‘Like the watchtower in the woods,’ said Ryan quickly. ‘I expect you go past there a lot when you go running don’t you Kirsty?’ he remarked. ‘Do staff have a key to that tower? If you had a key, you could go in there for a rest or even store things in it.’
Megan gave him a disapproving look, but Kirsty just laughed. She seemed unphased by Ryan’s strange remarks.
Turning a corner brought them to the back of the kitchens, where a man in a white apron was stubbing a cigarette out on the ground with his shoe. Megan noticed he had a mop of curly hair which was so jet black that it looked like he had dyed it. The man hadn’t seen them coming and jumped as Kirsty scolded him. ‘Joe Hawkins. I thought you were giving that up,’ she quipped.
The man swung round angrily. He looked shocked when he saw Megan and Ryan and stared at them strangely. ‘Who’s this?’ he asked nervously.
‘This is Megan, and Ryan,’ laughed Kirsty. ‘Did we make you jump? We’re on our way to the pool.’ Moving closer to face him, Kirsty leaned over and pushed a red cigarette packet further down into his shirt pocket, so it was out of sight. ‘Don’t let the boss see that,’ she warned.
‘I don’t care. I’m leaving next week anyway,’ replied Joe, still staring at Megan and Ryan.
‘Might see you later if you’re out running,’ said Kirsty. ‘Come on you two. I’m already late.’
Joe followed them with his eyes as they walked past him and on towards the pool. Megan felt she had seen Joe somewhere before, but she couldn’t remember where.
‘If Sarah finds out he’s been smoking at work there’ll be trouble,’ said Kirsty when they were out of earshot. ‘Even if he has only got a week to go. He’s promised her he’ll cut down.’
‘Do you mean Sarah who works on reception?’ asked Megan. ‘Is she Joe’s girlfriend?’
‘No. She’s his wife,’ said Kirsty. ‘They have a little girl. She’s really cute.’
Kirsty led them back into the leisure centre through a side door leading to a long corridor.
‘Do you smoke Kirsty?’ asked Ryan as they walked.
‘Definitely not,’ she replied, ‘and if Joe doesn’t stop smoking soon he won’t have enough breath for that marathon he keeps telling everyone he’s training for. Sarah says he often goes running in the middle of the night, because he can’t sleep, which is a bit stupid if you ask me.’
‘That’s crazy,’ said Megan.
‘Yeah, that sums Joe up really,’ laughed Kirsty. ‘A bit crazy.’
When they reached the entrance to the changing rooms, Kirsty stopped. ‘Do you want to watch my lesson? I’ll be finished in about half an hour. Then I can show you how to use the new climbing wall if you want.’
‘No thanks,’ said Ryan rather too quickly. ‘We’ve got to get back.’
Kirsty was still smiling when she left them, but Megan was becoming irritated by Ryan’s rudeness. She felt like walking away, but she knew her dad wouldn’t want her to go home alone. She had also promised to show Ryan round all the facilities, so despite her feelings, she decided to carry on.
‘Now you’ve seen the pool, do you think you’ll join the swimming club?’ asked Megan as they made their way out.
Ryan shook his head. ‘Not if Kirsty’s the swimming coach.’
‘What’s so wrong with Kirsty?’ asked Megan.
‘She’s just too cheerful and in your face all the time,’ said Ryan. ‘I can’t stand people like that.’
Megan sighed. ‘They do have other teachers as well as Kirsty you know.’
‘I just like to swim on my own really,’ said Ryan, ‘and anyway I don’t have much spare time for swimming.’
‘Well what do you do with yourself at weekends then, if you have no time for swimming?’ asked Megan.
‘I have a lot of school work to do and I take Skippy out for walks,’ he replied defensively, ‘but I don’t know why I need to tell you what I do.’
Megan was annoyed by his attitude. She was beginning to see a side of him that she disliked. ‘When do you see your parents then?’ she asked.
‘My dad comes to see me when he has the time!’ he said bitterly. ‘But he has to work longer hours to get enough money, so he can finish our new house.’
