The Pulse Pt. 09

My grin was as wide as the cheshire cats. I had been genuinely scared going into this and I was still buzzing now that it had gone well.

"Let's clean up and drive over near to the Tool's house and see if you can find something out."

I lifted her onto my lap and kissed her thoroughly, trying to show my appreciation for her. She kissed me back enthusiastically. As my hands started to wander she slapped them away, smiling.

"Come on Jake. Let's get cleaned up and try this."

We were in the car less than thirty minutes later heading for the Youle's place. On the way there we stopped off for some fuel at the garage and picked up more sweets and breakfast bars to help provide some fuel.

"Got a kids party 'ave ya?" said the man behind the counter as he looked at the pile of sugary treats laid out in front of him. The tray of Krispy Kreme doughnuts was probably a step too far, but what the hell?

I had a vague idea where Harry Youle lived. I knew it was in a posh neighbourhood and I figured that once I scryed on him, if I felt that we were too far away then we could always move closer.

I found a nice leafy cul-de-sac where I guessed their house was. There wash plenty of space between the drives of the large detached houses and my little mini took up next to no space. We parked up out of the way under a large oak tree.

I ate as many doughnuts and sweets as I could stomach and then put the seat back so that I could be as comfortable as possible.

"You need to keep talking to me Fiona."

"I know, I know. And you'll tell me if you start to project yourself?"

"Yes. Let's hope that we learn something and I don't just find him masturbating in his room."

I lay back, relaxed and focused on the loathsome Youle.

Pulse.

I was drawn a short distance down the leafy cul-de-sac and across to the next road, maybe two hundred yards away. The house was a large seventies style place with white UPVC cladding across the upstairs and red brick on the ground floor. The garden was large and mature with a gravel drive and two cars parked there. As I hovered closer to the house I wondered why I wasn't drawn inside the building like last time. Then I saw the Tool getting out of a smart looking Golf GTi. He slammed the door and stomped his way into the house.

I followed along behind.

"Have you found him?" said Fiona.

"Yup, he's just got home and he doesn't look too pleased."

He ignored an attempt to speak to him from a woman who I assume was his mother as he entered the house, slamming his keys on the hall table and stomping up the stairs. She shook her head, obviously all too used to the mannerisms of her son. Poor woman.

He slammed the door in my face as he went into his room and I floated through it into a large bedroom. It was painted black with various band posters on the walls and clothes strewn over the floor. There was a large built-in wardrobe and a desk with a PC on it near the window. The bed was huge and he threw himself onto it, obviously frustrated about something.

I was so tempted to project myself into the room to try and find out what had annoyed him so much but I knew that I'd only get one shot at this so I just observed.

"Well?"

"He's just on his bed, pissed off about something."

He didn't do much for a while, picking up a comic and then throwing it back down on the floor. Getting up and walking around the place before throwing himself back on the bed. It was a study in teenage angst.

After a while he looked towards the door and his trademark sneer appeared as he shouted something fairly unpleasant at whoever had dared to interrupt him. Looking at his bedside alarm it was one o'clock. Maybe his mother had asked him about lunch..?

He got up, went to his desk and opened the top drawer on the right, lifted a couple of things up (books? papers?) and then shut the drawer and left the room. That was weird. Rather than follow him I decided to gamble.

"I'm going in, Fiona."

PulsePulsePulse

I felt my body breathing in and breathing out. I regulated it with my mind as I pushed myself into Harry Youle's room and pulled open the drawer that he'd opened. I clumsily tried to pull out the items inside but it was much harder than I thought it would be. I tried again and managed to lift the scattered papers that were inside. The only thing underneath them was an old exercise book. Disappointed I zoomed in on the papers but they were a random assortment of university rejection letters.

I tried to pick up the exercise book and managed to get it out of the drawer on the third try. I was very conscious of time now. What if he'd just gone to the toilet? Why did that only occur to me now? Why hadn't I checked that he was going downstairs to lunch?

I opened the book very carefully, slowly figuring out the fine motions that I needed to make this work. It was an old English exercise book with all sorts of doodles and margin sketches along with the actual work that we'd had to do back at GCSE in the fifth year. I flicked across the pages and got to the middle when I suddenly saw a series of familiar girls' names and then a scribbled paragraph next to each name. Intrigued, I scanned through them. They all related to the rumours about me!

