Paul sighed and stared at the opposite wall.
‘That doesn’t make sense Dad,’ she said softly.
It was probably only a few seconds before her dad finally spoke, but it seemed like a long time to Megan. It would have been so easy to give in; to make him feel better and take away the pain, but she held the silence. She just had to.
‘I can’t remember exactly what I said,’ he murmured, ‘but yes, you were seven years old. It happened just after your seventh birthday. Why does it matter exactly how old you were?’ Paul put his head in his hands as if it was all too much to bear. Although Megan felt desperately sad, she was pleased she had dared to ask her dad a question and had found out one small piece of truth.
Spurred on by her success, she began to ask some more questions. ‘I know it’s not easy Dad,’ she said gently, ‘but I would like to know more about how Mum died.’
His reply was abrupt and swift, as if he couldn’t wait to finish speaking. ‘The car she was driving hit a tree near the York Road,’ he said. ‘We don’t know why. There was nothing wrong with the car, nothing wrong with her health and no other cars were involved. That’s all you need to know.’ Paul stood up to leave. ‘What’s the point of filling your head with things you don’t need to know and painful memories that will haunt you forever like they haunt me,’ he cried.
Megan raised her voice in frustration. ‘But I need to know the truth, whatever it is,’ she blurted out. ‘I mean, why did the car hit the tree? There must be a reason.’
Paul was standing by the door. His face was ashen and his eyes watery. ‘Something probably distracted her,’ he said as his voice became louder and louder, ‘but we don’t know what it was, so let’s leave it there shall we. Just leave it alone Megan will you,’ he shouted. ‘I’ve had enough!’
The door banged loudly as he left the room. ‘OK,’ she whispered to herself. ‘It’s OK.’ But she knew in her heart that it wasn’t. Megan stroked her precious birthday card before putting it back in her memory box. She knew then that if she wanted to find out any more, she would have to find a way to talk to Irene.
That night Megan had one of her usual nightmares. Whatever was happening in her dreams, it would often involve some kind of loud bang which scared her and woke her up. When she awoke from one of these nightmares she would be crying and shaking uncontrollably, but she never called out for her dad. She always tried so hard not to upset him.
That night she had the same nightmare again, but this time there was a difference. This time the loud bang that woke her up was real. She sat up and looked at the clock. It was 1 a.m. Then she heard the sound again. It was the unmistakable sound of breaking glass and it came from the street outside. She sprang out of bed and looked out of the window. There was a large house across the road that belonged to a retired doctor, who was visiting relatives in Australia. Megan waited, not sure if she had dreamt it. She watched and waited for several minutes. Everything seemed to be quiet. She was about to get back into bed, when she heard footsteps running in the street outside. She dashed to the window just in time to see the backs of two people dressed in black hooded jackets running down the street in the direction of Oakton Hall. They were carrying backpacks.
She wished she hadn’t seen them. She didn’t want to be a witness to a crime. Her dad would never cope with that. But then she told herself that she hadn’t actually seen anything. The people she saw could have been returning home from a night out or something. She wasn’t even sure if they were men or women and there may not have even been a crime at all. But some time later, as she was drifting into an uneasy sleep, a flashing blue light filled her bedroom. Someone had called the police.
The next day, Megan got up to the sound of her dad clattering dishes as he made breakfast. She was pleasantly surprised, because this was something he hadn’t done for a long time. ‘I’ve decided to go to the doctors,’ he announced as they ate their toast and jam. ‘Bill talked me into it yesterday.’
Megan looked anxious. This was her biggest fear. If the doctor found out that her dad was too ill to look after her, she may have to go into care.
‘It’s not fair on you when I’m so tired and can’t do anything,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll see if I can get an appointment sometime this week.’
‘Maybe you don’t need to see a doctor,’ said Megan quickly. ‘You made breakfast this morning. I think you’re getting better.’
‘No, I’m not getting better,’ said Paul raising his voice. ‘It’s no good pretending I’m alright, because you know very well I’m not!’
