The Devil in the Snow

by Sarah Armstrong

  The crying started next door. She hadn’t given Amy a single thought either. She should have told Mariana to watch out for her, to check on her. Kallu would have been waiting for her to help him out at the museum. She wasn’t sure how she felt about Kallu any more, but she knew that would change when she saw him. She had failed everyone she had promised to help.

  She flicked through the papers again. End-of-service contracts with the utilities. Maynard wasn’t going to pay the bills any more. She’d have to set up direct debits and all that stuff.

  There were three envelopes addressed to her which he hadn’t opened. She put the bank statement to one side and ripped open the next, a card from Kallu with some weird stone pagan symbol. That was one less thing to worry about then. He must be all right, wherever he was. The second wasn’t a card but a photo. She turned it over. A photo of Cerys, hair suddenly and strikingly blonde, smiling at someone behind the camera. She’d wanted to dye her hair for years. She looked happier than Shona ever remembered. She was safe, happy and someone wanted her to know it. The envelope had been printed, the stamp had no postmark.

  Shona decided to think about that later. She needed to try to make amends first.

  She knocked at the familiar door and Rob opened it, his face stiffening as he recognised her. His worn, towelling dressing gown was loosely gathered to one side in his left hand.

  ‘Can I come in?’

  He mumbled, as if he’d just woken up. ‘I’ve lost my contract with that company, thanks to you.’

  ‘Can I come in and explain?’

  ‘You know I relied on that, I was good at it.’

  Shona stopped herself saying that she was better. ‘You’ve got the work at the school.’

  ‘That’s cover, there’s no certainty of work.’

  ‘There are plenty of other companies who want to rip off students.’

  ‘Oh, you developed a conscience.’ He nodded. ‘So you can’t be here wanting more work like that then. Can you?’

  Shona tried to push past him. ‘Just let me in for a minute, please.’ Before he pushed her out again she saw a school tie hanging on his banister, Cerys’ school. ‘Screwing mothers is one thing, but schoolgirls?’

  He gathered his dressing gown together again, smiled at her, all teeth, and tried to slam the door. It hit the side of her foot.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m sure it’s all a mistake. I didn’t mean to let you down.’

  ‘Sign up yourself. You know how it works. I can’t rely on you.’

  Shona walked away. She didn’t want to sign up herself. She didn’t want her name on any of the paperwork. It was shitty work and she couldn’t justify it to herself. It had only ever been fun, and then a case of just one more. Now she had bills and no money coming in from Maynard to cover them. She would have to open the bank statement at some point. Not yet.

  Shona lay down on her side of the bed. She could see the book Maynard had left on the bedside table, his place still marked. He had slept in her bed, her and Jude’s bed. The sheets smelled of him. She picked up the book, a history of Renaissance art, and flicked through the illustrations. Same, same, same. He would have to come back for that, or she could hide it, pretend he’d lost it somewhere else. His marker fell out and she unfolded the sheet of paper: ‘gross incompetence’. She sat up and read it through properly. Maynard had been sacked, not made redundant. She smiled and then laughed quietly.

  She opened all three of the drawers on the side that used to be his. Some change, earplugs, she emptied everything into the bin. There was nothing else incriminating. It would all be in the locked front room.

  She didn’t care about the money. He could have paid this house off four times over, so he said, and he could keep it as far as she was concerned. All she wanted was to be here and, if she couldn’t have all her children, to at least be here without him.

  A pain grew from the centre of her chest and spread up to the base of her neck. It felt that if she didn’t cry her throat would slit itself from the inside out. She found herself gasping for air, not letting the sound escape.

  She went back to Cerys’ room. The more she looked the more she saw that had been left. She began to push the large wardrobe back against the wall, first checking behind it to see whether something had been hidden there. There were fingerprints in the dust, but nothing else. Had Maynard been looking, or had it been someone else? He said he’d been away but the letter, she realised, meant that was a lie. If he was in Bulgaria and Berlin, it wasn’t for work. Not paid work.

