Hopes vengeance, p.1
Hope's Vengeance, page 1
Hope's Vengeance
Ricki Thomas
Olympia Publishers (2009)
* * *
* * *
Hope is a woman like no other. She is a pocket dynamo, a bundle of energy, drive and ambition. But underneath the surface Hope is hurting and as her self-esteem sinks ever lower she finally seeks some answers to the questions she cannot even begin to ask. As Hope's counsellor, Dawn is unprepared for the rollercoaster ride that Hope will take her on. For Hope is not a force to be taken on lightly and it will take all of Dawn's professionalism and skill to guide Hope through to recovery and understanding. As Dawn increasingly suspects that there have been dark times in Hope's past that not even she can recall, the relationship between client and counsellor becomes more strained and dangerous. For the more Hope recalls and understands the more dangerous she becomes, not only towards those who wronged her, but to the people she loves and to herself.
About the Author
A single mum to four whirlwinds, and ex-accountant, Ricki s been writing professionally for nine years, and had many articles and short stories published in magazines and on the internet. She divides her time now between property development and writing, in her words, getting the best of both worlds: DIY is a great leveller.
HOPE’S
VENGEANCE
Ricki Thomas
A Wild Wolf Publication
Published by Wild Wolf Publishing in 2011
Copyright © 2011 Ricki Thomas
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publishers, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed by a newspaper, magazine or journal.
All Characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
E-Book Edition
www.wildwolfpublishing.com
Also from this author
Unlikely Killer
Bloody Mary
Session One
“So why are you here to see me?” Dawn relaxed into the chair, crossing her slender legs, the worn, charcoal jeans tight over her knees.
Opposite her, Hope sat stiff, unsmiling. “You know why, it’s been headlines for months.”
“I don’t read headlines. You came to me, remember, so tell me, in your words, why are you here to see me?”
Hope’s body remained rigid, a sardonic sneer beneath the irritated eyes. She huffed, exaggerated and rude. “I’ve recently been freed from Talavera Bruce prison in Rio, after being set up by my best friend. Having paid for her lavish wedding earlier this year, and having known her for over twenty years, I thought that was a bit of a liberty.”
Dawn said nothing, scanning Hope’s face, her body language, it was already clear that her latest, and most famous, client, was going to be a tough one. With fists clenching from unreleased anger, and her jaw tensely firm, Hope was retaining more in than she was allowing out. Dawn studied the woman before her. Her face was sweet, attractive, but her cheeks were hollow, and her eyes registered a deep inner pain. Dawn knew she was good at her job, and she liked a challenge, so she was looking forward to working through the anguish.
Hope could feel the scrutiny; she crossed her arms, relaxing in the protection of the physical barrier. “Well?”
“You’re paying me, I’m your counsellor. It’s not me who needs to talk, it’s you.” The sequins on her tie-die tunic glistened in the single September ray that streamed through the window, Dawn could feel the fear tinged ambivalence of the petite, smart but casually dressed woman.
The words were light, almost nervous. “Completely confidential?”
Dawn let out her breath in hopeful relief; maybe they’d finally crossed a line. “Yep.”
Timidly grateful, Hope relaxed, her body softening, and the wall between them tumbled gently. “I’ve known Lucy since my last year at junior school, that’s what hurts the most. We’ve been friends for so long. She’s had a rough time, and I tried to make things better because I can afford to now.”
“Now?”
The half smile belied the irony. “I haven’t always been this successful, you know. I’ve had plenty of lean years to draw from. But now I have money, I want to make the people around me happy.”
“And you thought paying for Lucy’s wedding would make her happy?”
“I knew it would. It did.”
From the quiet reticence Dawn could feel Hope retreating again, she was going to have to watch that tendency, keep her talking. “Tell me from the start, tell me how it all happened.”
The prompt worked, Hope was back in the room. She took a few deep breaths to steel herself, and began relating her story. “It all started on New Years Day, just after the bells had rung the year in. A friend of mine, Helen, she’d arranged a surprise party for me to cheer me up.”
“A worthwhile friend!”
Dawn’s aside was met by a satirical snort. “I say friend, and she has turned out to be a good one, but she’s actually my third husband’s ‘other’ wife. Anyway, that’s for another session, I want to deal with Lucy’s betrayal first.”
“That’s fine, you tell me what you want to tell me.”
“It had just gone midnight when Lee proposed to Lucy, it was so romantic, down on bended knee, flowers, the works. Neither of them had been married before, and I guess I wanted to do something to make it extra special for them, so, because I’ve got a big house with massive gardens, I offered to host the reception there.”
Hope scanned Dawn’s face; insecurely seeking approval of her success, her wealth, but the unimpressed, yet friendly, smile didn’t waver. “That’s very generous, she must mean a lot to you.”
Irritated, Hope sneered again. “Meant.” She shuffled in her seat, playing with the explanation carefully before letting it go. “Lucy has been there for me through some very difficult times, and I needed her to know how grateful I was. I guess I even want to forgive her now, even after all of this, but I think I need your help for that.”
“Tell me about the wedding.”
