Page 34 of The Quarterlands (Dark Water #4)

Chapter Ten

Alex

Slowly, Alex’s body healed. His mind was another matter.

After several weeks of sunshine, rest, and good food, he knew for certain now that his sense of malaise was more mental than physical.

It was as if his body was in control, and his mind was simply coming along for the ride.

He didn’t choose to eat or wash or swim, he just did it.

Tyler might have given him back his song and his yoga, but he couldn’t see the point of them anymore.

He’d given up. He knew he should apologise to Solange for failing her, and to Ted for not being as strong as he’d believed him to be, but he didn’t have the strength to even feel bad about it.

He’d failed. He’d never bring Tyler to justice now, and he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything.

He had no screen, no holopad, and no access to the internet, so he was cut off from the outside world in every way.

However, there were hundreds of books in the library.

Normally, he’d have relished reading them, but now, he couldn’t concentrate for more than a few sentences before his brain asked to rest. His mind was filled constantly with a fuzzy sound, perpetual white noise that was worse when he was tired.

One day, Jabir brought in a padded table and set it up in the courtyard. He had Alex lie on it, and his strong hands made short work of the knots and aches in Alex’s shoulders and legs.

“Mr Alexander, this is a lonely life for you, so I was wondering if you would like to come to dinner at our house?” he asked as he worked.

“Maura is a great cook, and the children are always asking about you. Razin has a kitten. He has named him Alexander after you. He’s a shy boy, but he’s curious about you.

He sees you sitting watching him swim but never speaking.

I thought maybe you would enjoy our company? ”

Alex was glad he was face down, so that Jabir couldn’t see the tears in his eyes.

His heart longed for the company of decent, honest people.

He wanted to caress his namesake kitten and answer all Razin’s innocent questions about the stranger who sat so silently, watching while he swam.

He wanted to eat Maura’s delicious food, to make conversation and feel normal again… but he couldn’t do any of those things.

“I would love to,” he said softly. “But I don’t think Mr Tyler would like it.”

Jabir’s fingers dug deeper into his shoulders, finding a sore spot and gently teasing it out. “He instructed me to take care of you. I am sure an invitation to dinner falls into that category.”

“You would think so.” He heard Gideon lecturing him. “You can’t have friends, Alex. You must never let anyone get close.”

Of course not. He heard the loud crack of Tyler’s hand on Solange’s jaw, saw her falling backwards. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to this kind man and his lovely family. He couldn’t drag them into the insane psycho-drama between himself and Tyler. It wasn’t worth the risk.

“It’s best not to. Thank you all the same, and thank Maura, too. It’s most kind of you both to offer. ”

Jabir asked again, many times, but Alex’s answer was always the same.

Razin had a little brother, Zayd, and Maura often brought the two of them together to the pool.

Zayd was bolder than his brother, less solemn, and often caused mayhem, but Razin was always kind and patient with him.

Alex loved watching them playing by the pool, their dark heads pressed together as they dug little holes in the flower beds with sticks, or ran around the courtyard chasing each other.

One time, Zayd fell over, and Razin was the first to comfort him, throwing his skinny arms around his brother and holding him gently as he sobbed.

It reminded Alex of his own brother. How was Charles? Did he ever think about him? Was he saving up his money as he’d promised to buy Alex’s contract the second he was allowed? Not that Tyler would ever let him go, so it was pointless, but he liked to dream of a world in which it could happen.

Family legend had it that Charles had been so excited when their mother brought Alex home from the hospital that he’d brought all his toys and placed them in Alex’s cradle, covering him completely.

Isobel had gently explained that he wouldn’t be old enough to play for a while, but Charles had continued to do it, right up until the time when Alex did finally play with him.

Charles had always had time for him, always given him anything he asked for, even if it was his most treasured possession.

He’d been so excited when his parents had told him he was going to the same boarding school as his beloved big brother.

“Oh, it’s fantastic. You’ll love it,” Charles told him, enchanting him with stories about midnight feasts and a seemingly endless amount of pranks.

