A Distant Voice

Published by Evernight Teen ® at Smashwords

www.evernightteen.com

Copyright© 2015 Bridie Blake

ISBN: 978-1-77233-550-7

Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

Editor: Katelyn Uplinger

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

DEDICATION

In loving memory of my grandparents.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

First and foremost, I want to thank my mum and dad for their endless levels of support. I definitely hit the jackpot with the two of you. You drop by if you haven’t heard from me in a few days, you come over to fix things and you let me borrow food from your house. You are both incredibly selfless people who would do anything for your family.

A huge thank you to my brothers and sisters, their partners and all my nieces and nephews. I consider myself very lucky to belong to a family that genuinely wants to spend time together, and does so as often as we do.

I have some pretty cool friends who force me to leave my books and have some sort of social life. Without them I’d no doubt be a hermit, who truly believes her characters are talking to her.

Thank you Tess for always being the person to read over my work first, who sits with me for hours while we discuss my work, who endures every stage of the writing and submission process with me, and who is my go to whenever I need a second opinion. Which is all the time. I’m annoyingly indecisive. Your friendship keeps me sane. And Ruth, we’ve been through a lot together over the last couple of years and our friendship is something I truly treasure. Your excitement over reading this book, and your ongoing encouragement, keeps me motivated when I’m having a bad day. And thanks for being my Nashville viewing buddy.

And yes, this may sound silly, but I do need to thank the creators of Nashville. My obsession for that show, and the music from it, helped create the idea for A Distant Voice. So I’m completely justified in re-watching the show over and over again. It’s all in the name of research!

Thank you to the team at Evernight Teen for turning my dream into a reality. It’s a pleasure working with you and your team of authors. A massive thanks to Jay Aheer for designing my gorgeous cover. And thank you to my editor Katelyn Uplinger for the work you put in. And for appreciating my Harry Potter references.

And last, but certainly not least, a special thanks to you, the readers. I write books hoping they’ll be read and enjoyed. And if I’m lucky, you’ll love my characters as much as I do. I love getting feedback from you all so don’t be shy. Send me an email through my Website, or find me on Twitter, Goodreads or Facebook and let me know what you think.

Happy reading xx

A DISTANT VOICE

Bridie Blake

Copyright © 2015

Chapter One

Violet and a Rose

Two hours ago we passed into nothingness. An endless stretch of road that didn’t make me feel any better about the move. Was it too late to turn the car around and drive back to Chicago? My eyes flicked to the mirror and despair washed over me. There was no turning back.

Strands of hair clung to my neck as sweat trickled down my back. My cheeks burned and the steering wheel was sticky under my clammy hands. It wasn’t exactly how I’d wanted to roll into Wandorah. I silently cursed the broken air conditioner for the hundredth time. Dad could’ve at least forked out the money to fix it before he left us. I played with the little vent in front of me, rolling the dial up and down as though that would magically fix it. With a frustrated sigh I turned my attention back to the road and the farmland we drove by.

Beside me, Mom stared out the window. Lost in her own thoughts and seemingly oblivious to the sweat box we sat in. Finding out Dad had a new girlfriend only a month after he walked out had been the final straw and she’d sunk deeper into her own darkness, unable to pull herself out of bed and provide for us. And now we were leaving the memories of happier times behind us. Those memories that clung to me like a dead weight, dragging me further into my own world. A world that I’d blocked everyone from. Everyone except Rose. My eyes flicked to the mirror again and a small smile tugged at my lips as my eyes met my older sister’s. She nodded toward the empty road and rolled her eyes before resting her head against the window and staring outside.

