by J. C. Jones
‘The dog needs to be on a lead.’
‘I . . . I left it behind,’ Pip muttered.
‘Well, you can’t bring it on here without a lead.’ He was adamant.
‘Please. I need to get into town,’ she whispered, aware that people were starting to pay attention and the man behind her was tapping his foot impatiently.
‘Got rules, love,’ the driver said. ‘Why don’t you call your mum to pick you up?’
Pip wanted to scream at him, No phone, no mum, no nothing except my dog! but instead she just turned and hobbled down the steps, Houdini following, mumbling an apology to the man behind her as she pushed past him.
‘Fair go,’ the man said suddenly to the driver. ‘She’s only going a few stops.’
‘No lead, no ride,’ the driver said.
Pip looked at the young man, who wore a business suit and sunglasses. He didn’t look like the kind of person who usually paid her any attention.
‘It’s okay,’ she said.
‘Look,’ the man said, ‘we can use my tie.’ He undid the knot of his tie, which was gold and sprinkled with little green dinosaurs. ‘Good enough?’ he asked the driver.
The driver sighed. ‘All right, but hurry up. You’re holding up these folks here.’
The man grinned at Pip as he fixed the tie loosely around Houdini’s neck and led him onto the bus while Pip paid her fare.
‘Thank you,’ she said to the driver, ducking her head so he couldn’t get a good look at her.
She sat down opposite the young man, who handed her the tie. To her embarrassment, she saw that Houdini had already managed to slobber on it.
The man just chuckled. ‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘My boss has been complaining about my choice of ties ever since I started working for him.’
‘It’s very kind of you,’ Pip said.
‘You looked like you needed a bit of kindness.’
She nodded.
‘I’m Jack.’
He held out his hand. Pip shook it, noticing his clean nails and expensive watch, and quickly tugged her hand back. Her hands were sweaty and the nails ragged. She wiped her damp palms on Matilda’s jeans and looked around nervously. At least everyone else had gone back to minding their own business.
‘I think I know who you are, but who’s this?’ Jack asked, ruffling the fur on Houdini’s neck. The dog licked his hand and looked up adoringly at him.
‘His name’s Houdini.’
‘Is he as good at escaping as you are?’ Jack whispered.
Pip pressed her lips together and turned to look out the window, wishing the bus would go faster. There were still five stops to go until she could get off.
‘Do you need anything?’ Jack asked quietly.
Thinking of Sully and the rehab money, Pip started to nod yes, but pride turned it to a no. She couldn’t take any more help from a complete stranger, even a nice one like Jack. ‘I’m okay,’ she said.
‘Well, good luck,’ Jack replied, standing up. ‘I’m changing here to go into the city.’
‘Thank you,’ Pip said.
Jack smiled. ‘Your secret’s safe with me.’ He thanked the driver and jogged off the bus.
Too late, Pip thought of the tie. How would she get it back to him? Even if his boss didn’t like it, he might want to wear it when he wasn’t at work – once it had been washed clean of dog slobber.
But the bus was already on the move, and Pip’s stop was the one after the next. She needed time to gather up her bags and Houdini and limp down the aisle. She managed it without falling in anyone’s lap, and hopped awkwardly down.
‘Thank you,’ she muttered to the driver, who nodded absently as new passengers started climbing on.
Pip had deliberately got off near the shops rather than riding all the way to Greene Lane, so that if the driver reported having seen her, the police might not realise she had gone home. Of course, they might have people watching Number 3 just in case. She knew from TV that they did that when they wanted to arrest people.
Just as well she knew a secret way in through a back lane that virtually no one used because it was so overgrown. Pip struggled down it, wrenching her bad ankle again on a loose stone, and then she fought to get the old gate open enough to squeeze herself and her bags through. Finally, though, she was in.
