‘Nice antiques in here,’ she remarked. ‘Your grandad has some interesting things.’
She picked up a photo of Skippy from on top of the cabinet. ‘I know who this is,’ she said.
Ryan was angry. ‘All Bill’s things are very precious to him,’ he said, ‘and if anyone were to steal them it would break his heart.’
Kirsty was either unaware of Ryan’s feelings towards her or she pretended not to care.
‘Yes, that would be terrible,’ she agreed. ‘Well, I’d better be going. I’ve some more running to do yet and I’ve got to take my car into Ray’s Garage. One of my tyres is losing air.’
Ryan remembered that she started to deny she had a two-seater sports car when they were in the woods, but he was convinced she was lying. ‘Do you need special tyres for that sports car?’ he asked casually.
Kirsty looked slightly annoyed. ‘I haven’t got a sports car. I don’t know where you got that idea from Ryan. I only have a second-hand Mini.’
Megan tried to explain. ‘You said you had a new red car, so when we saw a red Sprite in the car park at Oakton Hall the other day, we thought it was yours.’
Kirsty laughed. ‘I think I know the car you mean. I only wish it were mine, but that’s Sarah’s. You know her Megan, it’s Joe’s wife. She works on reception at the Hall.’
‘How can she afford a classic sports car on a receptionist’s wages?’ asked Ryan, cynically.
‘Her dad owns Ray’s Garage in York,’ explained Kirsty. ‘He’s a classic car dealer. He lets her drive the cars to work now and again. Anyway, what time is it? I’ve got to go.’ It was when she rolled up her sleeve to look at her watch, that Megan saw the scars on her arm and hand. She had noticed them before in the swimming pool and she wondered how Kirsty had got them.
Bill arrived back just as Kirsty was leaving. ‘I didn’t know you had so many admirers Ryan,’ he said, as Kirsty drove away. Ryan quickly changed the subject. ‘Grandad, did you once tell me you used to work at Ray’s Garage in York?’
Bill was surprised. ‘Yes, I worked there for many years. Why?’
‘Ray’s daughter Sarah works at the Hall,’ said Ryan coolly. ‘Does Ray have classic cars?’
Bill was always delighted to talk about cars. ‘Yes. I used to work on them. Mostly sports cars. I became quite an expert on them in the end,’ he said proudly.
‘We saw one in the car park at the Hall,’ said Ryan. ‘Kirsty said Sarah had driven it there.’
‘Quite possibly,’ said Bill smiling. ‘Sarah was always interested in driving the sports cars, but not so keen on cleaning them,’ he chuckled. ‘She didn’t want to spoil her nails. Mind you, Ray has two youths running a car wash there now I believe. They were down by the shops yesterday posting leaflets through doors.’
Bill’s eyes glazed over as he started to recall his working days with fondness. ‘Your dad used to come with me to the garage when he was younger Ryan,’ he said warmly, ‘and Paul used to come too sometimes,’ he said turning to Megan. ‘The things they used to get up to when I wasn’t looking …’
‘Does Ray have one of those Sprites with headlights on the bonnet, Grandad?’ said Ryan. ‘What did you call it Megan?’
‘A Frog-Eyed Sprite,’ said Megan.
Bill didn’t answer straight away. He looked anxious. ‘Yes, he still has a couple of those I think,’ he mumbled. ‘I’ll go and make some tea.’
Ryan was shocked. He had never known his grandad become suddenly silent like this before and he couldn’t help but wonder why.
There was a tap at the window. Paul had returned from the doctors and Megan went to let him in.
A few seconds later, Paul put his head round the door. To Megan’s surprise he sounded quite calm. ‘Glad you’re on the mend Ryan,’ he said. ‘Give my regards to your dad when you see him. We were at school together you know.’
When Bill came back into the lounge after Megan and her dad had left, he was carrying the local newspaper. ‘Paul’s just given me this to read,’ he said pointing to a short paragraph on an inside page.
‘What is it?’ asked Ryan.
Bill handed the paper to Ryan. ‘Read it to me will you Ryan, I can’t find my glasses.’
