The sun rose, the mists thinned, and the world lost its thoughtful look. Mags was taking her time.
Then he remembered.
He went back into the chamber. What had she been saying? Somewhere here, somewhere here.
The stones were set lengthways, each stacked on top of the other. They were packed together, holding in the earth behind. None of them seemed to want to move.
He was sliding his hand over them, along their tips, which poked out from the wall. Somewhere here, somewhere here.
He was really, really hungry now. Good one, Robbie, run away from home with no money, no clothes, no nothing. You’re just a loser like Dad.
One of them turned.
He yelped in surprise.
He stared at the stone as if it had stung him. It had turned as easily as if it was on a hinge. And in a way, it kind of was on a hinge, because the stone rose to a peak, against the one on top of it, so he couldn’t pull it out, but he could turn it. He could only move it a bit, not enough to make much of a difference, not even so it showed, unless you knew you were looking for something. It must have been like that since the wall was made.
Robbie looked closer, squinting behind the stone. There was a cavity there; he could just about get his hand in. He winced at the thought of feeling around in there. Who knew what was inside? Making his hand little and pushing hard he could squeeze it through the opening, scraping off skin. He felt something hard. Difficult to get out. If he took hold of it, his hand would widen into a fist, and he wouldn’t be able to extract it. In the end he managed to tuck it under his fingertips and slide it out. He turned the stone back and looked at what he had found.
A memory stick.
He heard footsteps. A shadow fell on the stone doorway.
Was she back?
She couldn’t be; she was only a dream.
But the stone had turned. So she was more than a dream.
He felt his stomach knotting.
What happened to you, cat of the wood, to make you do what you did? What’s your story? I know you, don’t I? I know what you’re doing too. You and Mags.
‘Hello?’
‘Mags, I thought you were—’
‘The police, I reckon,’ she said, stepping through the door with a package in her right hand. ‘The whole countryside’s out looking for you, babe.’
‘Yeah?’
‘No. Police might have been called, but I haven’t seen them. Can’t say as I’ve been looking, though.’ She started unwrapping the package. The smell nearly made him faint, he was so ravenous. It was a bacon roll. No, it was two of them. And the bacon was still warm.
Mags watched him scoff the butties, her face a mixture of fascination and revulsion. When the last crumb had disappeared, she spoke.
‘So what’s this all about, then?’
‘I found a letter.’
‘So?’
‘It’s from Mum.’
‘Oh.’
Because he was thinking about the letter, he wasn’t thinking about what he was doing, which was playing with the memory stick, turning it nervously over and over in his hand.
‘What’s that?’ asked Mags.
‘Something I found.’
‘What, here?’
‘Yeah.’
‘All right.’ She was going to say something, then she changed her mind. She was looking at it suspiciously.
‘It’s a memory stick,’ she said.
‘Yeah, I know.’
‘Bit of a weird place to find it.’
‘Yeah.’
‘Was it, like, you know, lying around on the floor somewhere?’
‘No.’
‘Where, then?’
‘What is this? I found it, that’s all.’
‘I’m just asking.’ She sounded edgy, and Robbie wondered what was bothering her. For some reason, he didn’t want to tell her the truth. She had been so guarded with him, and this was his.
‘It was in my pocket.’
‘You said you found it here.’
‘Maybe someone dropped it.’
‘You said it was in your pocket.’
‘I think I might’ve picked it up without thinking about it and put it in my pocket, then sort of found it without realizing it was me who put it there in the first place.’
‘You’re winding me up, Robbie.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Well, stop it. Come on, I need to know.’
They stood, looking at each other, facing off. Mags put on her most winning smile. He shook his head deliberately.
‘Don’t try that, Mags. It’s not going to work.’ The smile disappeared.
‘You’re so aggravating,’ she said. Then a sly look came into her eye. ‘Okay, Robbie.’ She stepped over to the wall and put out her hand. She rested it on a stone, then moved it from one to another, watching him. She smiled again, this time because she could see she was winning. It must have been written all over his face.
‘Was it in here?’
She turned the stone, as if it was nothing, then swiftly bent down to peep into the empty cavity.
She knew.
He wasn’t giving in.
‘Yeah, I noticed that. Everyone must know about it. It’s easy to find.’
‘It’s not easy, Robbie. You’d be surprised. Unless you know what you’re looking for. These walls are thousands of years old.’ She folded her arms. ‘I’m telling you, Robbie. You have to know what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. No one turns this stone by accident.’
‘Seemed easy to me.’
Her face lit up.
‘So I’m right.’
At the same time she grabbed for the memory stick, but he was too quick.
‘Hey, it’s not yours.’
‘You’re right, it’s not mine. Okay. But how did you know?’
‘I’ll tell you another time.’
The sly look came back.
‘Can we share it?’
‘Mags, you sound like you’re six.’
She shrugged.
‘So you know about this?’
She nodded.
‘One of your hiding places, Mags?’
‘Yeah. Someone else knew about it too.’
‘Maybe it’s theirs.’
‘Maybe.’
‘Could they have put it there?’
