The Story Trap: The Sisters, #1

Table of Contents

The Bookshop

A Call from a Stranger

Driving Home

Youth is Wasted on the Young

Bruised Fingers

Stefan

Gardag

Trapped

The Beggar and the Mirror

Witch on the Beach

At the Hospital

The View from the Tower

Visiting Helen

The Spindle

Lentil Soup

Sea Point

Pippa Goes Visiting

Fireside Story

Bees

Waiting in the Dark

Breaking the Link

The Stars

A Bargain

Rebecca Decides

Waking

The Story Trap

Written and illustrated by Masha du Toit

Copyright 2012 Masha du Toit

Book Description

A contemporary fantasy set in Cape Town, South Africa.

One girl's death might save the ocean. But can her sisters let her die? 

Rebecca never expected to meet a witch, least of all in a second-hand bookshop in Mowbray. Surely she has nothing to fear from an old woman holding a box of books? 

Rebecca's sisters, Pippa and Anmarie, receive a call from a stranger: Rebecca has collapsed on a train and is deep in an unexplained coma. They are confronted by a frightening mystery. Her body might be in the hospital bed, but where is Rebecca?

For Brendon

The Bookshop

Rebecca hitched the box higher in her arms and hoped its base would hold. She’d insisted on carrying it herself, having forgotten just how heavy a box full of books could be. The stairs creaked as she climbed. That was part of the charm of the Mowbray Charity Bookshop: the sheer age of the place and the way the rooms were connected seemingly at random by narrow passages and noisy wooden stairs. She reached the top just in time to see her youngest sister Pippa disappear up another set of stairs, up to the attic where the children’s books were kept.

Don’t worry, Bekkie, Pippa called over her shoulder. I’ll find you something special.

"I thought we were here to get rid of books, not get more of them," said Rebecca.

Anmarie, the middle sister, held up her phone and took a picture of Rebecca as she stood framed against the doorway. Well, she said, you are going to need something to read in that new place of yours. Can’t have the shelves standing empty.

She angled her phone up to the ceiling to catch the way the sunlight reflected on the white board, then took a shot of the plants on the windowsill. Still absorbed, she moved out of sight through the door to the next room.

Rebecca wanted to dump her box on the counter, but there was already somebody there: a tall woman unpacking books from a box of her own. Rebecca leaned back against the wall and smiled to herself. It was good to see Pippa so lively again. In the long years of their mother’s illness, Pippa had often seemed more like a worried little grandmother than a teenage school-girl. The trip to the bookshop had been Pippa’s idea and Rebecca had to admit that it had a satisfying symbolism. Getting rid of old books and choosing new ones to go with her new life and her new home.

Her new life. She felt a sense of vertigo, as though she was standing at the top of a cliff with the future sucking at her, urging her to step forward. Life went on. Now that her mother no longer needed her, she had to find a new purpose and plan her own life. It was like enduring the pin-tingling pain of blood flowing back into a sleeping limb.

Rebecca became aware that the woman at the counter had stopped unpacking her books and was turning towards her with an intent tilt to her head, as though she was trying to locate a sound. Her eyes met Rebecca’s just as the box slipped in Rebecca’s arms. Rebecca gathered it up as it tore, trapped sliding books with her chin and with an Excuse me! knelt, and deposited the books at the woman’s feet.

There she knelt, catching her breath. Then she looked up, past the neat shoes and grey skirt, up to the impassive face of the woman standing over her. A strong face, cold, looking down at her as though she were a dog, less than a dog, a thing.

Just leave those down there, deary said the sales assistant from behind the counter. I’ll get round to sorting them as soon as I’m done with these.

Rebecca got to her feet, feeling the old woman’s eyes on her. She felt uncomfortably aware of her untidy hair and scruffy jeans and glanced down at the books on the counter.

Oh!

On top of the pile was a small book with a brightly coloured cover. Thorn Rose, illustrated by Errol le Cain, a childhood favourite. Rebecca looked at the woman for permission and picked it up.

My mother used to love this book, she said.

Doesn’t she love it any more? The woman’s voice was clipped and formal.

Well, she’s, um, dead now, said Rebecca, turning a page and forgetting, for a moment, where she was or whom she was speaking to. How strange to see these images again after so many years. Then Pippa was at her elbow and snatched the book from her hands.

Wow!I remember this!

Rebecca bit back an irritated comment and pretended not to see the woman’s knowing look. She turned back to the other books while Pippa paged avidly and exclaimed over the well remembered illustrations.

Are you moving house? The woman indicated the box of books at their feet.

Rebecca wondered why she felt so reluctant to respond, but Pippa got in before she could frame her answer.

Yes, she’s leaving home. Leaving us! Got her own flat. Hey, Rebecca, look.

Pippa reached between them and took more books from the pile. That book about the robot dogs. And these folk tales look cool too. These are great! We can buy these, right? You can price them now? she asked the assistant, who nodded assent.

