Discoveries

By Jane Sharkey

Dee's life seemed to go from bad to worse once her beloved mother fell victim to Cancer. alone in the big bad world she closed herself in to her own comfortable little shell and continued to just exist then a surprise gift at Christmas opens up a whole new world but is she brave enough to take it on. new family, new pastures, new discoveries open up a world to her that she never new existed. can she live in this new world or will her inner demons crawl back and claim her for their own or will the new Discoveries ruin the life she tried hard to continue to live in?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jane Sharkey
• Release date: Sep 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310674082

Jane Sharkey

As a single mum of a teenage son and a part time job, writing had always been just a hobby but since i have had positive feedback from friends and other writers i took a short english course and was encouraged to write. i finally built up the courage to go for it, wish me luck.

Book preview

Discoveries

Chapter 1

This is it, this is the highlight of my life.

It’s Friday night and I am curled up on my (might as well be made out of concrete) couch, Salted Caramel Ice-cream and my 22 inch TV.

What do I look like if you picture me in your head? Probably a middle aged woman, divorcee maybe. Or maybe you see a young girl with a highly demanding job and the weekends are my only time that I get to myself and I’m too exhausted to go out and party. Well…both answers are wrong.

I’m 19 years old, I work in a newsagents that is three floors beneath my bedsit. I share a bathroom with 7 other people, (my neighbours) and basically the only reason I am here is because I don’t have the balls to take my own life.

Sorry, I know that’s a little dramatic but that’s how I feel. I suppose I could look on the bright side, I live in one of the best cities in the world, I have very little but it makes my tiny bedsit look well-furnished and I have my health but even I’m allowed to be pissed off with the card life has dealt me, aren’t I?

My name is Deana Jacobs, I was born January 21st 1994 and I have lived alone for several years. My Mother was stolen from me by god, cancer ripped apart my happy little life. It was just us, I have no idea who or where my father is and I have no siblings or any other family well not that I know of anyway. I was 14 years old when my Mother died and I was placed in foster care till my 16th birthday then it was basically;

Oh well Dee your old enough to care for yourself now, have a nice life

Ok fair enough social services found me this bedsit and helped me pay the rent for a few months until I could legally claim benefits. Luckily I found my little job and I now pay for everything that I have, it’s not much but it’s mine.

There are five bedsits in this building and only one bathroom, it’s probably the main reason I joined the local gym. It’s clean, fresh and welcoming and I can shower there as many times as I like but unfortunately when I’m at home and nature calls I have no other option but to use that bathroom. The other residents in this building are selfish arseholes, well most of them. I don’t really know the girl who lives on the ground floor behind the shop, all I know is she has a child and she’s young like me, maybe even younger but whenever I see her whether it’s in the streets or passing each other in the entrance corridor she doesn’t even look at me. I have offered a friendly hello, silent at first you know like a warm smile but her refusal to lift her eyes to mine made it a pointless gesture so I started wording it, getting a little louder each time, ‘HELLO’ I would call but she would keep her eyes low and scurry quickly in to her own bedsit with her cute baby boy in his push chair or if it’s in the streets she quickens her pace and turns the first corner resulting in a swift exit from my sight.

The floor below me houses two couples, one of which are probably I’d say mid-thirties and I don’t think they have ever gone through an entire weekend without a blazing argument that results in slamming doors then the argument spills out on to the street oh and not forgetting their incredibly loud and seemingly violent make-up sex. The couple that live at the back of the building manage a smile occasionally but no words have been spoken.

As unfriendly as they all may seem none are as bad as my next door neighbour, he scares me. He has only lived there for approximately 8 months it was empty before he arrived, he is a taxi driver and unlucky for me and probably the other residents he works from around 8pm till 4am about four days a week then he winds down watching TV or listening to really bad indie style bands from the fucking 18 hundreds from the sound of it because whether its TV or Music he seems to have no volume control or consideration, either that or he’s fucking deaf. Sorry, my apologies but even deaf people have consideration for their neighbours.

