Angel's Fury by Bryony Pearce

Author:Bryony Pearce
Language: eng
Format: azw3, mobi, epub
Tags: Social Issues, Juvenile Fiction, Violence, Holocaust, Horror & Ghost Stories, Historical
ISBN: 9781405251358
Publisher: Egmont UK
Published: 2011-07-14T23:00:00+00:00

I ache all over. I feel as if I’ve been kicked by a horse. There is blood on the sheets and heavy drops still add to the pool that is spreading from the bed like gravy.

Hair is glued to my face and neck. I pull it free with a gasp of effort and tuck it behind my neck, utterly exhausted. I’ve been in labour for two days.

There is a window next to my bed. Evening colours spill into the room and bring the sound of the farm workers heading home for the night. I lay my head on the pillow, fighting sleep even more desperately than usual.

Finally the door opens and he bursts in, carrying our son in his arms, the midwife fussing behind him.

‘Dean says congratulations, so do all the men.’

I reach up and he hands our baby back to me. I gaze into his tiny wrinkled face, no bigger than my palm, and eyes dark as midnight stare back into mine.

As I awoke the lights came up and the door opened. The Doctor entered the room with eyebrows raised. ‘Well?’

My lungs were so full of tears I could hardly speak. My chest was bloated with the memory of fierce, possessive pride and unbelievable joy.

It was the first time I could remember that I had dreamed of life and not death.

I wasn’t hungry so I skipped lunch and considered going straight upstairs to lie down, but I had another treatment in an hour so instead I headed for the TV room, almost floating with happiness.

This is going to work. I could be cured.

But in the TV room I found Lenny in front of the big screen. Shame lodged in my throat and my elation vanished.

He was curled up in the chair staring at the screen. A packet of Monster Munch was open on his knee, but although I watched him for at least two minutes he ate nothing. The room smelled of pickled onion and B.O.

He doesn’t know it was me electrocuting him. If he asks, I can say I was in therapy all afternoon.

I started to back away but the boy turned his head. Our eyes locked. Caught, I flushed and gave myself away.

‘It was you!’ Lenny pointed accusingly then he snatched his arm back as if afraid I’d grab it.

‘I’m really sorry.’

‘Huh.’ His deep-set eyes were red-rimmed.

‘I don’t know what happened. It got out of control.’

He hunched in the chair as if to make a smaller target of himself.

‘I’m not going to hurt you.’ I lurched forward and he flinched. ‘Stop it, Lenny. Get a grip.’

He scowled. ‘Leave me alone.’

Irritation prodded me provokingly to his side. ‘It wasn’t my fault. It was the Doctor’s research and you volunteered for it, same as me.’

‘I didn’t know what it would be like.’

‘Well, neither did I.’ I glared. ‘It couldn’t have been that bad. You look fine.’

Mama’s boy. The thought blew through my head and the room spun. I clenched my fists, maddened and a little afraid. ‘You’d have done the same if our roles had been reversed.

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