The Line That Holds The Kite

by J E McDonald

  Copyright 2021 by J E McDonald

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written consent/permission of the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Editing by Michael

  Cover design by Lydia

  Proofreading by Michael, Megan, Jennie.

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank my best friends Megan and Jennie who were my very first readers and biggest supporters.

  My Author friend Lydia Goodfellow who helped me so much with the kindle publishing route, she is also my illustrator as I wouldn’t have my book cover without her!

  I would like to thank my family who always encouraged me to just type instead of talking about the what ifs!

  Finally, I would like to thank my partner Michael who told me to not give up and helped encourage me to follow my dreams. My biggest support and was my proof-reader who helped correct any mistakes I made along the way.

  To have a book published has always been my life-long dream!

  The Line That Holds

  The Kite

  Written by

  J.E.McDonald

  Chapter one - Nathan

  I sit on a white leather sofa, in my mother’s white living room, staring at a white wall. She’s been screaming at me with that fucking high-pitched voice that grates on me for the past forty-five minutes.

  That screech is one of the many reasons I moved out of this house six months ago.

  I hate everything about this house, the sounds of Jack’s Xbox coming through my bedroom wall, the smell of air freshener my mum drowns the place in, everything.

  I just couldn’t tolerate it anymore, so I packed a bag and walked out in April. I’ve been living with my best mate Ryan ever since. But after tonight, I won’t be staying at Ryan’s place again.

  “Nathan, will you answer me? Stop staring at the wall and look at me!” My mother shrieks.

  “For fucks sake mum, stop screeching at me with that voice.” I snarl back at her.

  “What happened Nathan? And don’t give me that rubbish you told the police either, I want the truth, now!” my mum snaps back.

  “He’s dead! What else do you want me to say? That bastard stabbed him to death in the fucking street and I never got to him in time to help him,” I watch my mother flinch as I scream back at her, digesting my words. I’m sitting in my mother’s house, covered in Ryan’s blood. If I wasn’t told by the wanker of a detective to stay here until they can rule me out as a suspect, I would be driving around London like a lunatic.

  “This is the last straw Nathan, I can’t worry about you anymore, thinking that the next time the phone rings, it will be the police telling me it’s you that has been stabbed or killed, I’m sending you and Jack to live with your dad,” my mother is deflated, I can see it, she’s had enough of my shit. I honestly don’t blame her, I’m a fucking nightmare, but the words that have just come out of her mouth boils my blood.

  “Am I fuck going to live with that twat! You can’t be serious? I’m nineteen, you can’t tell me what to do!” My words are like acid coming out of my mouth. She of all people knows how much I despise that man, sending Jack with me isn’t going to change anything. I love my little brother and I’d protect him with my life but he’s the complete polar opposite of me. He is shy and quiet; I am sarcastic and angry.

  “You don’t have a choice Nathan, I’ve already arranged everything with Mike, as soon as your name is cleared in the investigation, you and Jack are flying out, it is what’s best for the both of you.”

  My mother is a beautiful woman, thick blonde hair, blue eyes and considering she is forty-four and had pretty much a dog’s life with my dad, she hasn’t got a wrinkle on her face. Even now when she’s fighting back tears, she is still beautiful.

  “Mum, I know I’ve messed up, I’ve been getting into a lot of bad shit lately, but you can’t just send me off to the other side of the fucking world, I’m not going! I can’t stand him!” My voice is calmer, and I really try to keep the acid out of it. Screaming and shouting isn’t going to get me anywhere, I need to tread carefully here, or I won’t win this argument. “Mum, please, please don’t force me to go there, I can’t live with him and that slut.” I plead with her.

  I see the flicker of doubt flash in my mum’s eyes, it’s literally a second, then it’s gone. She is back to that steel glare. And in that second, I know I’m fucked, nothing I say or do is going to change her mind. The only way out of moving to New York to live with my absentee dad, his new wife and replacement brat, is if I get sent to prison for Ryan’s murder. Seeing as I didn’t kill him, it looks like I only have one option.

  I honestly think I would rather go to prison.

  Chapter Two - Ellie

  Four days and I will be flying out to New York to start my new life at Columbia University. I’ve worked so hard at school all my life for this. Earning that scholarship was harder than meeting the pope (not that I’ve met the pope). Ever since I was a little girl, I have dreamed of someday moving to New York. I think every person has that one place they want to visit or love for no apparent reason, New York was that place for me. My mother and sister finally took me there on holiday when I was sixteen and it didn’t disappoint. When I got off that plane at JFK, it was like the mothership finally brought me home, I felt that I had found a place where I belonged. I’m going to study English language & literature and live at the dorms. I am so excited, and the fear of moving to the other side of the world, where I do not know a single person, doesn’t frighten me. My family is so proud of me, I’m the first to go to university.

  I enrolled on my courses and arranged my dorm weeks ago, I’m excited to see what life is like as a student in America. I am from a small town in London so moving to New York by myself is a big deal.

