The Wolf Who Cried Boy

7. Diana

But, when I heard the lock click in the front door, I couldn't face Paul. I couldn't face anyone. Instead, I lay down in bed and feigned sleep when my mother entered my room.

Drifting between sleep and nauseous wakefulness, I kept to my bed for the rest of the day. Mum came in every so often to check on me, but I remained in bed and refused to even speak to her. That evening, I could hear the loud happy chatter coming down from the dining room but I stayed where I was. I couldn't face anyone.

Finally, I fell into a deep sleep. But, my mind was filled with nightmares. I stood in a court of law with a judge banging a gavel roughly. Inspector. Bridget stood opposite me and accused me of fraud, theft and extortion. I pleaded and told them I didn't commit any crimes but no one believed me. I was sentenced to death. Paul stood outside my cell laughing at me. He wore a cruel, evil expression and his laugh was also evil. "Did you really think I could have feelings for you?" His cruel words echoed through the cold jail cell. I felt betrayed, used. I cried as Paul continued to cackle.

Then his cackle turned into something like the noise a hyena makes. I looked up and instead of Paul’s face, I saw a hyena. The bars dissolved around me and the hyena launched itself at me. I tried to fight it off but it's jaws were too strong.

Then it morphed into a wolf, howling at the moon through the trees. "Ooooww! Oooow could you believe me, Rosie?" The wolf spoke with Paul's voice. "I lied. I lied to you." And he launched at me again.

I sat up with a start. The sun was just poking through my curtains, showing that it was dawn. But, I didn't care. With four great bounds I was up and in the bathroom near the toilet. I had just managed to bend down and throw open the lid when I was rackingly sick. I wiped my mouth on my sleeve and staggered out of the bathroom.

I hardly registered what I was doing but I eventually found myself in the kitchen. I hadn't expected to see anyone in the kitchen so early. But, there Paul sat at the kitchen table. He just seemed to be staring at the grainy wood of the table.

As I shuffled in, he must have heard me because he turned around in his seat. "Poppy, you're awake. I've been meaning to talk to you. I wanted to thank you for everything you’ve done for me – you know, to help my memory and all. You've been a real bud to me." Paul got up and faced me.

But, the moment he saw me, his beaming smile fell from his face. "A- Are you alright?" He asked looking horrified at what must have been my ghostly-white face. His hand reached out to my arm but I pulled back, flinching at the touch of his hand. Paul pulled his hand away. "I – I'll go fetch your mom," he muttered and walked straight past me.

I heard the pounding of feet on the passage floor, a brief moment of silence and then the sound of two sets of feet pounding and Paul's voice echoing, "She's in here."

Mum came in and immediately thrust her hand on my forehead. She pulled away. "Rosie, you're burning up. Come with me. We'll put you straight back to bed." Mum took my hand and began to lead me.

"Had a nightmare," I muttered vaguely and I felt myself floating somewhere with Mum guiding my hand.

"It's alright. It's alright," Mum soothed as she helped me sit on my bed and pulled the covers up around me. I wasn't sure where I was. My mind was hazy. I couldn't focus.

Some time later, Mum handed me something and a glass. "Take this. It'll make you feel better." She put one hand to my lips and tipped my head back, helping me to swallow.

I wasn't sure how long I lay there but a little while later I heard a group of whispered voices in my room.

"What are we going to do now?" "We'll have to stay with her." "Someone will need to bring her food and drink today. She can't get up." Feed a cold; starve a fever. That's how the saying goes." "No. No. It's starve a cold; feed a fever." "I'm pretty sure it's the other way round." "All she needs is plenty of fluids and rest.” "She'll probably be better off left alone to rest." "What's wrong with Ivy, Mom?" "Rosie.”

I didn't hear anything after that. My mind drifted into a dreamless sleep.

