Dan of the Dead

  Copyright © 2018 by Wendy Meadows

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, without prior written permission.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

  Printed in the United States of America

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Thanks for reading

  Be the First to Know

  About the Author

  Also by Wendy Meadows

  Chapter One

  As summer waned and a patchwork of colors spread over the trees, their leaves succumbing to the chill that rolled off the Atlantic, Cassy too felt a kind of change. She wouldn’t call it melancholy, although that word had sprung to mind. It was perhaps better explained as nostalgia; not a negative emotion, but one that swept you up and carried you adrift in your memories. It was possible to become lost in that swirling, flickering tide of half recalled pages from history.

  “Did you hear what I said?” came Dot’s sharp voice somewhere close by. Cassy snapped out of her reverie and turned to the older woman. “I said, are you sure the train arrives at three? Because we’re going to be early.”

  “Better that we get there early, isn’t it?” asked Cassy. She rubbed her eyes with the palm of her hand.

  “Are you alright, hun?”

  “Bad night. Didn’t get much sleep, but I’ll be okay.”

  “Something on your mind?”

  “Well, of course. It’s been years since I’ve seen her, in the flesh, that is. We’ve talked online, so we keep in touch, I guess. But we’re older now and sometimes people just drift apart. Without Mom here, she has no reason to come back to Havenholm.” Cassy looked out through the rain-speckled window past the lazy rivulets that streaked across her vision to the blurred forest beyond. “Apart from what happened, obviously.”

  “She has you.”

  There was that. But was it enough? Slowly, Cassy looked back to Dot who was still turned toward her, scrutinizing her in that way she always did.

  “Dorothy?”

  “Yes, hun?”

  “Can you please look at the road when you’re driving.”

  The car swerved momentarily as Dot refocused on the road. Cassy was just happy that the road from Havenholm to the nearby Nottingham was straight. It cut a wedge through the surrounding forest that rose like dark protective walls on either side. Thankfully, traffic was minimal.

  Being on the small side for a town and more isolated than most, the infrastructure that serviced Cassy’s hometown was lacking, to say the least. Anyone wanting to get there had two options. The first was a long journey by car through unfamiliar roads, though sat-nav had made that experience a lot less objectionable. The only other solution besides chartering a helicopter and landing it outside of ‘Jacob’s Fruit & Veg Wholesale Warehouse’ was to arrive by train in the neighboring town and catch a lift the rest of the way.

  Driving down the isolated road in autumn led Cassy back through her memories to a place of wistfulness and indulgent yearning for her childhood.

  Of course, her sister Helena could easily have afforded a helicopter and was the kind of person wild enough to go through with abseiling from it, giving poor old Jacob the shock of his life when she picked up her groceries. A private hire car would have been well within her means too, but Cassy knew this was more about a long-founded rivalry between them. Making Cassy come out all this way was a kind of power play, yet another game played only so that her sister could assert her control.

  But that was what big sisters were for, right?

  “Isn’t she an attorney now?” Dot questioned, eyes unwavering from the road.

  “A lawyer. There’s a difference.”

  “There is?”

  “Yes.”

  Dot seemed satisfied and left it at that. After a moment of silence, underscored by the soft rain against the windshield and the ceaseless rumble of the wheels, Dot spoke again.

  “I lied earlier.”

  Cassy struggled to think back to a moment when the truthfulness of anything the woman had said could have been called into question. With a percussive rat-a-tat-tat, Dot drummed her fingers against the faintly glowing readout behind the steering wheel.

  “We’re going to be late.”

  Cassy looked at the clock. They were going to be late, or cut it very close at least.

  “That wasn’t a lie, Dot. That was just you being wrong, as usual.” Cassy chuckled. There was something about Dot’s blissful ignorance and ability to drift through life seemingly unaware of her surroundings that Cassy found oddly reassuring. It was a little condescending, but Cassy felt that if Dot could make it in the world, then there was hope for everyone.

  “Well, either way, I hope your sister doesn’t mind waiting around in the rain.”

  As if on cue by some divine stage-managed synchronicity, thunder rolled overhead and fat drops of rain burst against the windshield.

  “You know what, Dot,” said Cassy, relaxing back into her seat, “take your time. There’s no rush.”

  Chapter Two

  Nottingham Central Station platform 9 was under repair when Dot and Cassy arrived. The awning that would have protected them from the rain had been stripped bare, leaving a skeletal frame that was inadequate for the purpose. That might not have been a problem, as the waiting lounge was easily accessible and required only a short walk over the connecting walkway. But the train that Helena was due to arrive on had been delayed at the last possible moment to allow other trains to depart. And so the two of them waited dutifully on the platform, increasingly soaked in a clinging-to-your-body sort of way, unaware that they would be there for some time. Just as they decided to seek shelter, a distant klaxon signaled the train’s arrival. It crawled slowly, almost mockingly, toward them. With a hiss of pneumatic brakes, it came to a juddering halt. The doors were flung open and out spilled a group of unruly children and their bedraggled-looking mother. Having safely herded them onto the platform, the rest of the passengers were allowed to alight. The first Cassy saw of Helena was a huge Burberry travel case. It bounced down the steps out of the carriage followed by a shrill cry of ‘look out below!’.

