All the Rage (31 page)

‘In case you are all wondering,' Marcus said, matter-of-factly, ‘this bottle in my hand contains a rag soaked in white spirits. And this,' he added, equally flat in tone, ‘is a cigarette lighter. ' He flicked with his finger and a flash of light flared in the semi-darkness. ‘It goes without saying, that when one meets the other, nasty things start to happen. '

Maggie was the first to react. ‘Burn in hell, be my guest, just don't expect us to join you. '

Michael responded by taking a firm grip on the trigger of the shotgun. ‘Marcus, be careful! ' he shouted. ‘This place would burn to the ground with just one careless spark. It's all it would take. '

Panicking, Lauren reinforced her grasp upon Kara, swinging her fully round to face Marcus.

‘Step down,' Lauren said.

Marcus gasped, seeing the facial injuries to his girlfriend. He had to hold firm and find a way to help her escape. ‘A trade-off is in order, I believe. Let Kara go and the paintings in the studio will survive. '

‘
What
paintings? ' Michael asked.

‘A simple enough solution, Lauren,' Marcus said, ignoring Michael. He had to keep focused. ‘What do you reckon? Have we a deal? '

‘Step down! ' she repeated.

‘No go. This isn't negotiable. '

She implored him. ‘Don't destroy a lifetime's work, in honour of my beloved brother. Don't destroy his memory. '

‘Just how much is that worth then? Just imagine, a lifetime's work gone in a puff of smoke, burnt to cinders. '

As if to highlight his threat, he brought the naked flame closer to the rag that was exposed at the neck of the bottle. ‘It just takes a connection, Lauren, as I found out with the discovery that Patrick Porter and you…are one and the same person. '

Michael couldn't speak, his brain amassing a thousand conflicting visions in one almighty revelation. All he knew, and wanted to believe in, was a deceit built upon a foundation of lies from the two sisters: a deception beyond reason. Here was a woman, whom he thought he loved, who sheltered behind the mask of others, to the extent of being convinced that her own true-self was, in fact, worthless.
A true curse.
Only through the identity of others could Lauren ultimately function. The trauma she experienced as a child was so painful, so destructive, that all she endured throughout her life was a shell-like existence. No more, no less,
except
until she transformed into her alter ego. Into the special “world” she inhabited as an inspirational character, one which she truly found a heart and soul with: her long lost brother.

The paintings of Patrick Porter were a magnificent testimony to his forgotten and wasted life, re-enacted through his sister, a woman who could not, would not, forget him.

Michael now truly understood the disorder in her mind, and the significance of the deception. It literally encompassed all those who entered into her “alternative” existence. Most notable was Julius, who Michael now believed, against his earlier misjudgement, was probably caught up in this obsession with the resurrection of Patrick Porter. He posed for the official portrait of the artist which Ronald sent to him. Fuelled by excessive drink and drugs (as Antonia had testified) Julius – as a young and impressionable man – was besotted by Lauren and her overpowering nature. And who wouldn't be?

His motive back then was money and lifestyle. Whilst he struggled with a decent career and income, she, through their deception, brought in massive hordes of cash. Caught in her web, he simply went along for the ride in the beginning. It was glamorous and intoxicating. It was only now, in later life, that he saw and understood the error of his ways. Julius had found salvation in his new family. With the passage of time, and away from this hellhole Michael swore he would endeavour to return Lauren to a semblance of normality, and help her find salvation too. He owed her that much, provided he was given the chance. It was becoming a very slim chance. This was a critically dangerous stand-off.

Terry had provided much more than mere information on the Porter family: in fact, he presented all the clues that ultimately would bring about their downfall. If only Michael had been more astute, instead of charging right in.
Little things…
Michael recalled his reaction to the data on Patrick Porter: born 1966, near Bunratty Castle. He now knew this to be the actual birth date and place of Lauren's own origins. Again, Patrick ‘died' in 1996, the year Julius and Antonia ran away. Lauren was so traumatised by them deserting her that she never painted again, and faked Patrick's death. For her, it was the end of everything she held dear.