Even though she’d only left the house a week and a half earlier, it felt strange going back. Seen through fresh eyes the cottage looked worse than ever, with a piece of rusty guttering hanging by a thread and the back porch, where Sully had sat most days, sloping at a strange angle. The old frangipani tree was in flower, though, the pretty white and yellow blossoms about the only beautiful thing in the garden. Otherwise it was just a thicket of weeds and overgrown bushes that made everything look abandoned and unloved.
‘Home sweet home,’ she said to Houdini. Houdini didn’t look convinced. He looked up at her as if to say, You’re kidding, right?
‘No more luxury for us,’ she told him. ‘Number 78 Elliott Street is someone else’s house now.’
Putting the bags down on the porch, she shouldered open the back door. Inside, the house was gloomy and smelt stale. Something scuttled across the kitchen floor, and she caught a glimpse of a skink’s tail disappearing under the skirting board.
Pip limped through the kitchen and into the living room, where she carefully peeked around the crooked blind into the street. She couldn’t see any police cars, but that didn’t mean the cops weren’t there waiting and watching in an ordinary car. There would be a better view from Sully’s room upstairs, but the thought of having to climb the narrow staircase on her damaged ankle made her put it off until later. She would just have to be careful not to be seen until she was sure she wasn’t being spied on.
She got some water for Houdini and some ice for herself, which she wrapped in a plastic bag for her ankle. Then she went to sit on the back porch and stare out at the wreck of a garden. What was she going to do now? She’d come too far on her own just to wimp out and let someone else decide what happened to her, but she needed a plan.
However, the best she could come up with was finding Ginger at Canterbury Park tomorrow. She simply had to get some money, despite the risk.
Feeling a bit better now she had a plan for tomorrow, Pip unpacked the food she’d brought from Elliott Street into the fridge. Then she tipped her bag of dirty clothes into the washing machine and switched it on. As she was on her feet, she tried the stairs and found she could haul herself up by her arms without putting too much weight on her right foot.
At the top, she looked at the door into Sully’s room, thinking about what he’d said about a secret.
Just maybe he had left a clue.
Saving Spiro
Pip must have been in here thousands and thousands of times over the years, and was probably as familiar with Sully’s stuff as he was. Where would he keep something private?
Pip usually put his clean laundry away, so it wasn’t likely he would hide something in the chest of drawers, but she looked anyway. The only unexpected thing she uncovered was a rather startled spider that scooted under a pair of socks. She ran her hand under the mattress, too, and – feeling guilty – peered inside the small wooden box where Sully had kept the letters he and his Em had sent each other when they’d been courting, which was what people did before dating was invented. There was nothing, but then maybe Sully’s secret was one that he’d kept in his head.
Once he was feeling better she’d ask him about it – and keep asking until he told her.
Before Pip hobbled back downstairs, she scanned the street below from Sully’s window. Only a few cars were parked nearby and they looked empty. The front yard looked as untidy as the back, with old newspapers piling up around the letterbox. The newspaper! She needed to study the racing news for tomorrow.
Limping outside, Pip went to the letterbox and found the latest paper. She started to gather up the others to take them away and then decided to leave a few scattered outsi
de to make it look as though the cottage was still deserted.
When she hobbled back inside, the washing machine had finished, so she draped her laundry over the backyard line to dry, laughing at Houdini, who was busy peeing on every tree and bush. Then she went back inside to read the racing pages and pick the winners that she hoped would get things back on track.
The next morning, Pip closed the back gate of Number 3 carefully to ensure Houdini couldn’t run out into the road and get squashed or lost while she was out. He had shade, water, biscuits and her old ball to play with. She had thought about the rights and wrongs of keeping a dog prisoner when she had chosen a life of independence, but the fences weren’t that high. If he truly wanted to escape he could, although it would take some effort.
Although her ankle was still a little swollen, she had decided to walk to the station. She had come close to her luck running out several times yesterday and she didn’t want to risk waiting at a bus stop where she might be spotted by one of the kids from school – or worse, a teacher! At the busy train station it would be easier to melt into the crowd.
