Sacrifices of the Siren [Sirens and Sailors 6] (Siren Publishing Allure) (7 page)

“Had she always been depressed, then?” Blandon asked quietly.

“Oh no, dear. She was a very happy little girl when she was growing up. She had many friends—everyone liked her. She used to have such a sweet little laugh, too. Melantho has always been kind and gentle, but she used to be such fun when she was younger.” Pallas smiled as she obviously remembered happier times.

“When did she change?” Blandon was wiping himself down as he chatted. He had no idea what Melantho had been like when she was younger, having only come to the island less than a year ago himself. He had liked her instantly though. She was quiet and shy, like him, but sometimes he had seen a twinkle in her eyes which told him she had a mischievous side hiding somewhere.

Pallas frowned thoughtfully as she gazed out to sea. “I think it was when she became a Siren. She did all the training with the others—she was quite a strong swimmer as I remember—and I remember her first few days on Destiny Rock. Like most of the girls, she must have found the first time ‘entertaining’ the sailors very hard.”

Blandon turned to face the old lady as she had stopped abruptly. He frowned. “What is it?”

“I think she went away. I don’t remember seeing her for ages and then there she was, working in the big house. It must have been months later. Hermandine had taken her under her wing, but not in a kind, caring way. She seemed to monopolize the girl. She was never allowed out to socialize with the rest of the girls. Hermandine always said she was too busy. She seemed to cut the poor girl off from the rest of them. I don’t know why.” Pallas was evidently deep in thought as she recalled the past.

“When was this?”

Pallas shook her head. “A couple of years ago, I should think. It was only after Hermandine left the island that Melantho really started to talk to the girls—properly, I mean. She was never unfriendly or anything—she just never seemed to be about. Once Hermandine left she seemed to join in much more.”

“I’m surprised Hermandine didn’t take her with her when she first moved to Eastland,” Blandon said thoughtfully.

“She couldn’t really. Poseidon told us all that we could live wherever we wanted. If Hermandine had insisted on taking Melantho against her wishes he would have heard of it—the sailors would have made sure of that. She probably thinks that they will have forgotten by now and she can get her to do what she wants again. Besides, she and Solon are getting very old now and probably can’t cope on their own. Ophelie and Sofronia went to live in an old people’s home and love it. I don’t know why they don’t go and join them. Minerva keeps me up to date with everyone. She lives on her own and is thriving. She even has her own computer, which she uses to Super-Skype and v-mail me on. She said leaving the island was the best thing she has ever done.” Pallas smiled as she spoke of her friends.

“You must have been very close.” Blandon smiled.

“I didn’t always agree with everything they said and did, but I know they were only following orders from Hermandine. I just wish they had all been a little kinder to the girls—there was no need for them to be so cruel at times. Minerva said they are all much different now that Hermandine isn’t telling them what to do—except for Solon, of course. Hermandine always favored her.”

“It must have been very hard for you.” Blandon sighed.

A tear had formed in the corner of Pallas’s eye and the young sailor felt guilty for putting it there. He quickly rose to his feet. “Thank you so much, Pallas. I’m beginning to understand a little more now.”

She sniffed as she slowly got up and steadied herself, leaning on her stick. “I’ll let you know if I recall anything else, dear.” She smiled at him as she slowly made her way back up the beach.

* * * *

The next few days saw Melantho spiralled into the depths of depression. Hermandine and Solon had taken to whacking her with their sticks whenever she did something wrong, and the slaps she received on her face were causing her cheek to swell. She didn’t mean to do things wrong, but she wasn’t used to the weather on the mainland, and several times found it had started to rain when she had left furniture, clothes, or rugs out in the yard. She found it hard to use a cooker in the kitchen, too, and burned the dinner a few times. On Refrainia they always used a fire outside to cook their meals. Even heating water was a mystery to her—there was a thing called an emersion heater on the wall but she couldn’t fathom how it worked. She was reprimanded very badly when Solon had wanted a bath and the water was cold, and yet again had to go without a meal. The air was cold and she couldn’t seem to stop shivering. She had been given a dress to wear, which was actually just two straight pieces of cloth sewn together with gaps left for her arms and head. It seemed to get more baggy on her by the day, but at least it was warmer than her bikini. The weather was miserable. It seemed to rain on and off all through the days and nights, and she seldom saw the sun. The house was dark and she wasn’t allowed to draw back the curtains at the front of the house. It felt damp, too, and sometimes she found it hard to breathe properly. Every day seemed like the one before and there was no hope for the future. She knew this was to be her life from now on and she just had to accept it.

She was washing clothes in the backyard when there was a loud knock at the door. She was aware of a sudden flurry of activity as she went inside to answer it, and Solon grabbed her and hauled her upstairs. She was locked in her room without an explanation, and cried into her coverlet. They didn’t have many visitors, and this was the second time she had been locked in her room when someone came around. She was hoping for some company, even if it was just someone trying to sell their wares to the old ladies. She was never allowed out of the house, except to the backyard which had a thick wall all around it, so she never saw anyone except Hermandine and Solon. They seemed to have become even meaner since they left the island too, and she suspected it was either because of their age or because there was no one here to stop them.

Through her sobs she could hear raised voices. It sounded like several men, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying. She ran to her window, but it overlooked the backyard so there was nothing to see. She noticed it was starting to rain and her heart sank as she remembered the washing she had left out in the yard. No doubt she would get punished for that. Someone seemed to be in the house and she could hear Hermandine screaming that she would call the police. After a short while the noise stopped and she heard the slam of the front door.