Megan was curious. ‘Why don’t you go to the house at weekends? Don’t they want you to help?’
‘I don’t want to go,’ he answered angrily. ‘I’d rather just take Skippy out for walks or watch TV.’
Megan realised that she didn’t know much about Ryan’s family, except that his dad was called Andy and they’d moved up from London to build a house in a nearby village.
‘Don’t you miss your mum and dad?’ asked Megan rather bluntly.
Ryan’s off-hand reaction took her by surprise. ‘I couldn’t care less!’ he snapped. ‘Let’s get back to Irene’s. I want to see if she’s got the cat out of the watchtower.’
As Ryan strode away, Megan wished she hadn’t asked so many questions. They walked back over the bridge without speaking until the sudden arrival of a police car in the car park prompted Megan to speak again. ‘Do you think they’re investigating the burglary at the Hall?’
‘Who knows,’ said Ryan. ‘They haven’t arrested anyone for the other burglaries yet have they?’
Two police officers got out of their car and walked slowly across the iron bridge as Megan and Ryan set off back to the gatehouse.
The wind had dropped completely by the time they arrived at Irene’s house and there was a strange stillness in the woods. They noticed that Irene’s gate was still open and the bins were still on their sides. It looked like she had left in a hurry. They were relieved to find the pens were empty and there was no sign of the cat. The big black car was still parked outside, but as no-one answered when they knocked on the gatehouse door, they made their way towards the watchtower.
They were half-way up the track that ran behind the bench, when they met Irene. She was on her way down, struggling to carry a large box-cage. It was covered with a cloth, but they knew by the low growl coming from within, that she had managed to rescue Zoe. Ryan reached out to take hold of one side of the cage. ‘Watch out!’ cried Irene. ‘Her claws can extend through the wire. That’s why I’ve got the cloth over it.’
After much growling and hissing from Zoe, Irene and Ryan managed to manoeuvre the cage so they could carry it safely together. But the track was steep and narrow and it was slow going. Once they reached the wider, flatter path by the bench, the cage became much easier to carry.
‘How did you get Zoe into the cage?’ asked Ryan.
Irene looked relieved to be on firmer ground. ‘Zoe knows this cage well,’ she explained, ‘and she knows my voice too, so it was something familiar for her. And besides, I think she was so hungry that she dragged herself into the cage to get at the meat in there. Her leg looks like it’s stopped bleeding, but she may have broken a bone.’
‘What about the bag?’ asked Megan.
Irene shook her head. ‘I couldn’t reach it.’
Ryan looked disappointed.
‘But then I got a stick,’ she went on, ‘and I managed to drag something out, but I didn’t have time to see if I could reach the rest.’ She nodded towards the bag on her shoulder. ‘It’s in here,’ she added. ‘I’ll show you when we get back.’
Ryan’s eagerness to find out what was in the bag made him try to walk a little faster, but it wasn’t easy carrying the cage and it took some time to reach the gatehouse.
With more snarling and spitting from Zoe, they eased the large cage first through Irene’s front door and then through the kitchen door, until they finally placed it on the kitchen floor. When Irene took the cover off the cage, the cat leapt up with a hiss, clinging to the top part of the wire with her huge claws, but then sank down again almost immediately. There was a thin trickle of blood coming from her nose. Irene
gasped at the sight of it and put the cloth back over the cage. ‘I think she’ll calm down better in the dark,’ she said anxiously. ‘She’s just had some meat, so let’s leave her in peace for a while. I’ll take a closer look at her later.’
They moved into the sitting room and talked about what might be wrong with Zoe. Irene thought the cat’s leg would eventually heal, but she feared she might have got pneumonia after spending so many nights in the cold without enough food. However, as the conversation went on, she became a little more optimistic. ‘I’ll put some straw inside the cage for bedding and keep the heating on tonight,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘A few days in a warm room with some proper food and water will hopefully do the trick. Then I’ll put her in one of the pens. She still has some spark left in her, so that’s a good sign.’
