by P B Kane
Oh, there was a problem all right. A big, big problem.
Daniel remembered the look on John’s face, how he’d stared at them. Then, just before he’d winced—they’d thought from the pain—the glance over both their shoulders, beyond them, into the kitchen. The line of sight was exactly the same now, and the fridge door was open, just as it had been when his mother had been fixing to make sandwiches that day. John had been looking over their shoulders, at the open doorway of the fridge. A look of… of what, panic, fear? on his face… just before that wince. But what did it mean? Daniel didn’t have the faintest idea.
He’d only just shut the door and come back into the living room again when the front door opened. “Daniel! Daniel…?” His mothers words were slurred again, she’d already had more than a few drinks at the reception. “Oh, there you are… we... we couldn’t find you, and then somebody said something about a…” She hiccupped. “About… about a fight…”
At least she’d noticed his absence, he thought. But it wasn’t like there were many places to go on the island. He couldn’t run, not even if he wanted to. “Wasn’t a fight,” he replied. “Just a disagreement.”
He glared at John, standing behind his mum. Mikey was asleep in the man’s arms. “You worried your mother,” said John, sternly.
Daniel shrugged.
“You… you put Mikey to bed,” she slurred. “I want to have a word with…with my other son.”
John stepped past her, and headed off to the stairs, though not without casting a stare back in Daniel’s direction. Daniel’s mother began walking over to him, but almost tripped on the carpet. She nodded, fixing the direction in her head, and followed what she thought was a straight line.
“You’re drunk,” he told her.
“I may have had a little to drink. But it was a wedding. That’s what you do at…” Another hiccup. “You’ll see when you’re older.”
Daniel folded his arms. “Is that your excuse for tonight, for what I saw?”
She blinked. “What are you talking about?”
“For you, draped all over him.”
“I wasn’t…draped over anyone…” said his mother, but wasn’t entirely convinced herself. “That’s not the point anyway….We need to have a little talk about your behaviour of late.”
Daniel laughed out loud. “My behaviour?”
“Yes,” she slurred, missing the emphasis entirely. “It’s… it’s not accept…accepta…” She blinked again, frowning.
Daniel stepped forward, finger raised and jabbing at her with each word. “I’ll tell you what’s not acceptable, Mum. Moving him in without even telling us, carrying on like you have been doing. God knows what Dad would have said—”
“Don’t…don’t you dare bring him into this! You didn’t even know…”
“And him up there dressed in Dad’s clothes, as well. He must be turning in his grave.”
The slap came before he had time to react—faster than he would have expected given her state. But it was also much harder than she’d intended, because she couldn’t control the force. She stepped back, shocked herself.
“I’m… I’m sorry, son…” Daniel’s mother began to cry, as he put his hand to his stinging face. “I’m so sorry.”
Daniel gaped at her, then made for the stairs himself.
“He’s been gone so long,” he heard her whisper.
Suddenly John was there on the stairs, barring his way. Daniel brought up the can of ice-cold coke, pretending to put it to his cheek. But really he was gauging what John’s reaction would be. The man studied Daniel, then the drink, pulling a face. He stepped off the stairs and allowed the teenager past.
That night, Daniel slept with the bolt on, a chair propped up against the handle, and the hammer clenched tightly in his fist.
The first thing that happened after that was Vincent.
Daniel only heard about this on the school grapevine, but apparently Jill’s dog had become quite sick after the weekend. So sick in fact she wasn’t around on Monday, because her parents had to take him to the vets and she’d demanded to go with them.
He spotted Greg only a couple of times that day, but instead of the glowering look he’d been expecting, the boy seemed distant, preoccupied. Hands in pockets, staring either at the ground or off into space. Until recently, Daniel would have gone up to him and asked what the matter was, but not after what had happened at the wedding. It wasn’t about punishing Greg; Daniel had his pride. If Greg wanted to tell him, he knew where Daniel was.
