Stand by Me

by S. D. Robertson

  ‘That’s nice.’

  Elliot frowned. ‘Not for me. She’ll be busy most Saturdays if she’s selected, because that’s when they play their games against other schools. I don’t get why she’d want to give up so much of her free time.’

  ‘Oh, Elliot,’ Wendy replied. ‘You should be happy for her if she makes the team. I know you’re not particularly keen on sport, but life would be boring if we all liked and disliked the same things. What about tomorrow? I’m sure she doesn’t have a hockey practice yet.’

  ‘Not yet, no. We’re going to meet up in the morning.’

  ‘There you go. So that’s something to look forward to.’

  Elliot rolled his eyes. ‘How long until tea’s ready?’

  ‘About forty-five minutes. Would you like grated or sliced cheese on your burger?’

  ‘Grated, please.’

  Burger and chips was Elliot’s favourite meal, which was why Wendy had made it for him today. If he had his way, he’d visit McDonald’s every week. But they could only afford to eat out as a rare treat. Her homemade Wendy Burger, as she liked to call it, always went down well.

  She did feel bad sometimes that she wasn’t able to spoil Elliot more, but her modest nurse’s salary was the only household income, so there was never going to be a lot of money to spare. At least he had clothes to wear, food to eat and a roof over his head. Wendy was particularly proud of the fact that their home was detached, even though it was actually smaller than a lot of terraced properties: the upstairs in particular. It was plenty big enough for the two of them and she did her utmost to fill it with love and laughter.

  Would she have preferred it if Gary was still with them and they were a complete family? Of course. He was a wonderful man, who she loved with all her heart. And the way he was taken from them – killed in a motorbike crash, gone in an instant with no warning – had always felt particularly cruel. A day didn’t go by when she didn’t think of him and wish that he and Elliot had got to spend more time together. Gary had adored his ‘little man’. It was awful to think of everything he’d already missed out on as his son grew up. Today was yet another milestone his dad should have been there for. They kept on coming.

  As for Elliot, he said he still remembered his dad, but she wondered how much of that was what she’d told him rather than actual memories. He’d only been four when he’d died, poor thing. She kept Gary as alive as she could in Elliot’s mind by regularly talking about him, showing photos and recounting stories from their time together. What more could she do? She would have liked to have kept in touch with Gary’s parents. However, they’d made that impossible by cutting off all contact when she’d needed it most, soon after his death, inexplicably blaming her for what had happened. She’d never heard from them since, so apparently they had no interest in getting to know their grandson.

  Wendy had learned long ago that you just had to make the best of things and focus on the positives rather than the negatives, like the fact that she and Elliot had such a close relationship and how incredibly proud she was of him. She was constantly telling her friends and colleagues about his amazing achievements, such as getting into King George’s. He was her everything – the one aspect of her life that was perfect and she wouldn’t change one iota. She couldn’t have wished for a kinder, more loving child.

  Elliot may not have been much of a sportsman, as today’s rugby trials had shown, but he came into his own in the classroom. He’d always been one of the brightest in school: an all-rounder, as the teachers liked to put it, excelling equally at Maths and English and everything in between. It seemed to come easily to him. Wendy wasn’t sure where this came from, since neither she nor Gary had been especially academic during their own school days, but of course she was delighted.

  His Junior Three primary school teacher, Mr Armitage, had contacted Wendy to suggest Elliot ought to apply to somewhere more academically challenging than the local comprehensive. She’d taken some convincing, because of the distances involved and, most importantly, the fees. But after Mr Armitage had presented her with details of the various bursaries and scholarships available, even offering his services as a private tutor free of charge, she’d come round to the idea.

