“Nothing,” I mumbled. “It doesn’t matter. Where’s Mum?”
“She’s gone to the office to sort out some paperwork. She’ll be back later this afternoon. Look, what’s going on, Lizzie?”
“Nothing, really.”
I ran back upstairs and threw myself on my bed. How was I going to get out of the house now? How was I going to convince Dad to let me go to Dilan’s for lunch? He was so strict about me seeing boys. Even if he said yes, he’d probably insist on coming with me or checking with Dilan’s parents to make sure they were going to be in the house with us. Why had he picked this one Wednesday to miss his meeting? Was it just a terrible coincidence? Or had he found out, somehow, that I’d arranged to meet up with Bee?
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
I couldn’t get the awful thought that Dad might be guilty out of my mind. He was missing, hiding away somewhere, I was sure of it. Not only that, but there was something wrong with his mobile. Every time I called him, it said “Number not in use” so I couldn’t text him or leave him a message or anything.
I went over and over everything he’d said in the days leading up to the Friday he disappeared, to see if he’d mentioned anything or dropped any clues. It was easy enough to remember that we ate breakfast together or watched the same TV programme, but I’d been so focused on Melissa Knight and the fact that it was almost the summer holidays that I hadn’t really paid much attention to what he’d actually said.
I tried to imagine my dad as a murderer, but it was impossible to picture. My dad was the sort of person who hated arguments. He always went out of his way to try and keep the peace. If Mum was in a mood or wound up about something, he’d make her a cup of tea or rub her shoulders to calm her down. The only person he ever argued with was Aidan and even then it was Aidan who lost his temper, not Dad.
I’ve always been much closer to my dad than I have to Mum. When I was three, he gave up his job so he could stay at home to look after me. He’d take me to nursery and then, when I was five, to school. Pick me up and drop me off at all my play dates and after-school activities. We had so much fun together, it didn’t seem to matter that Mum was always working or that Aidan was so moody and secretive.
Everything was fine until I started Glendale High. I can remember the day I found out I’d been offered a place. Dad said it was easily the proudest moment of his life. He picked me up from school, waving the letter about in the air as I came out of the gates, practically jumping up and down. We went straight to our favourite cafe and he ordered me the biggest milkshake with whipped cream and sprinkles on top.
I was happy enough at first; I loved the smart uniform and most of the teachers were okay. I didn’t even mind the fact that we got so much homework. But when the bullying started, I didn’t want Dad to know. I didn’t want him to know how difficult I was finding it to make friends, how much I began to dread going in every morning. We never argued or fell out or anything – I just tried to avoid him so he wouldn’t ask me too many difficult questions.
He was really upset, I could tell, and I hated the way we were drifting apart from each other, but it all became mixed up in my head until I’d convinced myself he’d be even more upset if he knew how unhappy I was. By the time he saw the tickets to Spain in the kitchen and disappeared, we were barely speaking. It was awful, but in the space of a year we’d gone from being really close to being more like strangers.
I hardly closed my eyes all night after getting that note from Lizzie. Dad had only been missing for three weeks but it was beginning to feel as if I’d never see him again. The next morning I stayed in bed until Mum left for work. It took a massive effort to get up, I was so tired, but as soon as I heard the front door close behind her I crept up to Dad’s study, a tiny room at the top of the house. Nan was still asleep so I figured I had at least half an hour to search for clues. I had to find something to prove Dad was innocent.
I’d always loved Dad’s study. There are maps and charts covering every centimetre of the walls and he’s got these hand-painted models of the planets hanging from the ceiling. He was an astronomer before he gave up his job to look after me, and in the last year or so he’d been busy working on this new research project about the moon, and how it’s slowly moving away from Earth.
He tried to talk to me about it once at dinner, to explain how the moon was moving away from Earth at the rate of 3.78 centimetres a year, about the same speed as our fingernails grow. It stuck in my mind because I’d started to bite my nails soon after starting at Glendale and I remember glancing down at my hands and wondering if my poor, ragged nails would ever grow again.
It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the gloom. I was convinced any information would be hidden away in a drawer or on the bookshelves at the back of the room. Next to his desk there was a small metal filing cabinet with three deep drawers. I spent ages sifting through papers, shaking files to see if anything was hidden inside, keeping one ear out for Nan. I found a few letters and some emails he’d printed off, but they were all about his project.
And then, tucked away at the bottom of the last drawer, I found an envelope with Aidan’s name written across the front but no address. My hands began to shake as I slipped a single sheet of paper out of the envelope. It was a short note, only three lines long. I grabbed the edge of the desk as my eyes ran over the words.
January 12th
Aidan, I know you’re angry, I realize how you feel, but if only you could understand that we have to keep quiet for Bee’s sake. If we spoke out now it would destroy her life. Haven’t we all suffered enough already?
Dad
He’d written it in January, a few weeks after the terrible row they’d had on Christmas Day, but he’d obviously decided not to send it; either that or he didn’t know Aidan’s new address. I couldn’t take it in. Why were they keeping quiet for my sake? And what was it they were keeping quiet about? I felt sick, a cold, hard lump settling in my stomach like a stone. Dad and Aidan were hiding something. Something BIG.
