Into The Lake: A gripping psychological thriller

by LK Chapman

  ‘I don’t know,’ Gareth said. ‘He’s pretty embarrassed. He might just want to forget about the whole thing.’

  Josh gave him a deeply sceptical look. ‘I don’t want to go home. I just want to leave.’

  ‘If you can’t deal with Toby, you can’t deal with the streets.’

  ‘I don’t have to be on the streets! I’d figure out something better than that. Can’t I come to your house? Just for a night?’

  A knot formed in Gareth’s stomach. ‘Josh, that’s not an answer. One night at my house won’t make a difference – it’s not like you can just move in, is it? You want to spend your energy figuring something out, a way to make Toby leave you alone. Then you won’t have to go anywhere.’

  Josh

  19

  On the way home from school the next day, Gareth’s eyes glowed with delight as Josh outlined the plan that had formed in his mind. Taking a different route to try and avoid Toby, they had gone down a narrow alleyway to a track that weaved its way along the backs of a row of terraced houses. On one side of the track they could peer into gardens over short fences and gates, while on the other a row of garages stretched out, the peeling paint on their doors shades of blue, white and grey. Although it was a slightly longer walk, it was a much more private place, out of the sight of Toby and Mikayla, and all their followers. Here they could relax a little.

  ‘You should do it!’ Gareth said, before Josh had completely finished explaining his plan. ‘Make him fail all his exams!’

  Josh sighed. ‘I’m not going to make him fail,’ he said. ‘If I hack the exam board this summer, I can make sure he passes. Then I know he’ll go to university. He’ll be gone, for most of the time anyway.’

  Gareth’s eyes filled with disgust. ‘You’re going to do something to help him? You’re going to make his life better?’

  ‘I don’t care if his life gets better, as long as mine gets better too. He has to go, I don’t care how. My mum and stepdad keep talking about how Toby’s grades are slipping. If they slip too far–’

  ‘I can’t believe this. If I could do what you can do, I’d use it to make Toby beg for mercy!’

  Josh rolled his eyes. ‘I don’t want that. All I want is for him to go away. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.’ He stopped and considered for a moment. ‘It’s all just a fantasy, anyway. I won’t really do it. It was just a crazy idea. I probably wouldn’t even be able to do it if I tried.’

  Gareth just shook his head at him.

  After going their separate ways at the end of the track, Josh heard a flurry of footsteps and voices behind him. He turned. Toby, flanked by a couple of friends, though Mikayla and the girls were nowhere to be seen. Shit. He hadn’t managed to avoid them after all. Toby must have guessed that he and Gareth had walked this way and waited for him.

  Ignore them. Just carry on.

  Josh made his way towards the small bridge over the railway tracks, which he crossed every day on his way home. Unease settled in his stomach. This was his least favourite place for a run-in with Toby. Few houses overlooked the bridge, making Toby more bold. And he had nowhere else to go now except to carry on. He could turn around and try to get back to Gareth, or dart back down the track he’d emerged from, but he didn’t fancy his chances at getting past Toby. Even if he did, Toby would only follow him. Prickles of foreboding spread down his spine. He really didn’t want to go over the bridge. But he had no choice.

  Tentatively, he made his way up the first couple of steps, and then he sped up, moving at a near run. Footsteps pounded on the path behind him, and he only just stopped himself from crying out when a pair of hands grabbed him halfway across the bridge.

  ‘Not so brave now you’re on your own,’ Toby snarled into his face. ‘I’m sick of you and Gareth disrespecting me. And I’m definitely sick of you looking at Mikayla. She finds it disgusting, by the way. You perving over her.’

  ‘Leave me alone,’ Josh said uselessly.

  Toby’s friends clustered around him, and Josh’s feet left the ground as the three of them grabbed him and lifted him up against the stone wall at the edge of the bridge. Up, and then they pressed him down against the top of the wall, his head dangling into empty space. Fear gripped him, but Toby clearly wasn’t satisfied as they pushed him a little further over the edge.

  ‘Get me down!’ he cried out, blinded with panic. He tried to push himself away from the edge, but it was futile, and Josh cried out as sounds began to carry from down the track. A train was coming.

