by Graham West
They could have got away free that Sunday afternoon if it wasn’t for that lame duck! They should’ve fucking run, and kept on running, till their lungs burst, but no, Pascoe just gave in. When the cops picked them up, they were moving at little more than a jog. He could have run on ahead but he’d stuck by his mate, and then what did that bastard do? He told the cops he never wanted to see him again.
The four-year sentence had been reduced to two, probably thanks to that stupid bitch and her snotty little kid stepping into the road without looking. Okay, they were behind the ice cream van, but they were still off the pavement so if something hits you then it’s just tough.
Pascoe hadn’t posted much anyway. Not while he was living with his uncle and working in some fleapit of a garage. Plus, he’d lost both of his parents. It wasn’t as if he was living the dream, was it? Life was dealing him the shitty end of the stick, and he deserved it. Taylor could live with that. But when he’d bagged himself that tart, well, he just had to brag about it, and next thing there were pictures all over his newsfeed. Darren fucking Pascoe with his fancy job and his swanky little apartment! It had all been too much.
Taylor stubbed out his cigarette and lit another. He’d been smoking heavily recently. Weed, mostly. His mate had been growing cannabis in the bedroom of his end terrace, and no one twigged until a whole lot of rendering fell off the outside wall. Some clued-up cop put two and two together. He’d seen what the heat from these little farms could do, and the place was raided.
Taylor was only a lodger. He moved on to the next place, living with a girl called Nadia, a hooker in her early forties who needed help with the rent. They kind of hit it off. Nadia hadn’t minded his company, although they only had sex twice, and she made him pay on both occasions. But Nadia overdosed six months after he moved in, and although she survived, Taylor didn’t want to hang around in case he came home to a dead body one day.
So now, he was sharing with three Romanian guys, and he still wasn’t sure how that happened. He’d hated immigrants up until then. But his new flatmates were okay, if he was honest. Stefan was the oldest, and seemed to be the leader, although the youngest, Andrei, was the one with the temper. Claudiu was the easiest to get along with and spoke perfect English so he did all the dealing.
Taylor knew he could have gone back to Kirkland but his parents had gone really weird. They were straight now, and in this world, going straight got you nowhere. His father had gotten himself a job—a fucking slave to some money-grabbing arsehole. And what had they done to his home? They weren’t his people anymore. These Romanian lads were professional bad asses, though. They had a nice little business and took no shit from the girls working for them. Occasionally, Taylor got a freebie from Velma and ended up buying a few cans of ale in return.
Taylor slipped the phone into his pocket and stubbed out his second cigarette. He didn’t want to walk back through the pub while the cops were there asking questions about last night’s fight; it was best taking the back entrance out onto the road. There was a chemist around the corner. One of those girls was coming back later, so he’d get himself a pack of condoms and stop off at the off-licence for a few cans. He pulled a twenty-pound note from his pocket and kicked an empty milk carton against the wall in frustration. There wouldn’t be much change out of that. Okay, it was only a few beers, but it was still money. He was still paying for sex. That bastard Pascoe certainly wasn’t.
***
Jenny walked across the park towards the house with a feeling of trepidation. She wasn’t quite sure why—it was only a doll, after all—but she’d seen what these companies could turn out these days. She knew how real they looked.
Blakely met her in the reception area. His greeting was warm. “Penny was a bit freaked, to be honest,” he told her, “but I think it’s just the job. It will bring the whole story to life.”
That was the problem. Jenny wasn’t sure if she wanted the story brought to life. She followed him up the stairs, her heartbeat quickening with each step. They stopped outside the attic door. This was it. The place. That place.
“Are you ready?” Blakely asked quietly.
Jenny nodded.
Blakely pushed open the door, grimacing as it squealed in protest. The room was as bleak as Jenny remembered. Nothing had been touched. The trunk full of books, the tin bath, the mattress in the corner. But Jenny’s eyes fell upon the girl sitting at the desk by the window.
“Oh God!” she gasped.
Blakely grinned. “Good, isn’t she?”
Jenny stood, transfixed. It was Amelia, perfect in every detail. Not the girl she had seen in the nightmares more than six years ago. Not the girl whose whole body was decaying as she spoke, but a young woman, serene and at peace. Jenny stepped forward. “Can I touch her?” she whispered.
Blakely nodded. Jenny walked over to the window and reached out tentatively. Her skin was smooth but cold. That was the only thing that told Jenny’s senses Amelia wasn’t real.
“We had an issue with the size of her breasts,” Blakely said, looking on from the doorway. “If I remember rightly, you weren’t sure.”
Jenny shook her head. “It hardly matters. She’s perfect.”
Blakely clapped his hands together with a crack that echoed through the room. “Great. We can open up tomorrow,” he said triumphantly. “Thanks, Jenny. You’ve been brilliant.”
They walked back across the park together, although Jenny wasn’t quite sure why she was being accompanied back to the lodge. That was until Blakely said nervously, “I need a word with you about something. It’s rather…sensitive.” He pointed towards a small rustic bench nestling beneath a beech tree. “Have you got a moment?”