  Revealed from behind it was a familiar face; a little older perhaps, but somehow even more beautiful than before. Cassy couldn’t help but feel several things at once, each vying for prominence. There was longing—the kind that you only feel when you’re reunited with the object of that longing. A kind of retro-active emotion that comes on all at once to make up for all the times you hadn’t thought about your older, more attractive sister. She realized then that she’d truly missed her sister, her midnight confidante, her rival, her closest friend and keenest enemy. Her idol.

  Only she hadn’t thought about her since the call last Tuesday when she’d had to relay the terrible news.

  “Ca-ssandra!” Helena flung her arms out wide for a hug, but then attended to the case as it began to topple over.

  Then Cassy remembered all the pain that came with Helena. The arguments, the sheer incompatibility of two people thrust together under no choice of their own and forced to co-habit. There had been a fracture at some point and the two of t
hem had gone their separate ways. But why was she being coy? Cassy knew exactly why Helena had left and what had caused that little unit of a family to disperse.

  “Hell-” said Cassy, leaning forward to embrace her. ‘Hell’ had always been Cassy’s name for her sister, and she had always thought of it spelled like the fiery place down below, though that was a thought that had remained private.

  The skies had cleared, allowing a little sunshine in, and briefly the rain stopped. But Cassy remained dripping wet and Helena backed away awkwardly so as to not be soaked herself.

  “Oh, come here!” commanded Cassy. Reluctantly at first, but then giving in completely, Helena hugged her little sister fully. She pulled back and wiped herself down.

  “You’re looking good, sis,” said Helena.

  “You, too.” Cassy looked the lawyer who lived alone in New York up and down. She admired the long, perfectly-tailored coat, the perfect hair—severe fringe, dyed black—and the conservative jewelry. “You know, for a woman of your age.”

  “You’ll always have that over me,” said Helena. She lifted her luggage onto its wheels. “Although, I say that I’m younger than you, just so you know.” She walked past Dot without giving her a glance and continued into the car lot as if instinctively knowing where Cassy was parked.

  Chapter Three

  On the drive back, Helena insisted that she sit in the front passenger seat, so Cassy was relegated to the back and made to feel even more like the kid sister. The forty-something *cough* year-old kid sister.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you were with Cassy or I would have introduced myself,” Helena told Dot. Dot didn’t know how to handle Helena and kept quiet for most of the journey. It was as if she was in a state of shock. It was a conundrum to Cassy too, just how the two of them were siblings. It hadn’t always been that way. At one point, they’d been inseparable. Many summers had been spent down by the lake digging in the sand, or when they were older, swimming to the other shore, all under the watchful eye of their mother. Later it had all been about boys, Cassy mostly pretending, or taking cue from Helena’s infatuations.

  “I feel so bad, Cass.”

  Cassy wasn’t going to rise to Helena’s bait. She wanted to be told that she was totally perfect and shouldn’t feel bad about anything she did. Cassy said nothing.

  “I feel so bad that I haven’t been back before now. Coming here because of Stuart seems like such a downer. I should try harder.” Cassy nodded in agreement, but said nothing. “It’s not like you’ve visited me though, is it,” added Helena. “It would do you some good to get out of Havenholm once in a while, sis.”

  “I only moved back here three years ago Hell. It’s not like I’m trapped. Havenholm’s where I live because I like it here. Besides, I’ve tried to meet up with you, but you’re just so busy all the time.”

  Helen considered the point. “This is true. I guess you do have an excuse.”

  Not wanting to engage in a game of petty one-upmanship, Cassy fell back into the rear seat and rolled her eyes. In the rear-view mirror she saw Dot doing the same, eyes wandering from the road.

  The rain had started again and drummed against the metal roof like a military tattoo. The light of Havenholm was visible not too far away and it gave Cassy a sense of security. She would be home soon.

  “I used to date him, briefly,” said Helena after a peaceful silence.

  This was news to Cassandra, who came back to the divide between the two chairs, eager to know more.

  “I never knew that, you sly fox. When?” The more she thought about it the more it seemed untrue. Cassy didn’t recall anything of the sort.

  “He was a good-looking kid,” mused Helena, “rich too, not that I was bothered about that.” It was such a transparent lie. If there was one thing that interested Cassandra’s big sister, it was other people’s money.

  “Not a lot of good that did him though, did it?” Dot blurted out suddenly, “His funeral’s tomorrow and you’d have thought with all that family money they would have gone for something a bit more fancy than the Oak Hill Church. It’s true what they say, ‘if you’re rich, you’re cheap.’”