  ‘I think he gets the message,’ one of Toby’s friends said nervously, and one set of hands released their grip on him. But it wasn’t enough for him to break free. As the train roared by beneath the bridge, he screamed.

  Finally, once the train had passed, the boys pulled him back to safety, and he collapsed to the ground, shaking and trying not to cry. Toby crouched in front of him. ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘Are you scared of dying a virgin? Because that’s going to happen anyway.’

  Sniggering, he stood up and the three boys made off along the bridge, and disappeared down the steps at the other end. Some tears spilt from Josh’s eyes. His phone vibrated and he took it from his pocket. It was a message from Toby. His finger hovered. Should he even open it? Somehow he couldn’t help himself.

  Do the world a favour. Jump off the bridge yourself.

  He swallowed hard. A few more tears fell, and then he got unsteadily to his feet. Desperate to be away from this place, he dashed across the bridge, and made his way quickly down the steps. He was shaking all over, his pulse racing, and he felt sick. When the train went past, he’d really thought he was going to die.

  Maybe that would have been better.

  No. No, he refused to let his mind go down that path. He tried to recall how he felt when he’d told Gareth his crazy idea about the exam grades. He hadn’t been that serious when he’d said it. But maybe…

  No. It was useless. He wouldn’t really do it. Knowing his luck, he’d end up ruining his own future by getting caught and Toby would get the last laugh. Again.

  There’s nothing I can do. Nothing. He let a couple of tears spill out – after all, there was no one around to see him. When it came down to it, he was alone. He was always alone.

  Two months before Mikayla’s death

  Gareth

  20

  ‘Gareth!’ his mum called. ‘Gareth! Come in here.’

  ‘For fuck’s sake,’ he mumbled under his breath as he made his way down the stairs towards the living room. His mum was pointing towards the window – or at least, towards the small sliver of glass that was visible between the towers of junk. ‘Who are they?’ his mum asked.

  Gareth peered out of the dirty glass. What was his mum going on about? Had she just shifted up to a whole new gear of crazy? After all, they were at the end of the street. Nobody came down here except the postman and people delivering stuff his mum had ordered. Wait. A jolt of shock went through him. He recognised the figures outside; it was Toby and Mikayla.

  He picked his way closer to the window. How had they found the house? Toby must have followed me one day. Shit. He must have been pretty distracted to not realise a great lump like Toby was following him. What were they doing out there? Toby was laughing, holding the bloody camera he had with him like he thought he was some big shot photographer, though Mikayla didn’t seem to be into it.

  He’s showing her the house, Gareth realised. He’s taking photos of it. They’d come to laugh at him, and Toby would show the photos to anyone he could get to look at them. He’d show them to Josh.

  ‘Do you know them?’ his mum asked.

  Gareth shrugged, but inside he was fuming, his head spinning as he imagined what would happen when everyone saw.

  ‘Are they your friends?’

  ‘As if I’d bring friends back to this place!’ he snapped. His cheeks were hot with shame. The house looked a wreck from the outside; no maintenance ever got done, and the windows were all blocked either by ancien
t curtains or piles of boxes, the old wooden window frames rotting. Reluctant to open the front door and risk the pair seeing inside the hall, Gareth made his way to the kitchen, where he managed to force the back door open enough to step outside. He made his way down the path at the side of the house, and stopped beside a bush where the sounds of Toby and Mikayla’s voices reached him, though they were yet to spot him.

  ‘I’m going,’ Mikayla said. ‘This is exactly the kind of thing I was talking about, Toby. Bringing me here to laugh at that kid’s house? It’s not funny. It’s mean.’

  She began to walk back down the street and Toby followed her, catching her arm. ‘Gareth’s just a little freak,’ he said. ‘Who cares about him? Besides, he doesn’t know we’re here–’

  ‘I do, actually,’ Gareth said loudly, as he stepped towards them, trying to figure out if he could make a grab for the camera. ‘And I’d like you to fuck off now.’

  Mikayla looked at Toby triumphantly and shook her arm free. ‘See?’ she said. ‘He is here, and we shouldn’t be doing this.’