  The clothes back in the drawers, she checked under the mattress and then put it back on the bed. She stripped off the sheet and duvet cover and then hesitated. Cerys’ smell. She wasn’t ready to wash it out, just like she’d kept Meghan’s things in boxes at her mother’s house.

  Her mother. It was a long shot, but worth a try.

  She went back downstairs, found the house phone and took it back to Cerys’ room.

  ‘Shona? How lovely to hear from you.’

  ‘Hi, Mum.’

  ‘Are you going to come over?’

  ‘Soon. Listen, Mum, Cerys is missing.’

  ‘When did that happen?’

  ‘A couple of weeks ago.’

  ‘A couple of weeks? Shona—’

  ‘So, she’s not with you? You haven’t seen her?’

  ‘A couple of weeks.’ Her mother was breathing heavily. ‘No, no, I haven’t seen her. You didn’t think to tell me?’ Her voice was cracking.

  ‘I’m sorry, it’s been really difficult. I have to go. Jude’s going to be back in a minute.’

  ‘OK. Thank you for phoning, Shona.’

  Shona grimaced and rang off. She took another look around. Most of the clothes were packed away and she was no nearer guessing what might have happened. She heard a female voice and turned, but it was next door. Amy.

  Amy had been screaming at someone for twenty minutes when Thea came back with Jude.

  ‘Wait out there, Jude,’ said Shona. ‘We’re going into town.’

  Jude grinned and looked to Callum to see if he was jealous.

  ‘What’s going on next door?’ whispered Thea.

  ‘She has a drinking problem. I don’t know what’s happening, but she sometimes brings people back and then there’s trouble.’ Shona noticed Jude listening. ‘Come on, nosey.’

  ‘Should we call someone?’

  ‘I don’t think that would help.’

  They walked to the end of the road together before separating.

  ‘Shall we go to the library?’ said Shona, regretting not thinking this before they left. She still had a pile of books that she was probably collecting fines on.

  ‘And the toy shop?’

  ‘Maybe the toy shop, but definitely the library.’

  The walk into town was, other than when they got back, the first time she’d been alone with Jude since Cerys left. Jude held her hand and then, remembering his age, let go to scuff the leaves which rested against walls. The streets were quiet as they walked past the old cinema. Someone had told her it was full of dead pigeons. She remembered a cinema in Sidmouth she’d taken Cerys to where they could hear seagulls all through the film. The house they’d rented was down the road and the lights from the street and the garage across the road made sure the seagulls were awake all night. So much fighting over the territory of a cinema. The roof must have been disgusting and she wondered if the wind ever dropped enough for everyone to smell it.

  That was before Jude. He had rarely been to the cinema in town as it was so much easier to buy films on the TV and make their own popcorn. She should take him. Half-term wasn’t even halfway through.

  They cut past buses and into the small lanes which ran up to the library. As Jude looked at the books Shona caught up on the newspapers. She always used to know exactly what was happening in the world, and where. She’d stopped buying papers a while ago, just catching up on the laptop or her mobile. She’d forgotten how nice it was to flick the pages backwards and
forwards, to zoom in by moving her head rather than swiping her finger.

  There was a lot on Occupy. St Paul’s had been turned into a protest camp, people were resigning and civilisation was being remade. She felt the pull of jealousy. She wanted to be there too. She had become boring, obsessed with physical things, a house, while other people fought for big, abstract hope.

  Jude brought his books over. She smiled. They were all old favourites. One of them he even had at home, but she checked them out with the automatic machines and they left. She tried to renew the books she had out but the machine kept telling her to talk to someone at the desk, and she gave up.

  In the toyshop Jude couldn’t choose. Everything looked so plastic and cheap to Shona that she didn’t try to force a decision. Even the wooden toys looked plastic.

  ‘Let’s go to the museum,’ she said. ‘Sometimes they have things on in the holidays and they have good things to buy.’

