by Dan Moore
‘Come in,’ he said.
The door opened and Jess walked in, smiling.
‘Do you mind?’
‘Of course not,’ he said, sitting up. ‘I’ve just woken up.’
She closed the door behind her and tiptoed over to the bed. She pulled the duvet back and climbed in beside him, crawling across the mattress, resting her head on his chest.
‘I couldn’t sleep,’ she said. ‘I can’t get that skull, and that grave, out of my head. How could Ursula do that?’
‘I know,’ he said, running his fingers through her hair, stroking the back of her head. ‘She needs help.’
He could feel her shaking.
‘At least the police believed you, about Gerry,’ she said. ‘I hope they lock him up for a long time.’
‘He’s another one who needs help,’ Freddie said.
‘I wonder why Rhona suggested you come here.’
‘I think she genuinely thought the country would do me some good. We’ve argued a lot over the years. She does try, and I can see that I’ve been fighting against it, determined not to accept her as a mother figure.’
But something was playing on Freddie’s mind, something he’d heard Ursula mutter beside the grave:
No wonder dizzy Lizzie lost it!
Dizzy Lizzie?
Dizzy – the Dizzy from the letters he’d found in Noel’s possessions back at the abandoned house – was Elizabeth? Elizabeth had been seeing Noel, thought Freddie, behind Rhona’s back? He’d keep quiet. He had to. Some secrets were better off remaining secret.
But what if it’d been Elizabeth who’d pushed Noel?
Stop it! he told himself, just stop it!
‘What happened to your real mum?’ Jess asked. ‘You don’t mention her.’
‘She died, in childbirth,’ he said. ‘She died so I could live.’
He sighed. Opening up to others had always proved difficult for Freddie. He wondered why he’d opened up to Jess, of all people, when he’d often struggled to express himself when she was around.
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’
‘I put so much pressure on myself sometimes. It’s as if I’m living for both of us.’
‘I understand.’
‘They say we show our true character, when we’re drunk,’ said Freddie. ‘Why did you go back to Lucas?’
‘I don’t know,’ Jess replied. ‘We’ve only just broken up and, I’m not going to lie, I did really like him. Last night I was confused, and very drunk. But it would be nice if we could forget out about it all, and start over. How do you fancy taking me out at the weekend?’
‘Sounds good to me,’ said Freddie. ‘Ursula’s open day?’
‘I was thinking more along the lines of a picnic, or a walk on the beach. But if we must…’
‘I’ll think of something.’
His mobile started vibrating on the bedside table. Does the bloody thing ever stop going off? He was too relaxed to care about who’d texted him. He felt so warm, so content.
‘You’d better see who that is,’ Jess whispered, patting his arm.
He sighed, reaching across for the mobile.
‘Surprise, surprise,’ he said, glancing at the sender. He opened the message. It was from Tiffany. It read:
Freddie. I didn’t want to tell you like this, but seeing as though you won’t answer my calls… I think I’m pregnant.
Author Profile
Dan is a young writer from Lincolnshire who, having decided he should do something with his vivid imagination, began writing whilst studying at the University of Lincoln, aged nineteen. His debut young adult novel, Haunted Fields, is the story of a seventeen-year-old boy forced from his comfort zone into a community haunted by the secrets of its past. The novel is an examination of its characters’ fears: of teenage angst, family secrets, hysteria. It also explores what happens when someone is confronted with the terrifying reality of seeing something, which they know can’t possibly be real, with their own eyes. Dan would love to pursue a career in writing, and is in the process of planning his next project.
Publisher Information
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