The Pharmacist

The message on her phone came as a shock to Rachel, jolting her out of her reverie about the meeting she’d just attended. It landed on her phone nearly an hour earlier, so it was pointless to try to return the call and stall her mother’s friend. Brenda would almost certainly be with Alice by now. With a degree of trepidation, Rachel could only imagine their conversation.

An interfering friend was the last thing she needed, or indeed anticipated, and the consequences of Brenda meeting up with Alice could, and most probably would, ruin everything. She listened again to the message, to the barely veiled anger in the woman’s voice and Rachel knew she needed to act quickly. Was it all over, or could she still salvage something of her plan?

Dashing into the pharmacy, Rachel instructed her deputy, Pauline, to take charge for the rest of the day. Without allowing the woman to question the sudden change in routine, Rachel hurriedly left the shop to go to Millie’s school.

In a blind panic, Rachel risked parking on double yellow lines, knowing she’d be in and out before the traffic wardens made their usual afternoon trawl of the streets surrounding the primary school. Impatiently ringing the buzzer on the intercom system, she tapped her foot, cursing herself for not foreseeing Brenda’s actions and being remiss in letting slip the name of the home in which her mother had been.

When the secretary’s voice came over the intercom, Rachel garbled an excuse for picking Millie up early, saying that her mother had been taken ill and they needed to travel to see her. The anxiety in her voice gained her immediate entry and the secretary led Rachel straight to Millie’s classroom, oozing sympathy and attributing the young woman’s detached aura to worry.

The atmosphere in her daughter’s school always brought memories flooding back to Rachel’s mind, memories of Jenny, and those fleeting years of happiness. Jenny had loved school with infectious enthusiasm. Her boundless energy made her a popular child with both teachers and other pupils.

But Jenny had belonged only to Rachel.

Theirs was a special relationship.

At times they needed no words to communicate. The bond between them was so strong and exclusive that even their parents could see that Jenny belonged more to Rachel than she did to them, which was why they had to pay for what they’d done, for taking Jenny away from her.

* * *

Millie looked up from her work as her teacher called her name, looking both surprised and disturbed at her mother’s unexpected presence. It was even more confusing when she heard the secretary tell her mummy that she hoped her mother would soon be better.

‘Are we going to see Grandma?’ Millie asked, hope rising within her chest as Rachel bundled her into the car.

‘No. Now don’t ask questions; we need to get home quickly.’

Millie was used to not asking questions and so sat silently in the back of the car, not daring to tell her mother that in their rush, she’d forgotten her school bag.

Arriving at their home after the short, silent journey, Rachel unlocked the door and headed straight for the kitchen, her daughter trailing meekly behind.

‘I need you to take some of your special medicine, Millie, and you can have extra today as Mummy has lots of things to do.’ She opened the cupboard and took out the bottle of liquid that Millie so detested. It tasted awful and the child knew that it would make her feel quite sick and dizzy. She didn’t understand why she was to take extra but didn’t dare to ask another question.

The little girl dutifully swallowed the clear foul-tasting medicine and went to sit on the sofa as she’d been told, pleased to see her doll Dorothy was there, waiting for her. Millie grasped the doll close to her chest and tucked her knees up, careful to remove her shoes first. Her mother didn’t seem to notice what she was doing; she was busy searching for something, and then disappeared upstairs.

* * *

Within an hour, Rachel managed to pack all the essentials into a large suitcase which she then dragged downstairs. With everything necessary done, she took a last long look at her home, almost certain she would never see it again. It was comfortable and quiet and her life was orderly, just how she liked it. Rachel had always been content there. The trappings of her success lay around her, comfortable furnishings, a few original pieces of artwork, bought as investments, and the expensive clothes she so enjoyed the feel of next to her skin. Now all she could take with her was the contents of one case.

Rachel glanced at her daughter, who had slipped into a deep sleep, and felt nothing. No love, compassion or even pity for the unwanted child.

Lifting the slight limp body, she carried the girl upstairs and laid her on the bed in the little back bedroom, bolting the door on the way out, from habit rather than necessity.

To Rachel’s mind, it was all her parents’ fault; everything wrong in her life could be traced back to them. They provoked everything she’d been forced to do over these last few weeks.

It was only fair they should suffer.

They deserved it.

It was justice for Jenny.

Yet now, things were beginning to go wrong. Rachel’s well-executed plans were collapsing like a house of cards.

Rachel locked the front door and climbed back into her car, setting off in a southerly direction, as yet without a fully formed plan, other than to get as far away from Penrith as possible.

It was not the way events should have worked out and she was angry at the unexpected glitches which had occurred, angry at Brenda, her mother and herself for not anticipating this hitch, just when everything had been running so smoothly.

Rachel assumed the most challenging part of her scheme was over. All the effort, time and planning were about to pay off. But now, it looked as if it was all falling to pieces when the whole matter should have been tidily wrapped up. But she would survive. Life had taught her how. With her natural resilience, Rachel was confident she could start over again somewhere else, this time entirely unencumbered by family.