  Jude agreed and they walked up towards the castle and turned right, Jude pointing out the unicorn above the door, as usual. There was no lunch sign on the door, but Shona couldn’t remember if this was one of Kallu’s days to work. There was a rota, but it ran, unwieldy, over a fortnight. She’d lost track.

  She pushed the door open and let Jude run in before her. The tape of bird calls was playing. As he lifted the stones and geodes and flashing pens, she looked around for Kallu. She couldn’t see him and walked over to look at the massive cast of megalodon jaws suspended from the ceiling. Past the stuffed Brent geese, the seaweed display, birds that used to walk around the dunes and saltings, to the fossils. She liked the elephant found at East Mersea, maybe exactly where she’d been with Jude and Kallu. She knew the giant elk by the office had come from Clacton, and the stuffed parrot was supposed to look like the local parrot fifty million years ago. The thought made her want to laugh. This place had been so tropical and look at it now.

  From the back of the display Shona could see into the office where the phone and kettle were. She could see Kallu standing, looking down at someone sitting in the chair, very short hair and stocky. Shona thought it must be his boss. Shona couldn’t see Kallu’s expression but he stood like a child being told off, hands clasped in front of him. Maybe he’d finally been caught one too many times. Maybe he was in trouble. Maybe it was even Kallu’s dad. The man stood and rubbed his head with his hand. He picked up a hat, like a trilby, and placed it on his head, then put an overcoat on. He left the office and Kallu watched him go. So did Shona. It was Jimmy.

  Kallu looked concerned. He turned slowly and flinched as he noticed Jude, rooting through the boxes. His eyes searched for Shona and when he spotted her he smiled. She nodded and walked towards them.

  ‘Have you finished, Jude?’

  He held up a geode in one hand and a pen microscope in the other.

  ‘Have you got the change from earlier?’

  ‘Yes,’ He put the things down on the counter and pulled the coins from his pocket. ‘Is it enough?’ he asked Kallu.

  Kallu hadn’t taken his eyes off Shona but now he clicked back into place and rang them through. ‘Fifty-eight pence more, sir.’

  Shona got her purse out and handed it to Jude to find the change. She didn’t trust her fingers.

  ‘Who was that?’ she asked, nodding towards the door.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘He was in your office. You were talking to him.’

  ‘I know. But I still don’t know who it was.’ There was something slipping in his gaze. It wasn’t one of his episodes but, Shona thought, lies. He was lying to her for the first time. Although most of what he’d said could have been evasion or gibberish, he’d never lied.

  ‘Do you want to eat with us later?’ she asked.

  ‘Are you back home?’ There was something funny about the way he said that too, like he knew.

  ‘Just back today.’

  ‘I might, thanks.’

  ‘You have to,’ said Jude. ‘I haven’t seen you for ages.’

  Kallu’s lips moved, but it was an echo of a smile.

  Shona took Jude outside and immediately felt sick.

  ‘Are you OK, Mum?’ asked Jude.

  ‘Yes. Let’s take a bus back.’

  Shona sat on the stairs. It was half past one in the morning. Jude had finally grasped something like sleep but she couldn’t. Kallu had eaten with them, been normal and chatty and yet there was something odd underneath it all. Something had given way. Shona wanted to blame Mariana. Maybe Kallu’s thing, whatever it was, only worked with an open mind. And now he was back in the shed like everything was normal, but she knew it wasn’t. There were noises coming from the shed. She’d heard noises before, but these sounded different.

  She went back into her bedroom and inched the curtains across. The houses which backed onto hers had open curtains too, shadowy figures trying to identify the sound.

  She would have to go out.

  She unlocked the back door and crept out in the dark. She stubbed her toe on the concrete and gasped. He was making such a weird, guttural noise that she was scared. She’d heard things like this from the shed before, but this was louder and made her feel sick with anticipation.

  A foot from the door, she called. ‘Kallu?’

  The noise stopped.

  ‘Kallu, are you all right? Shall I get someone?’

