Nemesis


 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 NEMESISHELEN’S MOTHER
 
 
 
 
 
 
 B. KARASINGHE ARACHCHI
 
 
 
 
 
 Copyright © 2023 by B. Karasinghe Arachchi.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Library of Congress Control Number:
 
 
 2023901755
 
 
 
 
 ISBN:
 
 
 Hardcover
 
 
 978-1-6698-8029-5
 
 
 
 
 
 Softcover
 
 
 978-1-6698-8028-8
 
 
 
 
 
 eBook
 
 
 978-1-6698-8027-1
 
 
 
 
 
 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.
 
 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 
 Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
 Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.
 
 
 
 Rev. date: 02/24/2023
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Xlibris
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 NZ Local: 9-801 1905 (+64 9801 1905 from outside New Zealand)
 www.Xlibris.co.nz
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 CONTENTS
 Introduction
 Chapter 1 The Songs Of Serpents
 Chapter 2 The Gifts Of The Devil
 Chapter 3 Underfloor Skeletons
 Chapter 4 Alyssa Does Not Lie
 Chapter 5 Kōwhai Flowers On Beechwood Bushes
 Chapter 6 The Doodle Book Of Charlotte
 Chapter 7 Aroma La Florentina
 Chapter 8 Visitors Unvisited
 Chapter 9 Eyewitness Of The Blind
 Chapter 10 Nemesis—Helen’s Mother
 About The Author
 
 
 
 Nemesis is long delayed sometimes, but it comes in the end.
 —Agatha Christie, Nemesis
 INTRODUCTION
 These are fictionalised versions of events I have seen over my long life.
 One Saturday morning, a foreign couple knocked on my door, stood outside, and claimed that the house I lived in belonged to the woman’s father. I bought the house during a foreclosure process two decades ago. It was a cheap buy because I was able to use my position at a lending institution to my advantage.
 I had a caveat over the property, but after hearing the couple’s tale, I realised it was unethical. My nemesis was in full swing. There was no escape for me. The story ‘Nemesis—Helen’s Mother’ is based on this event.
 The main characters in other stories have similar issues in their lives. But they hide these secrets from others and lead a life of deceit.
 Human qualities such as love, bravery, kindness, hate, and anger are used as deities in mythical stories. Nemesis is the goddess of justice in Greek mythology. She rewards anyone who does good and punishes those who do evil or receive unfair prosperity. No one can escape her wrath.
 We use our conscience to judge ourselves. Our nemesis is nothing other than our own conscience.
 I thank the editor, Barbara Unković, and the Xlibris editors for their enormous help that made this book a reality.
 B. Karasinghe Arachchi
 Hamilton, New Zealand
 
 
 
 1
 THE SONGS OF SERPENTS
 Even paradise had its serpent.
 —Alexandra Ivy
 
 
 
 
 Sara blinked her eyes open. There was a noise outside the tight-lipped door. Someone wiped his feet. The stink of rotten cabbage sneaked through the entrance to the room, and its foul stench packed her bedroom. Sara clamped her eyelids shut as she waited for the noise to die and sleep to overtake her. Instead, the wind hissed over the metal roof like a serpent.
 What the heck is going on? She looked up and around her. Is someone trying to open the door? Who is entering our space? she asked herself. ‘Victor!’ she called out.
 Victor was her husband.
 Victor was not in bed. His sheets were split in half, with one set piled on the floor and the other on the rug. She checked the time; 2.32—before dawn. It was an ungodly hour in the morning. Where had he gone?
 ‘Victor!’ she called him again. ‘Where are you?’
 ‘Victor!’ Sara screamed once more. Someone flushed the toilet. Victor came running.
 ‘What is it?’ he asked. ‘I . . .’ He paused for a second. ‘I just used the bathroom.’
 ‘Bathroom?’ she asked. ‘That noise . . . what is it? That smell?’
 ‘What do you think?’ Victor put his hand on her shoulder and helped her lie down on the bed.
 ‘What is that awful smell?’
 Victor sniffed and looked at the door.
 ‘Nothing. You’re just tired,’ he said. ‘I know you overthink. Worried about nothing.’
 ‘Worried about nothing,’ she repeated. ‘Wish it was nothing.’
 Victor’s eyes were riveted on her. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.
 ‘What is what?’ She sighed and averted her gaze. ‘It just haunted me what your mother once said.’
 ‘What exactly was it?’
 ‘Singing serpents.’
 ‘Forget that nonsense,’ Victor said. ‘You worry too much.’
 ‘Maybe not,’ she said. ‘Anyway, when is Janet leaving?’ Sara changed the subject.
 Janet, the pregnant woman, slept like an unfinished crossword puzzle in the corner room. Her first child was due in three months.
 ‘After the child’s birth, she will finish the paperwork, hand over the child to us, and leave. In three months. It’s what she promised. The child is fatherless. We will adopt him. He will then be our child. It’s the law.’
 Sara sniffed the air. ‘Still stinks. What is this? It’s like a bug crushed under the pillow?’ She gasped and flipped over the pillow and sniffed. ‘The stench of spotted vipers.’
 ‘It’s nothing. There are no serpents here. Please sleep,’ Victor said.
 ‘Who knows?’ she snapped. ‘Serpents are everywhere, in different forms, sometimes singing behind our backs.’
 ‘Come on,’ Victor said. ‘For God’s sake, forget the past. Janet is returning to her previous job in the Middle