When he’d been about seven they’d been holidaying in a remote North Wales farmhouse. Steve had seen a weather report the day before forecasting rain, and told his dad, with some pride, that it would be a bad idea for them to go walking after lunch. Mum had been out shopping, and Dad grew angry when Steve wouldn’t accompany him, insisting they’d get soaked.
Eventually he gave up trying to shout Steve into putting on his wellingtons, and simply picked Steve up and took him to the area at the back of the farmhouse.
“It’s a clear day,” Dad said, “but no, you always know better.”
He practically threw him over a low wire fence that ringed a small empty grazing field and walked off. Steve knew what this meant, because electric fences had fascinated him every time they came away to the countryside, and Mum always pointed them out and warned him to be careful.
“What if the fence is on,” he yelled, panicked, “what if the fence is on?”
“You can work that out,” Dad shouted back. “You know everything, don’t you?”
He hadn’t known that, no, but when Mum came home she found him shivering and crying beneath the very downpour he’d tried warning Dad about. And though she hugged him, she did also find it funny, because the fence hadn’t even been on and even if it had the gate itself wasn’t electric.
He never claimed to know everything, but time and time again he was right. And what the hell was a good opinion if not a right opinion? If they’d listened to him and not moved away from London the first time, everything would have stayed the way it had been. But they didn’t listen. And now, irony of ironies, Dad’s moving them back there.
The river was now within earshot, about half a mile down the unpaved section of Blythe Lane. Steve quickened his pace.
No one bloody listened, no matter how many times you were right.
That was why sometimes you had to show people they were wrong, people like Rupesh, who was happy to come over to his house and watch his films, but couldn’t just get involved with the stuff Steve did for the benefit of the whole group. Always fighting against Steve and what he was trying to do for them all. Maybe it would take something like the humiliation of coming last and being kicked out of the group to make him realise its value. And would it be that bad if Rupesh’s whining wasn’t part of his final month there? That was if the others would even go along with it, which he doubted they would when it came down to brass tacks. He’d try, though. And he did have sway over the farmhouse.
But it wasn’t just Rupesh who had bothered Steve lately. Something strange was going on with Will. Will, who he had always admired for being a bit different, a bit open minded, was now suddenly obsessed by this pot and Mr. Strachan. He’d completely lost interest in the game and had been brainwashed or seduced by the closest thing Steve had to a nemesis. Obi would still have been here if it weren’t for Strachan and his fucking dog. But Will didn’t seem to care about that any more.
Strachan had shown Will’s pot to a friend at some Birmingham museum, and they’d got very excited about it. They reckoned it was significant, that it changed local history. They found two coins inside all the packed mud, too. The local paper wanted an article about Will, and Will had said he’d only do it if his friends could be in it because he’d not have found it without them. That had been a nice touch: their final summer, immortalised in print.
At the bridge over the river, he crossed from the left side of the road to the right, then peered over. The river was low enough to see the gravelly bed in places. It still ran through the three main tunnels, but the two smaller overflow tunnels on either side, each the size of a car tyre, were dry. One was right beneath him. Steve vaulted over the bridge wall and down to the riverbank a few feet below.
He crouched, the sewer stink from inside the opening making him grin and grimace. This will be awful for them. Especially for Rupesh.
This clue would turn Rupesh back for certain.
The overflow tunnel’s shining exit was only four metres away, but the combined light from either end wasn’t enough to illuminate the central part.
“Good luck,” he said, and threw in the first gold envelope. It landed about two metres inside, a perfect distance. They would need to go in. Adeline would give him shit for this one, but he would warn her to wear jeans in advance. Fuck it, maybe he should just tell her all the answers and where the final meeting was, too? No, she wouldn’t like that at all. And if he let her see he was happy bending the rules now, she might guess that he was sabotaging Rupesh.
The clue in the tunnel read:
If the lake is an eye, what is the pupil? Your clue lies here, hope the water’s not too cool.
