WUTHERING NIGHTS
Prologue
From the journal of
Greta Gardner, February 1978
The boy arrived at
night, wrapped in a blanket. He was carried by his adopted father who placed
him on the kitchen floor next to me. His big blue eyes stared out from under
his wild black hair. He shrank from the fire, he shrank from my touch, yet his
skin was cold as ice…
He arrived with a list
of instructions tucked into the pocket of his jacket.
Eats - mostly chicken
and oranges (likes: roast chicken, blood oranges and plums).
Drinks - mostly water
and citrus juice.
First warning - do not let him go in the sun
often as he burns easily.
Second warning - make
sure he wears his necklace amulet (a parting gift from his biological mother).
He screams if you take it.
Final Warning - do not
let him go out at night alone.
As a small boy (just
walking) he had a tendency to wander off, and many times staff at the orphanage
were unable to find the little fellow for hours. Once, he was found hanging
upside down from the roof of the school gymnasium, like a bat. The only
giveaway was the drip drip drip of juice as he stuffed his baby face with blood
oranges.
His file was then
stamped: Special Needs.
I shook my head as I
read this. I was sure Mr Spencer had finally lost his mind dragging the mite
all the way back from Spain. It was many years before I learnt the full extent
of his malady.
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