‘That would be kind of hard.’
‘Why?’
‘She’s dead.’
She was wandering towards the door, looking around the chamber, kicking the walls with her boots.
‘Fran? You mean Fran? You said you used to come here with her.’ Fran wanted it found, he thought.
Mags didn’t reply. She was furious with herself. But she hadn’t been in here since her friend died, he remembered. Apart from with him.
And maybe it wasn’t there then.
‘Robbie.’
‘Yeah?’
‘I’ve got to see what’s on that memory stick.’
‘Beg me.’
‘What?’
‘I mean it. Go on, beg me. You’re always telling me what I can do and what I can’t do. Now I’ve got something you want, and I’m not going to give it to you just ’cos you say so.’
‘You creep.’
‘And don’t try anything on. I’m faster than you.’
‘I’m between you and the door.’
‘Stronger too.’
She started walking towards him.
‘Come on, then.’
‘You’re crazy.’
‘Know what? I think you’re right. Either I’m crazy, or everyone else is. I see things. I keep seeing this girl. I think she’s your friend. Fran. One time she’s hanging, another she’s singing. In the wood, in my dreams, outside here. I see the hare too, sometimes, in the distance, once in a dream. And I know it’s all connected, and you won’t tell me how, but I’m beginning to guess. What kind of a friend is that?’
‘The kind who brings you bacon rolls when you’ve run away from home. The k
ind who maybe doesn’t want to tell you things ’cos she doesn’t want you involved, doesn’t want you hurt.’
‘Too late for that.’ He waved the memory stick at her. ‘Tell me something I don’t know. Tell me about the white hare.’
‘The hare’s gone.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘What I said. I was keeping her. I caught her, and I was keeping her. I thought I could. No one’s caught the white hare before, or kept her, but I did, and I kept her a while. I told you I was being bad. I was torn, Robbie. Keeping her, maybe I was trying to be good. Why would I do that? After all that happened. Anyway, it’s too late now. She’s gone.’
‘She ran away from me in my dream.’
‘Where was she running?’
‘The Strickland farm.’
‘That’s where she’ll be going. I couldn’t stop her. I did try, not as hard as I should have, I know. She has a name now, her own name.’
‘Fleet.’
She nodded, looked tired, ran her hand through her hair.
‘Seems like you know quite a bit already.’
There were voices outside. Men’s. The first of the morning walkers.
‘The memory stick, Robbie. Please.’
The voices had put her off her guard, though. It was easy. A rush, a push, a jump. He was out and running.
And no one was faster than him.
16
IT WAS a long way to Alice’s, but he made it in the end.
He didn’t want her parents to see him, so he waited up the road for her to come home from school, his hood over his head just in case. He had texted her to tell her where he was. His phone had been full of texts from everybody, he had deleted them all without bothering to read them. The battery was going, anyway.
He looked around him. Alice lived on an estate on the outskirts of Sherborne. Rows of new houses marched together like soldiers on parade. Sometimes a bus stopped at the end of the road and people got out and mingled, then disappeared home, leaving everything neat and regimental again.
Suddenly there was Alice coming towards him in her school uniform, eyes singing with excitement.
‘You’re in so much trouble,’ she exclaimed. She gave him a big kiss. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Coming to see you.’
‘You’re out of your mind.’
‘Yeah, you’re not the only one thinks that.’
‘You can’t come over to mine. My mum and dad will call the police. Or your dad.’
‘Not sure which is worse.’
‘Come on, what’re you doing here?’
‘Running away.’
‘Really? And where are you going?’
She’d got a point.
‘Need to find somewhere to hole up for a while.’
‘“To hole up”? Robbie, your dad’s in a total state. Your sisters are too. Jess called me. Oh, and the police came and pulled me out of school.’
‘What for?’
‘To see if I knew anything, ’cos Sheila told them we were friends.’
‘She’s all heart.’
‘So what are you going to do?’
‘Stay with you. Haven’t you got a shed or something?’
She looked round conspiratorially. ‘There’s the garage. Dad’s car’s being serviced and there’s some part they haven’t got they’ve sent away for so he’s not getting it back for at least a week.’
She took him to a row of garages painted a dull blood colour. Some of them had cars outside on the tarmac, which sloped down to the road.
‘Wait here,’ she said. He watched the strings of red and blue beads bobbing in her hair as she ran, then he sat down on the warm ground. He was almost asleep by the time she was back.
‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘Mum wouldn’t stop talking, and it was hard to get the key without giving something away.’ She twisted it in the lock, wrestled with the handle and pulled. Inside, the garage smelled of wet concrete. It was almost bare, except for some cupboards and some used paint tins stacked up on top of each other.
‘Ta da!’ sang Alice, pirouetting. A mattress was propped on its side, almost invisible against the dirty whitewash of the back wall. ‘But, Robbie, am I going to get into trouble over you? Won’t I be aiding and abetting or something? Isn’t that what they call it?’
‘I won’t be staying long. And you’d go to the ends of the earth for me, you know you would.’