He jogged back up towards Blythe, then turned right at Raven Way before the mansion. After twenty minutes, sweating and out of breath, he reached the lake. After a quick warm-up (Mum used to warn him about the idiots who died cramping up in cold water like this), he stripped down to his boxer shorts and left two remaining envelopes on the shore. With an envelope in his mouth, he swam on his back out to the overgrown islet in the middle of the lake. Bugs and rubbish floated past him, and the water was freezing. But it was worth it, because no matter how awful this was for him, it would be ten times worse for Rupesh. Once on the islet he found everything was covered in bright white bird shit. Not wanting to tread on it with his bare feet, he left the envelope under a nearby rock and swam back.
He dried himself with the towel he’d brought as the sun began to dip. Having gone to all this trouble, it was a shame he wouldn’t get to watch Adeline strip down to her pants and bra when the time came. While they’d done a lot of kissing, and their hands were unafraid to wander, he hadn’t seen her even close to naked. No matter how intimate they got, they could never quite make it to the next part. He wanted it to happen, and no doubt they weren’t far off, but whenever they came close they always stopped. But then they’d laugh, and after a long silence he’d always change the subject to avoid the awkwardness.
He dressed and walked to the railway bridge where Will had ended his Dedication. The remaining two clues in his hands were the first and last. At the bridge he jumped over the fence and onto the ballast. This was where he first saw Adeline, standing in a Green Day T-shirt. He’d gone and found out as much as he could about Green Day, trying to get beyond his superficial knowledge of the band to impress her. It was obvious he hadn’t needed to do that, looking back. She liked him in that same instant he liked her.
At around the point where he’d found most of Obi’s remains he turned to face the opposite bank. Checking both ways for trains, he sprinted across and up a faint path in the embankment foliage. He followed the path into a wooded area that then gave way to a clearing in which an electricity pylon stood like a giant robot. Long grass and saplings grew around the clearing’s edge. This was where he’d wait for them. The pylon sizzled above him, like Rice Krispies in a bowl of milk. At night it was even louder, maybe from the moisture. They would think he was cruel for coming here, a place only accessible by crossing the train tracks. Oh my God, he would say, I’m such an idiot. Only Jen would truly object, and fuck her opinion after what she’d done to Adeline.
This was where it would all happen. Where Will would meet him having pretended to solve all the clues, where Rupesh’s fate would be settled, and where the idea he had way back last year would climax. It was eerie even now, in the dwindling daylight. Silence peppered with crackles, not far from that place where he’d tied up his faithful, bad-tempered, sickly dog to the track to end both their suffering.
When he got back to Elm Close Strachan’s van was still on his drive. What he’d had to do to Obi was all Strachan’s fault. Steve had been too afraid to tell anyone about Obi’s bite when it happened, too afraid that if he went to the vets they’d put him down. It had been a stupid decision given how much pain he’d been in afterwards, and given what he ended up having to do. But it wasn’t just Obi that made him loathe Strachan. There was Adeline, too. She’d told him all about what she
had witnessed in her lounge, and how her mum pretended like nothing was wrong. He was so angry for her. Wanted to out the whole thing to expose Strachan. That wouldn’t help Adeline, though.
He looks down at his hand, at the fading scar there from his altercation with Strachan after Will’s round. He wouldn’t report him for it, because no, he wanted any revenge he took to be sweeter than that. The police wouldn’t take him seriously anyway. Strachan would wriggle out of it unless he had real proof.
He hadn’t given up on the idea that Strachan was the one out trying to pick up kids in his van either, and that maybe he could catch him out. Another failed attempt, this time in Kenilworth, was in the news just last week. He wasn’t as convinced of his idea as he’d been earlier in the summer, but the night of the supposed attempt Steve knew for a fact Strachan was out. He’d been scouting his Dedication that night, wanted one of his clues to be on Strachan’s property—a final tribute to poor Obi. He only went over there because he’d seen Strachan’s van wasn’t on the drive.