  I never really fitted in at school or with the kids in my town, I was kind of like the only loser at the cool table. My ‘friends’ were the popular group in school and although I sat with them at lunch and hung out with them at weekends, I was never really one of them. I am shy and quiet. I honestly would rather stay at home and bury my head in a book. Going out with my friends consists of sitting on the hills with a bottle of cheap, nasty wine that tastes like vinegar, pretending I’m drunk, when in actual fact, I pour half the bottle away on the grass when nobody is looking. A few of my friends lost their virginity at fifteen, on the hills, under the old railway tunnel. That was never going to be me.

  Just to be clear, the hills is basically a deserted railway track surrounded by grassy hills and fields, there is a tunnel that hasn’t been used for years. It is secluded so the police can’t find and separate us. In the eyes of the law, kids who hang around in groups of five or more are considered a ‘gang’ so the fact that there is usually more than 50 of us at any given time, we had to find a place we could all hang out together without being split into groups of three. The funniest thing about it is, besides the underage drinking and smoking, we weren’t technically doing anything wrong, but these days the police don’t arrest real criminals.

  I was social when needed to be, if anything just for high school survival, but I mostly kept my head down and studied hard to get out of this small town as quickly as possible. It isn’t that I don’t like where I come from, I’m very proud in fact, it is just my aspirations and dreams were
always a little too big for my small town.

  Chapter Three - Nathan

  It’s been eleven days since Ryan’s murder. I am no longer a suspect, as apparently you can’t be in two places at once. I have been telling these dickheads that from the beginning. I’m sat in a tiny interrogation room in Scotland Yard police station. Detective Smith has been grilling me for information for the past four hours. I’ve repeatedly told him I don’t know anything. Because I am Nineteen, I don’t need a guardian or parent with me during interview, just the family lawyer my dad sent the second he heard about Ryan, he didn’t think to fly himself home though, you know in case his eldest son needed his dad, prick!

  On the day of the murder, I couldn’t reach Ryan on his phone, so I jumped in an Uber taxi to his place from the Prince Albert pub in Camden at 3:45pm. When the taxi pulled up to his address, I seen a dark figure slumped on the floor just outside Ryan’s apartment building. Further up the road there were three men fleeing the scene wearing all black with hooded tops pulled over their heads. I jumped out the taxi and ran to the figure, it was Ryan. He was choking incoherent words, some of which I could barely understand, I searched his body for wounds but there was too much blood, too many holes in his abdomen and chest. I have known Ryan since we were six years old, he was my best friend.

  I held him in my arms as he died.

  *

  “What happened next Mr Crane?” Detective Smith asks.

  “I’ve already told you a thousand times.” I am exasperated, we’ve been sat here for hours.

  “Mr Crane, the more you cooperate, and the more information you can give us, the faster you can go home, did you see any identifying features on any of the men?”

  I am convinced this idiot has got some sort of memory loss; he has asked me the same question at least a dozen times. He thinks by rewording it, he’s going to trip me up and catch me in a lie. Well I’m not lying, I didn’t see anything, so the joke is on you, muppet!

  “Nathan, please answer the question.” Oh, so we are back to Nathan now? It was Mr Crane before.

  “No, I didn’t see any identifying features, they was dressed in black from head to toe, running in the opposite direction from me, and my best mate was bleeding out all over the fucking floor, I was a bit preoccupied.” my tone is clipped, sarcastic, he is pissing me off.

  Detective Smith does not appreciate my tone, I can tell by the way he stares me down, am I supposed to cower away from him? Behave!

  I could do with some weed. The second I get out of this box room; I am getting a joint and getting high as fuck. I need oblivion. Something to drown out the shit in my head. I keep picturing Ryan’s pale face, eyes glazed over, dead in my arms.

  Chapter Four - Ellie

  I look around my dorm-room, pleased with my handy work. I have pinned photographs of my family and ‘friends’ to my pin board above my desk, changed the sheets and duvet covers on my bed, and hung my clothes in my wardrobe (closet). I need to learn the phrases and slangs here or my accent is going to get lost in translation. I have already been asked three times where I am from since I got here. The dorm rooms are surprisingly big, my side of the room doesn’t seem cluttered at all, in fact it’s very neat and all my belongings have their own place. My roommate, Sienna is a psychology student. She is from Alabama and has a thick accent, when she speaks her words come out as a kind of slow drawling whereas when I speak its more of a mile a minute chatter. Let’s just say it’s going to be fun communicating. Apparently, she was named Sienna after Sienna Miller, her mother is a Jude Law fan, they both loved his adaption of Alfie. She seems nice so far which is a plus, seeing as I will be living with her for the foreseeable future. My classes start Monday morning, I am so ready for this. I’ve been here eight hours, and I am not homesick yet. Jet lagged, but not homesick.

  Chapter Five - Nathan

  Ryan’s body was released to his family on Tuesday, the autopsy says he was stabbed twenty-seven times. On his own fucking door step! His funeral is today.