  Quick as a whip, Helena spun back to look at her sister and mouthed ‘who says that?’ in an exaggerated fashion, her shoulders rising to emphasize the point. They both then collapsed laughing, much to Dot’s confusion.

  Chapter Four

  “It’s very—,” Helena searched for the right word as she peered over the wicker baskets that contained an assortment of pungent spices; cinnamon, thyme, vanilla, cured orange zest. She then stepped back, turning to take the entirety of the small corner shop in to her view. “It’s very ‘niche,’ isn’t it?”

  With her customary lack of subtlety, Dot leaned over to Patty who was pricing up some new additions to the store; locally produced potpourri. “What’s ‘neesh’?” said Dot in a loud stage whisper.

  The younger woman looked to Helena, then without taking her eyes off her, replied to Dot. “It means she thinks the spicery is kinda pointless.” Patty huffed loud enough to make her displeasure known to all. Cassandra’s sister ignored Patty and continued her inspection.

  “Is that what neesh means?” She returned to her idle dusting, satisfied while probing between shelves with a brightly multicolored instrument that looked like a feathered wand.

  “It’s a lot more popular than you might think, Hell,” said Cassy, determined not to become annoyed at her sister. She was actually delighted to see her again after all these years and wasn’t about to let anything sour their reunion…no matter how hard Helena tried.

  “No doubt, no doubt,” said Helena who had picked up a hemp bag and plunged her nose, only to retract sharply as the scent of cloves hit her. “You’d make a killing back home.”

  This is back home, Hell. “Is that so? Well, I’m not all about the money,” said Cassy.

  “I like it, though.” Cassy couldn’t be sure if her sister was being genuine or not, but she gave her the benefit of the doubt. “Does it smell like this in your apartment, too?”

  For reasons that Cassy was beginning to regret, she had convinced her sister to stay with her in the small place she called home located above the shop. The original plan had been for Helena to get a room at The Lodge, or even a small place in town. But over several emails Cassy had managed to coax Helena into staying with her. It would be like old times—the very old times—just the two of them sharing the same room.

  “If you don’t like the smell,” said Cassy, breathing in the intoxicating blend of dried flowers, curious spices and any number of curious herbs, “then you’re going to have a problem.”

  Helena seemed to consider the notion a moment then nodded, seemingly happy with the situation.

  “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow,” she said, “but I’m looking forward to seeing all the old faces.” She brightened suddenly. “Is Cat going to be there?”

  “Cat and Dan McCoy,” said Cassy, “Elliot, Maybe.”

  Helena cooed wistfully at each successive name as memories flooded back. “You really think Maybe’s going to be there?” she asked.

  “Did I hear that right?” came a voice from the other side of the shop, hidden behind a row of shelves, and most certainly belonging to Dot. “You have a friend called ‘Maybe’?”

  “Maybe she’s our friend, maybe she isn’t. One thing’s for sure, though, that’s her name,” said Helena, which prompted Cassy to laugh. It was all part of some old joke shared between them.

  “Didn’t she go out with Stuart, too?” asked Cassy. Now that they were back at the Spicery, the center of her world, Cassy felt a lot more comfortable. Those feelings she’d first had when Hell had shown up had now dissipated to be replaced with a soothing, calm sensation. Maybe it was the lavender, which she’d placed by the cash register. It always had a calming effect on her.

  “Like I said, he was loaded.” Helena paused. “Sorry, it’s weird talking about him like this, in the past tense. It’
s just that I haven’t seen him for so long, it’s like he never grew up for me. He’ll always be the kid with blond curls and baggy jeans…”

  “A backwards cap and a gold watch. I always remember he had a gold watch.”

  “Yeah, what was that about? What kid needs to know the time so badly that they have a gold watch?” For a moment, both of them were caught in reverie as they exchanged memories of their youth and their tight-knit group of friends. It had only been three summers that the whole gang had spent together, but at the time, it had seemed like forever. Endless days at the lake, the girls in their bathing suits paddling at the edge, while the boys looked on. It was always Stuart who decided it was time to swim to the other side. In an effort to impress the sisters as well as Maybe and Cat, the boys would race to the other side. More often than not, it was Stuart who won.

  Then Cassy remembered how cold the water was and how one summer after having nearly caught pneumonia, she vowed never to go near the lake ever again. It was a promise she’d upheld.

  “Excuse me? Sorry to interrupt, but can I make a purchase?”

  Hurriedly, Cassy signaled to Patty, who trod her way over, reluctantly.

  “Can I help you?” she asked with a beaming smile that was only partially forced. She cast an eye to Cassy who returned a look that said ‘what? I’m the boss and I can do what I want and if I want to slack off and talk to my sister—who, may I remind you, I haven’t seen in years—then that’s up to me now, isn’t it?’ It was a complex look.

  “I’d like to buy, umm,” the man faltered and looked around the store, “Do you by any chance have any spices? I’ve been looking all over town, but every place I go, not a thing. So please tell me that you sell spices?”