Ryan was interested in the cat, but he was more interested in what Irene had recovered from the bag. ‘Can we look inside?’ he said pointing to Irene’s shoulder bag.
Irene took out a strip of brightly coloured ribbon with a small disc attached to the end of it. Handling it carefully, she placed it on a nearby coffee table. ‘Don’t touch it!’ she warned. ‘Not unless you want the police to find your fingerprints all over it when I take it to the station. My prints will be on it, because I found it, but it’s best if you two don’t get involved.’
They both nodded in agreement and hung back. Ryan was looking thoughtful. ‘I think I might know who this belongs to,’ he said gravely. ‘My grandad’s friend Mary was burgled some time ago. They stole some jewellery, but they also stole her grandad’s war medals.’
Irene turned the disc over in her hand. ‘Yes. It’s a First World War medal,’ she said. ‘I think this is the type that everyone got if they were in the war, so I don’t think it’s worth a fortune, but it will mean a lot to someone.’
She turned to look directly at Megan. ‘We need to reunite people with the things that are precious to them, don’t we Megan?’ she said pointedly. ‘Things like medals and photographs are sometimes all we have left to remind us of people who are no longer with us.’
Irene’s stare made Megan feel uncomfortable. She felt a pang of guilt. She guessed that Irene knew she had taken the photograph from the shelf. Otherwise she would not have spoken directly to her in that way.
Megan slowly took the photograph from her coat pocket and handed it back to Irene.
‘Sorry,’ she murmured faintly as Irene gently took it from her and replaced it on the shelf.
‘I just want to know why you have a photo of me and my mother in your house.’
Ryan looked shocked. He knew nothing at all about what was going on.
Irene’s face darkened. ‘I’m really sorry Megan, but your father asked me not to talk to you about your mother,’ she said shakily. ‘He said he would tell you what happened when you were old enough.’
A pain swelled up in Megan’s stomach as the frustration began to take hold. ‘What do you mean “What happened?”,’ she cried. ‘I thought she died in a car crash. That’s what my dad told me.’
Irene’s words were calm, but her face betrayed her panic. ‘Yes, she did. But …’
‘But what?’ Megan’s voice was high pitched as she struggled to catch her breath. ‘Why will no-one tell me exactly what happened?’ she blurted out angrily. ‘I’m nearly thirteen. Surely I’m old enough to know by now, aren’t I?’
‘You need to talk to your dad,’ was all Irene would say, as she hurriedly left the room before anyone could see her wipe away the solitary tear that fell from her eye.
It felt to Megan like a gunshot had pierced her heart, stunning her into an uneasy silence. With shaking legs, she sank down into the chair by the shelf. Something was happening to her that had never happened before. Strange new memories were beginning to seep back into her consciousness. She remembered running out of a gate into some woods and she remembered someone calling: ‘Megan, where are you? It’s not safe to hide in the woods. Megan. Megan!’
‘Are you OK Megan?’ Ryan’s voice brought her back to reality as Irene came into the room and put the medal in a plastic bag. She spoke as if nothing had happened. ‘I’ll take this to the police station later, after I’ve made Zoe more comfortable,’ she said. ‘But don’t worry, I won’t mention you two.’
‘Thank you,’ mumbled Ryan awkwardly.
‘It’s me that should thank you for looking after Zoe and telling me where to find her,’ said Irene. She took a sideways look at Megan, who was still staring at the shelf. Megan had a sick feeling rising in her stomach, but she tried to keep calm and stay quiet in the hope that it would soon go away.
Ryan moved towards the front door. He felt so uncomfortable with everything that had happened – he just wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
‘Just one thing before you go,’ said Irene anxiously. ‘No-one must find out there are wild cats in these woods. Otherwise they’ll be in danger. You must promise to keep their existence a secret.’ She looked at them gravely. ‘Please,’ she added.
They both nodded.
‘Thank you,’ she said, as she followed them to the door. ‘I hope I can trust you.’