Holy shit! He'd actually written it down!

There were some elaborate sex fantasies intermingled with each of the stories that they'd fed the in-crowd with to frame me. I was reluctantly impressed at how each of the stories were slightly different, giving each new person a different bit of gossip to pass on but keeping the core stuff the same and reinforcing the lie.

He'd obviously got off on the rape idea and had written down in detail what he'd do to each and every one of the people that I was supposed to have raped. It was an unpleasant insight into the world of Harry Youle.

I looked up from the book and remembered to check on my vitals. My breathing and everything was fine. I dizzily came back into my projection and wobbled briefly before I was able to focus again.

I heard a loud, obnoxious voice coming from downstairs and I suddenly realised that he was coming back. I carefully closed the book and was about to try and put it back when I realised that I probably couldn't do it in time. Panicking, I looked around and saw that the window was open. I threw the book out of the window, praying that there wasn't a water feature outside and closed the drawer just as the door opened and Harry noisily banged his way into the room with a plate piled high with toasted sandwiches and crisps.

"Stupid fucking woman! I said cheddar not red leicester! Dumb fucking slag."

He sat down at his desk and started eating his lunch, sending crumbs and crisps everywhere.

Part way through his lunch he leaned back and reached for the drawers in the desk. Much to my relief his hand went to the bottom drawer and pulled out a copy of Razzle. He flicked through the porn mag to a spread featuring a particularly large breasted woman and pulled his cock out of his shorts.

I'd seen about enough at this point and cut the threads surrounding my projection. I was slightly dizzy as I became a disembodied viewer once more and quickly soared out of the window and down to the back garden. The exercise book was in a flower bed near a water butt at one end of the house. It wasn't particularly obvious but it wasn't well hidden either. Carefully marking the spot I cut the thread and was back in the Mini with Fiona looking at me anxiously.

"Four minutes thirty five seconds Jake! What were you thinking? Are you OK?"

I took a few deep breaths before answering.

"I think so. Are there any more of those doughnuts? I'm feeling a bit sick."

"Here."

Chocolatey goodness exploded in my mouth and I slowly started to feel a semblance of normality. I opened a bag of jelly babies and had probably eaten half of them before I was ready to try sitting up.

"Well?!" Fiona had done so well to wait, but she was obviously bursting to know what had happened.

"I've found proof."

"You've what?"

"The stupid fucker wrote it all down."

"You're kidding?!"

"Nope. It's in an exercise book."

"But how do we get it?"

"I threw it out of the window. It's in their back garden."

"Shitshitshit! What are we going to do? We can't just go in there and get it."

"Why not?"

"Why not? Well because we'll be seen...won't we?"

"I don't think so. Come on, we haven't got much time. He checked to make sure that it was there when he got back in the house. Who knows how often he checks on it?"

"What are you going to do?"

"Walk in and get it."

She looked like she was about to explode but instead she put on her seat belt as I belted myself in and we drove around to the Youle's road. Their house was on a corner plot with large gardens on either side. I parked two doors down and got out of the car.

"Keep the engine running and be ready to drive."

"Are you sure about this?"

"I'm mental, remember?"

Fiona laughed nervously at my lame joke and nodded, as she slipped into the driver's seat and buckled up.

I walked up to the large hedge that bordered the two properties. Making sure that I was on the right side of the house, I ducked in behind it. The biggest issue was probably the neighbours in an area like this rather than the Youles themselves.

There was a large rhododendron in the middle of their lawn. I ran over to it and pulling the branches aside made my way into the cover that it provided. The house was no more than thirty feet away. I was near the corner.

PulsePulse.

Red and purple power extended from me as I reached for the book. I found it easily enough and then realised that it was heavily overlooked by windows from the kitchen where Mrs Youle was washing up and the Tool's room above it where, presumably, he was throwing some kleenex in a bin.

Pulse.

Green power was added to the mix. I used red power to pick up the book and then did everything I could to blur the book from sight using the green power as I pulled it towards me. I blended the colours of the grass and bushes that it passed. In hindsight it was a pretty poor effort. It looked like a bad version of the predator's camouflage going through the jungle but it was my first attempt.