When I woke up again, the house was silent. I heard no mumbling or talking beyond my door and the only creaking was the random creaking of a floorboard. My head still throbbed and waves of nausea still washed over me but I got up and headed for the bathroom. I thought perhaps if I had a nice hot bath and freshened myself up that I would feel better. As the water ran, I stared at myself in the mirror above the basin again. Poor Paul, if he had had any feelings at all for me they would have dissolved at the sight of my pasty, livid white face. I was sure of it.

I climbed into the bath, shut my eyes and let the hot water wash over me. My mind returned to the dream I had had. Was Paul really deceiving me? Would I get it in the neck for trying to help him? Was he really laughing at me behind my back for the trust I placed in him? Could he be in his room every night chuckling to himself about how ignorant and stupid I was to believe in him so implicitly? And what of the wolf? What did that mean? I shuddered at the thought of what my dream might have meant. I felt bleak and distressed and a wave of darkness descended over me.

Realising what was happening, I leapt up. I gasped once, coughing and spluttering the water out of my lungs. My eyes burned from the water and I rubbed it out my eyes. I was drenched from head to toe. How had I managed to fall asleep in the bath without knowing it? I had nearly drowned.

Without pausing to recover I stood up and wrapped a towel around my body. My hair was dripping wet and my chest ached from breathing in water. But, the thoughts that had somehow turned into dreams and had nearly drowned me had also sparked a new thought that I was eager to pursue.

After toweling myself down, dressing and getting my hair dry again, I took the tentative steps out into the passage. I wasn't sure that I was alone. But, surely, if I wasn't alone, someone would have come to find out what my coughing and spluttering was about.

I knocked on Paul's bedroom door then listened carefully. No one responded to my knock. I waited another moment then pulled on the handle. I wanted to prove to myself and to anyone else – Mr and Mrs Valise, my parents, Inspector Bridget – that Paul was a good guy. If I found nothing odd in Paul's room, that would prove his innocence. Wouldn't it? Wouldn't it?

Paul's room seemed slightly more "lived-in" that it had done a few days ago. His bed was made but it was rough. The cupboard door was ajar. And the curtains were pushed roughly back to let in the daylight. Paul's clock read 11 o'clock.

I walked over to his bedside table and began to look in the draw. But all I saw was the little bag that had once hold those keys but which was now empty. I felt towards the back of the draw but it felt empty. Gently closing the draw, I made my way over to his cupboard. I started at one end of his hanging space and felt every pocket in every piece of clothing I came across. You're proving Paul's innocence. You're proving Paul's innocence. I kept whispering to myself to keep the guilt away. I turned to Paul's shelves and began to feel under the jerseys and shirts.

I was beginning to feel like I'd done enough. There was nothing in Paul's room. He was innocent. I had proved it. I picked up the duffel bag mechanically and began to feel inside. I knew I wouldn't find anything and was simply going through the motions. But, then my hand brushed against something. It felt like a little strip of ribbon.

I pulled the ribbon a little, wondering what it was for, and something gave way. There was a panel in the bottom of the bag that seemed to be a false bottom. I pulled the panel up and looked inside. There wasn't much in the bottom – just a piece of scrap paper and a little box.

I picked up the piece of paper and stared at it. It was torn from a larger piece of paper and had a series of numbers scrawled in black ink: 463589160245. I stared at the piece of paper but it didn't seem to mean anything. I turned it this way and that but it still made no sense.

Putting the piece of paper down, I picked up the little box. It was a small box wrapped in royal blue velvet cloth. I examined from all angles. There were tiny hinges almost hidden on one side and on the opposite side there was a little catch. I pushed it in and the lid swung up and over. I gasped.