Aren’t we supposed to be buying books for Rebecca, not for ourselves? Anmarie was leaning against the door as she looked at the scene through her phone’s camera. Pippa did not even look up.

Oh shut up. You’re just jealous you didn’t spot these first.

She piled the books she had chosen on the counter and was off again to another part of the shop. Rebecca wanted to follow, but felt a hand on her arm.

Wait. Your locket. It’s about to come loose.

The woman was peering at the silver chain Rebecca wore around her neck. I believe the catch is broken. You could easily lose it. Hold still.

Rebecca felt cold fingers brush her skin and then a pain in the nape of her neck. The woman had the locket draped over her fingers. A few strands of Rebecca’s hair curled around the silver chain.

I can fix it for you, said the woman. I always carry some small tools with me in my handbag. You go ahead and browse; I’ll have this done in a moment.

Her eyes were disconcertingly sharp. Owl’s eyes, thought Rebecca, rubbing her neck where the hair had been pulled. She wanted to snatch back her locket and run out of the shop. Not knowing what else to do, she went to the shelves at the far side of the room, reluctant to let the woman out of her sight. What had gotten her so stirred up?She shuddered and scanned the books, but was too distracted to focus on their titles. Silly to get so worked up about nothing. She’s just a harmless old woman.

Where were her sisters?She could not leave without them. At last, she saw Anmarie again making her way to the counter with Pippa in tow.

Better pick your books, and then let’s go, said Anmarie Rush-hour traffic’s no joke.

’Specially not with you driving, grinned Pippa.

Anmarie looked at her blandly. At least I can drive, snotling. Pick your books and let’s go.

Pippa quickly piled her books on the counter while Anmarie waved off Rebecca’s attempt to pay.

Dad gave me something extra for getting my licence, she said. And Pippa’s got pocket money saved up. This is our treat.

Pippa nodded. Yep. You can pay us back by inviting us over for tea and cake at your new digs.

Rebecca felt a touch on her arm and turned to find the old woman holding out her locket.

Hold still and I’ll fasten it for you.

Rebecca held her hair so that the woman could pass the chain around her neck. She tried not to shrink from her touch.

Thank you, she said and tried not to breathe as the woman fastened the locket. She was standing a little too close and Rebecca could smell her. A whiff of surgical spirits and, beneath that, something else: an odour like a fridge that had been closed for too long.

That should do it. The woman stepped away — to Rebecca’s relief.

Thanks, she said again and made for the door, aware that she was being rude, but unable to resist the urge to leave. Her sisters followed her downstairs, and though she did not look back, Rebecca was sure that the old woman watched them all the way to the curve in the stairs, where they were finally out of sight of the entrance to the shop.

They stood for a while on the pavement outside, not quite ready to part. This would be the first time that Rebecca went off to her new flat by herself. Anmarie played with her car keys and Rebecca half listened as Pippa described a book about genetically engineered robot dogs.

And they’ve been programmed to be super loyal, to the death, really. But I won’t tell you more, that would give away the good bits.

Rebecca smiled at her youngest sister and felt the worry surface again. Would her father check that Pippa ate properly, not just slap-chips and two minute noodles? And Anmarie would probably stay out late even on school nights, now that there was no one at home who would check up on her. Not that Anmarie ever listened to her in any case. But that was no longer her problem, was it? She drew a deep breath and hitched her bag higher up on her shoulder.

Okay guys, got to go catch my train. Look after Dad, will you?

Then Pippa’s arms were wrapped around her.

Oh Bekkie, I’ll miss you!

Rebecca hugged her back, feeling the skinny body pressed tight against her. Anmarie was regarding them sardonically.

Such a drama queen. Pippa, she’s not even leaving the city. Admit it; you’re really just glad that you’re not going to have to share a room with me any more.

Anmarie side-stepped Rebecca’s attempt at a hug.

Off you go, big sister. Enjoy your new home. And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

She grinned at Rebecca, took Pippa’s arm and steered her towards the parked car. Rebecca watched them go. Then she turned and walked towards Mowbray station.

-oOo-

The train, when it came, was standing room only. Rebecca squeezed through the usual crush near the doors and looked for a pole she could hold on to. Luckily Woodstock was not far, so she would be getting off soon.

Hey.

Somebody touched her shoulder and she saw a young man indicating that she should take his seat. He blinked at her, half smiling. Where did she know him from? She remembered that look, like a cat curled in a patch of sunlight. Of course. He had been standing in line with her, waiting with her to register for the sound engineering course at CPUT. She had felt remarkably conspicuous, the only girl in the line. He had stood out too. She remembered wondering what he was thinking about, standing there so dreamily while the other boys fidgeted and joked.

Now she smiled her thanks and took the offered seat. Seeing him was a reminder