I’d only been to Wandorah once. We’d come for Gramps’ funeral seven years ago and I didn’t remember much about the place except that I’d really liked Gran’s house. There’d been a porch swing and Rose and I had sat on it for hours making up songs until Mom dragged us to the car. Mom and Gran didn’t get on and the day of the funeral had been the last time we’d seen her. Dad used to tell Mom to forgive and forget but Mom said there’s some things you can’t move on from and having Gran as a mother was one of those things. Mom didn’t like to talk about her except to warn us not to end up like her. A faded country music star whose career had ended in a public spectacle of drugs and alcohol. Rose swore she wouldn’t because her dream was to teach and she had no interest in performing and stardom. Me? I loved to sing and I used to daydream about following in Gran’s footsteps and seeing my name, Violet Hayes, on billboards. But when Rose promised Mom I followed suit because I didn’t want to disappoint them. That had become my own little mission in life. Avoid disappointing the family. Be as good and perfect as Rose. It was something I failed miserably at.

I’d lived in Rose’s shadow for as long as I could remember. She’s the perfect daughter. Good grades, polite, funny, beautiful. And no matter how hard I tried, I never measured up. So eventually I stopped trying and slipped into the background. I was comfortable there. Happy to let Rose shine and follow her dreams because I hadn’t worked out what mine were since I’d sworn not to try at music. Rose would tell me not to worry. She’d say I’d know the answer one day. That was easy for her to say because she’d known what she wanted to do for years. She worked hard to get good grades so she could go to college. But following her dreams hadn’t made her happy. Not once the depression took hold and tore away at her like it had Gran and Mom. It drained the light from her, suffocating it until all I saw was a flicker of the person she used to be. And it scared me because it’d only be a matter of time before it got me too. I was like a ticking time bomb. Only thing was, I didn’t know what the trigger would be.

I saw the fear in Mom’s eyes every time she looked at me. I just pretended I didn’t because it made the gaping hole in my chest easier to deal with. That’s how I lived most days. In denial. Sometimes it made things easier and I could believe that my life wasn’t one gigantic black hole of sadness, disappointment, and loneliness.

Turn off after the truck stop. Mom spoke in a wispy voice that sounded nothing like it used to. Each day it seemed harder for her to speak. Each word a struggle. An exhaustion. She used to be loud, her voice filled with laughter, and it drew me to her even when I resisted. People naturally gravitated toward her as though she were some magnetic force and then it stopped and she became as invisible as me.

The road grew bumpier as we neared Wandorah. The wheels kicked up dust that settled around the car like a blanket and I dreaded the job of washing it off later. I leaned forward and turned the dial on the crackling radio until I found something other than static. I smiled when Dolly’s voice carried through the speakers and turned up the volume. Rose met my eyes in the mirror and she smiled, her lips moving as she sang along. Despite leaving the south behind when she moved away for college, Mom never forgot where she came from. She spoke with a southern accent, she baked pies and grits and fried chicken. Rose and I grew up listening to Willie Nelson, Dolly Parton, and Johnny Cash. We’d wobble on high heels and perform Jolene into wooden spoons and try to mimic Mom’s accent. And then we grew out of it. I started listening to other music and made fun of the way Mom spoke and refused to eat anything that had been fried. Rose hadn’t though. Had we lived down south she would’ve been the perfect southern belle. She was the apple of Mom’s eye, whereas I was simply tolerated.

Mom shifted in her seat and I felt her eyes on me, but I didn’t want to look at her. I wanted to be happy for a little longer before being sucked back into her dark mood. I kept my eyes forward and let the smile stay on my face until we passed the sign welcoming us to the town of Wandorah, Tennessee, population of 5,879. Well, 5,882 now. I fought a shudder as we rolled along.

Wandorah was your typical small town. Not that I’d ever lived in one before but from what I’d seen on television and in movies, Wandorah was exactly what I’d expected. The old-school charm and tidy streets. One main road with the market, a diner, bakery and a handful of restaurants and small clothing stores. Streamers and signs that had Lions Pride written in big gold letters hung from most stores. There was no holding back a groan at that point. I missed Chicago.

Heads turned as we rolled down the main street and I tried to shrink against my seat as their eyes lingered over us and then settled on the dusty station wagon. One lady with a tight blond bun pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes as though our car were a personal insult to her.