To get there, she had to walk a long way around to avoid running into students from Spring Hill Public. It was after nine so everyone should be in class by now, but she was still careful when she turned into Church Street, which was only a couple of blocks from school.
When Pip rounded the corner into Mayberry Avenue she breathed a sigh of relief. In five minutes she’d be at the station and on her way to Canterbury. She’d be hours early, but she would find somewhere to hang out with the form guide. It was safer than staying at Greene Lane all morning, where the cops or the welfare could turn up at any time.
In her pocket she felt out the change she would need for her ticket, which was why she didn’t immediately spot Spiro up ahead.
When she did, her first thought was to roll her eyes. He was late to school almost every day. Her second thought was to look for a place to hide before Spiro saw her. In desperation Pip flew behind a car parked in a driveway, watching as Spiro ambled along looking like he had all the time in the world.
Fortunately Spiro didn’t appear to have seen her, but at this rate Pip was going to miss her train.
‘Come on,’ she muttered, peering out from where she hid just as a blue car drove slowly past Spiro and slowed to a halt. ‘Oh no, now he’s going to take all day giving someone directions. Come on, Spotty!’
She could see the driver leaning over the passenger seat. He opened the door and reached out to offer something to Spiro.
Pip’s blood ran cold and her eyes flicked to the number plate. WAD62B. It was him! The creepy guy!
Spiro was stepping forward, taking the chocolate, talking to the man, smiling at him.
Pip wanted to scream out, Go, Spiro! Get away! But she couldn’t without giving herself away. In any case, surely Spotty wasn’t stupid enough to get in the car with someone he didn’t know.
He was. He had put his bag on the backseat and had one leg inside the car when Pip burst from her hiding spot, screaming.
‘Stop! Spiro, get out now!’ But she could see the man had a hold of the boy’s arm, was tugging him inside. ‘Run, Spiro!’ she yelled at the top of her voice.
The man’s lips curled back in a snarl as he spotted her. Then his eyes flicked away, distracted by something. Someone was coming out of a house across the road to investigate.
‘What’s all this screaming?’ a woman called.
‘Call the police, now!’ Pip cried. ‘He’s trying to kidnap Spiro.’
Spiro was yelling, too, as he was pulled further into the passenger seat. Pip raced up the road to the driver’s side and dragged open the door, shouting, ‘Stop it! Leave him alone!’
‘You little . . .’ the man muttered. He shoved Pip away and tried to close the door, but in the process he let go of Spiro. Spiro stumbled onto the verge, where he sat crying.
Pip gripped the doorhandle again, wrenched the door open and let fly with her fist. Smack! It connected with his cheekbone.
‘Ow!’ the man roared, hand over his face. ‘Wait till I . . . you little . . . you assaulted me!’
‘The police are coming!’ called the woman across the road, staying safely behind her fence. ‘You there, leave that child alone!’
‘You’re not getting away,’ Pip yelled, fighting the man for control of the door.
‘We’ll see about that!’ He grinned nastily and put his foot on the accelerator. The car shot forward, dragging Pip with it. She went down on her bad ankle, screaming as the road tore through the knees of her jeans.
Somehow she found her feet as the car picked up pace. Her mouth opened in a scream as she was carried along, refusing to let go. He had to stop, he had to, she thought. But instead, he bared his teeth and let go of the door. Under Pip’s weight, it swung out, her hand slipped and the door smashed her into the tarmac.
Pain seared her skin as she rolled slowly to a stop in the middle of the road. She heard the door slam shut and lifted her head enough to see the car racing off up the street. After all that, he was getting away. She’d failed.
Hurting all over, Pip put her head back on the road and lay there, smelling the warmth of the asphalt. She was only vaguely aware of Spiro sniffling, the woman’s shocked voice and the sound of sirens in the distance.
The squeal of tyres made her lift her head again. She saw smoke coming from the wheels of the blue car as it braked too hard, before the driver lost control and it smashed into a lamp pole.
The emergency sirens were louder now, maybe a street away.