The book slapped into my hands in mere seconds.

I was about to leave the rhododendron when I saw a little old lady talking to a panicked looking Fiona in the car.

Pulse.

I rushed back across the garden and mentally 'paused' the old lady. It's the only way that I can describe it.

"What did you tell her?" I asked.

Fiona looked at the old lady who looked like a waxwork model.

"That you were here to see a friend."

"OK."

I reinforced the story to the old lady that we had been checking up on our friend and that all was well. She should go and have a nap in front of Antiques Roadshow in her front room and definitely not write it down in her Neighbourhood Watch book.

She turned slowly and wandered back in a bit of a daze towards her house.

"I've got it. Let's go!"

Fiona did an easy u-turn and we were away back down the road, the precious book safely in hand.

= = = = = = = = = =

"What do you mean you've lost it? What have you lost, Harry?"

"The book, my story log!"

"What are you talking about?"

"My log so that I knew what I'd said to who about Jake Fucking Conway."

"You wrote down what you told people?!?!"

"I didn't want to get confused. You said that.."

"Fuck what I said! What have you done with that book?"

"It was in the drawer of my desk. I checked it earlier today and it was right there and now it's gone."

"How can it be gone if you've been in your room all afternoon?"

"I don't know, I don't know!"

There was silence at the other end of the line.

"Jenny?"

"Find that fucking book Harry. If that thing turns up then I'm denying all knowledge. You're on your own if that happens do you hear me?"

"Ye..."

The line went dead and Harry suddenly needed to go to the toilet very badly.

= = = = = = = = = =

Celia Sawyer heard her daughter's mood from the other side of the house. She frowned and then quickly smoothed her expression, only too aware of what frowning does to the skin.

Her daughter had been borderline insufferable for the last week or so and it looked like today would be no exception. This whole idea with the wretched poor boy seemed so simple. Feather and tar him and then simply move on with our own perfect lives. Was it too much to ask that he just curl up in a corner like a good little prole?

She continued arranging the flowers as she awaited the inevitable explosion from upstairs.

"Mother!"

She sighed, thinking that maybe putting up with a bit of rough might have been easier.

"I'm not sure that the neighbours heard you darling."

"Harry's a complete twat."

"I know sweetheart."

"What do you mean, you know?"

"I assume that he's been an interesting dalliance, darling. I'm not sure what you see in him but he's far from your equal. I'm glad that you've realised it."

"What?"

"He did make rather a fuss when he left earlier on today. He didn't even stare at my tits, which is most unlike him. What happened?"

Jennifer stared open mouthed at her mother.

"Not your most attractive look."

Celia reached forward and closed her daughter's gaping mouth and carried on arranging the gerberas to her satisfaction.

"So what happened?"

"He...he...said that I was frigid."

"And...?"

"Well, you've seen him, he's not half the man that..." and Jennifer clamped her mouth shut realising that she had already said far more than she'd meant to.

"That Jake is?"

Jennifer nodded, embarrassed.

"I wouldn't let Harry near me. He gave me the creeps."

"Then why have you been seeing him these last few weeks?"

"Because he called...about something and...well we had a mutual reason to spend time together."

"Meaning that he hates Jake as much as you do?"

"What does that mean?"

"For someone that spends this much time dancing around not saying someone's name, something pretty bad must have happened. I know he hurt you sweetheart. And I know what you and Harry cooked up."

Her daughter gawped at her.

"I even got your father to help things along at the golf club. Spreading a few salacious rumours about a teenage party that got out of hand. Date rape drugs. Just enough to get the rumour mill going but nothing that could come back to us."

She crossed to Jennifer and took her hand in hers, looking her straight in the eye.

"Nobody hurts a Sawyer and gets away with it."

Celia turned back to her flowers.

"So why don't you just jettison this Youle no-hoper and find yourself someone worthy of you?"

"The idiot wrote it down."

"Wrote what down darling."

"The rumours that we spread about Jake Conway."

"Oh."

"Yes."

"I assume that you have it under control? We can't have this coming back to us darling."

"I know mummy, but...surely we can just deny it and leave Harry out to dry if it does come up?"