***
Cody studied his new girlfriend, wondering how she could possibly fit a baby inside her. He had an idea how they came out, and that was even more confusing. Bailey wasn’t much bigger than he was—maybe a few inches—and he had problems having a poo sometimes. Imagine pushing a baby out! But then again, girls had two bottoms, so maybe the one they pushed the babies from was a lot bigger.
Bailey caught him staring. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked curtly. “You want me to show you my bits again or something?”
Cody shook his head. He certainly didn’t want another scene, and he didn’t want to see Bailey getting into trouble with her mother. Nicky was sitting on her own now. He guessed it was something to do with his dad bringing Mum along.
“Wanna go on the bikes later?” he asked, changing the subject.
Bailey shrugged. “Sure. I’ll just have one more go on the slide.”
Cody followed her up the steps, still trying to imagine an actual baby coming out of that skinny body. When they arrived at the top, he looked down to see Mum and Dad waving. Nicky was waving too but now there was someone with her. A boy, who looked a little bit like Bailey but older, standing next to her. His hair was red, and his face was as white as milk. These people he saw—they were always so pale. Cody closed his eyes, pinched his nose, and let himself go, falling down the slide and crashing into the water with a force that took him to the bottom of the pool. When he emerged seconds later, the boy with the red hair had gone, and Bailey’s mum was on her own again.
***
Dennis Blakely had not felt this nervous for a long time. Jenny had a family back at the lodge and she wasn’t going to hang around for half an hour of small talk while he built up the courage to confess. But it might be good to set the scene.
“This tree is two hundred years old,” he began. “I like to think that Amelia might have sheltered here, waiting for her father.”
Jenny looked thoughtful. “Yep, maybe. She certainly would have walked past it.”
“And now, here we are, over a century later,” Blakely interrupted.
“Is that why you put the bench here? Is this your thinking spot?”
It wasn’t, but it sounded romantic. “I guess you could say that,” he lied.
Jenny pulled o
ut her phone and tapped the screen, returning it to her pocket. “It’s Jake, wondering where I am,” she said. “So what did you want to tell me?”
Blakely took a deep breath. It was now or never. “I’ve been having dreams. Bad dreams.”
Jenny frowned. “Really? What about?”
He wondered if this had been such a good idea after all. What was she going to tell him to do? Go to the doctors? Get some therapy? See a psychiatrist? “It’s the bike shed. It all happens in the bike shed.”
Jenny listened attentively, showing little emotion. Even when it came to the part where he told her how he’d wake, screaming and dripping in perspiration. “The migraines are terrible, and Penny thinks it’s about Kim.”
Jenny looked confused.
“The girl that got murdered in the woods.”
“What? By Caden Reece?”
Blakely nodded. Then Jenny asked the question he’d dreaded. “So exactly why do you think you’re having the nightmares?”
It was always best to start at the beginning. Lay it on thick. The pressure he’d been under, keeping the church and the council happy. How he’d had to compromise and cut out the references to Reverend Allington. Then, and only then, would he tell her how they’d discovered the body of Jacob Root.
***
Cody was adamant. “We’re okay on our own! She’s thirteen!” He pointed at Bailey, who seemed quite pleased that he’d remembered.
Peter Nelson glanced at Nicky, guessing she might have been offended if he made it obvious he didn’t trust her daughter.
“Okay,” he said with a sigh of submission. “Just stick to the paths, and don’t leave those bikes anywhere.”
“Yes, Dad.” Cody high-fived Bailey, who squealed with childlike excitement.
Nicky gave Peter’s arm an affectionate squeeze. “Thanks for that. I’d have understood if you hadn’t wanted to trust your kid with mine, especially after what I’ve told you.”
“It’s fine. Laura and I are going to get something to eat. You want to come?”
Nicky’s face lit up. “Wow! Thanks. I’d love to!”
“We might even splash out on a bottle!”
“That sounds perfect.”
Peter laughed. “Too right! It’s not often a bloke gets to hang out with his wife and his girlfriend at the same time.”
Laura laughed too, but Peter saw the warning look in her eyes.
***
“Where are we going?” Bailey asked, peering anxiously ahead.
“We’re going on an adventure.” Cody was in control, and it felt good. Most kids just bossed him around, especially the older ones. Now he was bossing about a girl who was old enough to have a baby. How cool was that?
“What adventure?” Bailey pedalled furiously in an effort to keep up.
“You’ll see. Just follow me.”
Cody had planned the trip early that morning. He wanted to check out the place in daylight. Jacob Root’s cottage may not even exist now. Things like that could happen, though he was never quite sure how or why.
“I don’t want to follow you,” Bailey protested breathlessly.
“Stop being such a girl!”
“But I am a girl!”
“I know,” Cody replied, pedalling even harder. “You showed me.”
Bailey didn’t answer.
There was a whole forest to get through yet, and she was already grumbling. It was no wonder boys got fed up of girls if this was how they behaved. “We’re nearly there now,” he called, turning to see Bailey lagging several yards behind. “Come on! Hurry up!”