‘Ends of the earth but not the Youth Court or whatever, that thing you went to.’
‘No, it’s not nice.’ He pulled the mattress flat. It was spotted with black mould. ‘I think maybe just the night.’
‘All right, be fussy. Then where are you going?’
‘Away.’
‘You’ve got no idea, have you?’
‘Yeah, I do.’ Maybe London. Maybe look up his old friends. Would they want him back?
He was rapidly working out the downside of running away. He was so hungry again he could have eaten the mattress, mould and all. And people were walking past, the estate wasn’t totally dead, it just looked it, so hiding wasn’t going to be easy. And night was coming on.
Alice seemed to know what he was thinking.
‘I can give you a few pounds if you want,’ she said. ‘It’s all I’ve got. There’s a chippy at the corner if you’re desperate. I’ll see what I can get you from home.’
‘Can you leave the garage door open?’
‘Nah, people’ll think it’s weird, they might take a look. I’ll have to shut it. It won’t lock from the inside, though, so I’ll leave it unlocked. You can get out if you need to.’
‘And anyone can get in if they want to.’
‘Well, yeah.’
So he sat there in the dark, the light at the edges of the door beginning to fade. It seemed hours before she returned. She’d changed her clothes.
‘I couldn’t get away again,’ she declared, after slamming the door down. She’d brought him a torch and some biscuits.
‘Is that all? I’m going to die.’
‘Mum knows her cupboards and the fridge inside out. She knows where every bean is. She’d notice. So don’t be ungrateful.’
‘I’m not. I’m just about to faint, that’s all.’
‘Here.’ She pulled out a bottle of water.
‘Won’t she miss that, then?’
‘No. Got it out of the bottles bag. Tap water.’ She pulled off her jacket and then the sweater underneath. ‘This is for you. It’s usually at the bottom of my drawer. It’s going to be cold in here.’
They lay on the mattress making shadows on the ceiling with the torch for a while, before Alice had to go.
‘I’m pushing it, anyway. I’m not supposed to be out this late.’
After she’d left Robbie listened to the sounds from outside, trying not to lie on his side because the mattress smelled so bad.
Cars crawled past, then one swept up to the next-door garage, there was lots of banging and crashing and the car door slammed. He could hear some guys playing football in the dark, the ball slithering along the tarmac, the booms as it hit one of the garage doors they were using for a goal. Then some girls went by, talking loudly about some guy they fancied.
Robbie was thinking about that chippy. His stomach was howling for food.
He listened at the garage door to see if there was anything happening outside, then pushed it open a bit so he could slide underneath.
The chippy was a golden glow at the end of the road. There were loads of people in there, and the smell was just too much. It seemed like forever before it was his turn, and suddenly there was a noise in his ear like the crowd at a football match, and he turned to find a policeman standing behind him. His radio had just burst into life. What with the smell and the wait and the shock and the worry Robbie must have swayed a bit, because he found the policeman looking down at him, his eyes narrowing.
‘You all right, son?’
‘Yeah, thanks. Just hungry.’
‘You live ro
und here, do you?’
‘Yeah, over there. Well, just staying the night. Sleepover.’
‘Where are you at school, then?’
Robbie told him.
The man behind the counter was looking impatient.
‘Sorry,’ Robbie said. ‘Large chips, cod, large coke, please.’
‘Aren’t they feeding you at this sleepover, then?’
Robbie laughed as if he’d just heard the world’s funniest joke. ‘Yeah, I’m greedy, that’s all. Guess I’m just a growing boy!’
‘I’ll have the same as him,’ the policeman said.
‘You greedy too, are yeh?’ said the man.
‘Hungry work, nicking people,’ said the policeman, and turned looking for an audience. He got a big cheesy grin from Robbie, but everyone else looked bored.
‘That’s four-fifty.’
Robbie only had four.
‘Oh, can you keep the Coke? What’s that, then?’
‘Three-ninety.’
‘Yeah, got it.’
‘You need some more pocket money, son.’
‘Yeah, I do, you’re so right, thanks.’
Then he was out, stuffing his face as he ran.
*
The salt made him thirsty, but he tried not to finish the water. He leaned back against the wall in the dark, feeling bloated.
So.
There was only one analysis of his situation, bleak, but simple. He’d got nothing and nowhere to go.
Some light was sneaking in at the edges of the door, mostly moonlight. It would last a few hours. The night stretched ahead.
He’d work it all out in the morning.
*
He was awake, at least he thought he was. Something had woken him. He had been drifting in and out of sleep, and he couldn’t see a thing.
There it was again. Metal against metal. Just outside. Good thing I didn’t reach for the torch, he thought.
What’s out there?
There was no singing this time. Something scraped on the tarmac.
If he rolled over a few times he could make it to the door and maybe see though the gap between the door and the floor.
His gut felt tight and his heart was racing.
It had gone quiet.
Maybe it was the police. Maybe Alice had told them. Maybe her mum and dad had got it out of her, asking her where she’d been, they’d noticed the key was missing and then it wasn’t, what were you doing in the garage, Alice?
The White Hare Page 8