A ring was placed in the centre of a piece of white satin. It shone golden in the sunlight. The ring was dominated by a large clear gem surrounded by eight smaller gems that together formed the shape of a flower. I examined them closely, unsure if I was looking at real diamonds or the fake variety. On the inside of the lid of the box, I saw the name Diana woven in gold into the white satin lining. I'd heard of the name. It was a jewellery store that sold only the most expensive jewellery on the market. The stones were definitely diamonds. Diana sold no knock-offs. I wondered who the ring was for. Not being able to help myself, I gently lifted the ring out of the box and examined it. It seemed like a normal expensive gold ring and I wondered if Paul even knew that he had this ring stashed away in his otherwise empty suitcase. The cool sun shone on it and I noticed an engraving on the inside of the loop. I stared at it and read aloud the one word I saw. "Rosie."

A key was shoved into the lock of the front door and I quickly stuck the ring back in its box. I stuffed the box in the bag and jammed the panel back. Running back to the cupboard, I shoved the duffel bag in and tried to close the cupboard. I heard the front door creak. My heart stopped. Would I be discovered? I heard people talking as they seemed to be heading across the living room. I hoped that Paul wouldn't come into his room.

The kettle began to boil and I breathed. They were all in the kitchen. I jumped up and headed for the door. But, as I did, I noticed the piece of paper. Dashing back, I snatched the piece of paper up and bolted for the door. I ran back to my room and dove under the covers. I was just in time, as I heard Mum say, "I'm just going to check on Rosie." I shoved the piece of paper down under the covers as Mum stepped into the room.

"Rosie, you're looking a little better," Mum said as she saw me. She walked over to my bed and placed a hand on my forehead. "You're fever's broken, at least," she muttered.

"I took a bath to try and feel better," I told her – avoiding the part about nearly frowning in my own bath water.

Mum nodded approvingly. "I think it worked. You're looking much more yourself." She sat down on the bed. "We were all worried about you this morning, especially Paul. He didn't want to leave." I started. Mum's mention of Paul reminded me of the ring in his duffel bag. But, Mum didn't seem to notice. "Are you up to seeing him?" she continued to ask. "I know he'd feel happier knowing you are feeling better.

I nodded and Mum got up to go and call Paul.

I wasn't sure why but in that moment, only one thought was in my mind. Though I'd had dreams of wolves and stories of serious crime bombard me until I was sick, I put all this down to a fever and a misunderstanding. Paul was a good guy. And secretly hidden in his duffelbag was a ring with my name on it. I wasn't sure if Paul knew or remembered the ring. Maybe he had bought it while shopping with his parents. Or maybe he, like me, had always had feelings he just didn't know how to articulate.

A few seconds later, Paul knocked gently on my open door before stepping tentatively in. "How are you feeling?" he asked. I felt a sudden spark of elation. Yes, Paul hadn't said my name, hadn't said any name, but at least he hadn't called me by the wrong name.

He sat down on the bed, beside my legs. "Your mom said you were feeling better," he said, a gently smile sweeping across his face.

"I am," I said feeling a slight flush coming back into my face but knowing that it was for an entirely different reason.

His smile broadened which made me blush more. "I'm glad. I was worried about you."

He sat silently for a while, looking at his lap though the smile was not leaving his face. "I – I don't know if you remember any of our conversation this morning?" I looked up at him. But, he continued without response. "Of course you don't. You were really sick." He took a deep breath. "I just wanted to thank you for everything you've done for me – you know, to help my memory and all. You've been a real bud to me." He looked up at me as if he expected me to say or do something. When I didn't, he continued. "I know that the old me treated you terribly. I feel just awful about it. But, even though you could have held that against me, you didn't. And now the new me wants to try again." At this, Paul grasped my hand but said no more.

That evening, Mr Sauvage decided to rent a movie. I knew that Mr Sauvage taste was less than ideal and yet as the movie began and Paul's hand felt for mine, I was more happy than I had ever been. I liked the idea of a new Paul. Perhaps the new Paul was like the Paul of my childhood: kind, attentive and considerate. Oh, how naive was I!

