Half Blood (25 page)

‘
Dinner is ready Master Jerry,’ Eric said from the doorway.

He turned. ‘Thank you,’ he replied. Just as Eric turned to leave, Jerry stopped him again. ‘Eric, have you seen my mother?’

‘
She’s already in the dining room.’

‘
Thank you Eric.’

Indi and Jerry went into the dining room, finding Barb sitting at the head of the table, another crystal glass of Remy Martin in her hand. When she saw Indi, she downed the remaining warm, brown liquid before getting up for another. Indi sat down opposite Jerry, her back to the kitchen door.

A noise made Jerry look up. When he thought about it later, he didn’t know why he had looked. The noise was a benign house noise, but when he raised his head, looking over Indi’s shoulder, he saw his mother walking towards them. In her hand was the carving knife from the kitchen. He could see her plan in her cold, midnight-blue eyes. She meant to kill Indi. Jerry didn’t even have time to draw breath to warn Indi when the blade came to her flesh.

Indi’s scream would forever be seared into his memory. Barb’s first blow landed in between Indi’s shoulder blades. His mother jerked the knife down and out before trying once more. With gritted teeth, Indi turned around, ready to face the next attack. She dodged each of Barb’s wild swings until the knife eventually became buried in the tabletop. Indi took the opening and slapped Barb across the face, sending her to the ground.

Jerry pushed out of his chair, rushing around to Indi. Her back was red with blood, her shirt sticking to her skin, refusing to let go. Shucking his suit jacket, Jerry pulled off his dress shirt and pressed it to the wound. ‘You’re going to be okay, okay? … Indi?’ he breathed. Adrenaline was dumped into his bloodstream, helping him focus on helping her. That was all that mattered to him right now. He leaned her forward, applying more pressure and praying that the bleeding was going to stop soon.

‘
How bad is it?’ Indi asked, her face already growing pale. Jerry lifted up the material to check. The stab wound was two inches wide and God knew how many inches deep. Her lungs or heart or spine could be injured, and he had no way to tell.

‘
Can you feel your arms and your legs … Indi?’ he added frantically. She seemed to be coming in and out of consciousness. ‘Indi!’

‘
What?’ she asked grumpily.

‘
Okay, okay.’ Jerry took a deep breath and released it. ‘You’re going to be okay.’

Indi swallowed down hard. ‘Don’t lie to me, Jer,’ she replied in a breathy voice.

He felt the first tears prick his eyes. ‘I’m not. You’re going to be fine. You see.’ He pressed a little harder against the profusely bleeding wound, hoping that what he’d told her was right. Jerry looked down at his mother. She was still out cold, a little blood trickling from her nose. He turned back to Indi.

‘
Jer? I don’t feel so good,’ Indi groaned, her eyes rolling back in her head.

‘
Indi?!’ He felt so helpless. ‘Indi?!’ Desperation turned him towards the kitchen. ‘Eric! Eric?! Call an ambulance!’

When he didn’t hear anything in response, he risked leaving Indi for a moment. Bursting through the kitchen door, he searched for help, but the kitchen was completely void of life. It was almost as if Barb had told them all to
––

Jerry turned and ran back into the dining room to find his mother staggering to her feet, going for the knife again.

‘
Mother! No!’

Barb, wiping the blood from her nose, ignored Jerry and lunged for Indi’s slumped form. Jerry ran as fast as he could, throwing himself between his mother and the one girl he was determined to save. Barb was so focussed on revenge that she didn’t realise what she was doing. Jerry had put up his arms to protect his face and neck as the frenzied attack continued, only stopping when his mother’s temporary insanity wore off. Looking down at her blood-flecked hands then back at her son, she started to shake; shock rocking her body so severely that the knife dropped from her fingers and to the flagstone floor.

Jerry had had to have stitches to close the wounds on his forearms. When Indi went in though, Jerry thought she’d have to have surgery to close up the stab wound. But when the doctor saw her, he’d cleaned the wounds and thought she’d only need stitches. He couldn’t believe it. He’d seen the knife go in. He’d seen the giant, gaping wound between her shoulder blades. He’d stared at the pool of blood on the rug as the paramedic team secured her to a gurney and wheeled her to the ambulance.

Jerry refocussed on the present. Indi was looking at him, worry plain on her face. He managed a smile before sitting down––not in her usual place––but one over. The memories of that night still haunted her. When everyone was seated, Eric came around placing a linen napkin into their laps with an expert flick of his wrist. As he approached Indi though, his cool, grey eyes met hers and an unspoken conversation took place. A second later, Eric nodded and Indi pulled her napkin down into her own lap.

‘So, Jerry,’ his mother purred, ‘how is the café going?’

‘Fine thank you mother,’ he replied cautiously, picking nervously at the edge of the gold placemat under his Wedgewood plate.

‘I had a peek through the window while I was waiting for you. It looked … quaint. Perhaps you should redecorate … you know, make it a bit more modern.’

Indi tensed beside him. The tone of his mother’s voice was always like nails down a chalkboard for her. Barb’s attention was on Indi, her lip curling up a little at her progress.

Jerry cleared his throat. ‘I can’t afford to redecorate.’ He took a drink, placing it back onto the table and trying not to let his mother see how shaky his hand was.

His breathing hitched in his throat. He couldn’t stop it happening. ‘I am.’ His voice was little more than the breath of a whisper. It cost him to say it too. His mother’s lip curled up into a fierce grin.

‘Well, as you know, Mark’s moved on already.’ She paused long enough to give him a chance to respond, but he couldn’t make his mouth and voice work together. ‘It wasn’t ever going to work out between you two, you know? You run a vulgar little café for God’s sake. Did you
really
think it would be a success? Did you
really
think he could love you for that?’