Ryan took the paper from Bill and read it aloud.
BURGLARS STEAL FAMILY WAR MEDALS
First World War medals belonging to a brave soldier who served in the army were stolen from a house in Lakeside Close, Oakton on February 2nd. The medals belonged to the late grandfather of a 70-year-old woman. The burglars also stole some jewellery including her grandmother’s engagement ring. Detective Constable Sharon Rowlands of the local CID said, ‘The medals and the ring are of great sentimental value to the victim and are irreplaceable.’ Anyone with any information is asked to contact 101.
Bill sighed. ‘Poor Mary,’ he said softly as he sat down in his chair.
‘Whoever stole those things must have hearts of stone.’
7
The Special Envelope
Dear Irene. Megan put down her pen for the third time that night. She just couldn’t think what to write. In fact, that wasn’t the only thing she couldn’t do. All she could think about was finding out if she was to blame for what happened to her mother. The idea tormented her to such an extent that she couldn’t face getting up the next day. All she wanted to do was lie on her bed and hide under the duvet. When her dad came into her room to see what was wrong, she told him she wasn’t feeling well. He looked annoyed.
‘That’s all I need,’ he said abruptly. ‘I’ve got enough to worry about without you being sick.’
Megan couldn’t believe he was so unsympathetic. ‘I can’t help feeling ill Dad,’ she said angrily, ‘and anyway, what exactly have you got to worry about?’
‘I wasn’t going to tell you, but I’m going for some tests soon,’ he replied.
Megan began to feel scared. ‘What kind of tests?’
‘The doctor wants to check there’s nothing physically wrong with me before she sends me to see one of those counsellors,’ said Paul quietly.
Megan had once seen someone called a counsellor when she was much younger. A woman had come to the house a few times to help her make her memory box, just after her mum died and it had made her feel a little better. But the thought of her dad getting worse upset her and she was terrified of going into care. ‘You’re not very ill though Dad, are you?’ she said hopefully. ‘I’m sure they’ll sort it out soon.’
But Paul didn’t answer. To Megan’s horror, he put his head in his hands and began to cry like a baby. She didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t the first time her dad had broken down in front of her, but it was still a shock. ‘It’s OK Dad,’ she said gently. ‘I’m sorry I’m a worry to you. I’ll be fine.’
She wanted to help him, but she also felt angry. This was not how it was meant to be. A father should be the one looking after his daughter, not the other way round. Her mind flashed back to a time when she was very young. Her dad had taken her to a park and she had hurt her leg falling off a swing. She remembered how he had comforted her and how he carried her all the way home, singing silly songs to make her feel better. She watched helplessly as Paul dabbed his weary eyes. When he looked at her, he didn’t seem like the same dad any more. It seemed like he was empty inside.
Megan continued to be worried. She didn’t feel like eating and she didn’t sleep much either. On the day before she was due to go back to school after the half-term break, her dad decided to make some beans on toast for them both. As they sat at the table, Paul watched her as she pushed the beans around the plate with her fork.
‘For goodness sake Megan either eat the food or leave it alone,’ he snapped.
‘I told you I wasn’t hungry,’ she answered.
‘I know you said you weren’t feeling very well,’ said Paul a little more kindly, ‘but is there s
omething worrying you? Is that why you’re not eating?’
Megan was surprised. Her dad rarely noticed how she was feeling these days. She took a deep breath. Now was her chance to ask him about the crash. After all, she thought to herself, things can’t get much worse.
‘Dad,’ she said firmly. ‘Was I in the car when mum crashed?’
Paul looked astonished. ‘Whatever gave you that idea?’
‘Just tell me Dad,’ she pleaded.
‘I’m telling you now Megan,’ replied Paul slowly. ‘You were not, most definitely not in the car and that’s the truth.’
When Megan looked into her dad’s eyes, she believed him. But there were now more questions to ask. ‘If I wasn’t in the car, then where was I? I was only just seven and it was the summer holidays, so why wasn’t I with my mum?’ She was shaking now. The lack of food and sleep was having an effect.