  She started walking again, and Toby looked between her and Gareth as if he couldn’t choose which was the higher priority. At that moment, as Gareth was about to lunge towards Toby and try to wrestle the camera from him, the front door opened, and Toby, Mikayla and Gareth’s eyes all fell on his mum and the contents of the hall behind her, which were clear to see.

  ‘You heard my son,’ she said, pointing her finger between Toby and Mikayla. ‘Get away from here!’

  Toby made a big show of looking around her into the hall. ‘Wow,’ he said to Gareth, raising the camera, ‘your house is fucked up.’ He stepped closer. ‘Is your mum, like, mental or something?’

  Gareth lunged at him and Mikayla ran over and tried to drag Toby away, but not before he’d managed to take a couple of shots. ‘I’m sorry, um–’ She looked at Gareth’s mum helplessly, unsure how to refer to her. ‘We’re going,’ she finished.

  Narrowly escaping Gareth’s clutches, Toby and Mikayla ran back down the street and Gareth pounded after them. He couldn’t let those photos see the light of day. He’d get hold of that fucking camera if he had to prise it out of Toby’s cold, dead fingers. At that moment, the pavement slammed into his cheek and his knee exploded with pain. He’d tripped over. He’d tripped over in the middle of the street and Toby was laughing as he sprinted away.

  Letting out a howl of rage, Gareth struggled back to his feet, his eyes stinging with tears which he swiped at furiously. The last thing he wanted was to go back to his house, but his mum was calling his name, making a scene. For God’s sake! If she carried on like this, the fucking neighbours would see inside the house next. He scurried back and glared at her furiously.

  ‘Gareth,’ his mum said, her face taking on a wobbly look around the chin. ‘You fell. Are you hurt?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ he spat.

  ‘You’re bleeding.’

  ‘Oh, what do you care?’ he said, helpless with anger and shame. He was hurt, but the pain in his body was nothing compared to what was going on in his mind.

  ‘That boy, he was making fun of you. I’m sorry–’

  ‘I’m going to my room,’ he said quickly.

  Inside, a couple of hot tears spilt down his cheeks, stinging the cut on his face. Toby deserved to have his fucking face smashed in. Gareth swiped angrily at his tears. He wasn’t going to cry over Toby. Neither would he retaliate, because Toby would only take it out on Josh. There was nothing he could do about the photos now. Toby was long gone. All he could do was steel himself for what Josh would say when he found out the truth.

  This is just the way things are. I can’t do anything about it. In a fit of fresh rage, he went out into the hall, where he started grabbing objects indiscriminately from a pile in the corner and throwing them at the opposite wall. Some bounced. Some smashed. His mum came tearing out of the lounge, yelling at him to stop, bounding up the stairs where she ran straight to her precious objects – not to him, though he was on the verge of tears again.

  ‘Hello!’ he said, sarcastically. ‘I’m right here, Mum. I think maybe you meant to come and see if I was okay?’

  ‘How could you do this?’ she cried, picking up the fragments of some god-awful cat ornament. ‘Look what you did!’

  Furious, Gareth stamped on a large fragment of china that was still on the carpet, and his mum shrieked. ‘I’m going out,’ he said.

  ‘Good. And stay out,’ she said, still near-hysterical over the damage to her things. ‘I don’t want you to come home.’

  She did, though. She sent him a text after twenty minutes when she’d calmed down, saying she never meant to say that, she was just upset. Gareth deleted the message. He would stay out. As long as he could, anyway. He’d get bored eventually.

  21

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Mikayla’s voice made him jump, and Gareth turned to find her standing a couple of paces from him, twirling the ends of her ponytail around her fingers and eyeing him quizzically.

  ‘You just stole that, didn’t you? I saw you take it out of your pocket.’ She nodded towards the necklace in his hand, which he was doing his best to conceal. ‘But why were you about to throw it away?’

  For God’s sake. Not only had he been stupid enough to let Toby follow him home unnoticed the previous day, now bloody Mikayla had managed to cross paths with him. She was still watching him, waiting for an answer. To his surprise she laughed, not unkindly, and said, ‘Well, I guess I’d rather you were throwing it away than planning to wear it. Pink is not your colour.’