Hope’s face broke into her first smile, genuine and delicate, but also animated and alive. “It was going to be a summer wedding, but Lucy found out she was pregnant in the New Year so they brought the date forward.”
“Lovely, was it her first baby?”
“No, third. She had Callum young, then Christopher in her mid twenties. Neither are Lee’s. Anyway, she didn’t want to be heavily pregnant in the photos, so we decided on the eighth of April. I live in a small village, and the church is just around the corner, it’s really pretty, so they said they wanted to get married there. I was happy about that, and we used my address for the banns. I was Matron of Honour.” Hope’s words trailed and Dawn could feel her retreating again.
“She obviously treasured your friendship, at the time, anyway.”
Taken aback by the challenging stare, the agony in Hope’s eyes was fierce, and Dawn realised she would need to plough through many layers before she got to the core of her client’s pain. Sarcasm rippled across the retort. “If she did, she had a funny way of showing it.”
Dawn hastily backtracked, eager to dispel the grey atmosphere, ensuring her tone remained light and positive. “So, you helped to plan the wedding?”
The air was stagnant and still as the weary explanation followed the sigh. “I arranged the caterers, a local firm, and the DJ we’d used at the New Year’s Eve party. Lucy wanted to use the barn rather than the house, she said it was far enough from the neighbours to avoid any complaints about the music, but close enough to the kitchen for the caterers. It suited me perfectly because it wouldn’t affect our family life.”
“Our? Who lives with you?”
“Come on Dawn, you must read Hello, doesn’t everyone?”
Dawn chuckled, the mass of tumbling curls swaying over the ethnic velvet waistcoat, blonde contrasting with burgundy. “No way, it’s not my thing.”
Hope grinned widely, the crinkling laughter lines softening the harshness, revealing the unexpectedly beautiful woman inside, and Dawn realised she’d just passed one of Hope’s tests. “No, I guess you don’t. I have three kids. I had Penny when I was eighteen, then there’s Olive, and my gorgeous little Bern.”
“Lovely. How old are they?”
“Bern’s seven, he’s a loveable little rogue, Penny’s thirteen now, and Olive’s nine. Have you got any?”
Dawn shook her head. “So you were holding the reception in the barn.”
“I was shocked when I saw the guest list, she’d invited hundreds, but I stuck to my word, and just arranged a marquee as well. I had the best local florist in to adorn everything with fresh flowers, mainly red roses because that was the theme Lucy wanted, and I had the bakery do a five tiered cake, showered with tiny handmade sugar-paste roses.”
“That must have cost a fortune!” Dawn knew her client was wealthy, but the shock was genuine.
Hope nodded, a rueful expression as her eyes dropped to the floor. “She was worth it. At least, I thought she was. She bought the dress herself, had it made by somebody in Reading, where she lives. It was stunning, really unusual, elaborate. Although she was four months pregnant, her bump didn’t show, which was a surprise because the dress was fitted. It was just an excellent design. It followed the theme of the wedding, with tiny red rosebuds tumbling down her back and along the train. She kept the design a secret so when I first saw her on the wedd
The seconds ticked by as Hope drew calming, deep breaths, gathering her anguish and locking it away. “My Penny and Olive were bridesmaids, along with Lucy’s nieces, Tequila and Sangria.” Her eyes flashed, looking for a smile, but Dawn kept her composure. “Penny and Olive wore scarlet dresses, and the two little girls were in pink. I had the florist sprinkle pink and red petals from the gate to the barn, just a little surprise to take Lucy’s breath away.”
“I can hear the bitterness in your voice, you obviously tried very hard to make this a special day for her.”
“I did.” Frustration replaced the scorned expression. “You know, I was busy too, winter and spring, finishing the book, the publisher kept returning the manuscript, demanding alterations. It was only a week before the wedding when they agreed it was ready to go to print. I was busy at work, and trying to arrange the perfect bloody wedding at the same time. And I did it. The book, the perfect wedding. I did it for her. And that’s how she bloody repaid me.”
“What’s the book about?” Dawn knew all about the bestseller, she’d read it, and had been massively impressed with both the style and content.
“It’s called ‘Are Things What They Seem?’ It’s about bullying, the devastating effects it has on society. Not just bullying at school, but in the workplace, home, even the streets. It sold well.”
Dawn smiled at the understatement. “Was it your first book?” She knew the answer, but she needed to keep Hope talking.
“No, second. My first was… hold on a minute, you’re not going to tell me you haven’t heard of the first one, no-one could miss the scandal that surrounded that one, reader of Hello or not!”
Dawn allowed herself a deep sigh of impatience. “Women and Violence, Is There a Solution? Hope, you need to understand that I want to hear things from you, not third-rate journalists. Yes, I know your books, yes, I’ve read them, both of them, they’re fantastic, you raise so many important issues, but I want to hear how you feel, do you understand that?”
Hope didn’t know whether to feel chastised or delirious. Over the past few years when she’d tried to express her feelings, the deaf ears dismissed her lazily, so the role of unassuming mother, cleaner, worker, the silent one in the background, blending into the wall, seen but not heard, that was the person that arose naturally now, a contrast to her early, determined days. Now someone had given her permission to speak. To express herself. To feel. Dawn was different, they may have only met half an hour ago, but she liked her, her quirkiness, her funkiness. For the first time in years Hope felt ready to let someone in.
