Foxblood: Rise of the Hellion (WattyAward 2012 Finalist)

Part Nineteen

I was too shocked to speak. Mrs Lovell, however, wasn’t.

“Get dressed girl. What have I told you about disappearing in the middle of the night? I need you here.”

Tamar silently pulled her nightdress over her head and lit a candle. Then she crossed the room and pulled back her bedcovers, but she didn’t get into bed. Instead, she went over to the sideboard and poured a shot of brandy, downing it in one.

During Tamar’s wanderings around the room, Mrs Lovell continued her tirade. “What if I’d had a heart attack or a stroke? Your place is with me, girl. Now bring me the bedpan.”

The request went unheeded. Tamar was in a trance. She lifted the bottle of remaining liquor along with the candle and almost floated over to the old lady.

Then she spoke. “Think you might wet the bed, Grandmother? Let me help you.”

A smile spread over the wrinkled face, topped with a white mop cap. Clearly, assistance was anticipated. Unfortunately, it didn’t arrive. Copper coloured liquid sprinkled from the bottle, and dark stains began to spread across the white sheets. Flames from the dropped candle took hold almost immediately.

“Tamar, Tamar darling, are you out of your mind?” cried Mrs Lovell, batting the sheets. “Stop this insanity at once, aargh.” Sounds of pain became screams of agony as the flames licked first the nightdress, then the shawl, and the old lady lit up like a guy on bonfire night.

I stood there watching the demise of a matriarch, feet rooted to the floor with disbelief. Why would Tamar do such a thing? I could never have imagined the little mouse of a girl, I’d come to know, ever acting like this.

A silent scream echoed inside my head. I should help, quickly before it was too late. My feet felt as if they were stuck in treacle, but I managed to take a step towards the fire. All too abruptly, Tamar’s face met mine. So, she had the gift of speed like her brother, had she? I had a feeling that this girl was a much more formidable foe than her family realised.

“You’re next,” she hissed, spraying my face with spittle.

“What? Why? Tamar I don’t think you’re well. Let me go to your grandmother,” I pleaded.

I tried to take another step, but I was immediately blocked. Tamar’s evil grin obstructing any rescue attempt.

Mrs Lovell was running out of time.

“Tamar, please,” I begged, realising it was too late to save the old lady and thinking of my own safety. “What have I ever done to you?”

“I can’t have you opening that snout of yours and spilling all my secrets, now can I?” she sneered. “That would not do at all. I’ve worked hard on my persona. I need everyone to believe that I couldn’t possibly be capable of the things that I’ve done.”

Behind her, the screams had stopped and the fire was spreading. A blackened corpse toppled over into the flames, and a sickening smell of burnt meat permeated the air.