  As kind and supportive as Mr Armitage was, Wendy had always suspected that part of the reason for his offer was down to her being a widow and him a bachelor with aspirations of marriage. He was a socially awkward chap. Although he had made a couple of attempts to ask her out, they’d been so clumsy and unclear that, simply by playing dumb, she’d managed to wiggle out of them without the discomfort of formally rejecting him. But she saw the way he looked at her when he thought she wasn’t watching: the way so many men did when they learned her husband had died. Apparently there was something appealing about a young widow. She suspected that some liked the idea of sweeping in to rescue her, while others assumed she must be desperate and therefore an easy conquest.

  The truth was that in between working, sewing, running the household and looking after Elliot, she didn’t have much time for dating. Plus, she still couldn’t picture being with anyone but her beloved Gary, which was why she continued to wear her wedding ring. She’d also made a secret pact with herself not to date anyone while Elliot was still at primary school, to avoid confusing him when he was too young to understand. That obviously no longer applied. And yet, even with her thirty-second birthday just around the corner, she still didn’t feel in a rush to do anything about it.

  Anyway, whatever Mr Armitage’s reasons were for helping Elliot, following several weeks of evening classes, he’d taken the King George’s entrance exam and won a scholarship. He and Wendy had both been really impressed by the school during an earlier open evening, so he’d accepted.

  ‘I have a little gift for you,’ Wendy said now, as Elliot tucked into his burger. She opened one of the drawers and removed a small, rectangular parcel wrapped in brown paper, which she slid across the kitchen table into his hands.

  ‘Ooh, exciting,’ he said. ‘What is it?’

  Wendy beamed a broad smile in his direction. ‘Well, you won’t find out by staring at it.’

  ‘No, but I mean what’s it for?’

  ‘Finishing your first day at secondary school, of course. I’m terribly proud of you. I know you’ll do really well at King George’s.’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ Elliot said, turning the package around in his hands and even giving it a little shake next to his ear before he finally unwrapped it.

  ‘Fantastic,’ he said, his eyes glowing when he found the new pair of specs she’d bought to replace the ones he’d lost while out playing over the summer. He put them on immediately and beamed at her with such joy that she knew they were worth every hard-earned penny they’d cost her.

  ‘Thanks so much, Mum.’

  ‘You’re welcome. I couldn’t have you in those old ones forever, could I?’

  ‘I promise I’ll take good care of them this time.’

  ‘Yes, please do. No more taking them off while you’re out and about. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘How do they fit?’ she asked. ‘If they’re not right, we can pop to the optician’s tomorrow and get them adjusted.’

  Elliot stood up and walked around the table, giving her a bear hug that left her gasping for breath. ‘No, they’re perfect.’ He grinned. ‘No one will recognise me at school on Monday now. They’ll be like: “Who’s this cool dude in the funky specs?” I’ll have to introduce myself all over again.’

  ‘Go on with you, silly sausage. Go and get changed out of your smart new uniform before you spill your tea down it.’

  CHAPTER 9

  NOW

  Saturday, 21 July 2018

  Chloe was seriously freaked out. The minute she got up to her room, she messaged her best friend, Holly, whose house she’d stayed at the night before.

  C: Are you still awake?

  H: For now. Mum says I have to go to bed soon, seeing as we barely slept last night. It was f
un, though, right?

  C: Definitely! I’ll ask my parents if you can come for a sleepover here soon. What are you up to?

  H: Not much. Chilling, watching some YouTube videos. You?

  C: Something seriously strange happened tonight. I have to tell you about it.

  H: Sounds exciting. Btw, before I forget, you left your hairbrush.

  C: Wondered where that was. Thanks. Will pop round for it sometime.

  H: So what happened?

  C: Mum had this old friend over for tea – a man called Elliot. They were BFFs when they were kids. (They didn’t say so, but I think he might be gay.) Anyway, like twenty years ago, Elliot moved to Australia and they never saw each other again – until now. He turned up yesterday and surprised Mum. He’s staying at The Grange.

  H: What’s he like?

  C: Nice, I guess. He has an odd accent, somewhere in between English and Australian.

  H: What’s so strange?