  Gareth’s cheeks reddened. Why wouldn’t she just fuck off? She’d already seen his house, why did she have to come and bother him again? And besides, how could he explain? The rush of joy he felt at stealing things only to then throw them away. Brand new things, still in their packaging. Things that were actually worth something. He would imagine his mum’s face as he did it. He could almost hear her now, the excuses she’d come up with for keeping this naff bit of jewellery that cost less than a tenner. Oh, but it would go nicely with this outfit or that. It would make a nice present for somebody. A present! Hah! Of all the justifications she came out with, that was the most ridiculous. As if she'd ever give something away as a present. Once stuff got inside the house, it never left.

  His rage at her had fuelled a particularly daring spate of shoplifting today, but now Mikayla’s appearance had taken the shine off of the high he’d been feeling, he fell back down to earth a little. Probably was time to pack it in for today. His luck would only stretch so far.

  Gareth held out the cheap necklace with its pink heart-shaped pendant to Mikayla. ‘You have it if you want.’

  She shook her head. ‘Could you really see me wearing something like that?’

  ‘Suit yourself.’ He reached out towards the bin, but Mikayla snatched it from his hand. ‘Wait here,’ she said, and she marched up the street back to the department store, popping out a few minutes later.

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I told them I found it on the pavement outside.’

  ‘You gave it back?’

  ‘Yes, I gave it back. My mum works in that store. You shouldn’t take stuff from there. Or anywhere else.’

  Gareth raised an eyebrow. How old did Mikayla think she was? She sounded like a snotty old woman. ‘I don’t give a shit,’ he said. ‘Shops like that expect some of their stuff to get nicked.’

  Mikayla smiled at him kindly. ‘Look, it must have been … difficult, what happened yesterday, with me and Toby. I didn’t know where he was taking me, or I wouldn’t have gone with him. He just said he had something interesting to show me, but then we turned up outside your house and he was laughing and being an idiot. I’ve barely spoken to him since yesterday. Apart from telling him not to show those photos to anyone if he knew what was good for him.’

  ‘Good for you,’ Gareth said, though relief flickered inside him. ‘Can you also stop talking to me, please?’

/>   ‘I’m only trying to help–’

  ‘I don’t need help,’ he spat. ‘I’m none of your business. My house is none of your business. Just leave me alone.’

  ***

  When he got home Gareth was astonished to find his mum in the spare bedroom upstairs. Usually it was impossible to get inside. She’d managed to move some items out to the hall and worm her way in, and she now sat beside an open box full of old baby things.

  ‘Are you having a clear out?’ he asked. As soon as he said the words, he realised how ridiculous he was being. Of course she wasn’t. This was something different, though. Interesting.

  ‘Sit down, Gareth.’

  He looked around him pointedly. ‘Where?’

  She shoved some stuff aside in exasperation. ‘Here. Beside me.’

  He did as she asked. ‘So, what is it? I don’t want to look at my old baby stuff.’

  ‘It’s not–’ She swallowed hard. ‘It’s not yours.’

  ‘Whose is it then?’

  ‘Your sister’s.’

  ‘I don’t have a sister. You’re losing the plot, Mum. Let’s put this away–’

  ‘No. You had a sister. Her name was Holly.’

  Gareth listened to her choke out the story. He couldn’t seem to fully focus, but the odd word reached him: Premature. Very poorly. So tiny. ‘Why didn’t I know about her before?’ he asked.

  ‘Your dad didn’t like talking about her, and you were only little. Then he died, and after that I couldn’t see how to bring it up.’

  Gareth frowned at the box of baby things. They’re not my old things. It’s not even me she’s sentimental over. ‘Why are you telling me now?’ he asked.

  ‘You know why,’ she said, sniffing and tucking a loose strand of dark blonde hair behind her ear. ‘Those kids that were here yesterday, who saw the house. You were so upset. I don’t … I don’t want to live like this. This isn’t ever what I thought my life would be like. I don’t want you to think that I think this is okay.’