As it turned out, he’d end up talking to both Greg and Jill again—but not until after the second major thing had happened. Daniel heard this first from his mum, though. They’d hardly spoken to each other since the weekend, either, but this wasn’t something she would have come right out and told him anyway. He’d overheard her talking to John about it.
Lily was in the hospital, in a coma. According to what Daniel’s mum had been told, she and McLean had had a massive row as they were preparing to head off on honeymoon that week. Something about one of McLean’s exes. Anyway, it had all got out of hand somehow and, so McLean claimed, Lily had come at him like a wild thing. He’d defended himself, pushing her back. She’d then tripped, banging her head on the side of the fireplace. “But the bruises,” Daniel’s mother had said. “There was not a mark on McLean. I guess you don’t really know anyone, do you?”
Some people less than others, thought Daniel, hiding in the hallway.
McLean had been taken into custody by Sergeant Yeats, and was now in jail, but he could hear the shock in her voice. Daniel could imagine Yeats being just as surprised by the actions of his officer. “They’d seemed so happy, I don’t understand it,” his mum had said to John.
Daniel decided he’d pay Yeats another visit that evening. But it soon went out of his mind when he bumped into Jill at school—though she confessed she’d been specifically looking for him. “I don’t want any more arguments,” he told her.
She shook her head, sniffing back tears. “Me either, that’s not what this is about.”
“Lily,” he said simply.
Jill gave a single nod of her head, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “I just can’t get what you were saying on Saturday out of my mind. About the photograph, about what John might have said to them. But there’s other stuff, too.” She went on to explain about Vincent, about how the vet had told them he had tumours inside. “It was just all…”
“All so sudden,” Daniel finished for her. “Yes, I know.”
“He was fine last week; better than fine in fact.” She sniffed again. “Well, you saw him.”
“I saw him around John,” Daniel commented. “Vincent’s the only other… person,” Daniel used that word deliberately, “who could see something wasn’t right. He’s been able to see it from the start, since we found him. John.”
“What are you saying, that you think Vincent’s been poisoned or something?”
Daniel shrugged. He wouldn’t put it past the stranger living in his house. He went on to tell Jill about the aftermath of the reception, about the row with his mum. “Daniel, I’m so sorry.”
He gave another shrug. “You had other things on your mind.”
She looked down, eyes brushing the floor. “Look, about Greg—”
“I doubt he’d be too happy if he saw us here right now, talking.” It seemed unbelievable that a little over two weeks ago, the three of them had been practically inseparable.
“He’s got things on his mind as well,” Jill said, looking up again.
“Oh?” asked Daniel, curious.
Jill looked left and right as if not sure she should be telling him any of this. “He’s not getting on well with his dad,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Greg told me that he almost hit him the other day, over nothing.”
“No…” Daniel couldn’t believe it. That was even more shocking than McLean. Greg and his father were so close.
“It’s true.” Jill went on t
o explain that there had been something wrong with the fishing hauls Greg’s dad had been making, and this was echoed by a lot of the fishermen on the island, Daniel found out later on. Though they’d been stored correctly, in the mass freezers as usual, when it came time to take the fish out to go to market, they’d found them all rotting. “It was the weirdest thing,” Jill continued, “and Greg’s dad suffered the most because he’d already been spending money he thought he could bank on from those catches. Stuff for his boat, stuff for his workshop.”
“So he’s been taking all this out on Greg,” said Daniel. It wasn’t a question.
“And… but don’t tell him I said anything…I think Greg’s mum as well. There have been quite a few rows in that house over the last few days.” That made Daniel sadder than anything. Greg had always had the kind of home life he’d envied: the kind he imagined living if his dad hadn’t… “Let me have a word with him and we’ll meet up or something after school for a chat.”
Daniel pursed his lips, before saying, “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Not really,” was all Jill would offer, but he hadn’t argued. At last he wasn’t alone in his suspicions, and if she—if they—could get Greg to see it as well, maybe they stood a chance of doing something about it.