He always offers a greeting when he sees me in the buildings stairway or he just happens to be waiting outside the bathroom door when I have been in their getting a quick wash down before bed or in the morning when I get up. Another reason why I save my shower time for the gym. I certainly don’t want to step out in to the small hallway outside the bathroom dressed only in a towel and robe. Not when he’s around. However he doesn’t seem to care about his own modesty. He is usually stood outside the bathroom in only his boxer shorts with a towel slung over his shoulder, his ape like chest and beer belly on full display. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem with a bit of beer belly and a hairy chest but this man, well he just makes me sick and anxious every time I see him. His eyes always wonder over my body when he sees me and well…he’s just fucking creepy.

Right now however all is quiet, my favourite cop show is about to start and my ice cream is causing my mouth to water so I take a huge spoon full. It’s the cheap stuff but beggars can’t be chooser and it suits me just fine.

By 11pm my ice-cream tub is empty beside my concrete couch and my eyes are drooping so I quickly scurry downstairs to the bathroom then take myself off to bed.

My life started off so well. Yes it was just me and my mum but we were more than mother and daughter we were best friends, confidants. I told her everything about my life, my crushes, my struggle to grasp the biology class at school, the time I was pushed in to trying smoking and how I had to run and throw up in the nearest litter bin to the chorus of laughter from my so called friends. I was mortified but I told her all the same. She wrapped her arms around me and held me as I cried. Most people would suffer a punishment for smoking at the age of 12 but my mother knew I never wanted to smoke, she smoked and I always told her how it made her clothes smell and how I worried for her health. She knew I was right but her addiction to nicotine had already taken control of her long ago and it’s eventually what killed her. She knew that smoking experience would be my first and last and it was.

My crush was gorgeous, popular but I may as well have been invisible, my pale, make-up free complexion, mousy rat tail hair and skinnier than skinny frame were no match for the golden blonde haired beauties that ran riot around my school, a click of about 9 girls basically ruled the school followed by drooling boys everywhere they went, I just kept my head down at a safe distance. Yes I didn’t really have many friends at school and my first boyfriend was a boy who I met when I was in foster care, it didn’t last long, my mum wasn’t here to give her opinion on him so I thought it safer to end it and remain alone…forever.

I’m sorry I’m probably pissing you all off. I’m not all misery, well not anymore, not really. Yes I miss my mum and I don’t have much to offer but I do make an excellent friend now and I have awesome customer service skills. I have also bulked up a little and dyed my mousy brown hair a soft caramel colour with blonde highlights so I guess I scrub up a little better and I do occasionally get a second luck off guys, especially at the gym but I must send out a ‘stay away from me’ signal whenever they get too near because my foster home boyfriend so far is my one and only step in to romantic relations. I am still a virgin and I’m quite proud of the fact but I do dream of romance, you know the old fairy tale, perfect man, knight in shining armour kind of romance but so far I’m still waiting.

Although my bed is barely a single its comfortable so I know I’ll drift off quite quickly and have a nice sleep, well at least until noisy bastard next door finishes his night shift.

Sure enough it’s a little after 5 am and I have been woken by bad music from next door, I knew I would, I kind of have a little routine now, adjusted my life to fit around his disruptive behaviour. I shouldn’t have to but I need sleep, I love sleep which is why I was in bed and asleep by 11:30 last night. I do what I usually do and I throw my gym clothes and some fresh clothes in to my bag, I pull on my coat over my pyjamas, head down to the loo then exit the building and across the road to the 24 hour fast food restaurant. I order my usual egg muffin and a large black coffee and I enjoy my breakfast. At 6am the gym opens so I head for a shower, pull on my gym clothes then spend the next two hours working out before returning to the showers and dressing correctly for the day ahead. The gym’s owners are used to my bizarre behaviour and the fact I don’t dress correctly until I have had my second shower, what can I say, I like to be clean. They understand me so you’ll just have to learn to.

I don’t have work today but I don’t want to go home yet either, I prefer to wait until around noon when I know knob head next door will have taken himself to bed. I know you are probably thinking ‘just knock and tell him to pack it in, tell him to be more respectful’. Some of you may be thinking ‘go home blast your own music and disrupt his sleep’ but the truth is I don’t want to speak to him and I don’t want to give him an opportunity to speak to me so my way is the safest and most effective way, for now anyway.

