes to show off their money.”

Suddenly there was a snap behind them, some way off. They locked eyes, and without needing to shout ‘Run!’ the pair took off at a gallop.

It was quite an exhilarating release from the tension that had been building, and they giggled in sync with their knock-kneed run, school ties whipping their shoulders. On like a couple of gazelles being hunted by lions, jet propelled down the mole infested hill.

“Where to now?” Ellery asked Lucinda, who was bent double, gasping for air.

“I don’t know, but I’d feel safer down the shore.”

“Good idea, and at least we’ll be nearer to catch the ferry in the morning.”

It felt colder there. There were clouds of midges, and the washed-up scent of dried seaweed and raw sewage combined.

“Oh no!” Ellery squealed, “There are bats about!”

“Oh, they won’t hurt you.”

“Wanna bet? I once was riding my bike at speed, and one got tangled in my hair. It was horrible. The stuff of nightmares.”

“We could just call it off and walk each other home,” Lucinda said quietly. Even in the twilight, she noticed the massive relief, the weight lifting off her friend’s shoulders.

Ellery walked Lucinda up to her parent’s front door. Lucinda’s mind raced as the door inched open and the light blazed out, scattering clouds of directionless insects. She hadn’t expected to cry, or run straight into her mother’s skirts, burying her head; nor had she expected to see her mother’s pained expression, a powerful look she’d never seen before. It was the first time they’d truly bonded, but in seconds her mother pulled away, regaining her stern composure.

“I’ll get my coat and walk Ellery home. Lucinda, go straight to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“Bye.” Lucinda waved Ellery off, and didn’t see her friend for another month. The punishment bit hard over the weeks that followed. No after-school clubs. No tennis or sport. No friends round. Perhaps worst of all, she missed the demolition of an old American air raid shelter that had been standing since the second world war. It was quite the event in the village calendar and would be talked about for years to come. As usual, Lucinda felt the outsider, as the crushing vibrations carried for miles.

CHAPTER TWO

ONLY TAKE PRESCRIPTION MEDICATION

“Lucinda, what are you doing tonight?”

“Practising guitar in my bedroom.”

“Why don’t you go out with your friends any more? This being locked away night after night just isn’t healthy.”

“What do you mean? You used to want me to stay in more.”

“I know, but now you’re fifteen, nearly sixteen, and you should be out enjoying life. You know, meeting girls and boys your own age. Going out dancing, enjoying life,” she mouthed angrily, which didn’t suit the sentiment at all.

“I am enjoying life,” Lucinda snapped, and ran upstairs two at a time.

Her bedroom door slammed, and soon a familiar samba beat began throbbing. The Brazilian music soothed her. She couldn’t explain why, but it was her new guilty pleasure, and she’d regularly tune in. It was vaguely sexy, exotic, and about a million miles from the dullness of home. When she did go out, she spitefully hung out with a very different crowd. They tuned into reggae music, had braided long hair, and trailed around looking tired in their Afghan coats.

“Hey, you want to try some magic mushrooms?” asked Joy, the local minister’s daughter.

“Why?” Lucinda answered innocently. “I hate the taste of mushrooms. Disgusting!” She pulled a face.

“Oh, we don’t eat them. Just watch. We boil them up and make tea.”

Lucinda was engrossed in the whole ceremony, from the BobMarley track to the scraping and drying out of the fungi in tinfoil.

“Look,” said Joy, “Fiona’s got the symbol tattooed on her wrist in henna.”

“Latin name: Psilocybe Mexicana.”

Lucinda was drawn in hypnotically. Not only by the excitement of dabbling in this seemingly edgy experiment, but feeling truly alive for the second time since discovering music and the hypnotic rhythms from Brazil. She imagined what her mother would think if she could see her now, which made it even more appealing and grown up.

Everything turned hazy. Fiona sipped from her cup first. Lucinda noticed her face turn paler, in startling contrast to her vivid black eyeliner.

“Now your turn.”

She swallowed deeply and stared at the lights. They popped and fizzled like fireworks and the patterned carpet was moving. Drawers were popping open of their own accord, and out flew jumpers and socks. Lucinda was reeling, but time was moving on.

“I’d better get home, you guys. Will either of you walk me?”

Joy had passed out and was already snoring. As for Fiona, she gave her a red-eyed “No,” pulled her coat around her shoulders and curled up into a ball.

Lucinda began the frightening journey home, afraid to look up at the street lights. Her heart was pounding, but she just had to get through the door.

“You enjoyed yourself, dear?” Her mother asked.

“Yes, it was okay.”

She slumped down in her usual chair in front of the television – only that was the only ‘norm’ in the whole sordid set-up, because her mother was now half human, half pig, with hairy pink pointed ears and an enormous snout. By some miracle she was deftly knitting, furiously peeping over fragile rimmed spectacles, and her red-haired father was luckily asleep, because he was a silky green cockerel.