The row at Christmas had been awful. It was practically the last time I saw Aidan. Dad was trying much too hard, cracking jokes and being really fake and over-jolly, but the more he tried to get Aidan to join in, the more Aidan withdrew. Mum was fluttering about between the two of them, desperately trying to keep the peace, but in the end Aidan lost it.
He accused Dad of being selfish and cowardly; too scared to face up to the past. He went on and on, hurling accusation after accusation, and Dad just took it. He didn’t try to defend himself or argue back, he just sat there with his shoulders hunched as the insults rained down on him. I begged Aidan to stop – I was in floods of tears – but he was beyond listening.
It was easily the worst Christmas Day ever. Aidan stormed out, Dad ended up in his office and Mum carried on serving up the turkey, desperately trying to pretend that everything was normal. I kept asking her where Aidan was and if he was coming back, but she just kept on nagging me to eat, piling food onto my plate, as if stuffing me with dried-out turkey would make everything okay.
Nan was the only one who seemed to realize how upset I was. She came into my room at bedtime and explained that Dad and Aidan were arguing about something that had happened a long time ago. She said all families row, especially at Christmas, and that they’d be friends again in no time. I remember going to sleep feeling so much better, but she was wrong about Dad and Aidan. They didn’t make friends again. He’d only been round once since that day, to pick up his stuff – and he never called me or emailed or anything any more.
I’d been thinking about Aidan a lot since Lizzie told me about her brother; trying to remember the last time we spent any proper time together. It was weird but I didn’t really know the first thing about his life. I didn’t know if he had a girlfriend or where he worked. I didn’t even know where he lived; not since he moved flats. I only knew that he was always angry, always ready to pick a fight, especially with Dad; but that was about it.
I stayed s
lumped against the desk, the note in my hand, desperately trying to understand what it could mean. Was I in danger? Did Dad disappear to protect me in some way? And what did that have to do with Aidan? I just didn’t get it. I’d been searching for clues to clear Dad’s name, to prove he was innocent, but now I was more confused than ever.
It was only as I was leaving the room that I noticed the calendar. It was pinned up on the wall behind Dad’s desk, open at July. It was completely empty except for one day, which was circled in bright red marker pen. The date leaped out at me: JULY 31st. My heart started to beat so fast I thought it was going to burst out of my chest.
July 31st was the day before we left Spain to return home. It was the day Lizzie and her parents held the memorial for Luke. It was the anniversary of Luke’s death.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
I had to get out of the house. Dad was droning on about how certain types of energy can be transferred from one place to another, as if it was just an ordinary Wednesday morning, but if I didn’t get to Dilan’s house by twelve, Bee would think I didn’t want to see her and I’d never find out what actually happened on the night Luke died.
I sat there watching Dad’s lips move, but I had no idea what he was saying. I was completely trapped, a prisoner in my own home. Mum was still out so I couldn’t even rope her in to distract him or persuade him to let me go. I glanced down at my watch. It was already half past eleven and he was still trying to drum the information into my head. Just thirty minutes left to plan my escape.
As soon as the lesson finished I slammed my books shut and ran up to my room. It was just gone twelve. Bee would already be at Dilan’s house. She’d be waiting for me, wondering where I was. I went over to the window, pressing my face against the glass. It was so frustrating. I couldn’t bear the fact that she was so close but so far away at the same time.
When Bee first told me about Melissa Knight bullying her, she said she felt scared all the time, that she wished she had the guts to stand up to her. We were sitting on our rock chatting and I remember saying that I’d sort Melissa out for her, that I wasn’t scared of anyone. But it was such a lie. I’d never stood up to Dad, not properly. I might have answered him back sometimes or muttered under my breath, but that was as far as it went.
What would happen if I walked out of the house right now and went down the road to Dilan’s? What was the worst thing that Dad could do? It was crazy, but just the thought of it made my stomach flip over, as if I was about to go on the scariest roller coaster ride. I sat on the edge of my bed, trying to tell myself it was no big deal, even though my legs had turned to jelly.
I was the coward, not Bee. She knew my dad thought her dad had murdered Luke, but she’d still gone round to Dilan’s with that note for me, and she was obviously doing everything she could to find Aidan. I slipped her literacy book out from under my pillow. I could take it back to her right now, just get up and walk out of the house. Show Dad I wasn’t scared of him, and show Bee how much our friendship really mattered to me.
The poems felt important suddenly, as if they were the only link I had left to Bee and our holiday in Spain. I opened the book and reread the poem she had written that last night about saying goodbye.
GOODBYE
Pale face
Scared eyes
Deep fears
Hope dies
Tight hug
Something’s wrong
Last shrug
Stay strong
Hot tears
Holiday’s end
Take care
Best friend
My heart clenched up as if someone had reached into my chest and squeezed it. She’d totally captured that nightmare moment when Dad had dragged me away from her in the hotel lobby. I whispered the last two lines to myself: Take care, Best friend. Bee was the best friend I’d ever had. I didn’t really know what her dad was guilty of, or why Aidan had written R.I.P. and that he was sorry on the back of the orange-peel photo, but it didn’t matter. No one had the right to keep us apart.