I decide to head to the town centre and do a little browsing. It’s December and Christmas is fast approaching. I don’t really have anybody close that I need to buy for but I do like to buy a little something for my work colleagues.

There is a young girl that does the paper deliveries, her name is Marney Leeson and I think she’s about 14 years old and then I have my boss Norma Dale and her retired husband Albert. They are both in there sixties but they work night and day, even Albert comes in and helps out sometimes since he retired from a management position in business on the east side of the city. Then there is Emma French and Robbie Whitaker who are assistants like me, both in their late twenties I think. We all get on really well and Norma is an excellent boss and friend to us all.

The streets are filled with busy shoppers, glittery images in every shop window. Some places really do go all out for Christmas, decorations will be lighting up the sky once darkness falls but I doubt I’ll see much of it, I like to be safely locked indoors when darkness falls. I have very little trust in this world.

You watch far too much doom and gloom on that telly Norma always says to me Stay away from newspapers too she would call over her shoulder to me as she’s refilling the shops shelves.

I guess she’s right in many ways but my couple of years growing up in foster care taught me three things.

‘Watch your back’, ‘protect yourself as well as your belongings’ and trust nobody’.

But what can you do when you’re sat on the floor in the shop at 5am setting up the newspaper stand for the day ahead, you read the front page news. Granted most newspapers carry the same story just different versions. It’s not like I can totally ignore the daily news but the front page is as far as I go, I suppose that’s a good thing isn’t it? Just like now, walking through the city centre, shops all around, there are posters on billboards, sheets of paper at newspaper stands splashed with news. Maybe one day the news will be good news but for now it’s talking about yet another killing in the backstreets of the city. Yep, another reason for me to be secured behind locked doors by dark.

Of course the winter months means it’s time for home before 4 o’clock but thankfully I had managed to get the gifts I wanted by 2 so it’s just enough time to treat myself to lunch.

My favourite coffee shop is humming with low volume chit chat, there aren’t many people here, just the way I like it. I make my way over to the counter and order my usual cheese and ham toasty and a vanilla latte. Then take myself over to an empty table and await my order.

There are only a handful of people in here, I don’t know any of them but whenever anybody catches my eye I receive a warm smile so I’m perfectly comfortable.

I take the opportunity to rearrange my shopping bags, I have a fair walk before I get home so I need to balance myself out. As usual I have bought more than I should, even took the liberty of purchasing a little Christmas tree and some decorations trying to force myself to get in to the Christmas spirit and I know Norma will go mad about me spending money on her but who else can I spent it on. Technically they are my family and you buy for family, right?

I realise as I repack my bags that I don’t have wrapping paper but I’m in work tomorrow so I’ll pick some up then. A short while later my lunch arrives and I tuck in hungrily. I’d had nothing since breakfast but hadn’t realised how hungry I was till it arrived, I assure you it didn’t last long.

My journey home was cold, snowflakes began to fall but I doubt they are going to stick around for long. I place my bags on the floor either side of me and zip my jacket further up so it covers my chin, protecting it from the chilly wind that bites at me in the darkening sky. It’s 4:20 when I arrive home and scurry up my stairs. I drop my bags in the bedsit then hurry back down a flight of stairs as nature calls. I slide the flimsy lock across for fear of somebody walking in on me, I finish and wash my hands then scurry back to the security of my room. All is quiet in the whole building, at least for now. I switch on some music then begin to pull my items from their bags. I can’t wrap them yet but I can put up my decorations. It is December 20th after all.

My small 2 foot tree is a shiny, cheap but cheerful green, it sits perfectly on my table near the far window of my bedsit. I have three windows all together but buying three trees just seemed silly. I wrap my small set of white lights around the tree first then I hang my pink and gold baubles and angels from random branches before stepping back and admiring my handy work. It’s not much but it certainly injects a little Christmas cheer. I change in to my pyjamas then settle as best as I can on my concrete couch. The snow is still falling outside my windows but the ground is just wet and beginning to look icy. I close my curtains and block out the nasty weather then settle for a peaceful evening ready for an early start tomorrow.