Gran’s house was about fifteen minutes out of the town center. A big, beautiful white house with a trellis and the porch swing. It was still there. Bright flowers and green shrubs lined the drive that led right up to the porch. Rose pressed her nose against the window as she stared at the ducks swimming in the pond. This house was Gran’s pride and joy.

A white poodle yapped from the porch as we came to a stop. I peeled myself from the driver’s seat and struggled out of the car, my legs stiff and my back aching. I stretched my arms over my head and yawned loudly, but I lowered them quickly when I got a whiff of my armpits. Damn car. I looked and smelt like I’d been on a ten mile run in the sweltering heat.

Darlings. Gran, adorned in a bright blue dress and a pearl necklace, hurried down the steps and pulled me into a bubble of soft fabric and powdery scents. My face buried into her soft grey curls as the dog nipped at my feet and barked.

Shush, Blossom, said Gran, gently nudging the dog with her foot. She untangled herself from me and ran her eyes from the tip of my head to my toes before she licked her thumb and ran it under my eyes, smudging the eyeliner I’d carefully applied at our last stop. Now I can see those beautiful eyes.

I scowled and tried not to roll those so-called beautiful eyes.

My girls are where they belong. She reached out and squeezed Mom’s hand when she joined us.

Hi, Ma.

Gran’s eyes filled with tears as she took in Mom’s bony frame, tired eyes and unkempt hair. I used the distraction to grab my bag and follow Rose into the house.

Your room’s upstairs. Second door on the left, Gran called after me. Come straight down though. I made pie.

My bag bumped against my leg as I lugged it up the stairs. Ow, I hissed through gritted teeth when I stumbled on the top step and banged into the wall. Rose giggled and waited for me outside our room. I pushed open the door and recoiled at the pink walls and flowered bedspread and cushions. Does she think we’re five?

Rose moved to the windowsill and sank onto the bright pink cushion there. Gran’s got Mom cornered. At least I escaped her critical eye.

Well, we can’t all be as perfect as you.

Her green eyes sparkled as she grinned, bringing life to her pale face. I like it here.

I watched her with a small smile. If Rose was happy, that’s all that mattered. Everything else would fall into place after that. After I’d grown tired of failing at being as perfect as my sister, I’d made it my new mission to make sure she was happy. We’d been here all of five minutes and so far I’d succeeded. Maybe Wandorah wouldn’t be the disaster I’d imagined.

Time for pie, I said in my best attempt at a southern accent as Gran’s voice drifted upstairs.

Rose yawned, her shoulders sagging with fatigue. I might take a nap.

You do look tired. It didn’t take much to make her tired. They’d said that was part of the depression. And the exhaustion had contributed to her taking time out from college.

Have some pie for me, she mumbled as she curled up on the bed.

I closed the door gently behind me and went back downstairs to find Gran hovering over Mom at the table, shoving a fork into her hand and dragging a plate toward her.

How’s your room? She asked as she pushed me into a seat.

It’s fine, I mumbled.

I wasn’t sure what you liked and your ma was vague on the phone but she mentioned pink.

Rose likes pink. I like green.

Mom glanced up and blinked at me, as though only now realizing I sat beside her. You like pink.

I can change it. Carter won’t mind coming back and painting it green or whatever color you want. Gran smoothed my hair down with a soft hand. This is your home now. I want you to be comfortable here.

Mom’s eyes were still on me and the tiny part of me that wanted to make her angry just to get a reaction from her urged me to push it and get this Carter person back to change the color. But I didn’t because there’s a bigger part of me that wished I was enough for her. Good enough, kind enough, smart enough. The room’s fine, Gran. Really.

She smiled and squeezed my shoulders. I have a peach pie fresh from the oven. You eat up and tell me all about yourself. I feel as though I don’t know the first thing about you.

I picked at my slice and sat quietly as Gran rattled on about Mom. So much for wanting to know about me.

Your ma was a real beauty. I’ve never seen a livelier spirit. She had all the boys chasing her and all the girls wanting to be her friend. She gave your gramps so many sleepless nights, but he was proud as punch the day she got crowned homecoming queen. She rode that float like she was born to do it.

