Lynda Plante - The Talisman

Harriet was a child’s dream of an aunt. She was the first to suggest a game, and not boring cardboard-box games but clever charades, which she usually won. She was as noisy and boisterous as the children, and even Edward joined in. With a sheet over his head, he mimed the exceptionally difficult charade Harriet had dreamed up for him, ‘A Sheik in a Pickle’.

‘Would you be Valentino, sah?’

‘Close, very close.’

‘Oi! No speaking, that’s cheating you lose a point,’ bellowed Harriet, jumping up and down. To Evelyn’s delight, when his aunt and uncle argued it was nothing like the bitter, controlled, back-stabbing ‘disagreements’ that went on in his own house. When Aunt Harriet shouted at Uncle Edward, he yelled back that he wouldn’t lose a point as he didn’t give anything away. Anyway, he was damned sure there was no such film. Harriet insisted, all the time nudging and winking at her partner, Evelyn. And Jinks, usually so timid, especially when she heard her parents arguing, now had tears streaming down her face, fogging up her glasses as she rolled on the floor, laughing.

‘You see, look at your partner, she’s collapsed! Out! Time’s up! We won that round, Evelyn, that gives us a four-point lead.’

Jinks turned on her mother, wagging her finger. ‘Mummy, you are cheating.’

‘That’s right, Jinks, you tell her... Cheat!’

They were all bickering and laughing so much that they didn’t hear the doorbell, or Alex’s strained voice as he asked if they had heard from his son. When he strode in, the room went silent, and everyone turned to look at him as he stood in the doorway, red-faced with fury.

‘I think you’ve both acted very irresponsibly — do you realize I’ve had the police out looking for him? I have been absolutely frantic, couldn’t you at least have had the decency to call me and tell me he was with you?’

‘I came by myself on my bike,’ piped up Evelyn, and got such a glare from Alex he dodged to hide behind Harriet. Edward tried to explain, but Alex asked that the children leave the room.

The two of them listened outside the door, and Evelyn pulled a face. Nothing Harriet or Edward said could calm the irate Alex. He insisted on Evelyn getting his coat and his bloody bike and leaving with him immediately.

Harriet left the two men arguing, giving the children a glum look. She whispered that it looked like Evelyn wouldn’t be staying for Christmas after all, and cheered them up by saying that if they were very quick they could open one of their gifts there and then. She hurried them to the tree and, of course, they went for the biggest boxes and began to rip off the paper. Harriet hurried upstairs and got Evelyn’s coat, and the few things he had brought in his saddlebag. As she came back down the stairs, she saw the children, sitting in a mound of wrapping paper, gleefully opening more presents.

‘Oi, just one more each, then Evelyn can take the rest home with him. I’ll bring a big brown bag.’

Jinks looked at her huge doll, almost life-size, and then put it back in its box. Evelyn couldn’t believe his eyes — a police car with flashing lights and a siren that screamed.

Edward had apologized, but now he was getting angry at Alex’s attitude. He snapped that perhaps Barbara should have made sure she knew where her son was staying for Christmas.

‘He lied to her, he lied to us both. He told us he was staying with a schoolfriend, we had no idea he wasn’t with them until we called... So, there’s blame on both sides. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll take him home.’

When they went out into the hall, there was no sign of the children. Alex called, and Harriet came downstairs with a suitcase for Evelyn’s presents. She suggested they look in the dining room, they often hid in there. Edward approached the closed doors.

‘I’ll get him... Evelyn? Evelyn...?’

Jinks followed her mother downstairs, very subdued. Her doll was already lying in the cot she had been given for her birthday. She looked tearfully at her mother, and Harriet gave a little shrug.

‘He’ll come and see us again... Alex? He can come again, can’t he?’

Alex was standing at the dining-room doors, and Harriet went to his side. From where they stood they could both see clearly into the dimly lit room. Evelyn was sitting at the table with his head in his hands, crying. Edward was leaning over him, stroking his hair. They couldn’t hear what he was saying, but what they saw stopped them both dead. Alex felt as though he had been punched, and his face drained of colour. In the candlelight, Edward and Evelyn were the image of Freedom Stubbs — but they were also the image of each other. Alex and Harriet both knew in a moment that they were looking at father and son.

It was so clear to them now, the eyes, the thick black hair, the dark complexion. Harriet turned abruptly and went up the stairs, saying to Jinks it was bath time but, like Alex, her face was as white as a sheet.

Edward was sitting by the fire, reading. It was after nine, and he wondered where Harriet had got to. The big oak door inched open and Jinks stood there in her nightdress.

‘Daddy’s a bit tired for a story tonight, ask your mother... Where is she, upstairs?’

Jinks was shaking, and her face crumpled as she sobbed out, ‘Mummy... Mummy’s strange, she looks funny...’

Edward picked his daughter up and carried her upstairs, calling for Dewint as he went. He came bustling out of the kitchen, wiping his hands. ‘Dinner will be a fraction late, sah, this newfangled Aga has me all over the place...’

‘Harry? Harry...? Is she in her studio, Jinks? Where’s Mummy?’

Jinks clung tight to her father’s neck, her eyes wide. She seemed terrified, and as they approached her bedroom she screamed and struggled to be put down. Dewint, right behind them, took the child, reassuring her that everything was all right. But it was in the air, it was almost tangible — something was wrong, terribly wrong. Edward reached the doorway and looked in, then whispered, ‘Oh, Jesus Christ... take her downstairs, and get the doctor, fast.’

Harriet was sitting on her daughter’s bed, her blouse open, the beautiful new doll cradled at her breast. She was rigid, her eyes crazy. Edward closed the door, but she appeared not to notice he was in the room, not until he was close. Then she looked at him. Her voice was quite calm — that was what made it so chilling, her calmness, her apparent normality. ‘I can’t wake him, his hands are cold, he won’t take his feed.’

Edward and Dewint both tried unsuccessfully to take the doll away. She became abusive, and screamed at them both.

The ambulance and the doctor arrived within moments of each other. It took two attendants and the doctor to get her out of the room — they cajoled her, and not until she was sedated did she relinquish the doll. She had begun repeating, over and over, ‘He’s your son, he’s your son...’

Edward walked into his bedroom. His daughter lay, swamped in the huge bed, clinging to her teddy bear. Her whole body was trembling, and she turned frightened eyes to him. He undressed slowly. It had been a long and terrible night, and one he knew he could never repeat, never risk being part of again. On the way back from the hospital he had made up his mind — this was the end. He couldn’t take any more, and with Jinks to think about he decided the risk was too great. He would divorce Harriet.

Jinks watched her father walk into the bathroom. Her teeth chattered and she was cold and fearful. He switched the light off as he came out. She was scared of the dark, she always had been, but she was even more frightened to say anything. The big bed dipped as he got in beside her.

‘You awake, little one?’