Charles had been right. There were plenty of midnight feasts, but Alex was never invited, and he was usually the butt of all the pranks.

He wondered what he was doing wrong and studied his brother for clues.

Charles was always smiling, always happy, and so good-natured that he attracted friends wherever he went.

What was his secret? Where did that effortless charm come from?

Alex felt difficult and complicated in comparison.

For Charles, every day was a sunny one, even when it was pouring with rain.

He was also physically strong and so good-looking.

Alex was scrawny and dark, pale and uninteresting by comparison. The ugly Lytton.

As the months passed, Alex sank into a depression.

He’d made no friends except the art teacher, a flamboyant woman who reminded him a little of his mother.

He missed Isobel. Whenever he called home, she regaled him with stories of trips to the theatre and lunches with her friends in expensive restaurants.

She sounded happier now he was gone, even if she didn’t mean to.

Later, it occurred to him that she might have been filling up her life because she missed him, but at the time, he simply thought she’d moved on.

One day, Charles found him up to his knees in mud, wading through a little trench out in the woods filled with sludge.

“Alex? Brown says you took all his clothes and threw them into the pool. Why would you do that?” Charles asked. “And, also, what on earth are you doing?” He planted his hands on his hips and gazed at his little brother, a perplexed frown creasing his forehead.

“I made a drawing for Mum’s birthday. I was going to send it to her, but Brown took it and threw it in this ditch.

That’s why I threw his clothes in the pool.

” Alex searched through the muddy water for the drawing, found it, and pulled it out.

It was wet through, smeared with mud, and completely unsalvageable.

“Oh, dear.” Charles grimaced.

“I hate it here,” Alex seethed, tearing up the painting and scattering the remains back into the sludge.

“You are having a bad time of it, aren’t you? I can’t think why.” Charles looked completely bemused by Alex’s lack of popularity.

“I’m not you! Nobody likes me here.”

“I do,” Charles said stoutly. “Come on, let’s get you out of there.” He offered Alex his hand and made short work of plucking him out of the mud. Then he wrapped an arm around his shoulder as they walked back to the school .

As they drew near, Brown came charging out with his little posse of friends, looking ready to do battle.

“Hey, fellas,” Charles called in a cheery voice.

The gang of boys paused. Charles was well liked, and a few years older.

Nobody wanted to include him in their fights with Alex.

Charles flashed them his most genial smile.

“I’m rowing in a regatta next weekend and have six free tickets,” he announced.

“Five are up for grabs. Alex gets first dibs. There’ll be girls there.

” He gave a knowing wink. “Alex gets to choose who comes along.”

That took the wind out of their sails and ensured that, for the next few days at least, Alex wasn’t short of friends. Charles used his charm instead of his fists, and generally preferred to avoid confrontation, but he was a steadfast ally.

Alex was devastated when his parents removed Charles from the school a few months later to concentrate on his rowing.

He missed his brother badly and, without his friend and protector, went completely off the rails.

Before long, he’d been expelled, which he was glad about as it meant he got to go home…

only home was different now. Charles and his mother were always off training, and his father was upset with him for being expelled, and before long he was packed off to a new boarding school and was soon expelled from that, too.

When he returned home after that, he felt even more alienated.

His father was working all hours, and his mother and Charles were only interested in Charles’s blossoming rowing career.

He took to stealing Charles’s motorbike and roaming around the local area with his sketchpad, stopping wherever the fancy took him and drawing what he saw there.

It was a lonely life, but he preferred it to being tormented at school.

Inevitably, he was sent away to another school, and that was where he discovered croc. It soothed him, made him feel mellow, and helped him get by. He even made a couple of friends, until his croc habit was exposed and he was expelled from that school, too.

Croc. He hadn’t thought about it in years, and yet there was something about his current state of mind that reminded him of it. There was a haziness to his life in Spain, a lack of clarity and focus that resembled a croc-induced high. He liked it. It was easier than having to feel anything.