Gingerly, Pip pulled herself into a sitting position. It seemed like there was not an inch of her body that didn’t hurt. Her head was spinning and her ears rang. She crawled to the side of the road and sat in the gutter. She put her hand to her head and it came away bloody. Oh no, she thought hazily, I’m getting blood in my hair. Matilda won’t be happy.
‘Oh my dear, that was a brave thing you did.’ The woman scuttled over to her. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I think . . . I feel . . .’ Pip murmured.
‘You look so pale. Look, the police are here. They’ll know what—’
Pip just managed to turn her head away in time so she didn’t vomit on the woman’s shoes.
‘Oh . . . oh . . . oh, you poor thing,’ the woman twittered. ‘Over here, officer. Hurry! This girl needs medical attention!’
Pip wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. ‘No,’ she murmured. ‘No police. I have to get . . . somewhere.’
‘Right, I’ll take over here, thank you,’ a familiar voice said.
Pip looked up into a pair of blue eyes. ‘Hello, Pip,’ said Senior Constable Molly Dunlop. ‘I thought it was you.’
‘I have to go,’ Pip said faintly. ‘I have to—’
‘Not until you’ve been checked out in hospital.’ Senior Constable Dunlop took out her phone and quietly requested an ambulance. ‘Now, do you feel well enough to tell me what happened? I don’t think your friend will be capable of talking for a while.’
Pip could hear Spiro’s stuttering sobs as a policeman and the woman tried in vain to calm him down.
‘The blue car . . . the man . . . he’s the one. You did catch him, didn’t you?’
‘He’s been apprehended, yes. He was shouting something about you attacking him,’ Senior Constable Dunlop said.
‘I hit him. It was to make him stop. He tried to drag Spiro into his car. So I tried to stop him, and he let go of Spiro but then the car started moving and I got dragged . . .’ The words were tumbling out in a torrent and Pip figured she was babbling, so she stopped.
Senior Constable Dunlop looked down the road towards the scene of the accident. ‘That’s the car you told me about in your letter.’
Pip started to nod but it made her head swim, and when she spoke her teeth chattered uncontrollably. ‘Yes, he tri . . . tried to m . . . make me get in his c . . . car last week. H . . . he said h . . . he knew my m . . . m . . . mum. B . . . but
he didn’t.’
‘Okay, Pip. Don’t try to talk anymore. Just take deep breaths. That’s the girl.’
Pip felt a warm blanket land on her shoulders but she felt dizzy and sick. All she could see were black spots in front of her eyes. She tried to speak, but she needed to put her head down. Then the grass came up to meet her and everything faded to grey.
Centre of Attention
Things were fuzzy for a while. When Pip came to, the black spots were still there but she didn’t feel quite as sick. She could hear the wail of an ambulance siren, and people talking in brisk voices.
‘All right, Pip. It’s Molly. You just fainted. Hardly surprising,’ Senior Constable Dunlop said from somewhere next to her. ‘Don’t try to sit up yet, okay? The ambulance is coming up the road now.’
‘Spiro?’ Pip rasped.
‘He’s fine. Just upset. His parents are on their way. Um, your teacher Mr Blair is going to meet you at the hospital. I thought he would be the best person to contact.’
‘He’s nice,’ Pip managed.
The senior constable gave a choked little laugh. ‘Yes, he is,’ she said. ‘Okay, the ambos will look after you from here. I’d come with you if I could, but I need to help the team wrap things up here.’
After that, there was lots of confusion, people talking about her but not to her, and something was put around her neck before she was lifted onto a stretcher. ‘This is cool,’ she murmured, thinking she’d been in a police car and an ambulance in the last few days.
Five minutes later, they were pulling up at the same hospital where Sully had been admitted. Well, at least there would be no need to sneak in to visit him, she thought.
She must have slept then because afterwards she couldn’t remember going into the hospital and when she woke up, she was in a room like Sully’s but with only two beds. The other was empty, but Mr Blair sat at her bedside. He looked like he was marking homework.
‘Hi,’ she croaked.