So that night they’d met at the crossroads. When Greg arrived, it was obvious he hadn’t known Daniel would be present. He’d pulled a face as soon as he saw him. “What’s he doing here?” Greg had asked. “I thought you wanted to talk to me alone.”
“You need to hear what he has to say,” Jill stated, then went after him when Greg began to walk off.
Daniel watched as she talked to him, desperately trying to convince Greg to come back, to listen. “It’ll just be more of the same nonsense,” Greg snapped as she’d led him back.
“Listen, things are happening. Things none of us can explain. First they were good,” Daniel said, “but now it’s all starting to turn sour.”
“What are you talking about?” Greg snorted.
“First Vincent and Lily, now…” He didn’t want to say any more because it would betray Jill’s confidence, but Greg had already worked it out for himself. He looked at her, shaking his head.
“You… I can’t believe you’ve been… You told him, didn’t you?”
A few days ago, and especially after what he’d done at the wedding, Daniel would have given anything to see that look pass between them, to break the bond that seemed to be forming, One he had hoped might form between himself and Jill some day. But it just hurt to see the pain etched on their faces. And he realised just how much he needed Greg. How much he’d missed his best mate. Both his best mates. They needed to work together now.
“Greg, look, I just want to help. The stuff that’s going on, I don’t think people can help how they’re acting. They’re being played somehow.”
“Let me guess, by John?”
Daniel nodded emphatically. “I don’t know why I’m the only one who can see it.” He looked at Jill. “The only one apart from Vincent, that is—which made him a threat. But let me try and show you what I mean. Trust me, Greg. You used to trust me, remember?”
He held out his hand, but the boy with close-cropped hair just stared at it like it was a live snake.
“Please,” begged Jill.
Greg let out a slow breath, then stepped forward and took Daniel’s proffered hand, squeezing it as he shook it. Daniel squeezed back, and they released the grip at the same time. “I’m giving you a chance to convince me,” said Greg. “Just one chance. But this doesn’t change anything between us.”
“Fair enough,” said Daniel. One chance was all he needed, because he had to show them. Show the both of them what he already knew.
It was the one chance that all of them had now.
CHAPTER NINE
AS IT HAPPENED, it wasn’t that hard to convince Greg at all. Because if the previous couple of weeks had been the best Shorepoint could ever remember, then the next couple were certainly the worst in living memory. The fishing situation only grew worse, as the hauls dried up; the fish that were caught rotting almost instantly in the nets. Greg’s dad would come home reeking of rum from The Anchor most nights, and his wife and son had taken to going to bed early, waiting for him to pass out on the couch. It was a similar situation across town, so they heard from talking to other kids.
But that wasn’t all. Sidney Bolton—who’d been given the all clear from the kidney problems—suddenly started to develop complications with his heart. Angina, Daniel’s mum called it, though the muscles had been extremely strong on previous check-ups. Those others who John had touched, who’d begun to feel better after visits from him at the hospital or the surgery, also started developing other symptoms. These ranged from hideous boils to crippling bone maladies. Run ragged at work, Daniel’s mother was also turning more and more to artificial stimulants to see her through. He’d seen her popping pills from her pocket on a number of occasions, and definitely not ones from the regular drugs cabinet in the bathroom.
In spite of what she’d said to him about school, Daniel had skipped it again and persuaded both Jill and Greg to do the same, so they could follow John around once more. “This is just stupid,” Greg had said, about to stand out from the hedge they were hiding behind, as they waited for John to emerge from the house. Both Jill and Daniel had pulled him down again. “Just have a bit of patience,” Daniel said, reminding him that he’d promised to give all this a chance.
Eventually, John had walked out of Daniel’s house and they’d trailed him around the neighbourhood—a similar route to the one Daniel had followed him on last time. The difference was, at each house or shop he visited, instead of leaving the place with happy, smiling people in his wake, they nearly always looked either stunned or just downright depressed.
