Solstice - The Goddess Awakens

Disorientated and dehydrated, Lola woke to find her bedroom flooded in soft amber light. Her thoughts were fuzzy as she tried to calculate what time of day it was and how long she had actually slept for. Labouring out of bed, Lola felt lethargic, almost as if she had been drugged. Her legs and arms were like lead weights, as though they hadn’t been used in a long time. Fumbling into her nightgown, she went downstairs to find her mum in the kitchen, gazing blankly out of the kitchen window. She looked as bad as Lola felt. The scrape of the kitchen chair broke her reverie.

‘Lola. You’re up, pet! Do you feel like having a wee bit of breakfast?’ At first the thought of food was repulsive to Lola but as she was about to decline her stomach protested, giving a loud rumble of discontent as she took a seat at the kitchen table.

‘Yes, Mum, I’m starving,’ croaked Lola, her voice faint and husky.

Lola found it difficult to focus on one thing for any length of time but she was perceptive enough to notice her mother’s furtive glances. Lola knew that look on her mum’s face. Her mother had worn the same anxious expression many times. It was usually when she was debating how to break some bad news, like the time Lola had wanted to go on a school trip to Paris. She had been alight when she’d brought the letter home from school. Arthur had told her all about the sights and smells of Paris. Her mother had smiled and told her she would see. To a fourteen-year-old Lola that was as good as a yes. She and the girls had talked about nothing else. A few days later Lola came home from school to find her mum at the kitchen window, the same look of turmoil on her face. Lola didn’t need her to explain, she understood how tight money was for them. Arthur had offered to pay but she couldn’t have embarrassed her parents like that. Her mum cried for hours afterwards. Looking at her now, Lola understood that her mum felt every bit of her pain, such was their bond. She wasn’t the only one that had lost him. In the time since Lola had befriended Arthur Delphian, he had become an important part of the entire family’s life.

By the time her mum sat the large plate of food down in front of her, Lola was ready for it. ‘There you are, pet, a big Ulster fry, it’ll sort you out.’ Eileen Paige planted a soft kiss on Lola’s head, taking a seat at the table beside her. Lola was ravenous and gulped down the greasy fare in large mouthfuls, hardly taking the time to chew her food.

‘What time is it, Mum? I must have slept all day,’ spat Lola, her mouth still full of soda bread and bacon. Lola noticed her mum shift uncomfortably in her seat.

‘It’s just gone 2pm, love,’ she smiled. ’Today is Wednesday. Wednesday the 16th June.’

‘Wednesday?’ spluttered Lola. ‘I’ve been out of it for four days! Oh my God!’

Lola started to feel a bit hysterical. ‘The girls are heading away today! I... I’ll have to go and see them. What about work? What about... What about Arthur?’

‘Settle down, Lo.’ Lola’s mum reached across the table to calm her. ‘Orla called last night, she said that they would be calling today to see you before they head off to the airport. I called your boss at the paper and explained the situation. He couldn’t have been more understanding. He said that you weren’t to come back until you felt ready. He understands how much…,’ her mother broke off. Lola prayed she wouldn’t say his name. She couldn’t bear to hear it. ‘He knew how much Arthur meant to all of us, Lola.’ The name hit Lola like a kick to the stomach. Looking at her mother’s face, Lola could see the dark circles under her eyes. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days.

‘What about the funeral? Have I missed it?’ whispered Lola. The thought was unbearable. She could sense her mother’s trepidation.

‘Mmmm, no, pet,’ she hesitated. ‘Of course you haven’t missed the funeral. We’d have wheeled you there if we’d had too! But, there have been some, some... complications.’

Leaving the table, Eileen got up to fill the kettle. ‘What is it, Mum? What’s wrong?’ asked Lola fearfully. Lola had known it since she had come into the kitchen. Her mother was holding something back. After the last few days, she could understand why. Her mum was clearly worried that Lola couldn’t take much more and Lola conceded that she may be right. She looked at the dilemma playing out on her mother’s face. Lola could tell that she was debating whether or not to tell her the truth.

‘Listen, pet, why don’t you go and get a bath? Straighten yourself up a bit and we’ll talk then,’ smiled Eileen, hopeful that Lola would accept the decoy. But, before the words had even left her mouth, Lola mounted her protest.

