Collecting Scars Read online
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product’s of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2016 by Tee Smith
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer quoting brief passages for review purposes only.
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To my wonderful husband
for believing in me
Chapter 1
ASHA PULLED THE ROUGH EDGES of her cardigan further around, hugging it to herself. Her mum had always told her to dress warmer for the cold weather, but she figured that’s what mothers do. She never did enjoy the colder weather, preferred the carefree days of summer and spring, but when autumn came and the days started getting shorter and the mornings colder, she would always dread the prospect of the coming winter.
As she walked, something alerted her to a passing vehicle. It was not unusual for cars to be driving by on this road, but this one caught her attention as it slowed almost to the same pace she was walking. Asha chanced a peek out the corner of her left eye to see why the vehicle had slowed. She did not want to draw attention to herself by seeming to be looking at it.
The vehicle was a van with black matte paint, mottled, it appeared to have been sanded recently as if it was being prepared to be re-sprayed. The number plate was obscured slightly by something she could not quite make out hanging over it, but she could see 1A and maybe an F at the end, but it might have been an E. The windows were dark tinted so Asha could not make out any faces, but she could see the outline of two figures in the front of the vehicle. The sides of the van were solid with no windows, and as it cruised slowly past her she also noticed there were no rear windows either.
Something about the van, maybe it was the way it slowed to a walking pace as it went past her, sent a chill twisting up her spine and made her shiver. How odd. Asha walked this road all the time and cars going by had never bothered her before. Anyway, she wasn't far from home now. Soon she would be back in her comfort zone.
As Asha rounded the next corner she saw her roommate Joanie had left the porch light on for her. That was kind of her she thought, it was only six thirty so it was not entirely dark yet, but as the days were getting shorter it would not be long until it would be dark at this time.
Joanie was a good housemate, she and Asha got along well. She was a few years younger than Asha at twenty-four. Joanie had a regular job at the local daycare centre that she seemed to enjoy. She would often chat about the funny antics the children had got up to during the day.
Asha liked children and always thought she would have a few of her own one day. Not for a few years yet, however. Right now she was busy with her nursing career that she had worked hard to achieve. Long hours of studying had paid off when she landed her current job as a cancer care coordinator with the Reinolds Cancer Care Centre last year.
After that, everything seemed to fall into place when she had answered an ad in the local paper for a roommate. The older style home on Fare Street was just two blocks away from her work, meaning she could walk to and from work every day.
That is how she met Joanie. Joanie's parents owned the rental house they shared and the two of them were fast friends. The two of them would often go out together on a Friday night.
Joanie was an outgoing, bubbly girl, the life of the party. She was beautiful, with her slim figure she could get away with wearing what ever she wanted. Long legs, a full bust and gorgeous long blonde hair that always looked perfect, she turned heads where ever she went. Everyone liked her, Asha thought of her as the kind of person it would be difficult not to like.
The only misgivings Asha had about Joanie was her family. Her mum seemed nice, but her dad was really weird. Frank and Mary Duncan would often call in on a Sunday morning. Frank, would mow the lawn or tend to what ever home maintenance was required. Her mum would spend the morning chatting and drinking coffee with the girls.
It all seemed normal enough, but after Frank finished mowing the lawn Asha would often notice him loitering around the side of the house near her bedroom. At first, she thought he was dumping the lawn clippings there, but when she checked that did not appear to be the case.
The boundary fence on that side of the house was close to the outside wall, less than a metre. The neighbour’s house was close on that side too, about a metre away on the opposite side of their fence. The facing wall of the neighbour’s house had no windows. Asha did not know what part of the house that was.
The neighbours, Mr and Mrs Hall had two school aged children. They were not an especially friendly couple. That’s not to say they were rude, if she or Joanie saw them in the yard they would wave and say 'hello' but that is a far as the friendship went.
So it was a mystery as to why Frank felt he needed to spend so much time around the side of the house, but who knew? Asha suspected he might be sneaking in a cigarette and did not want his wife to know. Maybe Asha was reading too much into it. It just seemed odd, that on more than one occasion, she had walked into her room and seen him outside her bedroom window, as if he were peering in. When he had noticed her he had quickly looked away and carried on like he had not been doing anything unusual.
It was not like she could say, “Hey Joanie I think your dad is a pervert as I’ve seen him looking in my window.”
So she tried to put it to the back of her mind and not think too much of it. She just made sure on Sunday morning when she knew they were expecting a visit that she left nothing out that she wouldn't want Frank to see.
As Asha bungled through the door Joanie and her friend, Clare, met her in the entryway.