I opened my bedroom door and listened. Dad was in the kitchen, making lunch. It was twenty past twelve. Any minute now he’d call me down. There was no time to mess about. I slipped off my shoes and crept down the hall towards the stairs, cursing every creak. I’d never noticed how hideously noisy the floorboards were before.
I stopped at the bottom of the stairs, pausing for a moment, pressing myself against the wall. The front door was only about five steps from where I was standing, but it was impossible to get there without being seen from the kitchen. I breathed in, trying to make myself as small as possible and then took the first step, my eyes fixed firmly on the doorway to the kitchen. If Dad came out, I’d just say I’d heard someone knocking on the door.
My hand reached for the lock, praying it wouldn’t make too much noise. My heart was pounding. I’d never gone anywhere without telling Dad first. I eased the door open and slipped outside, closing it behind me as quietly as I could. Dad was standing at the stove, his back to the window. I felt guilty for a second, I don’t know why. I was only going down the road to see my friend.
If my life had been normal I wouldn’t have had to do this. I wouldn’t have had to sneak out of my own house like a criminal. But it wasn’t normal. There was nothing normal about it. I’d never been to school or been free to make my own friends, or popped into town to go shopping or see a film. Dad had tried so hard to keep me safe, but he’d only succeeded in driving me away.
I slipped on my shoes, crept past the kitchen window, and then a few steps later I began to run.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I got to Dilan’s really early, way before twelve. It was warm out, but dull, the sun trapped behind a bank of clouds. I hung around outside his house, trying to keep my nerve. I’d told Bailey I wanted to come by myself so I could have a proper chat with Lizzie, but it wasn’t just that. I didn’t want to show him the note Dad had written to Aidan or explain why he had a calendar in his study with the date of Luke’s death circled in red marker pen.
Dilan came out just after twelve. “Is she here yet?” he asked as he came down the path. He looked really cool, in skinny black jeans and a black T-shirt. I wondered if he’d made an effort especially for Lizzie.
“Are you sure she said today at twelve?” I said, peering down the road.
“Positive. She said her dad was going to a meeting. She’d better come. She promised she’d tell me what was going on.”
I shot him a look, surprised. “What do you mean? What was she going to tell you exactly?”
“I don’t know, do I?” he said, shrugging. “That’s the whole point.”
We stood there in silence for a bit. A car cruised down the road towards us. I thought it might be Lizzie’s dad on the way to his meeting but it was a woman with long, blonde hair and dark glasses. I looked at my watch. It was already ten past. What if she didn’t come? What if her dad had found out? What if she thought my dad was guilty and she didn’t want to be my friend any more? What if Dad was guilty and I never saw Lizzie again?
“She was really scared the other day, you know,” said Dilan after a bit. “Maybe I should go and knock on the door. Make sure she’s okay.”
“Are you serious? What would you say?”
“I don’t know, just that we were expecting her for lunch or something...” He trailed off, scuffing the pavement with his foot. I stared at him. He must really like Lizzie if he was prepared to go round there again. I couldn’t wait to tell her, if she ever showed up.
“She’s probably just changed her mind about wanting to see me,” I said, my hand closing over Dad’s note to Aidan in my pocket. “I wouldn’t bother if I was you.”
We stood there waiting until half past twelve. Dilan tried his best to start up a conversation with me. He asked about school and then listed all his favourite bands, but I was much too wound up to chat. She’s not coming, I kept saying inside my head. She’s not coming. She’s not coming. The road was dea
thly quiet. There was no one around; no one playing out, or mowing their lawns.
“Look, I’m going indoors,” said Dilan in the end, checking the time on his phone for the hundredth time. “Give me a shout if she turns up.”
I nodded, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. “Thanks anyway, you know, for taking the note and everything.”
I watched him go up the path and into the house. I think he felt bad for me. Or maybe he was just disappointed. I waited a few more minutes and then turned to go. Lizzie didn’t want to see me again, it was so obvious. But then, just as I reached the corner of Cromwell Close, I heard someone shout my name. It was coming from behind me, from the direction of Lizzie’s house. I swung round, my heart leaping, and there she was, tearing up the road, waving her arms about like a windmill.
“I’m here! I’m here! Don’t go, Bee! I’m sorry I’m late!”
I started to laugh, forgetting everything else; I was just so relieved to see her.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” I called out as she ran towards me. “I thought you didn’t want to be my friend.”
“Of course I want to be your friend!” She threw her arms round me, out of breath. “I just had to sneak out without telling my dad – so don’t be surprised if the police turn up at any moment!”
I glanced over her shoulder in the direction of her house. “But I thought Dilan said he was going to a meeting.”
“He was. He goes every single Wednesday. But can you believe he suddenly decided not to go today. I’ve no idea why. We should get out of here anyway, before he realizes I’ve disappeared.”
“Let’s just tell Dilan you’re okay. He was really upset you didn’t show up.”
“Stop it!” she said, but her face turned crimson.
Forbidden Friends Page 15