Chapter Fifty-Six
Havermouth, Present Time
Rhett stood apart, watching her turn and drive away, and she hoped that it wasn’t the start of a separation of the Triquetra “Because you need to feel guilty, as well as traumatized… not,” she muttered to herself as she pulled out onto the main street.
She found enough coin in the center console to buy a meal at the local drive-through, but as she contemplated what to eat, she found that her hunger had gone, smothered beneath the pain and wrongness that she was feeling. “Keep it together, Aislen,” she told herself. “Don’t touch the bad candy.”
She ordered all the unhealthiest things on the menu in a deliberate effort to prove to herself that she was okay, and stuffed some fries into her mouth, chewing stubbornly as she drove to her father’s house, trying to convince herself that they tasted better than sawdust.
She pulled up, and eased her way out of the car, her feet letting her know that she’d given them a terrible time. Her whole body ached, the skin that Rhett had tattooed felt stiff and sore, and she had no idea how she’d manage to apply the ointment to it. She was so tired that she was tempted to shove the unwanted takeaway into the fridge and just go to bed – except that she knew she needed to eat.
She unlocked the front door.
“Excuse me?” A young woman asked from behind her.
Aislen sighed and turned to face her. The woman was fresh-faced, neat, and tidy, in a buttoned-up cardigan and blue jeans. Her brunette hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. She wasn’t holding a Bible, but that was Aislen’s first thought on seeing her. “Look,” Aislen said, opening the door. “I’m glad that you’ve found your God, and I’m sure he’s great. But I’m about to fall over from exhaustion and die of starvation, so now isn’t a good time…”
“Are you… Aislen Carter?” The woman looked uncertain.
“Yeah,” Aislen replied warily. The woman wasn’t there to spread the word of her God. “What of it?”
“I’m June Barnham,” the woman said, stepping closer to the porch and putting her hand on the railing. “I don’t expect that you recognize the name. I remember you, though, a bit. You were only at school for a couple of months… You made an impression, however.”
“Did I?” Aislen replied dryly, arching an eyebrow. She imagined so, being the Triquetra’s whore, she thought to herself.
“Yes,” June replied. “You made an impression on my brother, too. He thought you were the hottest thing he’d seen in forever,” she gave a shrugged and embarrassed smile. “Direct quote. But he was dating someone else at the time… Which is why I am here, really.”
“Because your brother thought that I was a hot mess?” Aislen was bemused. “Look, I’ve had one chicken salad in like three days, and my already very unappetizing food is getting cold…” She lifted the bag.
“My brother is Guy,” June said. “Guy Barnham. You might not remember him…”
Aislen bit her bottom lip. Fuck. “I remember him,” she said softly.
“He went to prison. But you might not know that… You left around the same time as the court case... Accidental manslaughter of Lucy Howard?”
“I remember that.” Aislen nodded reluctantly. “Why are you looking for me? I’m not dating your brother in prison. I already have more than enough man troubles to keep me occupied for quite some time, without adding that to the mix.”
“It was an accident,” June replied. “It really was. He was, in his own fucked up way, trying to help the girl that he liked. She was pregnant, you see, and they were, you know, kids, and stupid… They tried stupid, stupid things to get her to lose the baby. Jumping off chairs, punching her in the stomach, drinking and smoking, hot baths... anything that they thought would work."
"Knitting needles," Aislen remembered grimly.
"Yes, knitting needles,” June’s face was pained. “They were planning on going to a clinic. But it’s such a long way, and so expensive… They’d hoped to… find another solution.”
“Other than having the baby.”
“June was convinced it would kill her. She said that she wasn’t meant to get pregnant. That it shouldn’t have happened, and that she would die because of it… And Guy believed her fear was real,” she stepped up onto the porch. “He thinks… He says you knew. You knew what they were going to do. Lucy must have told you, in the bathroom or something he said, because you knew…”
“I knew about the knitting needle plan,” Aislen had a headache coming on, the sort that made her teeth hurt and that she knew was entirely related to stress and being run down. “I told them not to do it. I told them that it wouldn’t end well…”
June nodded and swallowed hard. “He is up for parole soon,” she said. “There’s always been some doubt as to whether he was trying to get rid of a baby he didn’t want to spend the rest of his life paying for, or that he was genuinely trying to help, and it was an accident…”
Fuck, Aislen thought. They didn’t know. Perhaps Guy hadn’t known. Either way, it hadn’t come out that the baby wasn’t his. “It was an accident.”
“Please,” June touched Aislen’s arm. (You are his only hope…. He will die in there, kill himself in despair… I have to get him out.) “Please testify for him at his parole hearing. Tell them what you know. Tell them that it was an accident. Help me bring him home.”