“Oh, Hi, Asha thought you would be home soon. Clare and I are heading out for some dinner at that new Mexican place. Do you want to come?”
“Hi Joanie, Hi Clare,” Asha smiled at the two women.
“Hey Asha,” Clare replied flatly, seemingly uninterested in her.
“No, not tonight girls, but thanks for the invite. It's been a long day, I was meant to be home an hour ago and I worked through my lunch break”
“Again?” Joanie rolled her eyes.
Clare smiled, Asha got the impression she would be intruding by going out with these two anyway.
“Maybe a rain-check yeah?” Asha asked hopefully.
“Sure,” Joanie replied. “Oh, by the way, a parcel came for you today. I left it on the table by the phone,” she called as she walked through the door.
“Thanks have a good night you two, have a tequila for me,” she called ou
t to them with a laugh, as she walked further into the house and down the hall to where she knew the parcel would be waiting for her.
It was an old building with a long hallway; the living room was just inside the entry. The kitchen was at the opposite end with two bedrooms and a bathroom running off the hall. Joanie's bedroom was the first on the right, across from the living room. Asha's bedroom was further down the hall on the opposite side. Her room also housed an en suite bathroom.
Asha already knew what her parcel would be, it was the new book she had been waiting on from one of her favourite authors. She had been waiting for the second instalment of this book for months and whilst she could have downloaded it earlier on her e-reader she loved the feel of turning paper pages, the traditional way.
In the fridge, she found some leftover lasagne that Mary had brought them on Sunday. She quickly calculated in her head how long it had been sitting there. It was Wednesday now, it probably should go into the bin, but she really could not be bothered cooking anything for herself so it would do. She grabbed a plate from the cupboard and scooped herself a helping of Mary's lasagne, popped it into the microwave and picked up her parcel while she was waiting for it to cook.
Lasagne eaten and shower taken, Asha curled up in bed with her new book within the hour, and although she was keen to keep reading it was not long before she felt her eyelids getting heavier and heavier.
Chapter 2
ASHA WAS WALKING ALONG THE road, on her way home from work. A light rain was starting to fall and she wished she had brought her umbrella, but it had looked like it was going to be a nice day when she left home this morning.
She could sense a vehicle coming up behind her slowly. She pulled her handbag in closer to her body. There had been a few bag snatches lately and she was not prepared to be a victim.
Asha heard the car come to a stop. Within seconds, she could hear footsteps coming from behind her and spun around to see who was there.
“Frank,” she exclaimed. “You frightened me, I thought you were a bag snatcher.”
Frank just sneered with that creepy look, the one he had given her after the last time she had caught him peering in her window.
“Frank, is everything ok?”
“No, you must come with me, get in the car now,” he demanded.
“What is it, is it Joanie? Is it Mary?” Asha asked. She felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach as she turned towards Frank's car. It was then she realised Frank was driving a black van with dark black tinted windows. Just like the one she had seen the day before. Asha looked back at Frank, confused.
“What’s going on Frank?” she pleaded.
“Its Mary, Mary needs you, come quickly.” He was sounding more and more desperate.
Asha slowly and apprehensively walked toward the van, she felt a push at her back and Frank was thrusting her into the van.
“No Frank, No,” she screamed out. “I will not come with you.”
Asha sat bolt upright in her bed, panting heavily, her heart thudding in her chest and skin clammy. What just happened? That was weird. She looked around, taking in her surroundings, she was alone in her room, in her bed. It must have been a dream. She slid out of bed and moved toward the window pulling the curtain back slightly and taking a look out. All she saw was the Hall's fence, she did not know what she had expected to see.
Obviously, her mind was playing tricks on her. She glanced over at the alarm clock on her bedside table which read 1:12 AM. She had not been sleeping well, she never did when she was particularly busy at work. As she lay back in her bed, her mind wandered over the busy week she had. First, there was John who had melanoma, he was only 30 years old. Not much older than her. The younger patients always made her feel sad. She guessed it made her think about her own mortality. He appeared to be coping well with his diagnosis, however his prognosis was grim. It often was for younger people with melanoma.
Asha's role was to coordinate his care and to ensure he attended all his required appointments. She had to make sure all his care professionals knew what was happening with his care. As such she had to liaise with John's oncologist, his dermatologist, his dietician and psychologist as well as his health insurance agency as needed.
What made John's case even more tragic was the fact he had a young family, a wife and two small children.
Then, of course, there were the Arnolds. When she had first started in this role at the Reinolds Centre the Arnolds had been some of her first clients.