“Keep a lid on this, Lucinda,” she silently preached. “This is all in your fucked up imagination. You’re hallucinating on the mushroom brew, but you’ll snap out of it soon enough.”

Despite appearing a grotesque pig in a floral dress, her mother had truly blossomed, and made happy little grunts and snorts as her favourite Saturday night dancing competition finally got underway.

“Aren’t the dresses beautiful Lucinda?”

“Yes. I suppose they are.”

“Aren’t you going to mention our new colour television? I thought you might have made some comment.”

They had been living in a sepia, black and white world for as long as Lucinda had watched television, but of course she had been afraid to comment on anything that night. It took four more hours to come back down off the drug that had stimulated her beyond her wildest imagination but, mind well and truly blown, of course Lucinda had to experience it again, only well away from her parents this time.

She chose a sunny day for a seemingly innocent walk along the shore road, but she felt a bit of a bandito as she hot-footed it to a well-known woody spot where she knew that strain of mushroom had been thriving. Great clumps clung under a rock face, and in no time, Lucinda had ripped off a good couple of bunches. She threw down her jacket, and sat on a warm pebbly ledge, to make her roll-up cigarette filled with the magic mushrooms. Once lit, she inhaled deeply, and she was again transported from one world to another.

She had the privilege of seeing Moses in long beard and biblical dress before her. He raised his staff, and the bush beside him caught fire. It seemed to blaze for hours.

“Wow.” Lucinda was coming back down, genuinely believing she had witnessed a miracle, until someone shouting distracted her.

“Look out, dear! The ferry’s coming into the pier!” She woke up as water gently splashed her face. She had nearly drowned, but it had been the greatest feeling of peace and contentment she’d ever encountered.

Although Lucinda had once again withdrawn from the colourful crowd she’d been hanging with, her dabbling and lone experimentation nearly ended it all. It typically happened with her parents away from the house one weekend.

“Why don’t you come with us?” Her mother had begged.

“I’ll be fine, really.”

With a list of dos and don’ts ringing in her ears, Lucinda finally had the house all to herself. She put on a dreamy instrumental track and threw more coals on the fire. She idly got up and poured herself a whiskey from her father’s cocktail cabinet. a new habit she’d been covering up. She was alone, and could do what she liked.

She made herself comfortable in front of the roaring fire and began meticulously going through her mother’s medicine box. There were the usual headache pills and syrupy cough medicines in sickly colours; then there was, expecting miracles to overcome her weak will. She held them up to the light.

“I wonder what will happen if I take some of those?” The whiskey hit hard, and she settled into her experiment.

Lucinda must’ve swallowed a strip of over thirty before she recovered her senses. By then, things happened fast. She felt ice cold. Her eyes flickered quickly side to side, until she could barely focus. It came with an ominous feeling of dread. Things were going to end badly. With her heart thumping loudly in her chest, and her mouth crying out for water, she staggered up the stairs to bed, but before passing out, she had to leave her mother some sort of explanation, at the very least, a final loving last goodbye. So, it took her all her strength to heave herself up off the pillow, and she began scribbling on her pink bedroom wall. That was it. She lay back down to die. Darkness tightened around her, and a loss of consciousness followed, till she heard the noise of her parent’s returning home .

“I’m saved.”

Lucinda blacked out again. When she woke next, light was creeping in under her curtains. She could hear her parent’s snoring in the room next to hers.

“I’ve got to stand up.” She staggered unsteadily towards her little French windows and peered down to the gravel drive glistening below. Eddie, the local mechanic, was working under the bonnet of her father’s car.

She wanted to bang on the windows and shout for help. Instead, she closed the curtains tightly, and stumbled back to bed. She had to wake her parents, like it or not. It was the only way she’d survive this.

“Lucinda, is that you? Why are you knocking?”

“I’ve taken some pills, I’m not very well.”

She heard a disturbance from her parent’s bedroom. Her mother appeared in her dressing gown.

“You’ve just had a bad dream, that’s all.”

“No, listen. If you don’t believe me, look in myjeans pocket. You’ll find the empty packet in there.”

She could barely see her shocked reaction, but heard her waking her father and running down the stairs. She called the G. P., despite it being the middle of the night.

“Yes, around thirty.”

“I see. Make her sick.”

In no time her mother had her by the scruff of the neck and was shovelling salt water down her throat. Lucinda retched from the pit of her stomach. Her father appeared in pyjamas and outdoor shoes, a sure sign they were a family in crisis.

“Dad. What’s wrong with your car?” she asked between the vile contractions.

“Nothing, Lucinda, why?”

“It’s just that Eddie is out there fixing it.”

Her mother and father exchanged weary looks that said it all.

“Come on Lucinda. Let’s get you back to bed. It’s probably best you sleep this off. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Turns out it was far from over, reaching the top of the stairs, reality hit, when she claimed she saw her neighbour’s heads popping out of their chimney pots. So, her mother marched her around until the hallucinations calmed, and she slept soundly for another twelve hours.