It took longer than I thought it would to drop off but by the time my alarm woke me at 5am I’d had a pretty good sleep. I kick start my daily routine and head to the bathroom, praying the whole time that I’ll be done and back in my room before my freaky neighbour emerges, I washed myself head to toe as quick as I could, I’ll be heading to the gym after work at 3 so I can shower then and thankfully I only had to pass him on the tiny landing outside our rooms. He gave me a leery grin, I gave him a slight nod then scurried in to my room, locking the door behind me. A shiver runs right through me from the uncomfortable second or two then I dress for work.

Norma doesn’t necessarily require us to wear a uniform but all of her staff always wear a red t-shirt and black trousers, we just think it gives a more professional image of the shop. Today however I’ll be wearing a cardigan too as it is freezing outside. There is a very thin dusting of snow still on the ground and although it will pretty much disappear as the streets get busy it is still bitterly cold and obviously working in a shop that has a constant opening and closing of the door makes it rather draughty, despite the heating turned up to the max.

Good morning Dear calls out Norma from the shop counter as she hears me enter through the back door, Hope your wrapped warm it’s a cold one today I grin at her instant mothering then walk through to greet her. Morning Norma, what would you like me to do?

Well papers are all done, shelves fully stocked and ready to go so I guess that means kettle on before the customers arrive in a few minutes

Got it I grin as I slip through the side of the back room and click on the kettle.

A few minutes later, coffee in hand, our first customer arrives and my working day begins.

Our little newsagents is the centre of this small neighbourhood, the majority of it is local council owned so we don’t deal with many high end business people but I have noticed a few calling in today whether it be for something as little as a newspaper and a packet of chewing gum or a lunchtime meal from our sandwich fridge. Curiosity spikes but I don’t think much about it until I am ordered on my lunch break by Norma around noon. We are not near any sort of hotel or business building, they are on the other side of town, a good half hour drive away. We are not on a busy road that connects to the city that they would pass on their commute to work. I still have no answers when I return to the shop so I just push it to the back of my mind and continue with work.

Around 2pm Norma sighs and sits down on a stool behind the counter, just need to rest my poor feet for a few moments dear. While it’s quiet could you do a little tidy up for me please?

Sure Norma, would you like me to make a cup of tea for you first?

No it’s ok Deana, Robbie can do that

I glance over at my colleague and grin at the groan he makes and watch as he disappears in to the back to make Norma’s drink. It’s funny because we all know, including Robbie that Norma makes him make her drink because he hates doing it so much. She tells us it’s her life lessons for us all, the fact that we don’t like doing certain jobs is exactly why we should do it. That’s her logic and we have no option but to follow her lead. It’s exactly why she has sent me over to tidy up the shelves, she knows I usually moan and groan when it gets to the point where I need to tidy up the fridge, I hate doing it, it’s too cold and my fingers go numb but whether I like it or not it has to be done and yes I suppose she is right, it’s life so you just have to get on with it.

There is only Norma, Robbie and I on duty today, Albert is away for a few days and its Emma’s day off. We are a good team regardless of what mix we’re in but I do love it when I work with Norma, she’s so sweet and calms me instantly, I feel safe just like I did with my mother.

Robbie emerges and lifts a cup to show me he has made me a drink as well as himself and Norma and its perfect timing because we now have a neat and tidy fridge and my fingers are numb.

So you two, what are your plans for Christmas dinner? queries Norma as she cradles her cup

I’m going to my Dad’s, my big sis is in town with her kids. I’m spending boxing day with mum this year instead

Norma smiles and turns her eyes to me,

I err…

You’ll have it with us Deana, I’m telling you the same as I told you last year I will not have you alone on Christmas day and before you start no it isn’t a problem, we’d love to have you

I open my mouth to speak but the bell goes on the door so I have to turn my attention to our customer. It’s another hour before we get to speak to each other again but I save my breath regarding Norma’s invite, I won’t win the argument and if I am honest I’m thrilled that she’s asked me to join them. I really didn’t fancy being alone at Christmas.