  My mum had to practically force me to wear a black button-down shirt with smart black trousers to match. I don’t usually wear shit like this. My style consists of tracksuits, jeans, t-shirts and the occasional jumper. I do love trainers though; I must buy a new pair at least once a week. Today I’m wearing my black ‘b17’ Dior trainers to go with my all-black outfit.

  I feel numb. I’m not sad, angry or any other emotion that I should be feeling. I’m just numb.

  As I head down stairs I can hear voices, idle chit chat. Nobody really knows what the fuck to say when a nineteen-year-old lad is stabbed to death, so they just make pointless conversations to fill the silence.

  “Nice weather we’re having ay?” Fuck off.

  I would rather be anywhere but here. I can’t even look at his aunt Sharon, I don’t know what to say. Sorry I couldn’t save him? Sorry I haven’t cut the evil bastards head off who done this? Sorry I can’t tell you who murdered him because they might kill you in your sleep? I don’t know how to deal with this.

  I have even considered the idea that my mum might be right sending us to New York, I definitely want Jack far away from this shit, he’s Seventeen and a better person than I will ever be.

  But, if I go with Jack, I can’t go and find the little prick and carve his eyes out with spoons for killing Ryan. I need to kill him, it’s the only thing keeping me sane, the knowledge that one day soon, I will find and kill him. The anger seeps into my veins like acid.

  Well, I’m no longer numb.

  *

  After four days of being stuck in this house, I have officially developed what feels like cabin fever. I can’t sit on my arse any longer. I can hear Jack playing Call of Duty on his Xbox in the next room. I decide he needs to get out of the house as well. He plays that game so much; I genuinely think he is going to get arthritis in his thumbs.

  “Jack” I push his bedroom door open without knocking and he looks up at me.

  “What’s wrong?” Jack has that concerned look he has had on his face since Ryan. I feel bad, I know he is this worried because of me and the trouble that I cause.

  “Nothing, I was just wondering if you wanted to go and get some food from Angie's?” Angie's is the café two roads away from where we live, the woman who owns it is also a good friend of our mother’s.

  “Yeah okay, I’m hungry. I could just eat a pasta box.” He says and we leave the house and walk down to the café.

  We are chatting amongst ourselves waiting for our food when the deafening screech of car tyres pierces through the shop window.

  My heart starts racing and my mind goes into over-drive. Without even turning around I know who it is. Ryan’s final words run through my mind “Lad, run! For Craig…”

  They can come for me all they want, I fear no one, but they are not hurting Jack, I will set every one of them on fire first.

  I look at Jack, seeing the fear in his eyes, he isn’t like me. I won’t let him die for my mistakes, and they will kill him just to spite me. Angie motions with her head to the back door behind the counter. Her pupils dilate and the colour from her face drains as she takes in the scene behind me.

  “Nathan, get Jack out of here now!” She screams at me.

  In a fight or flight situation, my instincts are always to fight, it is what has always made me dangerous, I am unpredictable, but today I fight against my nature. I grab Jack by the hood of his sweater and half drag him through the tiny shop. As we reach the backdoor I hear shouting from inside, Angie screams for the other boys to get out of her shop before she calls the police.

  I run. Faster than I have ever run.

  Not for me, if I was alone in that shop, I would have taken as many of them out as I could, before they put me down. I ran for Jack, I will keep him as far away from this as I possibly can, even if it means sending him to New York alone.

  As we reach our road, we both stop, lean into our knees and gasp for air. It is literally seconds when we hear the speed of a car, we ru
n again. As we near our house, there is a police patrol car outside. I let out the breath I didn’t realise I was holding in; My throat is burning; my lungs are heaving for oxygen. I have never been so relieved to see police.

  The black Range Rover slows its speed to a crawl, the passenger window rolls down, as the car pulls up next to us. A boy my age wearing a balaclava mask to hide his face, puts his head out of the window.

  The poor attempt at a disguise doesn’t work, I know who he is, I know his eyes. I mentally add him to my hit list.

  “You think you’re Safe Boo? We will get you eventually man, you can’t hide forever…” He sneers at me. I try to run at the car, but Jack pulls me back by the sleeve of my jacket.

  “I’m not hiding lad; you know where I am!” I snarl back. I don’t even recognise my own voice. The venom that is laced through it. The black Range Rover reverses slowly back down the road, not wanting to attract attention to itself.

  Chapter Six - Ellie

  My first day of classes and lectures has gone pretty well. The butterflies I had in my stomach this morning dissipated when I walked into English literature. The class was everything I hoped it would be. The professor was witty but stern, he’s definitely not going to take any crap this semester. I sat next to a girl named Shelby (American) she was very pretty. Auburn waist-length hair, slim frame and small reading classes that make her blue eyes look huge. I think she said she was originally from Massachusetts, I’m not even sure where that is. I will have to google it later.