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Sunday, November 28, 2010

The Dance of Revenge - Chapter Four

The story of The Dance of Revenge continues.

Here is ALL of Chapter Four!

If you're only joining in now, you can read all of the story so far by clicking on the links on the RHS of my homepage. Just scroll down to the ballet shoes.

Chapter Four

SHERRIE sat on the carpeted flour of her grandmother's lounge room and proceeded to turn the pages of the old photo album. There were many photos of her grandmother and a man who looked very handsome.

"Who is this, grandma?" Sherrie asked curiously. Grandma Dolty knelt beside her and laughed.

"Ah, Sherrie. You must know who that is. 'Non'?" [Once again, I'm highlighting the fact that I'm using the french language in my writing.] Sherrie shook her head.

"His face looks familiar, but I cannot place it." Grandma Dolty laughed heartily.

"Who is the person that I have seated in the photo near my bed?" Grandma Dolty asked pleasently. [Or, pleasantly, even.]

"Grandfather Dolty," Sherrie replied.

"That is your grandfather there too!" Grandma Dolty exclaimed. "Only here he is younger and thinner. The other photo was taken only three months before he died." Sherrie's grandmother became quiet with memories of her beloved husband. [Awww. That's kinda touching.]

"Grandma," Sherrie began, "where does the name 'Dolty' come from? It's not french, is it?"

"Ah, non ma chere. Your grandfather was Australian. That is where Dolty came from." [Aussie, Aussie, Aussie - oye, oye, oye!]

Sherrie had never known her grandfather, for he died a month before she was born. He had only been fifty-one, but, unfortunately, had died with cancer. Sherrie's grandmother told her often that when her and Howard, Sherrie's grandfather's name, had been married, it was over conflict. [True love doesn't run smoothly in this family, does it?] Grandma Dolty's parents had not agreed that she should marry someone who was ten years older than herself, but Grandma Dolty did not listen to them because she loved Howard. And love was more important than age. [Amen, sista. There's hope for Henry Cavill and I yet. ;) ]

Sherrie turned the pages and looked at the photos of her mother when she was younger. There was one of her mother hugging a cute little cat.

"Is that mama and her cat, Fluffy?" Sherrie asked.

"Why, yes, Sherrie. How did you know that was Fluffy?" Sherrie laughed and sighed. [Well, it can't be easy to do both at the same time.]

"Mama always talks about her cat, Fluffy. We were going to get a cat one day, but it seems mama has forgotten." There was a sour note in the way Sherrie talked. "Her mind is on other things these days." Sherrie looked to the ground.

"Sherrie ma chere. Do not be upset. Your mother still loves you. Adam...well Adam is just on her mind a little."

Sherrie knew that her grandmother did not like Mr Brair either, though she tried to hide it. Sherrie was looking at the last page in the book when she noticed a pocked on the inside cover. She dug her fingers inside and pulled out a photo of her mother with a man who was terribly handsome.

He stood poised against a statue of a bird bathing in a bowel of water. [Once again, I assume I meant a 'bowl' of water. And, ah, couldn't that be a fountain or bird bath I was referring to?] The scene was in a park with a lot of flowers to either side. Sherrie turned to look at her grandmother who had continued her knitting that she had started.

"Grandma? Who's this man with mama?" Sherrie's grandmother peered over to the photo, and when she saw it, she snatched it off Sherrie hurriedly.

"Where did you find this?" she asked Sherrie sharply.

"In the pocket of the inside cover. Why, grandma? Who is it?" Sherrie asked, confused at her grandmother's behaviour.

"Never you mind! You are not to look in that photo album again until I allow you to." She arose from her chair and placed the photo in a box above a shelf, that Sherrie could not reach.

Sherrie looked at her grandmother who was now crying openly.

"Oh, I'm sorry grandma. I will not do it again. I'm sorry." She stood hugging her grandmother. Why had her grandmother reacted that way? Who was the man in the photo? Whoever it was seemed to upset her grandmother. Buy why?

*     *     *     *     *

Oh, Michelle. What have you got yourself into? Grandma Dolty asked herself. Michelle stood looking at the photo that Sherrie had found an hour ago. If Sherrie only knew...

But she didn't. Michelle could of [have] kicked herself for shouting at the poor child. But she was too shocked that the photo had been found after all these years. She took the photo and walked into the bathroom. Once in there, she opened the cupboard under the sink and stuffed the photo out of sight behind the lead piping. For now it was safe.

*     *     *     *     *

Sherrie jumped off the train and walked slowly, deep in thought, around the crowded station. Since Sherrie had left her grandmother's house, she kept thinking of the photo. She could not understand why her grandmother did not want to show the picture to her. She wondered what was wrong with it.

Sherrie slowed her pace even more when she approached the house where she lived. Mr Brair's car was parked outside on their

"Sherrie, is that you?" Elizabeth called. Sherrie sighed. She wasn't certain she felt like talking to her mother.

"Yes, mama." She walked into the living room where her mother and Mr Brair sat drinking white wine in tall, thin glasses. [I think I was thinking of champagne glasses - but probably wasn't certain what it was called?] "Why the wine, mama?" Sherrie asked curiously. [Now see - in my house, if the kids walked in and I was drinking wine with Hubby - I'm not sure they'd blink an eye!]

"Your mother and I have something to celebrate, Sherrie," Mr Brair announced. "Why don't you sit here." He patted the seat next to him.

