Katharine Corr - The Witch’s Tears

‘Look, I appreciate your help, but this really isn’t any of your concern. I need to find out who did this to my brother. And when I do I’m going to bloody kill them. I’m going to – to—’ The ceiling lights flared brighter as pain lanced from her fingertips up the length of her arms. The phone slipped from her hands on to the rug. ‘Damn it!’

The stranger was watching her, eyebrows raised.

‘Sorry. I’m going to get some brandy.’ Racing into the kitchen, Merry grabbed a cushion off the sofa and squeezed it as hard as she could between her hands.

I have to get a grip. I have to take care of Leo. Everything else can wait.

Gradually, the ache in her fingers faded. But when she let go of the cushion it was covered in burn marks: five on each side. Merry stuffed it into one of the kitchen cupboards, found the brandy and poured some into a glass. She returned to the living room just in time to hear Leo groan.

‘Oh, Leo …’ Thrusting the glass into the hands of the stranger she leant over her brother, pushing his matted blond hair back from his forehead, blinking away tears as she studied the mess that had been made of his face. ‘I can’t believe someone would do this to you.’ Leo looked up at her with his one good eye, questioning. Merry understood what he meant: he wanted her to heal him. ‘I’ll try my best, OK? But it’s not my strong point.’ She glanced at the stranger, feeling some explanation was due. ‘I, er … I did a first-aid course recently.’

The stranger nodded his acknowledgement and held up the brandy glass.

‘Is he to drink this?’

‘Yes. Please.’

‘OK. I’m Ronan, by the way.’

‘Merry. Back in a sec.’

In the kitchen, she pulled the old first-aid kit out from under the sink. It had bandages and plasters in it, not much else. But at least it would provide camouflage for the real medical supplies. In the cupboard above the fridge Mum kept various potions and salves made by Gran. One in case of poisoning, one for burns (the same lotion Merry had managed to explode the other day), one for cuts. Merry grabbed the latter – and a small glass vial of green liquid, labelled ‘For Rest’ – and put them into the first-aid kit. Then she found a clean cloth, ran some hot water into a bowl and carried the whole lot back into the living room.

Ronan was sitting on the edge of the sofa, watching Leo. He stood up as Merry came into the room.

‘He drank a little. What else can I do? Or would you rather I just got out of your way?’

Merry hesitated. It was inconvenient having a complete stranger in their house, now of all times. But, on the other hand, if he had information about who had done this to her brother …

‘Maybe you could make some tea?’ Merry nodded her head towards the hall. ‘The kitchen’s that way.’ She waited until Ronan had left before turning back to Leo.

She started by washing the blood off his face and hands, trying to be gentle. But some of the wounds were still oozing. Leo flinched as she touched him, and Merry had to bite her lip to stop the tears that threatened to blind her vision. As well as a black eye, Leo’s mouth and nose had been bleeding, and he had ugly grazes across one cheekbone and over his knuckles. Removing the bloodstained shirt revealed bruises already discolouring his abdomen and ribs. She spread some of Gran’s lotion on the cuts.

‘That stings,’ Leo murmured.

‘Sorry. It’ll wear off soon.’

On top of each blob of lotion she taped a gauze pad; the grazes would heal and fade as the ointment sank into them, but she couldn’t let Ronan see that happening. Then she turned her attention to Leo’s black eye.

It made her stomach churn. The skin had been battered into a pulpy, discoloured mess, while the tiny slit of eyeball still visible was red with blood. There was a spell to deal with this kind of injury, but she’d never managed to get it to work properly. Gritting her teeth, she began to dab the lotion over the damaged skin. Leo moaned with pain and knocked her hand away.

Merry frowned, peering at his eye. Where she’d applied the lotion, the skin was reforming – but not in the right way. It was all puckered and lumpy. She swore and put the lid back on.

‘This stuff isn’t going to work on your eye, so you’ll have to visit Gran tomorrow. Understand? You can’t leave that untreated. And if Mum sees you like this, she’ll have a fit.’ She dabbed at a bloodstain on the sofa with the damp cloth. ‘Several fits, probably.’

Leo nodded and gave her a wobbly smile. Merry swallowed the anguish in her throat and forced herself to smile back. At least she could help him get some sleep.

‘Open your mouth.’ She let three drops of the green liquid fall on to his tongue, repacked everything into the first-aid box, then leant over him again, studying her handiwork. Leo’s good eye was still open, but he was gazing into the distance.

‘Hey, big brother.’ Merry ruffled his hair a little. ‘Do you know who did this to you?’

Leo focused on her, his face flushing. Then he shook his head and turned away.

Merry knew he was lying. Just like she’d known with Gran, earlier.

‘I promise I won’t … do anything. Please tell me.’

‘Not now.’ He closed his good eye. ‘Tired.’

Ronan walked back into the sitting room carrying a tray.

‘Sorry, I needed to clean myself up. Bloody handprints all over the teapot might be a bit … off-putting. And then I burnt myself on the kettle.’ He held up one hand, and Merry could see his fingertips were slightly red. ‘But don’t worry, I found ice cubes.’

‘Oh. Right.’ She spread a blanket over Leo, grateful to see he was already drifting off to sleep.

Ronan set the tray down on the coffee table and began to pour the tea.

‘How is he?’

‘Asleep, I think.’ Leo was breathing more evenly now. She picked up a mug of tea. ‘So, did you see who it was? Can you describe them? He said he didn’t know them, but—’

‘Hold on …’ Ronan pulled a phone out of his jeans pocket. Merry recognised it as Leo’s, though the screen had a crack across it. ‘It was lying next to him. I took a photo as they were running away, in case he wanted to call the police.’ Merry thought for a moment, then entered the day and month of Dan’s birthday to unlock the phone. The fact that it worked made her want to cry. She went to Leo’s photos and looked at the most recent image. It was hard to tell – the shot was blurry – but she was pretty certain she recognised one of the men. Simon.

That emotionally stunted, homophobic bastard. I don’t care what I promised Leo. He’s not going to get away with this. I won’t let him.

She scowled at the photo, trying to identify the second figure. One way or another, she was going to find out who it was. And then she was going to make both of them pay. Leo had been Simon’s friend since they were small: how could he, of all people, do this to her brother? It made her want to be sick, to scream, to smash things—

Fault lines shot across the phone’s screen, and as it crazed and fractured there was the sound of shattering glass. The lamp on the side table next to her went out.

Merry froze, glancing at Ronan; she’d almost forgotten he was there. ‘Guess the bulb blew. I’ll fix it later.’ She slid Leo’s phone face down on to the side table, trying to breath slowly, hoping their visitor didn’t notice her shaking hands or the cracked brandy glass that was now leaking amber liquid. ‘Um, Leo was lucky you came along. God knows what they’d have done otherwise.’

‘It was nothing, honestly.’

‘No, it wasn’t. Lots of people would have been too scared to get involved.’

Ronan shrugged. ‘I can take care of myself.’ From the breadth of his shoulders and the well-defined muscles in his arms, Merry could see that was probably true. His build reminded her of Jack; he had that same look of being physically self-assured, capable. For a moment, she let herself imagine it was Jack sitting opposite her.