As my mind shifted from the man whose fingers entwined mine to the movie, I began to feel uncomfortable. The movie was about organised crime and I couldn't help recalling my talk with Inspector Bridget. But, I'd checked Paul's room, dug in ever pocket and scratched in every nook. I'd found nothing but that beautiful ring which meant that Paul was innocent. He'd done nothing wrong. And soon, the police would figure that out too. They just had to.

The evening wore on pleasurably after I'd convinced myself of Paul's innocence again. My evening of elation was only marred when I got up to go to bed after the movie and Paul said, "Good night, Holly." I smiled demurely and didn't correct him as I wished him and everyone else a good night. But, I heard Mrs Valise lambaste him as I walked down the passage.

Yet, as I got ready for bed, reliving the evening I spent side-by-side with Paul even the idea that he had got my name wrong again didn't deflate my happiness. And I got into bed and began to drift off with a smile on my face that I battled to stop.

My dreams that night which should have been sweet, however, were permiated with gruesome nightmares. I was standing on a grassy hill, overlooking green pastures. Paul stood beside me, his fingers entwined in mine as they had been during the movie. I looked at him and he looked at me. We both smiled at one another. Then slowly I felt him pull me closer. His hand moved from my hand to my waist as he leaned closer. I could smell him warm sweet breath just centimetres from my face. Then his lips gently brushed mine. I shut my eyes as he pulled me close to him.

"I have to go," he whispering, his lips still almost touching mine. He let go of my waist but his hand clasped mine as he walked slowly away. It was only when our fingertips could no longer touch that he turned away from me and hurried down the hill, where -though I didn't think why or how I knew - I knew he had sheep to watch over.

Slowly I turned my back on Paul, though my mind drifted beside him, as I looked out over the rest of the green valley.

But it only felt like a moment before I heard a blood-curdling scream behind do me. Heart pounding, I was suddenly run in. It was Paul. I just knew it was Paul. I came alongside Mr Valise who was also running. "A wolf must be attacking the sheep," he shouted over the rush of wind in my ears. Others ran beside up, with us. I tripped over grass and stones, knowing I had to get to Paul.

Then we reached Paul. And he was chortling merrily. "Ha ha, you should have seen your faces," he laughed. "I was only playing around. There isn't really a wolf."

The others around me started moaning and grumbling as they turned around and headed back towards the hill. I slapped Paul's arm but gave Paul a smile as he continued to laugh and I walked away with the others.

But, I had just surmounted the hill when I heard that blood-curdling scream for a second time. My heart began to pound as I turned around and tripped down the hill towards Paul. Yet again Paul stood chuckling merrily as we all came rushing towards him looking agitated.

When this happened the third time, Mr Valise, who was standing on the hill with me this time, grabbed my arm to stop me running. "He'll be at his tricks again," Mr Valise said in what I considered to be a mellow tone for him. But he refused to let go of my hand. The screaming continued unabated as I stood helplessly, unable to turn and run to Paul.

Mr Valise let go of me eventually and I ran down to Paul. I expected to see Paul's face chuckling again at my desire come running. But, instead I was met by a gruesome image. Paul was encircled by a pack of wolves. I saw their teeth, felt their bodies. Paul lay in the middle. He was drenched in blood. I gasped. He screamed again. A wolf had attacked.

"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I never should have called out. I was only joking but the wolves heard me."

"Paul!"

I screamed. The wolves were dragging him away. I began to run, forcing my way through what had become dense bush. I fought hard to follow.

Then I saw him. Paul. Standing there on another grassy hill, a wolf at his side. But, the wolf was not attacking him. In fact, it seemed to be Paul’s pet. He scratched the wolf's head and fondled it's ears as I kept pushing through the grass. There had to be something wrong. There had to be something wrong. I could think of no other reason why Paul would be standing beside a vicious beast.

"Rosie. Rosie."

I was startled awake and looked up to see Mum sitting on the edge of my bed. The lamp at my bedside was on and it bathed us both in a kind of subdued yellow light. "W- wasgoinon?" I asked sleepily.