Mom’s eyes flicked to Gran and I noticed a flash of hurt cross them before she lowered her gaze again.

You have the same spirit.

I rolled my eyes. Oh yeah, I’m filled with spirit. It pours right out of me. I began to think Gran had gone senile with age.

Bury it all you want, Violet. Hide it under your makeup and city attitude, but I see you. And you shine like your ma did.

I narrowed my eyes at her. I wasn’t Mom and I didn’t want to be anything like her. You’re thinking of Rose. She’s the homecoming queen type.

Gran frowned and reached over to pat my hand. I know it must be hard to live in your sister’s shadow, but don’t let it engulf you. Allow people to see you.

I yanked my hand from underneath hers and pushed away from the table quickly. The plates rattled from the sudden movement. I’m going for a walk, I mumbled and practically ran from the kitchen with my head bowed so she wouldn’t see the tears pooling in my eyes.

The sun bore down on me and after only going five minutes down the road I regretted my decision. But the alternative wasn’t much better. Gran meant well, but I didn’t need to be told what I already knew. Not about me having spirit and shining, because that’s a load of bull, but about living in Rose’s shadow. I loved my sister, she’s my best friend, but I did live in her shadow. For as long as I could remember. I didn’t begrudge her that. Truly, I didn’t. It’s probably my fault that I didn’t shine. God, thinking that made me cringe. I’ve let myself be invisible to everyone for so long that I wouldn’t even know how to stop doing it.

Violet Hayes? I was startled from my thoughts by a girl with dusty blond hair and freckled skin, dressed in shorts and a white singlet and a wide brimmed straw hat. She grinned and showed off a wide gap between her two front teeth. It’s so good to see you again, she said.

I stared at her. I had no clue who this person was. I shrugged and tried to step around her.

Sally Shaw. She ducked back in front of me and pushed her face forward so it was mere inches from mine. We played together at your grandfather’s wake. Hide and seek and then snakes and ladders. You won.

Seriously? That had been seven years ago. The only thing I remembered about that day was being forced to wear a black dress with lace that scratched my skin. And the porch swing. But this girl? No memory.

We had so much fun.

I stared at her again. Was she for real? Who in their right mind would say they had fun at a wake? Seriously! This girl was nuts.

Your gran said you’re starting school with us on Monday. I got Ma to speak to the school and we have almost identical schedules. She grinned proudly. We thought you could do with a friendly face while you get the hang of things.

Oh no, little miss sunshine here thought we’d be best friends because we played together once seven years ago.

Do you want me to swing by and pick you up?

No, I said quickly, almost shouting my refusal.

My brush off didn’t seem to register with her as she continued grinning at me. Right, your ma probably wants to take you being a new school and after everything that’s happened, and all.

My stomach swelled with nausea. I didn’t like strangers knowing about my family’s problems. I didn’t like anyone knowing about them. One of the reasons I’d been fine with leaving home was because I’d get away from people who knew what’d happened. Yes, Rose had depression and wasn’t at school anymore. Yes, Dad left Mom for someone younger and wiped us out when his business went under. Yes, Mom quit showering and wouldn’t leave her room. Yes, we had no choice but to finally take up Gran’s offer and move in with her after Mom stopped working and we couldn’t pay our bills. I was sick of the sympathy and pity in people’s eyes. And now I’d be walking right back into it. Had Gran run around and told everyone to keep an eye on me? Or to be nice and make me feel welcome because we’d had a rough time? I didn’t want that. I wanted to pretend things were still okay.

Sally glanced down at her watch. Woops, I gotta go. I’ll see you Monday, she called over her shoulder as she raced away.

Only if I couldn’t avoid it and avoiding Sally had made it to the top of my to-do list for Monday. Right above, avoid drawing attention to myself. My goal’s to fly under the radar, graduate and go someplace else. Anywhere else. I thought it was a good goal and one I