Megan knew how fragile her dad’s moods were. Disagreeing with him now could send him back into his world of silence and she couldn’t stand it anymore. ‘OK,’ she whispered meekly. ‘That’s fine.’
Paul sighed heavily and poured himself some more tea. ‘You could go and see how Ryan is doing whilst I’m at the doctors,’ he said. ‘Then I won’t have to worry about you being here on your own while I’m out.’ Megan was pleased with this idea. There was so much she needed to talk to Ryan about. She just hoped that Bill would leave them alone for a while so they could talk in private.
It was the end of the week before Paul went to the doctors and Megan went round to Ryan’s as arranged. A slim fair-haired woman in a smart navy-blue dress and high heels opened the door. Her voice was pleasant but high pitched. ‘Oh hello. You must be Megan,’ she said briskly. ‘I’m Helena, Ryan’s step-mum. Come in. Come in.’
She led Megan through to the lounge. Ryan was sitting on the settee with his leg propped up on a pillow, playing a game on his phone. He didn’t have time to speak before Helena started talking again. ‘I can’t thank you enough for helping Ryan,’ she said. ‘I’m always telling him to take care, but he can be so clumsy. I think he’s getting to those teenage years when he’s growing so fast that his body can’t keep up.’
Her laugh was even more high pitched than her speaking voice and she reminded Megan of a talkative parrot. She soon realised that there would be little chance of speaking to Ryan if Helena was around.
‘Put that phone away Ryan,’ snapped Helena, ‘you’ve got a visitor. Would you like a drink Megan?’ she carried on. ‘I was just going to make some coffee. Do you drink coffee or would you rather have tea? Ryan would rather drink pop, but I’m always telling him that pop is bad for him and…’
‘Tea will be fine. Thank you,’ Megan interrupted.
Ryan seemed as relieved as she was when Helena finally left the room. ‘She’ll be going back to work soon,’ he muttered. ‘She’s just waiting for Bill to come back. He’s taken Skippy for a walk.’ Megan dropped her voice. ‘Do you know if there’ve been any more burglaries?’
‘Yeah. Grandad told me the house across the road was broken into earlier this week. What are you whispering for?’
Megan moved to a chair facing the door, so she could stop talking when Helena came back in. ‘I haven’t told anyone, but I heard glass smashing the other night and I saw two people with backpacks running down the road.’
Ryan lowered his voice. ‘Could one of them have been Kirsty?’
‘Would you two like some biscuits?’ called Helena from the kitchen.
‘Yes please.’ they chorused.
Megan was annoyed at Ryan’s suggestion. ‘I don’t know why you suspect Kirsty. We’ve no proof she’s involved.’
Ryan leaned forward. ‘We can’t prove it, but I’ve been thinking about it. Everything points to it being her.’
‘Like what?’ said Megan.
‘She could easily climb in through a smashed window, then stash the stolen stuff in that huge bag of hers and run off,’ said Ryan excitedly. ‘Have you noticed how she’s always running near the watchtower? I bet she’s hiding the stolen goods in there. She works at the Hall so she could easily have stolen the key.’ He sat back with a sense of satisfaction, but Megan was becoming irritated. ‘That’s a
ll just coincidence,’ she said. ‘You just don’t like her for some reason.’
‘Help yourself to these,’ said Helena cheerfully as she placed a plate of biscuits on the coffee table and disappeared back into the kitchen.
Ryan glanced at the door to make sure Helena had gone before he carried on. ‘Kirsty’s too good to be true with all that cheerfulness. It’s all put on. I know it is. She’s just like Helena.’
‘That doesn’t make her a thief though does it,’ replied Megan. ‘And she certainly wasn’t cheerful when you fell. She was panicking then.’
‘Did you see the way she hugged Skippy when we got to the bench?’ said Ryan.
‘I mean, I love dogs, but that was seriously weird.’ He waved his hand towards the biscuits. ‘Pass me a chocolate one will you, Megan? I can’t get up.’
Megan suddenly felt bad that she hadn’t asked Ryan how he was feeling, but he seemed OK as he munched on his biscuit.