Celia rounded on Jennifer like a snake on a rat.

"Then how do you explain the golf club rumours? How do you stop someone from shopping your father to protect themselves? How do you disassociate Harry the idiot Youle from us when he's been here so often that even our next door neighbours thought that we had a new car? Please tell me that you weren't just hoping that this would go away?"

Jennifer put her head in her hands.

"What are we going to do?"

"Whatever it takes to protect the Sawyer name."

= = = = = = = = = =

We drove away from the library with three sets of photocopies of the contents of the exercise book. We'd worn gloves as much as possible when touching it but I didn't dare wipe off any fingerprints for fear of wiping off Youle's own prints. I made a stop at WH Smith's for a brown A4 envelope and then drove to the police station.

I was about to get out of the car and head inside when Fiona stopped me.

"Jake, have you thought this through?"

"What do you mean? It's evidence, the police need it to clear my name."

"I know they do but what are you going to say when they ask you how you got hold of it?"

"That...it was sent to me in the post anonymously."

"Then where's the envelope that it came in? They'd want that wouldn't they?"

"I threw it away...?" Even as I said it I realised how lame it sounded. "Shit."

"Sweetheart, you've done amazingly to get hold of the book but don't you think we should show this to Mr Lathan and ask him how we can do this without incriminating ourselves?"

I sat back in the driver's seat, every part of me desperate to have this thing over with. Itching to do something now that I had salvation in my hand. A long moment passed as I considered what she'd said.

"You're right. You are so right. What would I do without you?"

"Run into the occasional brick wall. Have less sex..."

I grinned at her as she took the sting out of the situation effortlessly.

"You're amazing."

I leaned over and kissed her.

"And don't forget it!" she said, smiling at me with mock indignation.

We drove home. Fiona wanted to go swimming so I dropped her at the pool and collected her an hour later. I spent the rest of the time giving my car some TLC.

When she got back Fiona insisted that she would cook that evening. When I went back into the house I found a bombsite in the kitchen. She looked panicky as she saw me.

"How long have I got before your parents get home?"

"I don't know. Maybe fifteen minutes, why?"

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"

"What? What is it?"

"I wanted to make fresh pasta but it hasn't worked! And look at the mess! I'm never going to be able to get this done in time!"

"Why are you making fresh pasta? We've got dried stuff in the cupboard."

"I just wanted to do something nice for your parents."

"Well the sauce smells amazing. What's wrong with the pasta?"

"It's too thick! It goes all doughy and horrible."

I had a dig around in the cupboards and pulled out Dad's old pasta machine. I'd only ever seen him use it once and it had slowly migrated from the kitchen surface to the back of a cupboard as we all realised what a faff it was to make pasta.

"Try this."

Fifteen minutes later Fiona had beautiful strips of linguini ready to go into the boiling water and I had just about finished clearing up the colossal mess that she'd made.

We heard a key in the lock and saw my parents come through the door chatting to each other, both looking tired and drawn after difficult days at the office. They both perked up noticeably at the smell from the kitchen.

"Jake? Have you been cooking?"

"Not me Dad. My domestic goddess has."

"Fiona? I had no idea. This smells sensational."

"It'll be ready in five minutes if that's alright," said Fiona.

"But won't the pasta...wait a minute, is that fresh pasta?"

Fiona was so proud she was fit to burst. She just nodded.

"Well, I will be waiting in anticipation!" Dad went off upstairs to change.

Fiona had outdone herself. The creamy chicken linguine was amazing and she'd even found some frozen garlic bread at the back of the freezer. We all happily discussed our day and complemented the chef on the amazing food.

"I know I've been a nuisance so I just wanted to help out."

Mum sighed.

"Fiona love, I don't know how many times we have to say it: You're welcome here as long as you like. You're a breath of fresh air and we love you to bits."

"I'm going to miss food like this when I move out next week," said Dad.

"You've got a date then?"

"Yes indeed. Next Thursday, So Jake, if you're free I'd appreciate a bit of help moving if that's alright."

"Of course Dad, whatever you need."

He smiled. Mum looked pleased as well. For all that the last few weeks had been better between them, I realised that this still needed to happen. It didn't feel any better though.