In the following ten years she sustained a living by reluctantly selling one of her cherished “babies”. That's why, he guessed, she still displayed the twelve paintings of Antonia at the farm, instead of storing them away. They were too precious to part with, this testament to her dead brother and Antonia, a former lover. Yes, Antonia and she were once passionate lovers…perhaps the love never quite died for Lauren. Michael remembered all too clearly his last conversation with Antonia. When he asked if she had ever modelled for Patrick Porter, her answer was an emphatic “No”. She had told the truth, in a manner of speaking:
Because in her eyes she had posed for Lauren. Everything else she had told him was a lie, in the hope it would throw him off the trail. Michael had a sudden flashback, visualising once again her evocative pose for ‘
A' on green silk
. He now knew the sheer lust Antonia conveyed in that painting was undoubtedly directed toward her lover during those days…Lauren, the artist. Although she was in a love triangle, her devotion to Julius came later. Then the problems came.

Like at this very moment. But the history of these people could not be ignored. It shaped their destiny. Only today, of course, the artist was broke and needed to sell up everything she owned. Julius too was desperate for money to support his family. He came calling, exerting pressure on Lauren, seeking a divorce, which she would never agree to, and threatening to expose her sham. The very idea that Lauren could cash in substantially to his exclusion was unpalatable to him. He knew the game she was playing, and decided to wreck it at all costs. In order to seek retribution undetected, for fear of reprisals, he used an obvious outlet: Michael Strange, a man on the edge. A man who could be manipulated by greed. A greed which, he knew, would always overcome any deep reluctance Michael had to walk away and dump Lauren. It was never going to happen. They were
all
desperate people. However, Julius had the ultimate control over Michael, knowing the fascination he had for this beguiling woman. He too was imprisoned.

During this few moments of respite, Michael not only understood past lives and present treachery, he was now confronted with a huge dilemma, right here in the barn. He also understood his own weakening hold on making sure there was an escape route for Kara and Marcus. For the rest of them it mattered little.

Michael stared in disbelief, knowing the awful consequences, as Marcus suddenly brought his hands together. Oh, God.

Maggie reacted first. Sensing Michael had briefly relaxed, she seized the chance to lunge at him with the scissors. She caught him cleanly, stabbing him in the right shoulder.

Michael endured the full impact of the thrust, which knocked him clean off his feet. As he fell, his last clear recollection was pulling the trigger of the shotgun. The massive bang imploded into his ears, catching everybody off guard. The shell smashed into an overhead beam, propelling razor sharp splinters in every direction. In the confusion, Michael cracked his head as he landed heavily on the hard floor. Scarcely conscious, he involuntarily fired off the second barrel, this time directing the deadly shot across the floor. All hell broke loose.

 

***

 

In a split second, Lauren responded by lifting the blade of her knife to Kara's throat. In the same instance she lost control of Bruno, who pulled clear of his master and charged headlong at the figure on the steps. Immediately, the snarling dog was hit by a hail of gunshot, cutting him down in full flight. Losing concentration, Lauren watched aghast as her beloved dog was ripped apart in front of her eyes. As a result, she loosened her grip on her captive, allowing Kara the precious moment to fight back at long last.

 

***

 

Kara took her chance. Seeing the dog unleash itself in a frenzy, she had the presence of mind to fumble for the thin-bladed knife she had stuffed in her trouser pocket. In one swift movement, as the dog fell from the gunshot, she withdrew the knife and forcibly stuck it behind her blindly, piercing flesh and bone in her assailant's body.