  C: Coming to that now. I was on my own with him in the kitchen when we were tidying up after tea. The two of us were emptying the dishwasher. I picked a sharp knife out of the cutlery rack and it slipped from my hand. It fell, blade first, straight towards my bare foot. There was no time to move. And this is what freaked me out: right at the last minute, the knife changed direction. Suddenly, without any obvious explanation, it went flying to one side, out of the way.

  H: Eh? So it didn’t hit your foot?

  C: Nowhere near. It ended up on the other side of the room, like some invisible force had swiped it away.

  H: What do you mean? Did it hit a cupboard or something on the way down?

  C: No, definitely not. There was nothing between the knife and my foot other than air. That’s what was weird.

  H: And Elliot?

  C: He was putting away some plates at the time. He wasn’t anywhere near close enough to knock it away. But somehow I still think it was him.

  H: You’re confusing me.

  C: I think he did it without touching it – using his mind or whatever.

  H: Is this a wind-up, Chloe?

  C: Seriously. I looked over at him after it happened and he gave me this kind of embarrassed look, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Then he smiled and said: ‘Close call, kiddo. You need to be careful with knives.’

  H: What did you say?

  C: Nothing. I was too busy trying to wrap my head around it.

  H: Did you tell your parents or Ben?

  C: Of course not. They’d think I was crazy.

  H: And you thought I wouldn’t? Lol. Remember we basically had no sleep last night. It’s probably your mind playing tricks. Sorry, got to go. Mum’s breathing down my neck about having a shower. Chat in the morning?

  C: Sure. Night. X

  H: Night. X

  Chloe placed her mobile on the bedside table. It was 8.32 p.m. Her parents were still busy entertaining downstairs. Better that than biting each other’s heads off, anyway.

  She hoped Elliot wasn’t any more to Mum than an old friend. Chloe was already worried enough about her parents’ marriage, without anything or anyone else to complicate matters. Certainly Dad hadn’t looked as enthusiastic about their visitor as Mum had. And neither of them had been keen to chat about their evening out together last night, which suggested it hadn’t gone well.

  She thought back to Holly’s words about how tiredness might have led her to imagine the kitchen incident. Really? No, that wasn’t possible. She knew what she’d seen.

  So what did that make Elliot? A magician? A superhero? Some kind of supernatural being? A vampire, perhaps?

  They’d studied Gothic literature in English class at school this year, looking at classic novels like Bram Stoker’s Dracula and Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. She’d loved the idea of these books but found the reality hard going. Instead, she’d turned to something more modern: Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight saga. She was hooked, currently enjoying the second book in the series, New Moon, which was next to her mobile on the bedside table.

  Could Elliot really be a vampire? She laughed at herself for considering this option. And then she came back to it, since only a fantastical explanation could come close to explaining what she’d seen. And was it any more ridiculous, any more unbelievable, than the idea of him being a superhero?

  The big argument against the vampire theory was the fact that Elliot had eaten with them earlier. In Twilight, Edward ate a small amount of pizza at one point, Chloe recalled, but it definitely wasn’t a pleasant experience for him. He compared it to a human eating dirt, from what she remembered. Well, there was definitely no sign of that at the table tonight. Elliot had dug into Mum’s lasagne with enthusiasm, commenting on how delicious it was, and even having seconds.

  On the other hand, Elliot appeared younger and in better shape than either of her parents. He was good-looking, for an adult: the right combination of slim and muscular, with a jawline that actually reminded her of Robert Pattinson, who played Edward Cullen in the Twilight movies. (She was saving these for later but had seen plenty of photos.) Such things, together with that supernatural ability, were ticks in the potential vampire box.

  What about the fact he’d used his power, or whatever it was, to stop her from being injured? Traditionally, vampires were considered evil, like Dracula, but Edward and the other Cullens weren’t like that. Still, even they struggled with their instincts in the face of human blood. Maybe that was also why Elliot had stopped the knife, because if it had hit her foot, there would have been loads of blood.