“How does this prove anything?” Greg had moaned. “Hardly anyone on the island’s happy at the moment, are they? Maybe they’re just telling him there’s no more odd-job work.”
“Either of you ever seen him doing any odd-job work? And besides, John doesn’t seem very down, does he?” Daniel had pointed out.
Neither Greg nor Jill commented on that, and it was only later when the jungle drums began, that they discovered the string of tragedies John was apparently leaving behind him here, too. Mr. and Mrs. Warren discovering there had been some kind of mix-up with their retirement fund, which would leave them nothing for their old age. Mr. Hawkins having to tell them this when they came to the post office to collect their money for the week. Mr. Humble, the butcher, discovering that his latest batch of beef had gone off, just like the fish… But the rot extended beyond the foodstuff in their little town.
If they needed any more evidence, then following John back to Daniel’s home had provided it. A meet up with Susan on the doorstep, perfectly friendly at first, but then a quick kiss as he’d let her into the house: using the key Daniel’s mum had given him.
Jill’s face had scrunched up at that one. “Everyone knows your mum… well, that she likes John. Susan knows that, too.”
“I don’t think she cares. And I don’t think she has a choice, really,” said Daniel rubbing his face.
“But we have to tell your mum, at least—”
“She won’t listen,” Daniel replied wearily. “Remember what it took to persuade you, and Greg still looks like he doesn’t believe a word of what I’m saying.”
Greg was gazing at the door that John had just closed. He shook his head when he heard his name mentioned. “So he’s doing the dirty on your mum. Who says they’re together anyway?”
“He’s living in Daniel’s house,” Jill snapped, hitting him on the arm.
“That doesn’t mean… All right, she likes him, and he seemed to like her… And Daniel’s got a beef with him over that, I get it. But what’s all this got to do with what’s happening everywhere else? With the fish, with…” He let his sentence wander away and Daniel could see the hurt in his eyes over what wa
s happening to his own family.
John had been very clever; hadn’t shown the thing with his eyes. Either he’d been inside when talking to people, or had his back to them as he had been with Susan. Daniel tried to explain it to his friend, but he wasn’t in any mood to listen.
Though not even Greg could refute this when he saw it for himself.
That happened during the amateur rugby match, where teams from the island competed against each other. The semi-final for the Shorepoint Cup was on the Sunday, and Daniel had gone along with his mum, who always provided medical assistance if it was needed. John held Mikey’s hand at the sidelines, something that made Daniel grit his teeth when he saw it. He spotted Jill and Greg just down the way with their own families: a chance for everyone to let off steam after the rubbish time they’d been having. Not to mention something they could enjoy, that would take their minds off things. But Greg looked very subdued, as did his mother. They were both there to cheer on Mr. Welles, who was part of the fishermen team.
He nodded to Jill and Greg in turn, and would have gone over were it not for wanting to remain close to Mikey. Whenever his brother was with John these days, Daniel liked to be around… just in case.
The game had started off pretty much like any other, the gathered onlookers shouting for the players they were supporting, jeering the ones they weren’t. And, although these kinds of matches were known for getting a little out of hand at times (Daniel couldn’t remember when his mother wasn’t needed for something) this one rapidly descended into complete and utter chaos.
Daniel stood behind the cordon, and watched as the men playing formed a scrum. It looked like an orange and blue spider, the respective team colours, human legs carrying it along. But instead of breaking up when the oval ball was cast out, the men continued to keep that shape. In fact they tightened up the circle, ramming against each other until they collapsed in a flurry of arms and feet.
Meanwhile, Greg’s father had the ball and was now running with it, off up the pitch towards the goal post at the far end. A couple of orange-shirted men tried to stop him, but he barged them out of the way. One attempted to tackle the man in blue, but he kicked out, catching the player a glancing blow across his jaw. Totally illegal, and potentially lethal. Daniel winced as Greg’s dad headbutted another player, then actually punched a third.