  Silence. She knew she should check and reassure herself. She knew (with Mariana’s voice in her head) that there was nothing to it except attention seeking. How could he be so mad and so functioning simultaneously? It made no sense. She knew that. But she also knew how people did believe the most insane things and incorporate them into their reality. Just look at her mother.

  Shona hesitated once more and looked around the windows. All quiet now, but she half expected a police car to pull up and paint everything blue. But as she never called about Amy as she tore herself apart, no-one had called about the sounds of a boy being murdered in a shed.

  The cold had worked its way through all of Shona’s toes now and she locked herself back in the house. As she rubbed warmth back into her feet she knew she should have done more for everyone. It was Shona who had driven Cerys away and Shona who had talked about Amy without doing anything to make it better. She should have checked on her more often. She should have asked for professional help and stepped aside. And poor Jude. He was the only person she had left, and what was she doing to him? He was having nightmares. She knew he was suffering and didn’t know where he lived any more. And didn’t know who his father was. She had created that too, so he only had her because that’s how she wanted it. How could he make a choice and favour his father, like Cerys had? But to tell him now, or ever?

  And now Jimmy, who must know Kallu. Or was it Jimmy who had placed Kallu here, knowing how gullible Shona was, how much she wanted to save the world? Kallu had even told her she was being watched, and if he was the one watching then he’d be the one to know. They both wanted something from her, as did Maynard, as did everyone.

  So she clung to the bricks and the scraped paint of her house with its memories of skin and bone. That was all she could offer Jude, other than herself. At three o’clock, not knowing if her eyes hurt more from crying or exhaustion, she lay down, wide-eyed, beside Jude.

  9

  November

  The phone rang and Shona glanced at it ready to cancel the call in case it was Marianna. She kept asking about Kallu and Shona didn’t know what to say, and she definitely didn’t want to be lectured again on her own stupidity.

  It wasn’t Marianna. It was Sean.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hello, Shona.’ Her brother spoke slowly, as if he was humouring her.

  ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Yes. Of course.’ He paused. She could imagine him fiddling with a pencil, trying to think of words. ‘Mum phoned.’

  ‘She told you about Cerys?’

  ‘Yes. I thought I’d ring.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  Shona he
ard a noise and looked behind her. Kallu was coming in, closing the door behind him.

  ‘I didn’t speak to her. She left a message.’

  ‘Right.’ Shona sat at the kitchen table next to Kallu and rested her forehead on her free hand. ‘We still don’t know where Cerys is.’ The face on the leaflets on the table smiled up at her.

  ‘No. It must be hard.’

  Shona closed her eyes and thought about the accent he was developing, or putting on. Every part of his skinny childhood self was being stripped off. He sounded breathy.

  He finally spoke again. ‘I thought I’d ask if there was anything I could do.’

  Shona smiled. ‘No. Thanks, though.’

  ‘You don’t want me to come down?’

  ‘No, we just have to wait. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.’

  ‘All right then.’

  Shona could hear something being tapped. ‘Thanks for ringing, Sean.’

  ‘That’s all right. Bye, Shona.’

  He clicked off and she put the phone down. Shona had the feeling Sean’s wife had pushed him to call, to offer to come. Maybe she’d wanted a little holiday from his solid, sensible self. Maybe she wanted a little time on her own, their sons having left home, to go to the bingo.

  Shona rubbed her eyes with her fingertips and tried to ignore the lump in her throat.

  ‘Isn’t Sean your brother?’ said Kallu.

  Shona swallowed hard. ‘Yes. Mum rang him. I don’t know when they last spoke. That could be something good to come out of it, I suppose, if they are back in contact.’

  ‘Everything is for a reason, Shona.’

  Shona glared at him. ‘No, it isn’t. The world is full of pointless misery all made for no reason at all. Just because people find a way through it does not make it for a reason.’

  Kallu nodded and opened his mouth.

  ‘Don’t!’ she shouted. ‘Don’t say pebbles or wind or something like that.’

  ‘I was going to ask if you wanted to do the leaflets.’