‘Your dad looked so mad when we came back with Irene,’ said Ryan. ‘What did he say?’
There was a loud bark as the front door opened and Skippy scampered in, followed by Bill. When Helena eventually announced she was going back to work, it took her a long time to leave. She fussed over Ryan and even brought him a blanket, as if he were a young child. Megan noticed that Ryan became surly when Helena was around and he hardly responded when she spoke to him. Bill was also becoming agitated.
‘You need to buy a better lock for your shed Bill,’ said Helena as she put on her coat. ‘With all these burglaries happening round here, you can’t be too careful. You’ve got some valuable car parts in there.’
Bill growled a response. ‘OK. I’ll get a new lock next week.’
‘Next week might be too late,’ said Helena, pulling her car keys from the depths of her handbag. ‘Oh, and by the way,’ she added, ‘You need to get some more bread. There’s none left in the freezer.’
You could almost hear the sigh of relief from everyone when Helena finally left.
Bill rolled his eyes in frustration. ‘I’d better go and buy some bread then, hadn’t I?’ he said. ‘I won’t be long.’
Megan was thankful for some time to talk to Ryan alone. She wanted to tell him what she had found out. ‘My dad was all worked up when I got back,’ said Megan, ‘but he calmed down after a bit, so I was able to ask him about the car crash.’
‘What did he tell you?’ asked Ryan.
‘He wouldn’t say much,’ said Megan, ‘but he said it happened just after my seventh birthday, even though he once told me it happened when I was six.’
‘That’s a bit strange,’ said Ryan. ‘Did he tell you where it happened?’
‘Not exactly,’ said Megan. ‘He just said it was somewhere off the York Road, but I already knew that.’
Ryan was becoming more intrigued. ‘Did you ask him what caused it?’
‘The car she was driving hit a tree,’ explained Megan. ‘Dad thinks she was distracted by something, because there was nothing wrong with her or the car and there were no other cars involved.’
‘Well at least you know now anyway,’ said Ryan trying to sound comforting.
‘But there are still things I don’t understand!’ exclaimed Megan.
‘Like what?’.
‘Like where I was when the car crashed.’
Ryan was puzzled. ‘Why is that important?’
Megan tried to explain. ‘My birthday’s at the beginning of August. If it happened just after my birthday, then it would be the summer holidays. I wouldn’t be at school during the holidays, so where was I?’
Ryan was thoughtful. ‘Maybe your dad was looking after you,’ he suggested, ‘or you were with a child-minder.’
Megan shook her head. ‘No, there’s more to it than that. I know there is. My dad was very secretive when I asked him for more details. He said there’s no point filling my head with memories that will haunt me. Well how can I have memories of the crash if I wasn’t even there?’
Ryan bit his lip. ‘Megan,’ he said cautiously, ‘I’ve just thought of something.’
‘What?’
‘Do you think you could have been in the car when it crashed?’ he said softly. ‘You could have blotted it out of your memory. That can happen you know. I once saw a programme about it.’
Megan’s face drained of colour. ‘If I was in the car, I could have been the one who distracted her. Maybe that’s why no-one will tell me what happened.’
Ryan and Megan were so deep in thought that they didn’t notice Skippy as she wandered over to the biscuits on the table. All they heard was a loud snap as she gobbled one of the biscuits, sending the plate flying to the floor. ‘Skippy!’ they both shouted at once. But Skippy had run off into the kitchen to hide. It made them both laugh. Megan picked up the biscuits from the floor and carried them into the kitchen. Skippy, who was under the table, looked longingly at the rest of the biscuits. Her soft appealing eyes were nothing like the harsh golden eyes of the wild cat. Megan smiled. She took a couple of biscuits from the plate and threw them to Skippy, before putting the rest in the bin. Skippy had been a distraction, but the thought that she might be to blame for her mother’s death caused a pain in her heart that just wouldn’t go away. She had to find someone who would tell her the truth, no matter how painful it would be.