‘I …’ Jerry began, but the words got stuck, lodged at the back of his throat. He was afraid that he’d choke on them.

Barb gave him that fierce grin again, touching the sides of her mouth with her napkin. He crushed Indi’s hand to his, trying to get as much of her skin on his. His mother hadn’t changed. She was just as bitter and as twisted as before. He was crazy to think that she would have changed; crazy to think that after the accident she
wanted
him back in her life.

Indi was staring at him, asking him wordlessly why in the hell he was just sitting there and taking the abuse. So, why was he?

He worked down the lump in his throat before speaking in a harsh whisper. ‘Is this why you asked me here, to taunt me about Mark?’

Before Indi could respond, Jerry said, ‘If you wanted to apologise for what you did to me—to us—then all you had to do was just that. Don’t invite us around and use derision as a way of saying you’re sorry.’ His mother looked offended, but he didn’t buy it.

‘Jerry, I would
never
do such a thing to you. I am your mother, and yes I may have made some mistakes six months ago, but being in that accident really put everything in perspective for me. You are all that I have left now that your … father … is in prison. I’m sorry for attacking you, for—’

‘You attacked Indi too. You stabbed her in the back,’ Jerry hissed.

‘She stabbed me in the back first!’ Her voice rose only a little, but that was enough of an indicator for Jerry.

Jerry stared hard at his mother. And for the first time in his life, he saw her. He actually saw her. The picture he had had in his head as he was growing up was perfect, but now he saw her for what she really was: warped and disfigured. She was like an oil painting where the colours bled and ran until the face that had been painted was no more than a mass of twisted features; a cruel mouth, a hooked nose with cold and hostile eyes all gnarled and unrecognisable.

‘Indi?’ he asked, looking over at his sister.

‘Yeah?’ she asked without taking her eyes off Barb. They were glowing with rage, but she had stayed quiet so that he could do whatever he had to do.

‘We’re leaving.’

‘Good. Great. Let’s get the
fuck
out of here. This room is making my skin crawl.’

‘Sit down Jerry,’ she said seriously. Jerry sat down slowly, and when he was settled his mother said, ‘Your father and I are getting a divorce.’

‘You’re
what
?’

‘Barb, honey?’ a man’s voice suddenly called from the front hall; Jerry’s hand seized around Indi’s. He felt as if he was squeezing so that he was cutting off the circulation, but Indi didn’t flinch or try to take her hand back. If anything, she held on a little tighter. Desperation clawed at Jerry’s chest. He couldn’t see him so soon after finding out. He just couldn’t.

‘In here, darling,’ Barb called happily.

Dressed in a black Armani suit, Mark strode into the room with confidence, wrapping his arm around Barb’s waist and pulling her close to the front of his body. Their kiss was passionate, and Jerry had to close his eyes. It was only Indi’s warm hand in his that stopped him from running from the room.

‘Have you told them?’ Mark asked.

‘Not yet.’

‘Why is he here?’ Jerry asked through gritted teeth. Surely his mother knew how raw the wounds left from Mark were. Sometimes he felt as if he couldn’t leave his apartment he hurt so much.

‘I asked him around to show you what you were missing out on.’

‘I
knew
it,’ Indi said.

At the same time Jerry asked, ‘You did this on purpose?’ Barb nodded. ‘Why would you do that to me?’

‘Everything’s not about
you
, you know,’ she snapped. ‘I did it to hurt her.’ She lifted her chin in Indi’s direction, her cold eyes fixing on her target with an almost tangible weight.

*

Indi’s free hand curled into a fist under the table. She’d been staying quiet, letting Jerry handle his mother since they’d arrived here, but she had just taken it one step too far. She couldn’t hold her tongue any longer; she wouldn’t.

‘How could you do this to Jerry, your
son
? He did
nothing
to deserve this.’

‘No. He didn’t. But you did. You don’t understand anything, do you?’ Barb asked in a tone as cold as the blood that pumped through her veins.

‘Mother? What are you talking about?’ Jerry asked.

Pointing a French-tipped fingernail at Indi, she barked, ‘You turned my only son against his father and I. And then you convinced him to lie in a court of law for you.’

‘He didn’t lie,’ Indi argued. ‘He told the truth. Your husband raped me. He
raped
me.’

‘Why should I believe you? You’re just a sexually dysfunctional girl who seduced my husband and made up lies about him. You probably just wanted to fall pregnant with his child to lay claim to
even more
of his money. Wasn’t the one hundred thousand he left to you in Jerry’s bank account enough?’ She turned to her son; the stunned expression plain on his face. ‘Oh yes, Jerry. I know about that money. I know that he put hush money into your account for her.’ Barb’s wild eyes swung back to Indi. ‘But you didn’t stop there though, did you Indi? Did you?’ she screamed. ‘You wanted even more from me. You wanted to take my son away from me too.’

‘I’m pretty sure you took care of that yourself Barb,’ Indi snarled. ‘Or weren’t the twenty-five stitches enough of an incentive for him to get the hell out of your house?’

Barb’s face darkened. ‘You little bitch! I should have killed you when I had the chance!’

‘You can believe the truth or the lie you’ve created in your head Barb,’ Indi’s words crawled with anger. ‘But know this: your husband is a sexually sadistic lech, and I’m glad he’s in prison getting a taste of what it’s like.’

Jerry stood up and wrapped his arms around Indi. ‘Let’s go. I made a mistake in coming here. She just wanted to hurt you, not patch things up. Revenge is all she’s interested in.’

Indi stood, taking Jerry’s hand in hers, and let him lead her out of that haunted room and into the foyer.

‘She did it all to hurt you Indi,’ Jerry breathed once they were both strapped into the Porsche. ‘She hurt me to get to you. What kind of woman would do that?’