5
Fire
So much had happened in such a short space of time that it was difficult for Megan and Ryan to talk as they walked home. Although Ryan was intrigued to find out more about Megan’s mother, he didn’t want to upset Megan by asking her questions. He was also still thinking about the wild cats and wondering about the bag in the watchtower.
Neither of them spoke until they arrived outside Ryan’s house. Ryan noticed that the lounge curtains in Megan’s house were closed.
‘Is your dad out?’ he asked.
‘No,’ said Megan trying to sound casual. ‘He often likes to sit in the dark. I expect he’s got the TV on.’ She moved quickly towards her gate, hoping he wouldn’t ask any more questions.
‘Do you want to come with me tomorrow?’ asked Ryan suddenly. ‘I’m taking Skippy for a walk in the woods. We could have another look at that bag in the tower.’
Megan’s first thought was that Ryan was only saying that to make her feel better, but the thought of getting away from her dad, even for a short time, was becoming very attractive. ‘OK,’ she said trying not to sound too keen. ‘I’ll ask my dad. He might let me go, now he’s met you.’
‘I’ll call for you about ten,’ said Ryan as they parted.
Megan had forgotten to take the spare key, so she knocked on the door and waited. When she heard her dad shuffling along the polished hallway in his old slippers, she felt a pang of guilt. At that moment in time, she actually wanted to be somewhere else; anywhere else. She wanted to slow everything down, so she could stand outside her door for ever and never have to go inside.
As soon as her dad opened the door, she could tell by his face that he was in one of his silent moods. She’d had enough practice at trying to read him. Megan was scared of these silences. It made her think that it must be her fault. It made her think that she had done something terribly wrong, even though she didn’t know what it could be. There was a time when she would try to snap her dad out of it by chatting to him and asking him questions, but she found his one word answers so exhausting that she eventually gave up.
She went into the kitchen and tried to distract herself by emptying the washing machine. Thankfully the blood stains had come out of her coat and glove, so she hung them over the radiator to dry.
She looked in the freezer to see what they might have to eat. There was a time when she was younger when her dad used to cook. He wasn’t very good at it, but he used to make the effort. Now he didn’t seem to care about anything. She pulled out a couple of frozen meals and put them in the microwave. She couldn’t remember if her mum was a good cook or not, but she always thought that things would surely be a lot better if her mum was still alive.
Megan put her dad’s
meal on a tray and took it to him in the lounge. He was sitting in his chair, staring at the fire. She said nothing as she handed him the tray. She had learnt not to challenge the silences. Sitting alone at the kitchen table, she nibbled at her food. She didn’t feel much like eating.
When she went to collect her dad’s tray she was pleased to see he had eaten the meal, because sometimes, when he was like this, he would refuse to eat. Even though she hated these silent spells, it sometimes worked to her advantage. Her dad was less inclined to make a fuss about things when he was like this. He barely nodded when she asked him if she could go out with Ryan again in the morning and that at least gave her something to look forward to.
Megan went to bed early that night, but found it hard to sleep. She kept thinking about Irene and wondering why there were so many secrets surrounding the death of her mother. She decided to take a look inside the memory box that she kept on her bedside table. It had things in it that reminded her of her mother. She wondered if something in there might give her some information. Was there something she had missed over the years? Along with the many photos in the box, there were some personal items that belonged to her mother like a silver bangle, a small opal ring and a book that her mum used to read to her when she was a baby. Then there were the birthday cards from long ago. Some were home-made cards that Megan had sent to her mother with childish drawings on the front and lots of crooked kisses. But there was one card that she had always wondered about. It was a birthday card from both her parents, sent to Megan on her seventh birthday. She always thought this was strange, because her dad told her she was only six when her mum died. She was always meaning to ask her dad about it, but she never seemed to find the right moment. A wave of tiredness suddenly came over her. The day had been quite eventful and she needed time to rest. She yawned as she put the box back on her bedside table and snuggled under her duvet.
Red Snow Page 5