The Gateway - Chapter IX: Bloom Of The Tulips

Dark storm clouds billow above, casting an ominous shadow across Blackberry as they do so. Rain lashes to the ground with all the determination of an army set on world domination. The precipitation gathers in legions forming puddles, which merge with the mud to create a thick substance, which dirties the grass and binds it underneath its contaminated body.

The mud and the clouds outside could almost be a metaphor for the guilt that has been eating away at me these last few months. Blackberry is at current experiencing the April showers; five months have passed since Geoffrey met his demise. The villagers assumed exactly as Susan predicted they would; Geoffrey had set the barn on fire with his lit cigarette as Nell found the barn ablaze with the reverend shortly after Mary, Susan and myself had left. The reverend spotted the cigarette packet Susan had left just outside the barn and thus concluded cigarettes to be the cause of Geoffrey’s death. They had also come to suspect Mary was in there with him when they found the remains of the shotgun. They also thought the clothes Susan stole had actually been taken by Mary, who would have needed an extra set of clothes when she ran away, and so we had truly gotten away with murder.

Susan had kept her word to Mary and had found her an abandoned house, which was actually quite large, on the outskirts of Dark Moor. It was positioned on a hill but had been not kept well by the previous owner and was rotting. I had been there on one occasion, with Susan and Mary, and had managed to put my foot though the staircase.

The tulips had recently come into bloom and opened up the red of their flower to the world. Everywhere, it seemed, had an air of freshness; it was truly a time for new beginnings. Andrew and his brother and sisters had even turned over a new leaf at the dawn of nineteen-thirteen and had recently been going to church and even singing the hymns. Yet, if you look into their eyes the hatred was still there, undying, underlying, waiting for a chance.

In a slightly more optimistic note, I have been getting on with Alice well and we have managed to rise above the initial obstacle in our relationship, which was my lack of commitment to the church. Alice is increasingly uneasy, however, with my growing friendship with Susan. Susan and myself are now bonded by our mutual crime and so we maintain a close relationship, if for nothing else, to keep that alibi and willingness to have each other’s back if all Hell breaks loose. For now though the only conceivable force which could take us down belongs with Mary, for if she is seen, given she is 'dead', it would place us in grave danger for Mary would probably give way to the brutal interrogation she would face upon her capture thus admitting to the part the three of us played in Geoffrey’s death with the probable consequence that we would all be hung. I sometimes think Susan is becoming so paranoid that Mary will be spotted that she, on occasion, contemplates silencing her. It really does scare me every so often when I consider what would happen if our web of deceit and murder were to spectacularly untangle – what desperate and dark measures would we be forced to take upon ourselves to literally just survive?

I withdrew from my window and lay upon my bed. It was time to fall asleep again and submerge into a world far darker than my own once more.

I had never seen the garden outside the gateway so cast in shadow before. I cast a glance at the pond, which glistened under the moon, yet I could see no fish. The frolicking flowers were too struck motionless. All that seemed alive in the cloaked darkness was the soldier staring at the ground with the hood hiding its face and myself. My dream was turning into a nightmare.
‘The flowers are in bloom are they not?’
‘Yes,’ I replied, ‘but what consequence does that bear other than the temperature of the night air will be more agreeable?’
‘It will bear much consequence, for the spring is the start of new things. This spring new life will spring forth. Pray, can you not feel the whisper of revolution of the wind’s breath, the panicky and excited clamour of the birds, the lifting of the darkness of the night giving way to the light of a new generation who will change this world? Even on Dark Moor the poppies will grow and thrive and within the seeds of these flowers, who seem so innocent and beautiful, delicate even, is harnessed a power that can be used to great effect. We will be unstoppable; we will take on God. The fires of Hell will not burn us; the waters of Heaven will not douse our passion, the power we shall wield the world will not be able to fathom, and with the wings of destiny on which we fly, our law will be known, our beliefs upheld, and we, the founding fathers – you and I, John, will become the only Gods people will talk of in the next millennium. Two thousand years after the birth of Jesus, it is not his name that will be formed upon their lips before they sleep, it will be ours – we will put a stop to the oppression of religion; the world will know true freedom.’ The soldier spoke like a politician, but also like a madman – though with some there is little difference anyway. His ideas were, to put it lightly, ambitious.
‘What do you mean?’ I inquired, thoroughly confused.
‘I am sure you will see soon enough, for nineteen-thirteen is the year of the New Model Soldier.’
‘I don’t understand! I don’t understand!’ I murmured.
‘I know you don’t. You don’t understand anything old boy,’ William smiled.
I looked around; I was back in my room.
‘Pray, be quiet William.’ I said disagreeably.
‘Pray, be quiet William,’ he mimicked, ‘you’ve been in the company of that Susan far too long. You’re picking up her snobby little remarks.’
‘Oh, what would you know of Susan?’ I snapped.
‘Not much, but that is the circumstance I prefer in all honesty. I think she is a pretentious creature, far too immersed in her own, self-held, airs to be considered attractive or agreeable in any form.’ William replied.
‘The high estimation with which she holds herself are justified, she is a lady of grace and beauty and yet I have seen a side of her which many have not; despite the coldness and bleakness in her eyes, she has passion for in what she believes, and I am sure would become a martyr if her cause so demanded. If only there were more girls like Susan, this country would be so much better off.’
‘So it is true,’ William said.
‘What is?’ I said irately, sensing a typical witty one liner to shortly follow.
‘Love is blind’
I cast him a disdainful look before getting dressed and leaving his company and heading to the breakfast room.