Bailey gave him a look, but he was used to that kind of thing. It just made him want to pedal even harder. It was mean, he knew, but then again, he was used to mean too. The kids at school called him names and would poke him during lessons, hoping he’d cry or fight back. Maybe Bailey would start crying soon and he’d know how it felt to dish it out.
Cody was about to pull away, but then he saw the NO ACCESS sign. “We’re gonna leave our bikes here,” he shouted back, slowing down.
Bailey pulled up behind him seconds later looking exhausted. Her face was red and she looked as if she wanted to kill him. “Why? Your dad told us not to leave them.”
“My dad isn’t here.”
Bailey stared at him, bewildered. “So where are we going?” she spluttered as if she was about to cry.
Cody leaned his bike against the fence. “We’re going into the woods. I’ve got something to show you.”
“But we can’t. That sign says we’re not supposed to.”
“Yeah, and you’re not supposed to pull your knickers down, but that didn’t stop you, did it?”
Cody wondered were that line had come from. Sometimes he said things—things that he guessed grown-ups might say—that came out of his mouth like he was one of those ventriloquist’s dummies. He remembered the first time he’d drawn one of his special pictures, with a hand that felt all tingly and warm. Maybe his special friends came out with clever words as well.
Bailey stared at him. “That was a jackass thing to say. This is the last time I’m gonna hang out with you!”
Cody clambered onto the fence. “Just shut up and follow me.”
“This is a really bad idea. We are going to get into so much trouble.”
Cody took no notice. He was already negotiating the first mass of brambles and dead wood. Bailey followed behind, snivelling. That made him feel good; he’d have to be like a real man and look after her, which meant she’d definitely want to marry him when they got older.
“It’s creepy,” Bailey whined, trying desperately to hold back the tears. “My mum will bloody kill you.”
“I don’t care. My dad will kill your mum if she touches me.”
“That’s if he doesn’t kill you first!”
Cody didn’t answer. He was too busy trying to remember where the cottage was. Maybe Mr. Root would tell him if he listened hard enough.
“I want to know where you’re taking me, and I want to know now!” Bailey stamped her feet, almost losing her balance among the bracken.
“Shut up!” Cody stopped in his tracks. “I’m trying to listen.”
“What for?”
“Jacob,”
“Who’s Jacob?”
“He’s a man.”
Bailey groaned. “I know that. I’m not stupid!”
“You are stupid! You don’t know anything!”
“No I’m not. You’re stupid. Only a stupid person would come here when there’s a big fucking sign telling you not to.”
“That’s a bad word you said. I’ll tell your mum.”
Bailey’s face turned crimson. “I don’t care. You can fuck off, and my mum can fuck off too. You can all fuck off.”
Cody wondered if he might be better looking for a new girlfriend when he got older. “You’re weird,” he said. “And your face is a funny colour, just like your hair.”
Bailey glared, picking up a broken branch and flinging it. Cody ducked as it flew over his head. “Hey! You could have killed me then!”
They both stopped suddenly. A rustling sound came from somewhere nearby. The same kind of sound Cody had heard last night. He turned to Bailey. “Let’s run,” he whispered.
Moving at any speed through the undergrowth wasn’t easy, but within minutes, they arrived at a small clearing—the place he remembered. From there, Cody could see the cottage. He knew the way.
***
It was the reaction Blakely had feared. Jenny looked at him as if he were crazy.
“You what?”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“You left him there? Under the bike shed?”
“It was a snap decision. I’ve already explained. I was stressed out over the whole thing with my father.”
Jenny shook her head in disgust. “You went to all that trouble for Amelia—for us. Yet you leave her father in a shallow grave and pour concrete over him? It doesn’t make sense.”
“I know. I feel
terrible.”
“And so you should.” Jenny stood. “I want to go and see Amelia’s grave.”
Blakely sighed. “I’ll come with you.” His heart felt heavy. He’d hoped she would understand, perhaps even attempt to reassure him, but Jenny walked off without waiting, forcing him to jog after her.
The grave was set in a small garden surrounded by a manicured privet hedge. They arrived at the gate together, and Jenny stopped to check out the oak wood plaque. Amelia’s Garden. She looked up at Blakely, and he saw the sadness in her eyes. “She’s my great-great-great-grandmother and you’ve left her father in the woods.”
The squeals and cries of excited children seem to die on the breeze.
“You know what you have to do, Dennis.” Jenny pushed open the gate. “You need to recover those remains before it’s too late.”
***
“I don’t like this place.” Bailey looked over the cottage as if it were something she’d seen in one of those spooky movies that grown-ups never allowed you to watch.
“Don’t be silly,” Cody chided. “It’s just an old house.”
“Old? It looks like it’s falling down.” She looked at him quizzically as if the thought had only just occurred to her. “How did you know this place was here? Did Jacob tell you?”
Cody shrugged. “Kind of.”
Bailey huffed. “What do you mean, kind of? Where is he? Where’s Jacob?”
“Stop asking questions.”
“I won’t. I want to know!”
“I see people and I hear voices.”
He’d trusted Bailey, thinking she was different. It might be okay to tell her about the people he saw, but she was looking at him the way his classmates had done before they started laughing and calling him a freak.