Paul looked upset by Megan’s question. She was convinced he was going to shout at her like he usually did, but to her surprise he just sighed impatiently and when he spoke there was a deep bitterness in his voice. ‘Someone else was looking after you,’ he said. ‘And before you ask who that person was,’ he continued, ‘I will tell you. It was that woman, Irene Croft! She was the one who was supposed to be looking after you while your mother went to York.’
Megan was shocked at his reply. ‘What do you mean supposed to be looking after me?’
Paul stood up and kicked his chair away from the table with such force that it fell over and crashed to the floor. ‘Now look what you’ve made me do,’ he bellowed, picking up the chair. ‘Why are you pushing me into telling you things Megan?’ he shouted. ‘I’m not ready for it.’
‘Please Dad, don’t get upset,’ she pleaded. ‘I just want to know a few more small details that’s all.’
Paul ignored her and stormed into the lounge. There was a time when such an incident would have sent her crying to her room, but this time Megan decided to follow him. However, when she stood up she felt strange. The room seemed to be swirling round. She gripped the edge of the kitchen table and heaved herself up. This time she would not give up her efforts to find out the truth. She braced herself as she took a deep breath and stumbled towards the lounge.
Paul didn’t look up when Megan came in. He was slumped in his chair staring at the floor. She steadied herself on the arm of the settee and sat down shakily. She knew she had to be brave. She knew she had to keep up the pressure on her dad, but she just wished she didn’t feel so strange. ‘I already know some things Dad,’ she said weakly, ‘and I’m starting to remember other things myself.’
Paul sat upright in his chair. He looked alarmed. ‘What sort of things are you talking about?’ he said. ‘What exactly do you remember about the crash?’
What little colour Megan had in her cheeks suddenly drained away, as she realised what her dad was trying to say. She let out a gasp as if she couldn’t get her breath.
‘What do you mean “What do I remember?”’ she cried. ‘Did I see it happen? Was I there?’
The next thing Megan knew she was lying on the settee with her eyes closed. She thought she could hear a woman calling her name again. She thought she was in the woods. She was hiding, but it was just a game. It was a game of hide and seek. ‘Megan! Megan!’ she heard again. But this time it was her dad’s voice.
‘You’ve fainted Megan,’ said her dad trying his best to keep calm. ‘You’ll be OK when you’ve had something to eat and drink. Sit up and I’ll get you some water.’
As Megan began to gather her thoughts, she knew it was no good asking her dad for any more information. She had spoilt it by fainting. She was angry with herself for being so weak, but the game of hide and seek in the woods was worrying her. Who was the woman calling her name? Was it Irene or was it someone else? This was the second time she’d had this memory. Was she remembering something that really happened, or was it just her mind playing tricks on her?
‘Don’t ask me any more about the crash Megan,’ said Paul sternly as he passed her some water. ‘You’re making us both ill with your constant questions. I will decide when you’re old enough to be told everything and it’s not now.’
As Megan sipped her water she realised just how much she needed to talk to Irene. If Irene was looking after her when her mother went to York, she was bound to know something about that day.
Later that night, Megan sat in her room and took out her pen once more. Dear Irene, she wrote. Please help me find the truth…The words came more easily now. First, she wrote down everything her dad had told her and then she wrote down everything she still wanted to know. She asked Irene if anyone actually saw the crash and asked her why everyone was being so secretive about it. She realised that if Irene sent a letter back to her, there was a risk her dad would open it. So she told Irene she would call at the gatehouse with Ryan when he was better. She explained that she would have to go with Ryan, because her dad would never let her go out alone.
The next morning, whilst her dad was having a shave, she took a stamp and an envelope from the drawer in the kitchen and took it back upstairs to write the address. Then she put the letter in her school bag and posted it on her way to school. All she had to do now was wait for Ryan’s ankle to get better.
A week later, when Megan called to see Ryan after school, it was obvious that something had happened. He couldn’t wait for Bill to go into the kitchen, so he could speak to Megan alone. ‘Irene’s coming here on Sunday,’ he said excitedly. ‘You need to come round when she’s here Megan, but don’t tell your dad she’s coming.’