‘Mum, I’m fine! Tell me. Tell me now! What’s going on?’

Sighing, her mum caved in.’ Well, the post-mortem was carried out as usual, but they found traces of some sort of toxin in Arthur’s system.’ Eileen stood for a moment wringing the dish towel in her hands while gingerly surveying Lola’s reaction. ‘They think Arthur may have been poisoned.’

Lola couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her brain felt fuzzy again. She sank her head into her hands, trying to comprehend what her mum was actually saying.

‘Poison?’ questioned Lola. ‘That means that someone must have… What’re you saying, Ma? That Arthur was murdered? That’s ridiculous. Who’d want to bloody murder Arthur?’ Angry tears dripped from Lola’s chin onto the table. It was all too much. It had to be one big nightmare. She couldn’t bear to think of Arthur laying there on his own or how he may have suffered.

‘I’m so sorry, Lo. I shouldn’t have told you this! Not now!’ her mum pulled her close, smothering her sobs.

‘Don’t be silly, Mum,’ said Lola, lifting her head to look at her. ’I was going to find out sooner or later. ‘Was there anything missing from his house? How did they manage to get in past Cuchulain?’ Lola’s head was reeling.

‘We don’t know much at this stage, honey. At first they thought it was… you know… suicide, but the young detective in charge ruled that out. The police aren’t telling us anything. Strictly speaking we aren’t Arthur’s family.’

‘Yes we are!’ blurted Lola indignantly. ‘We are the closest thing he’s got to a family. Who’s leading the investigation? What about the paper? Have they been covering it?’

‘I think the head detective is a DCI Campbell. Your dad is dealing with him.’

Eileen handed Lola the latest copy of the Ballyvalley News. Lola glared at the headline smeared across the front page.

LOCAL COMMUNITY IN SHOCK AT SUDDEN DEATH OF ARTHUR DELPHIAN

Story, by Abbey Williams.

Lola felt sick. There it was in black and white. The confirmation that Arthur was really gone. And, to add insult to injury, Abbey was covering the story, someone that knew nothing of the man. Unable to bring herself to read any more, she flung the paper across the table. Getting up, Lola turned to find her mum staring out the window again, clearly regretting her decision. Beckoning her mother towards her, Lola embraced her with the sturdiest hug her weakened body could muster.

‘I don’t know what I’d do without you, Mum, I love you so much. I’ll be alright. So don’t be worrying. Okay? I just need a bit of time to get my head around all this.’

Looking at her mother, Lola admired those same vivid green eyes.

‘I’ll be fine, Mum, honestly!’ she reassured her, planting a kiss on her cheek. ‘Sure don’t I have the best family in the world? I’m just going to miss him so much.’

‘I know you’ll miss him, honey, we all will. But in time the pain will dull and all you’ll be left with are the happy memories.’

‘I hope so, Mum, I really do,’ said Lola sadly, her mind drifting again, as she suddenly thought about the funeral arrangements, and Arthur’s poor lonely dog. ‘Who’s sorting out the funeral arrangements, Mum, and who’s looking after the dog?’

Cuchulain was Arthur’s best friend and his loyal steed – a giant Irish wolfhound. Lola had been terrified the first time that she’d seen him. Up on his hind legs he stood at over six feet tall and looked more like a small pony than a dog. He’d never been parted from Arthur. Arthur had named him after the great hero of Irish mythology, Cuchulain. When Lola was young, that was one of her favourite stories. She used to make Arthur tell it to her all the time.

There was no doubt that the coarse, wiry grey coat and vast stature of Cuchulain was a formidable sight, but that’s where the menace ended. He was the most lovable dog Lola had ever known. Sweet-tempered and intelligent, he was fiercely loyal to Arthur and those he loved. He patrolled the grounds of Brook Mill Manor with much gusto, immediately at Arthur’s side if any stranger approached. It made Lola wonder how Arthur’s killer had got past him. The dog never left his master’s side.

‘The dog’s fine, Lola. Your dad and Liam have been looking after him. They’ve been helping with the funeral arrangements as well. In fact, honey,’ continued her mum, a look of confusion on her face, ‘Arthur seems to have been very well prepared, he’s done most of the organising himself.’

Lola left her mum in the kitchen and went upstairs to take a much needed bath.