Because Strachan was in, Steve would have to leave the clue right before The Dedication started, much later that evening when the twat was hopefully asleep.
The farmhouse was empty when he got in. He took a pizza from the fridge, the third one that week, and turned on the oven. He searched the immense stack of videos piled behind the television and popped in a film. The pizza and film were both done by 8 p.m. He tried calling Will first. The phone rang out. It didn’t matter too much, their plan was set in stone anyway. So he called Adeline, bringing the others into the conference call one by one.
“Why do I have a bad feeling about you calling this late?” Rupesh said.
“You have bad feelings about everything,” Steve said. Rupesh didn’t sound daunted, though, which unsettled him. Even more so because Will still didn’t pick up the phone when he tried to bring him in. Unlike the others, Will had even been tipped off as to the time Steve would call.
“Okay, well, I’ll just give you the information and keep trying Will. Basically, you can’t leave your individual houses until midnight. But the clue is: Avoid our old enemy’s lights, stay out of his sight, at the end of his garden, a prize awaits at midnight.
“You must be—” Rupesh said.
“We have to go in his garden?” Adeline said.
“I can’t say any more,” Steve said.
“This isn’t fair on Will, what about Will?” Rupesh said.
“Why are you worried?” Jen said. “Concentrate on your own game.”
“I’ll go over now and tell him,” Steve said. “I don’t want him losing by accident.”
“You and your bloody—” Rupesh began, but Steve hung up before he could finish.
Rupesh: every time they spoke he complained and fought. So irritating. He stormed out of the house, towards Blythe Lane. All the lights were off in Will’s house. Steve rang the doorbell and banged the knocker. Nobody inside stirred. Were they out? Will never went out with his family. If such an event was in the diary, Will would have mentioned it when Steve was prepping him for his Dedication. Although now he considers it, Will hadn’t exactly expressed gratitude for Steve’s help. He’d talked more about how upset Rupesh would be if he lost. Maybe this was his way of sabotaging everything. Oh, sorry, Steve, I just forgot my parents had this thing. Acting the dippy prick when he was no such thing.
Steve banged on the front door one last time, then went home. It would probably work out. Will would just show up at his house at one in the morning as planned, and they’d go to the pylon together. Worst-case scenario he might just go straight to the pylon. Nothing to worry about.
Steve sat shivering on the concreted area at the foot of the pylon. It was 2.30 a.m. A half-moon floated in the clear sky, illuminating the clearing. Beyond that light everything was shadow. Now and then a snap or shush from the overgrowth would make his skin creep.
It was taking too long. Will should have been here now. He hadn’t planned to be alone this long: practically two hours. It was all falling apart.
Every now and again the sound of a passing cargo train filled the night. It should have brought him comfort, the way it used to before Obi. Not now, not after that afternoon.
A scream rose from the direction of the tracks. He was sure his heart would burst with fright. The sound was not mechanical or electric, it was a woman, in pain perhaps, coming towards him. He heard the approach of footsteps and grass giving way beneath feet.
Steve stood and watched the edge of the clearing. The screams turned into squeaky, bubbling laughs. A tightness between his shoulders relented with recognition. Then Adeline and Jen both appeared at the same time from two different points at the edge of the woodland. They spotted one another, then both raced to reach him.
It was going to work out anyway. Rupesh couldn’t win. At best he could only finish third now. Third. Not good enough. Not—
Someone shoved him from behind. He cried out, terrified, turning around just before Adeline and Jen crashed into the back of him.
Rupesh stood beneath the pylon, hands on his knees, shoulders rapidly rising and falling. He was staring at Steve with triumph, the white teeth of his grin shining in the moonlight.
“Fuck. You,” he said, and raised his middle finger. “Fuck. You.” Then he turned around, and threw up into the grass.
It couldn’t be. How had he got behind him? He would have heard.