After eating I left to visit Susan. I arrived at Reverend Osborne’s abode and promptly knocked upon the doorbell. Devious green eyes met mine as the door opened.
‘Hello John, I suppose you’re here to see Susan as usual?’ Felicity asked.
‘Yes, may I come in?’
‘Susan is not here,’ she put her hands behind her back and leant against the door way, pushing her body forward alluringly and she flashed me a seductive smile, ‘say, where do you and Susan go all the time; I see you heading off in the direction of Dark Moor?’
‘We just walk on the vale and talk Felicity.’ I said flatly.
Felicity bridled a little and crossed her arms.
‘Do not think of me as a fool, I can assure I am not. I will ask again in a pleasant tone – where do you and Susan go?’ Felicity’s eyes bore into mine.
I stood silent for a while before saying:
‘Well, I suppose I’ll see you later then?’ I turned my back and set off away from the house. A moment later and I felt Felicity grab my arm; pull me to face her and then a sharp slap across the face.
‘Don’t you turn your back on me ever again you bloody insolent creature; who are you to ignore me so. I hereby swear on the blueness of my blood that you are by far the most impertinent boy I have ever met, and do not consider that a light statement by judge of my age and thus experience, for I have Peter and Andrew for brothers.’ Felicity had lost her temper and calm countenance and was ablaze with rage.
‘Perhaps you would take a second to consider that my failure to address your question was not of the design to consciously snub you, but a sign of my absolute loyalty to your sister,’ I said shakily, I had never been slapped by a girl before.
‘I am sorry I lost my temper with you John,’ Felicity apologised, regaining her composure, ‘but please, forsake my sister’s wishes for a mere moment, tell me where you go.’
‘Of what importance is it to you?’
‘I am curious, there is so little to do in this village. It is decidedly scarce of good company and thus I am rather bored and flights of fancy as to where you go have been much of my main source of entertainment for the past six months and so I implore you, for the sake of giving me something to be part of, for the sake of stopping my loneliness descending into madness for lack of social converse, tell me where you and Susan wander so suspiciously every few days. I cannot think where your interest in each other lies; Susan is far too old to have taken to you fondly in a romantic way and the acquaintance of you two does not make much sense either, for you are so different to each other, it seems almost impossible that you should be friends on terms of age and subjects of interest let alone the fact you are a farm boy – Susan has all her life made friends with ladies and the only boys she has spent more than half an hour in the wilful company of are heir to some sort of title and most certainly an estate. What is the basis of your most unlikely friendship?’
‘I can’t tell you Felicity, truthfully I can’t. The reason I can’t tell you is partly the reason I am friends with Susan; we are bound together by secrecy.’ I answered.
‘Fine,’ replied Felicity scowling, ‘good day to you.’ She slammed the front door.

I carried on with my journey to Dark Moor. Susan and myself did go to Dark Moor every few days, Felicity was correct in assuming that, but we did not stroll around just talking. We were in fact making a journey to the abandoned house in which Mary was living. I could not divulge to Felicity the design of our visits to the house as she believed Mary to be dead and Susan clearly thought Felicity was not to be trusted. I shared her view in all honesty, Felicity was about the same age of myself but she had been spoilt so she knew little boundaries and would possibly not hesitate to mention Mary was alive and thus Mary would be arrested by the local law enforcement for the murder of Nell’s cattle and possibly, if they reviewed the circumstances surrounding Geoffrey’s death, his murder as well. This would lead, as I have mentioned before, to Susan and myself being forced to admit our part in the killing of Geoffrey.

I arrived at the house. It was huge in size, four storeys, not including a cellar and attic. Plant life had crawled up the side of the house, completely smothering one of the windows of the first floor. Some of the windows had no glass, some were boarded up actually, and tiles from the roof littered the ground at the skirt of the buildings edge. The inside looked as dark as Hell, which was due to it not being decorated and its walls were a grey-black colour and the fact there was no electricity. Neither was there running water, Mary had to collect water from the Red River. Susan often brought her candles so she would have some light to live with. What Mary did with her spare time I am unsure, but I believe it is some sort of project for Susan.
‘So this is where you’ve been going all this time?’
I closed my eyes and became extremely worried. I had been careless. She had followed me. I opened my eyes and turned round to face Felicity.
‘You didn’t honestly think you were going to stop me finding out did you?’
‘Felicity go home now, you don’t want to go into this house.’ I said warningly.
‘Oh, and why is that?’
I looked at the house and quickly came up with a lie, which I hoped she would fall for.
‘It’s haunted,’ I said.
‘Really?’ Felicity replied with mock-fear.
‘Yeah, there’s a ghost of a little girl whose face is covered in blood.’ I weakly made up.
‘Fascinating, I wonder if she has any pretty dolls, let’s find out shall we?’ Felicity was clearly enjoying herself.
‘Please Felicity,’ I looked hard into her eyes. I was practically begging her.
‘Get out of my way.’ I watched helplessly as she strode towards the front door. Just before Felicity went to open the door Susan came out.
‘What on Earth are you doing here Felicity?’ Susan exclaimed before her eyes fell on me. ‘Have you taken her here John?’ she demanded looking like all of Hell had consumed her.
‘No, she followed me. I…I didn’t notice. I’m really sorry Susan.’ I muttered abjectly, feeling tears well up in my eyes and a deep sense of shame brought blood to my cheeks.
‘We’re going home now!’ Susan said to Felicity.
‘You go where you wish, I’m going in that house,’ Felicity retorted.
Susan slapped her hard across the face.
‘You will not answer me back. You will do as I say!’
Felicity gave her a look of absolute hatred and venom before running tearfully back to her house.
‘You’re meeting me at the church at midnight tonight; fail to be there and I will deal with you severely.’ Susan said as she passed. I watched as Susan followed Felicity and wondered what had begun.