Bill’s phone was in the kitchen and next to it was a little book of telephone numbers. It crossed Megan’s mind that if Bill knew Irene’s late husband, he might still have their phone number in his phone book, and she was right. She looked around for a pen, tore a piece of paper from a nearby pad and copied down the number.
‘You OK Megan?’ Ryan called.
‘I’ve found Irene’s number in Bill’s phone book,’ she said, as she came back into the lounge. ‘I’m going to call her. I want to see if I can persuade her to tell me what she knows, but I don’t know when I can do it. We only have a landline and my dad hardly ever leaves me in the house on my own.’
Ryan put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his phone. ‘You can call her on this.’
Megan hesitated. ‘I need to think about it first. I’m not sure what to say.’
‘Just ask her if you were in the car when it crashed,’ said Ryan.
Megan began to have second thoughts. ‘Maybe it’s not such a good idea to phone,’ she said. ‘I might get too upset, but I could write her a letter explaining how important it is for me to know the truth. I know her address.’
‘Have you ever asked my Grandad about the crash?’ asked Ryan. ‘He must know something about what happened.’
‘I did ask him once,’ said Megan. ‘It was some time ago. He got really upset and told me to ask my dad, so I never mentioned it again.’
‘What makes you think Irene will tell you anything?’ said Ryan.
‘She told me she would try to persuade Bill to go and see my dad,’ said Megan. ‘She was my mum’s best friend and I think deep down she really wants to help me.’
Ryan sighed in frustration. ‘Why won’t your dad talk to you about things? Is there something wrong with him?’
But before Megan had a chance to answer, there was a knock at the door.
‘Grandad’s forgotten his keys again,’ said Ryan.
Megan looked out of the window. ‘It’s not your grandad.’ she cried in amazement. ‘It’s Kirsty!’
‘What does she want?’ grumbled Ryan. ‘Don’t answer the door.’
‘It’s too late. She’s seen me,’ said Megan. She bundled the barking Skippy into the kitchen and opened the door.
‘Megan,’ said Kirsty effusively, ‘I didn’t expect to see you here. I’ve come to see how Ryan is.’ She waved a box of chocolates in front of Megan as she stepped into the house. ‘I thought these might cheer him up,’ she grinned.
Ryan’s face was glum. ‘Thanks,’ he muttered grudging
ly as Kirsty handed him the chocolates. ‘How did you know where I lived?’
Kirsty winked at Megan and spoke in a mock sinister tone. ‘Ah! I have ways of finding things out,’ she joked.
‘I bet you have!’ replied Ryan knowingly. ‘I bet you know all about everyone round here and what houses they live in as well.’
‘I see you aren’t any more cheerful,’ said Kirsty pulling a face. ‘Is your ankle still painful?’
Ryan’s continued rudeness was making Megan feel uncomfortable. He seemed to be ignoring Kirsty’s question so she answered for him. ‘It’s a bad sprain not a break and it’s much better than it was, isn’t it Ryan?’
‘I know it’s just a sprain,’ replied Kirsty, ‘Irene told me.’
Megan was surprised. ‘I didn’t know you were a friend of Irene’s.’
‘I didn’t know her before I met you,’ she replied. ‘I happened to see her when I ran past the gatehouses this morning. She was just going out in her car.’
‘So that’s how you know where I live,’ mumbled Ryan.
Kirsty waved both her hands in the air. ‘Hurray! He’s talking to me at last!’ she mocked.
Ryan sat back and glared at Kirsty as she sat down in Bill’s chair. They could hear Skippy still barking in the kitchen. ‘You can let Skippy in here if you like,’ said Kirsty. ‘Was she OK after the fire?’
‘She was fine,’ answered Ryan coldly. ‘It was good of you to cuddle her so much. You must love dogs as much as people.’
‘Do you have a dog of your own?’ asked Megan, trying to be more friendly.
‘Sadly no,’ answered Kirsty, ‘but I used to help out at a dog’s home, when I was younger.’
Ryan didn’t say anything, but when she stood up to look into Bill’s glass display cabinet, he watched her suspiciously.
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