  Plenty to chew over. Chloe considered searching some vampire mythology online: something other than Twilight, since that was just one writer’s take on it. But stifling a yawn, she realised this would have to wait for another time.

  The bedroom door burst open and in walked her elder brother.

  Chloe sighed. ‘It’s polite to knock first.’

  Ben ignored this and asked her what she was doing.

  ‘Nothing. You?’

  ‘Not much.’

  Chloe wondered what Ben wanted. He rarely came into her bedroom unless he needed a favour. Not that she minded. Secretly, she was fond of her big brother, but she’d fallen into the habit of pretending not to be. She found she got more respect from Ben this way than she did in the old days, when she used to follow him around, begging him to play with her.

  There were almost four years between them. She had a June birthday and his was at the end of August. So now she was twelve to his fifteen, but that would only last another few weeks; then he would turn sixteen and the age gap would return to normal.

  They’d never discussed it, but Chloe suspected that Holly, who was far more into boys than she was, had a crush on Ben. She was always batting her eyelashes at him; she would burst into laughter if the slightest hint of a joke left his lips. As annoying as this was, Chloe could just about understand why – not that she’d ever admit it.

  Ben was relatively handsome, compared to other boys around his age, who tended to be gangly and awkward. Broad-shouldered with thick, wavy dark hair, brown eyes, olive skin and a clear complexion, he looked very different to Chloe. She had pale white skin, already showing a tendency for spots, plus light-green eyes and long, straight auburn hair. That was her mum’s natural colour too. She’d been dying it blonde for years but wouldn’t entertain the notion of her daughter doing the same. Totally unfair.

  ‘What do you think of Elliot?’ she asked Ben.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I just wondered. He seems a bit … unusual to me.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She shrugged, not yet ready to trust Ben with what she’d seen. She needed more evidence first – and to re-evaluate the situation when she wasn’t so tired. ‘I’m surprised you’re not down there chatting to him. He’s a big deal in computers and stuff, right? Might be able to get an IT geek like you a job one day.’

  Ben frowned, muttering that a post in Australia would be useless to him. Despite his sporty
physique, the only games he tended to play were on his PC. He spent much of his spare time behind his computer screen, often tinkering with technical things that Chloe didn’t understand. And yet Ben hated being labelled a nerd. He definitely wanted something. Otherwise he wouldn’t have let her get away with what she’d just said.

  He wandered aimlessly around her room, picking and poking at things on her shelves and desk, before finally getting to the point. ‘Any chance you might be able to do me a tiny favour, Chloe?’

  She smiled to herself. ‘Depends what it is.’

  ‘You know how Mum and Dad are going to see Aunt Jenny on Monday and they agreed we could stay at home?’

  Chloe nodded.

  ‘I could do with popping out for a bit, um, alone.’ Ben scratched his head. ‘Would you be okay here by yourself for a couple of hours?’

  ‘Where do you need to go?’

  ‘To meet a friend nearby. No one you know.’

  ‘Ooh, a girlfriend?’

  Ben’s face soured. ‘No. Bloody hell, Chloe.’

  ‘What? You expect me to say yes without any questions?’

  ‘What’s the problem? You’re always telling Mum and Dad that you’re old enough to be left home alone. I thought you’d jump at the chance.’

  ‘What if I need you for something?’

  ‘I’ll have my mobile.’

  ‘I don’t know, Ben. We’ll both be in big trouble if we get found out.’

  ‘I’ll take the heat if that happens. But why would it? If we don’t tell them, how will they find out?’

  ‘Well, I don’t see why you can’t tell me where you’re going and who you’re meeting.’

  Ben sighed. ‘I knew you’d be like this.’ He reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out a ten pound note. Chloe hadn’t expected this, but knowing he was prepared to pay, she pushed for more and got him up to twenty.

  ‘So it’s a deal then?’ he asked before handing over the notes.

  ‘Yes, but if Mum and Dad find out somehow, it’s on you.’

  ‘Fine.’