Chapter 2

Before I know it its Christmas night and I am making my way home from Norma and Albert’s home after yet another wonderful Christmas dinner. Turkey dinner with all the trimmings cooked to perfection, a small gift bag filled with little but thoughtful gifts. A gorgeous oil painting of a sunset painted for me by Albert and a gorgeous hand knitted teddy bear made by Norma and of course a box of chocolates. Such sweet gifts and I know I shall cherish them. It starts me reminiscing about Christmases with my mum, she was never the greatest cook but she always tried her best to make Christmas as traditional as possible, always making my gifts for me and always made sure we had a black forest gateau for afters. We didn’t have much money but Christmas was always a joyous occasion, I really miss her, especially times like this.

I have broken my own rules today, it’s almost 7pm and I’m walking home in the dark. I focus myself on my walk home, pushing my memories of my mother to the back of my mind, I’ll save them for later but right now I need to keep my wits about me.

As you know I have no faith in humanity, in life, it’s just so risky and yes I do wish I could be more relaxed but I simply can’t. the street I’m walking down is coated in snow so it seems lighter than it is but it is just the street lights reflecting off the pure white of the snow, every car that passes me catches my attention, scanning faces as best as I can as it speeds past me spraying slush behind them leaving filthy brown sludge as it goes. The snow is still falling and in a way it’s so pretty but I just want to be home. Just 3 more streets to pass Dee I console myself as I quicken my pace and lift my collar higher to help shield me from the bitter wind. Albert offered to walk me home, almost insisted but I refused, as scary as the world is to me I know I could outrun any threat more than he could, no disrespect but just climbing the step ladder in work can make his elderly bones creak. Ever since my Mothers’ death I have worried about who could be watching me, who could hurt me, my protective barrier stolen from my life, I’m not crazy, I know it is more than likely paranoia but I just can’t help it. It feels like everything around me has eyes and they are watching my every move.

"Ahhh finally my street, my bedsit in my sights. The street is eerily quiet, a handful of cars parked up and settled for the night. Most I recognise, some I don’t but I just scurry to my doorway and hurry up to my room. I unlock my door with a sigh of relief and step on a small parcel that has been posted, I close the door behind me then lift it from my mat,

Deana Jacobs

Merry Christmas

I stare blankly at the short but to the point printed label, there’s no sign of postage, I mean why would there be its Christmas day but it just worries me further, no postage means hand delivery.

I drop it on to my small table by my window then pull all my curtains closed, I feel exposed as though somebody is watching me then I sit at the table and stare once again at the simple label on the small brown package.

My mind floats back again to my happy days with my mother, she had a fascination for detective and federal agent movies, TV series anything to do with the law and the big bad world. It’s why I love them so much now. I would spend endless hours sat next to my mother, my legs tucked beneath me and a hot drink cradled in my hands, both of us taking guesses at who the bad guy was and usually drooling over the strong handsome hero of the program. It is probably why now I am staring at this package, too afraid to open it, my faith in this world is bad enough without strange brown packages being posted through my door all it spells out to me is danger and all those endless programs and movies have done is fill my head with negative scenarios.

I slide it away from me and walk over to my tiny kitchen, I click on my kettle and drum my fingers against my work top as I wait for it to boil. I honestly don’t know what to do all I can imagine is the sound of a ticking bomb or a deadly powder, ridiculous yes but true.

I spend the next hour pretending that it’s not there, I’m sipping at my Luke-warm brew and staring at the blank screen of the TV. After a quick trip to the bathroom I switch off all my lights and climb in to bed, yes the package is still there, yes it is still ticking in my imagination but I just can’t deal with it right now.

Sleep is in short bursts as I am sure you can imagine with my head as screwed as it is and before I know it I can hear him next door returning from work and new fears ripple through my veins. Frustrated with myself I climb out of bed and rip open the package. I am sick of being afraid, sick of being held hostage to my past.

Beneath the brown paper is a mahogany wooden box, on the front is a diamond shaped emblem, like a crest of some sort with the initials B.E.R engraved in the centre, I find myself tracing my finger along the smooth carved lines and curves of the emblem, mesmerised by its beauty. I don’t think I have ever seen anything like it before but for some reason it seems familiar. I search my head trying to work out where I could have possibly seen this emblem before or maybe something similar. I drag out a box from beneath my bed with memories in it and find a picture of myself