With years of pent up anguish welling inwardly, the sigh of relief was almost visible, and the whiteness left Hope’s knuckles, she leaned back in the chair. Dawn repressed her own relief, knowing she needed to stay in the role of protector if Hope was to continue to relax. A full five minutes of silence passed, Dawn bided her time, guessing that Hope was preparing a landslide.
Eventually it came. “Lucy came to stay on the Friday, we had a drink, had a laugh in the evening, it was fun. We got up early on the Saturday, had a long, lazy breakfast, fruit, meats, cheeses. Bucks fizz!” Her chuckle was gentle, tinged with childish embarrassment. “We had a good laugh, you know. After breakfast we went upstairs to my suite for a full-on pampering session. We had hairdressers, a make-up lady, and I’d bought loads of new products, expensive stuff, so we could all feel beautiful. It was fun, special.” She sighed remorsefully.
“I’d hired a couple of Daimlers so we could arrive at the church in style, people stopped and stared as we went past, it must have looked impressive, the ribbons, the flowers.” Dawn shifted in her seat, eagerly listening to the tale she’d already studied in the tabloids.
“Lucy’s eldest, Callum, gave her away, he looked so smart in his suit. We followed them down the aisle, and I was so proud of her, her elegance, her beauty, my best friend. It makes me sick now to think of it.” Hope’s voice cracked, her knuckles whitening once more, and she swallowed heavily, choking back the tears she refused to cry.
“At the reception Lee seemed so genuine. He kept thanking me, over and over, in fact it became quite embarrassing in the end. I’d arranged for some silver service waiting staff, and they presented the guests with Champagne, then saw to our every need whilst we ate. The food was commendable, the chefs certainly knew how to feed the five thousand with style.”
Dawn leant forward in her chair, fingers entwined, face quizzical. “Let me get this right, you paid for all of this?”
“It was my wedding present to them, Lucy meant a lot to me.” Hope shrugged nonchalantly, oblivious that she’d tugged up her sleeve to scratch her arm, revealing thick scars of self-harm. Dawn mentally noted them, realising there was more to Hope’s troubles than a spell in prison or a twisted friend. “The day was perfect, special. Everyone who came said they had a fantastic time, there was lots of laughter, hugs, pleasantries. I was really proud, of Lee and Lucy, of Callum, of my kids.”
“What about you? You arranged it all.”
Another deep sigh. “I guess I was proud of me. No, fuck that, I’ll be honest. I was jealous, no, that’s too strong. Envious then. Is that selfish?”
“Because she got to be princess for the day?” Dawn relished the admission. This was truth, this was feeling, emotion. She was cracking through the shell.
“No, I’m not the type to be a princess, I prefer the spotlight to stay off me. I was envious, and I still am, more so after what’s happened, I was envious that nobody has ever lavished that sort of attention on me, made me feel special and worthwhile. It makes me feel selfish saying that.”
“You arranged and paid for a dream wedding for your friend. I doubt anyone could describe you as selfish.”
Tugging her sleeve back into place Hope leaned forward, she grasped the plastic cup of water from the table, taking a sip before gulping it down. She wiped her mouth with the back of her delicate hand. Her answer dismissed the compliment. “After the wedding I felt as if I was in a void. Lee and Lucy had gone to Rio on honeymoon, and back to Reading afterwards, my book had been accepted, I had nothing to do, nothing important, except bum around the house, being a mum, being a housewife. That’s never been enough for me. I’d been toying with the idea of writing a book on conspiracy theories for years, so I played about researching bits on the net, but my heart wasn’t in it. So when I got a call from Lee in May telling me they were going back to Rio as they’d enjoyed the honeymoon so much, I jumped at the chance of joining them. That was a big mistake.”
“Fill me in here, I need some background. Did you pay for the initial trip?”
“No, Lee did. And he paid for this one, me as well. Board, flights. I objected at first, but Lucy pleaded, said they wanted to thank me for the wedding, and that they could afford it because Lee had been given a massive bonus at work. It all seemed believable, never occurred to me there’d be a hidden agenda.”
“No, why would it!” Dawn recalled the opposite slant the papers had taken, and it still made her stomach turn, hearing it from the victim, hearing the words through clenched teeth, raw with anger. “So you went?”
“Yes. End of June. Faith looked after the kids.” Dawn’s eyes asked the question. “My sister.”
“Are there just the two of you?”
The ironic laugh tinkled again. “No. Charity’s the eldest, then Faith, me, and Happiness is sixteen. We had another sister, Honesty, you’ve probably read about her. She died on New Year’s Eve, be five years ago in December. She was shot in the head, close range.”
Momentarily unprofessional, Dawn couldn’t stop the gasp from escaping. “You mean Little Honesty. The singer. Killed by a stalker.”
“The very same.” White knuckles, grating voice, but this time they were joined by an involuntary shudder, which Dawn couldn’t help but share.
“Have you ever talked that through with a counsellor? That must have been a tremendous loss, she was only young.”