"Non, merci," Sherrie replied. She sat next to her mother and lowered her gaze to a piece of paper that sat on the inexpensive coffee table. "What's this?" Elizabeth snatched the paper from the table and held it out for Sherrie to inspect. Sherrie gasped when she read the certificate announcing her mother's marriage to Mr Brair. She looked at her mother's smile with disbelief. They had married without having her there! Without telling [her] the date.

"W-when?" Sherrie whispered. Tears welled in her eyes.

"Today, ma chere. Is it not a nice surprise?" [Is this woman nuts? It's not like her daughter hasn't already told her what she thought of 'Mr Brair'! Sheesh.] Sherrie began to feel the anger rising inside her. [You go, girl.]

"Without ME?" she screamed. "You wed that bastard without telling me when you were going to marry?!" Elizabeth raised her hand and slapped Sherrie. Sherrie screamed and ran up to the attic where she could be alone. She faintly heard her mother's sobs and Mr Brair soothing her, telling her that she would get over it and maybe it was better to invite her out for a reception since she did not attend the wedding.

Sherrie listened and sobbed herself. [Rather than have someone do it for her?] What a stupid bastard to think she would join them for dinner! Sherrie stared out the window. Now it was final. Mr Brair was her stepfather. He would live in her house and eat at her table. And what if he tried to touch her again? Sherrie had to go. Live with her grandmother. Anything! As long as she was away from him.

A knock at the attic door snapped her away from her thoughts. Her lip began to tremble. Her mother's voice came from behind the door.

"Sherrie? Sherrie, please, can I enter?"

"Leave me alone!" Sherrie screamed back. "Go away."

"Please, Sherrie. We have to talk." The door inched its way open until Sherrie could see the full body of her mother in the entrance. [Thank goodness. If she'd seen, say, only her mother's head...weird.] Sherrie turned her head back to the window and stiffened when her mother touched her shoulders.

"Leave me alone," Sherrie whispered.

"No, not yet. Sherrie, tomorrow Adam and I are flying to Switzerland for our honeymoon. You are going to stay with your grandmother. When I get back I expect you to accept Adam." Sherrie's eyes widened in horror!

"Accept him?" she screeched. "Accept him? No. I won't. I'll never ever accept him living here, in our house. And how can you just fly off with Mr Brair whilst I stay here? Don't you love me anymore, Mother? Maybe you love him better. Yes, that's it! You love him better than I!" [Love him 'more' may have been a 'better' choice of words.] She sobbed against the glass plated window.

"Sherrie, how can you say that? I love you ma chere." Sherrie noted she called her ma chere - my dear. She called Mr Brair ma cherie - my darling. No, she did not love her.

"You're lying mama. You are selfish because you take him and leave me. It will always be like this won't it?"

"Non, ma chere!"                          

"Stop calling me your dear! Save it for your precious Mr Brair!"

Elizabeth could not stand it any longer. Once again, she slapped her daughter's face.

"You're a selfish brat, Sherrie! You only want me for yourself. Well, I tell you now. I love Adam! Don't try and take that away from me!" She turned to leave the room. But before she did, she picked up a vase that sat on a small table in the corner of the room and flung it close to Sherrie. [Ooh - biatch.] Sherrie screamed as the vase hit the wall and a piece flung against her cheek, cutting the skin slightly.

"YOU BITCH!" she screamed as the door slammed shut. What was happening to her and her mother? Further away they were standing from each other. Mr Brair was taking over. Sherrie swore to get that bastard and her. She would. One day. [Hmmm..the revenge part...]

*     *     *     *     *

Elizabeth lay naked under the sheets next to her husband, thinking of dinner. She and Adam had gone out, leaving Sherrie home to sulk in the attic. Adam could always make her happy as he whispered romantic things that night at dinner. [Presumably, to her.] When they had come home they had rushed straight to bed. They had made love like they had never done before. Elizabeth had to bite Adam's shoulder to stop from crying out in pleasure as he lay on top of her. She also did not want Sherrie to hear. Their lovemaking was the best that they had ever had. Far different from when she had made love to the man that had gotten her pregnant. They were only sixteen and they had not made love in a bed, but in some old tool shed that was in her backyard. [Ouch.]

Elizabeth could not wait until her honeymoon where she could spend time with Adam alone. She looked at his body and sighed with happiness. He had a power over her that she loved. She would do anything for him. Anything.

Adam began to stir in his sleep and then opened his eyes, smiling.

"Elizabeth, you are so beautiful. Just think, we have the rest of our lives together." His sweet words touched her. 

"But Adam. The money. Our financial papers tell us..."

"Elizabeth, honey. Don't worry about money," Adam interrupted. "Let's just think about us." His hand ran up and down her body and she shivered with excitement at his touch. Then they fell asleep in each other's arms. Elizabeth, for the time being, forgetting about money. 

Who is the person in the photo? Why is Sherrie's grandmother hiding his identity? What decisions will Elizabeth and Adam make about their financial situation? Will it affect Sherrie?

Hmmmm....stay tuned next week, people.



Tamsyn said...

I'm loving it Jodie, I can't believe you wrote this at 14!

Katie said...

They don't call it the *tool shed* for nothin' !!
Loving this story so much.

Thea said...

Oh, the suspense!!!!!
What a horrible mother. :)

BS said...

Every home should have a carpeted flour.