Solon unlocked her door again, berating her for leaving the washing outside. Melantho received a swat on her arm and was led back downstairs where she had to gather up all the wet clothes. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and got on with the job. The young girl felt her eyes glaze over as she worked like an automaton, hanging the wet clothes in the kitchen before putting a stew on to cook. When the rain stopped Hermandine went out of the house, while Solon read a book in the lounge.

“The fire’s going out, girl!” Solon croaked and Melantho went through to add more smokeless fuel to the dying embers.

“I want some tea,” Solon snapped when the fire burst into life, and Melantho went back into the kitchen and her hands automatically made a cup of tea and took some cake from a tin for Solon.

Afterward Melantho scrubbed the wooden table the ladies used for their meals. The dirt was ingrained and her muscles ached as she tackled it. The wooden chairs were also filthy, and she took them outside where it was lighter and she set about scraping the dirt from them. Leaving them to dry in the late afternoon sun she went back into the lounge where she found Solon sleeping in her comfy chair. The young girl lifted the book from the old lady’s lap and placed it on the small table. She took the dirty cup and saucer, along with the tea plate out to the kitchen before returning to stoke the fire. A waste-paper basket stood next to the fuel and she reached over to empty the contents onto the fire. Her blood froze as she recognized the handwriting on a piece of torn paper.
Blandon!

Her heart raced as she tried to piece the note together. Most of the shreds were too small, but she managed to make out a couple of words—
love, home
, and she thought she made the word
please
.

“What are you up to, girl?” Solon barked at her, and her hands shook as she threw the rubbish onto the flames. She continued to stoke the fire before sitting back on her haunches.
Blandon had written! Had he been here? He had found me. What did he want? What else were these evil witches keeping from me?
Thoughts whizzed through her head as she stood up, and she felt sick and giddy. As she took a step forward the room seemed to spin around her, colors meshing together. She could hear Solon’s sharp voice but couldn’t make out what she was saying. Next thing she knew everything went black.

When Melantho came to her senses she was lying on the living room floor with her head throbbing and a horrid stench under her nose. Hermandine had evidently returned home and was using her smelling salts to bring her ’round. The smell was putrid and Melantho threw up before she had even opened her eyes properly.

“Stupid girl! Now look what you’ve done!” Solon’s shriek cut through her head like a knife and she tried to sit up as she felt herself vomit again all down her dress.

“Get up! Go and wash that dress now!” Hermandine ordered in disgust.

Melantho felt dizzy as she tried to stand and she almost fell down again. She staggered into the kitchen where she took off her clothes and placed them in a bucket of water, pulling a damp towel around her shivering body.

“I hope that supper’s nearly ready!” Solon scorned.

Tears she hadn’t realized she was crying trailed down Melantho’s face and she felt as though she wasn’t really there. Everything was hazy and she couldn’t see or think straight. She was crouched over the bucket, washing her clothes, as the smell of her own sick permeated her nose. She could see that her hair was wet and sticky with vomit too, but she didn’t care.

“Hurry up, girl!” Hermandine’s stick came into her line of vision just before it swiped her face. It stung and she could hear wailing but wasn’t sure where it came from. When a crushing blow thundered across her back from Hermandine’s boot she fell forward, knocking over the bucket and sending water gushing over the kitchen floor. She heard the women screaming at her and suddenly felt her blood boil. As Hermandine’s stick came flying toward her head she reached out and grabbed it.

“How dare you?” the old woman screeched.

Rage welled up inside her as Melantho yanked the stick from the crone’s wrinkled hand. She felt a stab in her side as Solon smacked her with her wooden stick. She clung onto the stick in her hand as Hermandine tried to snatch it back, and she swiped it through the air as she got up. Blood was pouring from her side and she thought she was going to be sick again but she didn’t care.

“Get away from me, you hags!” she hollered at them and they both jerked back in astonishment.

She wielded the stick toward them and they walked backward toward the wall. Melantho’s bare feet squelched over her wet clothes and she waded through the water as she walked toward them, still swiping the stick in front of her.

“You’ll pay for this, my girl!” Solon shrieked as she tried to jab the young girl with her stick.

Melantho knocked the old crone’s stick out of her hand with the one she was flailing around and both of the old women shrieked.

“You’ve got no right to do this to me! Do you hear me? No right!” Melantho’s voice was alien to her own ears as she roared at them, rage mounting inside her. She felt her whole body shaking and she felt like she was going to pass out. Keeping the old women at bay with the stick she staggered over to the lounge and hurried to the front door. It was locked as always.

“Open it!” she screamed back at the two women who were huddled together, following her from what they must have hoped was a safe distance.

“I will do no such thing!” Hermandine shouted.

Melantho saw red and swiped the stick through the air, causing the old women to flinch back. “You will open that fucking door now or I’ll kill the pair of you!” she hollered.

Cowering against the wall, Hermandine quickly took the key from around her neck, where she wore it like a long necklace, taunting Melantho. She defiantly threw the chain over to her and the young girl picked it up. The room spun around her as she stood up again and she forced herself to put the key in the lock. It took all her effort to turn it and heave open the huge door.

It was getting dark and it was pouring with rain outside, but it didn’t matter. She heard people and cars and for a second she felt hope. She heard a kerfuffle behind her as she stepped outside and felt an excruciating blow as Solon swiped her across the back with her stick. The old woman had evidently found it in the kitchen and put it to evil use. Melantho let out an agonized howl as she threw herself into the busy street.

Blandon spent the next few days trying to keep busy. He had hoped it would take his mind off the situation with Melantho but it didn’t.

“I’ve got to go to the hospital in the morning with some samples,” Dr. Jay informed him when he found him forlornly looking out to sea. “You’re welcome to come with me if you like? We can try Hermandine again, see if we can appeal to her better nature.”

Blandon’s face lit up. “You’re on. When do we leave?” He would have set sail there and then if he could have.