"You were having a nightmare," she told me. Her hand was on my head again. "Probably because you have a fever again." I must have looked at her curiously because she explained a little more. "You were screaming in your sleep."

Mum didn't ask me what I had dreamed and I didn't tell her. She simply brought me a large glass of icy cold water and some medicine and told me to try and get some more sleep.

When I woke up again, the sun was giving off its dull winter morning light. I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes. I hadn't forgotten the dream I had had but, like Mum, I put my nightmares down to fever. They were meaningless. They were to be forgotten.

I decided to take a bath before getting dressed and heading for the kitchen, let the water wash all the memories of my nightmare away. When I had finished getting ready and headed for the kitchen, I found Paul sitting in a chair at the kitchen table. He was all alone with a mug in both hands and he looked to be waiting for something or somebody.

I coughed slightly when I entered and Paul started. He turned around as he stood up and his face suddenly beamed, as if a cloud had just cleared away from in front of the bright midday sun."Lily, good morning," he said. "Did you sleep well?"

I smiled and opened my mouth to speak, knowing full well that I was neither going to correct Paul for his faux pas with my name again nor was I going to tell him about my nightmare, when Mum walked up behind me. "Rosie, there you are," she said with a slight edge in her voice. She thrust her hand out and smacked her hand against my forehead. "Mm, you still feel a bit warm," she declared. "Quickly, let's get you back in bed.

Before I could say another word to Paul, Mum had ushered me hastily out of the kitchen and into my bedroom. "I'm sorry to have to do this, honey, but I'm afraid your father and I are going to have to leave you again today." Her voice sounded hurried as she hastily threw my comforter over my legs. "We got a phone call from the hospital in Pietermaritzburg just now. There's been a new development in the case we were looking into. Anyway, they want us to come and offer some advice as soon as possible."

Even as Mum bustled about tucking the comforter around my legs and opening the curtains as she told me all this, I knew it was impossible to ask if I could go along. She'd already implied that I wouldn't be allowed. "That's alright," I said, leaning back onto the pillow Mum had just fluffed. "I'll just spend the day here. I'm sure Paul will keep me company."

"Oh," Mum said. She seemed to freeze for a moment and didn't want to look at me. "I'm afraid Paul won't be around today. He's got to go back to the doctor for a checkup and since we're heading to Pietermaritzburg Hospital anyway..." She didn’t go on. She didn’t need to.

I made a noise that I hoped would pass for approval rather than disappointment. "Is everyone going then?"

Mum looked up at me and nodded. "I'm afraid so. I've ordered lunch to be delivered here at one. I don't want you exerting yourself. We'll be back some time later this afternoon. There's medicine in the cabinet in the kitchen if you have another fever." Her words were matter-of-fact but I could detect concern, as though she didn't want to have to leave me on my own.

Not long after I got back in bed, Mum and Dad said their goodbyes -Mum reminding me about the lunch and the medicine - before everyone marched out the door. I heard the door slam shut after the last person walked out. And then there was utter silence.

The peace I felt in the quiet persisted for a while but I soon grew restless. I didn't feel feverish anymore and wanted to get up and do something. I wasn't sure what I felt like doing and I knew Mum had wanted me to stay in bed so I settled for making my bed. It had been a few days now since I had made vital properly and I knew I'd be more comfortable afterwards.

Quickly, I pulled the covers back and something jumped out. I saw it flutter to the floor. I picked the little scrappy bit of paper up and looked at those numbers again: 463589160245. What did they mean? Why had Paul had gem? A day why were they hidden away in the bottom of his duffelbag?

I put the piece of paper down, trying not to think about the number too hard. But, as I began to make my bed, my mind kept drifting to the little piece of paper. There were too many questions I had to simply forget. I needed answers. But, who could give me answers?

In one instant, I grabbed my coat and made my way out the door.