Jen said, “You are a fucker, Steve Litt.” He turned and she slapped his arm. Hard. Then she went to Rupesh and rubbed his back. “You found the short cut okay?” she said to Rupesh, sounding smug. “You should have seen his face.”
Jen’s attack deflected his rage.
“Why am I a fucker?” he said.
“No Will yet, then?” Adeline said. Her hair looked wet below the shoulders and she had her arms pulled tight across her chest.
“No,” Steve said.
“Well, we didn’t see him,” Jen said.
“What do you mean, we? You came together?” Steve said. Jen’s eye-roll riled him further.
“Well, given it was quite dark and scary,” Adeline said, “we might have helped each other out a little bit.”
“But—” Steve went to protest.
“We knew it was important, though,” Adeline said, casting glances at Jen and Rupesh. She was handling him, telling them to keep out. Usually he didn’t mind being handled by her. It was nice, always affectionate. Not now. Now wasn’t the time.
“But…”
“All the envelopes were sealed,” Jen said. “We knew Will wasn’t ahead of us each time, and we waited for him at the start and he didn’t show up. So there wasn’t any point in doing it separately.”
“It was fair at the end,” Adeline said. “We had a foot race from the lake to the final clue. Rupesh won this fair and square. It was more fun that way.”
Steve sighed, disappointed now. “The point… The point is to show your dedication. To the cause. To the gang. You can’t just change the rules when you feel like it.” His voice sounded whiny, but it was out of his control now.
“Fuck off,” Rupesh said. His voice was serious, tinged with acid. “You designed those clues to fuck me.”
“No I didn’t,” Steve said. “I didn’t think about you at all.”
“A bloody lake? Midnight? Train tracks?” Rupesh said.
“Well, you did it, didn’t you?” Steve said.
Rupesh glances to the other two, then nodded.
“I honestly forgot,” Steve said. “You’ve been doing so well recently. Sorry. Well done. I think you deserve to have won the whole bloody thing for that.”
He held out his hand and Rupesh gripped it with his own. It was shaking.
He meant it. He would rather Rupesh was in the group now than Will, the fucking useless knobhead.
“Let’s go,” he said, and started walking in the direction of the footbridge. “Rupesh, will you be okay going back this way?”
“I don’t have a choice, do
I?”
“We have to wait a bit longer for Will,” Jen said.
“I’m freezing, Jen,” Adeline said.
Steve swivelled to face them all. “Will?” he said to them. “He’s dead to us now. Someone can tell him we’ll do the draw at mine tomorrow.” He resumed crossing the clearing, hearing their reluctant footsteps behind him.
The morning before they came over he brooded while watching films on his own. It didn’t matter really, what Will had done. None of it, in the scheme of things. Whenever things got like this you needed to zoom out and look at things from above. He would be gone from this place soon. Perhaps it was never meant to be with this lot—strangers thrown together by the decisions of their parents. Whoever heard of anyone important still being friends with the kids they grew up with? All those movies about gangs of kids having big adventures never showed you the sequel, about them all being adults together. Because it didn’t happen.
In London he could start over again and pick a new set of friends from the new school. And while he would miss Adeline—there was more to their relationship than chance alone—it would be a relief to be out of her orbit. While she was close by it was hard to put her out of his mind.
At some point he needed to tell her. But for now it was best that none of them knew.
She was the first one to arrive at the farmhouse, at which point he already has the three forfeits written out on scraps of paper and laid out on the coffee table for everyone to inspect.
BAN
FILMS
NOTHING
He’d brought down three more of the gold envelopes and when the others turned up he explained he would put the clues inside. Will avoided looking at him, even at the point he held out the three envelopes to him.
“I thought the winner was meant to choose,” Will says.
“You do it. I don’t want anyone accusing me of cheating.”
He picked the middle envelope, opened it up, and smiled.
“It’s ‘Films,’ isn’t it?” Rupesh said.
The Killer You Know Page 29