Mrs Arnold had been told her breast cancer was in remission and she was discharged from the clinic, only requiring 6 monthly check-ups with her local doctor. Unfortunately, at Mrs Arnold’s last check-up her breast cancer was found to have returned and secondary nodes had now been found in her lungs. She was now back under the care of the Reinolds Cancer Care Centre with Asha, once again, coordinating her care.
The Arnolds were a sweet couple in their mid-fifties. Mr Arnold always seemed very caring and sat with his wife at every appointment holding her hand. He asked a lot more questions than she did and Asha always tried to answer as best she could. He had told her he used to be a police detective, but had given up his job to care for his wife. She supposed that was why he asked so many questions.
Mrs Arnold’s current treatment consisted of several rounds of chemotherapy, anticoagulation as she had previously suffered from a pulmonary embolism, and anti-depressants due to her depression which was no doubt caused through the last few years of battling breast cancer.
Depression was not an uncommon thing amongst the cancer patients Asha cared for and the on-site psychologist was kept very busy, dealing not only with the patients but also the patients’ families. Asha felt Mr Arnold would benefit from visiting with the psychologist, but he would have none of that.
“Psychologists are for pussies,” he had grunted at her when she suggested it.
So she had given him a brochure with some names and some phone helplines should he ever feel he needed someone to lend an ear. There was no point trying to force someone to get help if they were not willing.
Yes, her job could definitely be a challenging one, but she enjoyed it. The staff she worked with were always very supportive, and they worked well together as a team. Not only that, but it gave her a sense of satisfaction to know that even when her patients passed away after a battle with cancer, she had been given the opportunity to make those last months, weeks, or days of their lives somewhat more bearable.
Of course, not all of her patients died, a lot of them were discharged and went on to live their lives, post-cancer treatment. Every one of those patients gave her cause for a little celebration.
Asha dragged herself out of bed and wandered down the hallway to the kitchen. She flicked on the light and grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge. As she shuffled back down the hallway she heard giggling coming from Joanie's room. Obviously, she had not come home alone from her evening out.
Back in bed, she drifted back off to sleep, only to be jolted awake again when her alarm sounded at six am. She grunted as she slammed the snooze button on the bedside alarm, she never had been a morning person.
***
“Good morning Asha.”
“Morning Gemma,” Asha called in reply to the Reinolds Centre receptionist as she wandered through the front doors of her work.
“Going out tonight?” She often went out on Friday night.
“Yeah I think the girls want to check out the band that’s playing at a new club tonight, what’s it called? Ex’s something or other,” Asha laughed a little, she really should pay more attention. “What about you?”
“Not sure yet, I might pop in sometime during the night and check them out too. I can't be out too late though, I’ve got my friend’s wedding tomorrow.”
“Oh, that came around fast hey?”
“Sure did,” Gemma sighed.
***
Friday dragged. Asha made several phone calls to follow-up for patients who were still w
aiting for appointments with various allied health providers. She felt she had spent more of her day waiting on hold than getting any work done. When five o'clock finally came around, she was so happy to be actually getting out on time.
Once back home, Asha found Clare was already at the house with Joanie. They were riffling through Joanie's wardrobe trying to decide what to wear out for the evening.
“Come on Asha, let's get you prettied up.” Joanie was excited to be going out. She had been going on about this band for a while.
“Oh I'll just throw on some jeans, I'll be fine,” she sighed. She was not really in the mood to be getting dressed up.
Asha had always felt like an ugly duckling. She was tall at five feet seven inches and thin, with very little curves. She always thought of herself as gangly. The one feature she felt she had going for her was her long hair. It was dark, almost black, and thick. She found it much easier to handle if she kept it braided, especially for work. She had large round brown eyes and long thick eyelashes that her friends all swooned over. Asha could not see what the big deal was. But she never did need to use mascara, which she guessed was a good thing. Her face was long and angular with a smallish nose and pointed chin. All of which made her feel odd. Especially growing up amongst a primarily Scandinavian European demographic, where everyone seemed to be blonde and blue eyed. She was often teased by the other kids feeling as she did not fit in.
“Aw c'mon Asha, we're getting dressed up...you’ll look hot in a mini-dress. And you never know, you might just pick yourself up a man.” Joanie wiggled her eyebrows at her.
“I don't know Joanie, I haven't got legs like yours,” she sighed.
“Oh rubbish, you're gorgeous!”
“Whatever,” Asha laughed. “How about I wear some black jeans, with a tight top and my new knee high boots?”
“Really? You're not going to let us dress you up are you?” Joanie sighed.
“It's cold out,” Asha cried.