Megan’s mind was racing. This was an opportunity not to be missed, but she couldn’t just arrive and start talking about her mum. Then she had an idea.
‘I’ve got a photo of Bill and my mum taken outside my house,’ said Megan. ‘I could bring that round to start the conversation.’
‘Great idea,’ answered Ryan. ‘She’s coming early on Sunday afternoon.’
There was no more time to talk as Bill came back in the room and so it wasn’t long before Megan made her excuses and left.
She was grateful that her dad was watching TV when she got home, because she needed to look for the photo. She was hoping it was among the many photos of her mother that she kept in her memory box. Some time ago, her dad had gathered up all the old photo albums and the photos of her mum in frames and put them away in the loft. So, if the photo wasn’t in her box, she knew she would not be able to get it.
After closing her bedroom door, she reached for the memory box on the bedside table. It was decorated with pictures of colourful flowers and had the words ‘Megan’s Memory Box’ written on the lid in her old childish handwriting. The photos were wrapped up in a paper bag tied up with a white ribbon. She carefully undid the ribbon and took the precious photos out of the bag one by one, laying each one on the bed as she did so. She hadn’t looked at them for some time. She was always worried that her dad might come into her room when she was looking at them and get upset. If he came in now, she would just have to face the consequences.
It wasn’t long before she found the photo she was looking for. Bill and her mum were standing outside her house, next to a blue Mini car with a white stripe down the bonnet. Her mother was dressed in a brightly coloured printed top with a string of dark green beads round her neck that set off her long red curly hair. Megan thought about all the days she had spent without her mother and before she knew it, a large tear dropped onto the photo. She wiped it off impatiently with her finger. There was no time for such sorrow. She had to focus on how to get the photo out of the house without her dad noticing. She took a closer look at it. Just in the corner she could make out a child’s hand on the gatepost. She guessed the hand must be hers. She assumed her dad must have taken the photo and that the car was one of the Minis he used to own. She hid the photo inside her homework book and started to make her plan.
The only coat with pockets large enough to hide the photo was the white padded coat that she hated so much. It was now hanging back on the hook in the hallway. Her dad often stood by the door and watched her whenever she went out, so she would need to put the photo in the pocket some time before she left. She planned to do it when he was having a shower the next morning.
For once, everything went according to plan and on Sunday afternoon Megan set off to Ryan’s house wearing her padded coat with the photo safely hidden in one of the pockets. Thankfully, her dad was so pleased she was wearing her coat again, that he didn’t question why she needed to wear it just to go next door. When Megan arrived, Irene was already there. She could see by Irene’s face that she was surprised. Bill was on edge and quickly darted into the kitchen to get the cakes he had bought specially for Irene’s visit.
“How’s Zoe?’ asked Ryan, in an effort to break the ice.
Irene seemed relieved to be talking about the cat. ‘She’s a lot better thank you. She even seems to be putting on weight,’ she added. ‘Probably too much weight.’
‘A bit like me,’ said Bill, as he appeared with the plate of cakes. ‘I didn’t know you still had Mike’s cats Irene. I thought you were going to give them away.’
‘Yes, well… he wanted to breed them,’ said Irene nervously, ‘so I decided to keep them. They’re no trouble really.’
‘I never actually saw them,’ said Bill as he offered round the cakes. ‘Mike was very secretive about them. He said they were from Scotland and worth a lot of money.’
Bill paused as he patted Skippy who had come in looking for tasty snacks. ‘I prefer dogs myself.’
As Irene fidgeted in her chair, Megan and Ryan began to realise that everyone, including Bill, thought Irene’s cats were just ordinary cats. Luckily for Irene, Bill didn’t ask any more questions about the cats and the conversation moved on to talking about the burglaries. Ryan gave Megan a knowing look as she sat nervously, twisting the ends of her red pony tail around her fingers. He wondered if she was ever going to bring out the photo. But Megan was biding her time. She was waiting for the right moment. So, when Bill started to talk about the old days and the cars he used to repair for Irene’s late husband, she knew that the right moment had come. ‘Oh, I’ve got something to show you,’ she said, trying to appear casual. ‘It’s in my coat pocket.’
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