 

***

 

Marcus watched in abject terror. From a position of control, suddenly complete mayhem erupted in front of him. Foolishly, he had lit the fuse in the bottle to show Lauren that he was the boss. Bad move. He watched Maggie lunged forward, bringing down Michael. Lauren threatened Kara with the knife, and the raging dog broke free and without warning leapt in his direction. In the ensuing melee, he panicked, tossing the flaming bottle into the studio behind him. Jars of white spirit ignited. He just had time to see the dog collapse at his feet, and Kara stagger away from Lauren, when a massive explosion and fireball erupted, flinging him sideways and down the stairs. Red hot flames and billowing acrid smoke quickly engulfed them all, reducing visibility to a few feet. In seconds, the intolerable heat began to melt everything in its rolling path. The ancient barn was becoming a tomb for them all.

Marcus felt himself being pulled to his feet by Kara. Dazed, he was aware of blood pouring from a gash on his face.

‘We've got to get out, Marcus,' she shouted, choking back deadly fumes. ‘Help me find Michael, before it's too late. '

Marcus cleared his head, and heard the tumultuous roar of the fire. All around, thick black suffocating smoke whirled about them, cutting off their air supply. He knew they had but seconds to survive. The flames were intense, and rapidly began to encircle them. Grabbing Kara by the hand, he pulled her forward and, with every last drop of his strength, ran with her toward the great door for their one chance of freedom. Their mad dash seemed to take an eternity. As they made daylight, he could hear the thudding sound of great ancient timbers falling from the ceiling, and the crackling of firewood. It was impossible for him to imagine anyone else getting out alive from the blaze.

Kara, bloodied and exhausted, screamed hysterically with fear: ‘What about Michael? We can't just leave him! '

Marcus swivelled, and saw the flames leaping fifteen feet into the air. ‘Run for the house! ' he demanded. ‘Call the fire service. I'll try one last time. '

She was reluctant to leave him, clinging to his arm.

‘Go, for fuck's sake! ' he shouted, forcing her away from him. ‘Every second counts…'

Shielding his face from the inferno, Marcus stared in disbelief. It was hopeless, he knew. Going back in was an act of suicide.

 

***

 

Moments earlier, before the torch exploded, Michael had stirred, and felt a searing pain in his shoulder. Worse still, Maggie had reached over, and was attempting to strangle him. She had the strength of a lion. Her rage was an awesome spectacle, and he had no way in which to fight back. She punched and clawed at him, throwing her weight upon him, rendering him defenceless. Her objective was to kill him, and she was succeeding. Fast.

For Michael, it was over. Through swollen eyes, he saw the end coming. Only the grace of God could save him. Then it happened. From somewhere, an explosion ripped through the building and knocked Maggie off balance, giving him an unexpected opportunity to fight her off. He whacked her clean on the nose, leaving her dazed. Michael raised himself just enough to find the shotgun by his side and, in one single movement, swung the butt so that it crashed into her spine, sending her sprawling across the earth. Surprisingly, this wasn't enough to render her unconscious. She groaned, and then set on him again. To his left, however, he was aware of something else, something far more terrifying than the madness of this woman…a huge roaring ball of spitting fire, a firestorm! And it was coming his way.

With all his might, he tried one more time to dislodge Maggie. She was now on top of him, clubbing him with her fists. The punches were relentless. Thankfully, though, just as they began, they stopped. Michael miraculously felt the weight of her lift from him again. Opening his eyes, he saw that Lauren had grabbed Maggie from behind and they were now entangled, fighting each other. With the thick smoke descending, and the flames licking as high as the great ceiling, Michael could barely trace their hazy outline, as the two fought with ferocious intent. Dragging his battered body toward the exit, Michael made one last desperate attempt to escape, but as he agonisingly inched forward, his route was blocked by falling white hot debris. The truth dawned on him. God had dealt him his last card. He was slowly choking to death, his skin aglow; his shredded clothing melting into flesh.

From high above, a heavy timber beam plummeted to the floor, showering sparks and red hot splinters like confetti. It was his dying moment, and in that moment, he saw someone go down, vanishing forever beneath the fallen structure, a stricken figure trapped and ablaze, screaming until silent. The remaining shadowy figure, which he did not recognise in the deepening fog of acrid smoke, turned, hesitated and fled to safety.