by S. Bryce
He strolls along the mud path leading towards the road.
Where does he think he’s going? My curiosity peaks. I clutch my hands under my armpits, suck in my breath and scurry after him. I finally catch up with him.
‘We won’t go far,’ he tells me.
He entwines his fingers in mine.
I don’t know if it’s the breeze or being in Saul’s company, but I feel calmer. I’m aware of the grass and the squelch of mud beneath my feet, of wet rustling leaves, and Saul’s hand in mine.
We cut through a tight gap in the hedge, which seems to disappear once we’re on the other side of it. I find myself standing in front of a vast oak tree. Its branches fan out from the wide trunk acting as an umbrella against the rain. So this is where Saul goes when he wants to be alone. I almost envy him for finding this place, and now he’s invited me in. I should feel privileged. I say should, I don’t know why I’m here yet.
Saul smacks his foot against the root of the tree, trying to wipe a clump of mud from his boot. He stops abruptly, turning to me. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Nothing,’ I say, licking the rainwater from my lips. I tug my fingers out from under his.
‘You were shouting at Tosh. You never shout at Tosh.’
‘Yeah I do,’ I retort, frantically struggling to recall the exact instances over the last few days that I had to raise my voice to my little brother.
‘No you don’t. You never used to.’ He pauses, pressing his hand to his forehead. ‘Not before -’
‘Is that why you brought me out here? To have a go at me for shouting at Tosh. If I shout at Tosh, it’s with good reason. The way he’s been behaving lately, you’d think, you’d think-’ I break off, wrapping my arms around myself protectively.
‘You’d think what?’
‘You’d think he was the only one who’d lost someone - they love.’
Saul puts his arm around me and I rest my head in the crook of his neck. My eyes well up with tears, clouding my vision. Tears I mustn’t let fall.
‘I - I should have taken better care of her,’ I say, pushing Saul’s wet hair out of my face.
‘It’s not your fault. You did your best for her.’
My neck muscles stiffen. My Angry Heat starts to fight its way to the surface.
‘And I’m not doing my best for Tosh, is that it? I know he’s my responsibility and he’s only little. Oh what do you know, you’ve never taken care of him.’
He kisses my forehead. ‘I did take care of him. Remember when Mannis buried Ellie? Do you remember how you were back then?’
‘I don’t remember and this has nothing to do with anything you’ve got to tell me,’ I reply, bitterly recalling how I shut out everyone and everything around me. I shut out Tosh when he needed me most. How can I forget?
‘I’m not having a go. I’m worried about you. You hardly eat. If you tell me what’s on your mind-’
I wriggle free from his grasp and glare at his face, veiled in shadow.
‘I should tell you what’s on my mind!’ I say hotly, wiping away the tear on my cheek.
Saul rams his hands into his pockets and sways uncomfortably. ‘I’m here if you want to talk. That’s all I’m saying.’
‘Thanks,’ I say a little too curtly, ‘But you know what Saul? You don’t need to worry about Tosh and me. I can take care of the both of us and I’m sorry for you if you think I can’t.’
He pulls his hand out of his pocket and takes hold of my arm. I wrench myself free, and run against the whistling winds.
I don’t break my stride. I run past the bungalow and onto the lawn, illuminated by the light coming from the kitchen window. I fling myself on top of Ellie’s grave.
‘I’m so sorry Ellie. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m sorry I didn’t get you to the hospital.’
I sit up sobbing, drawing my knees to my chest. I bury my head in my hands. Half my heartache spills out of me onto Ellie’s grave, the other half clings to me like a bloodsucking leech, zapping my strength and gnawing at my Strong Will.
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…’ I say after each rasping sob.
I close my eyes tight trying to bolt out the pain. This isn’t the time for tears Kate. Crying won’t bring Ellie back.
‘Help me someone, please. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m frightened. I’m frightened, I’m frightened-’
I feel a tug on the hood of my sweater and suddenly I’m dragged to my feet. I spin around trying to see who has hold of me. It’s too dark to see anything and it doesn’t help that my eyes are blurry with tears.
‘Get off me.’ I stumble. My arms flail wildly. ‘Let go of me!’
It’s only when I reach the bungalow door I realise Mannis is the one holding me. He shoves me at an anxious looking Saul.
‘Get her the hell inside!’ he says.
* * *
Chapter 40
Put it Back
I don’t remember Saul taking me back to Our Room and putting me to bed, but he must have because that’s where I wake in the middle of the night, dripping in sweat.
I do remember the nightmare that jerked me out of sleep. A red hoop was chasing me. It chased me all the way down a steep rocky valley. As it spun it grew bigger and bigger, and I ran faster and faster. The hoop whistled loudly behind me. And I kept looking back at it, horrified.
‘Go on Celia,’ a voice called in my head. ‘Grab it. It’s just a rubber hoop. What are you afraid of? Just grab the ruddy thing.’
‘Just keep running Kate,’ said my Strong Will. ‘You know what will happen if you grab it don’t you? You’ll fall and Tosh will be all alone.’
I lost my footing on the rocks and woke up before I took the great tumble down.
I rise from my pillow, rubbing at my sore puffy eyes. My head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds and my damp clothes have pasted themselves to my skin.
The rain’s stopped its incessant thrumming. The wind, however, continues to strike at the windows. It forces its way under the door, through the cracks in the walls and ceiling like the Grim Reaper seeking out its victims.
The light from the torch illuminates one side of the wall. I stare around the room, my eyes flickering wildly. Our old battery torches have been replaced with new ones. I suppose I have Saul to thank for that.
Tosh has buried himself under the covers. I check to see if the diary’s still under my pillow. It is.
I hear a tapping sound coming from the back window. I rush to the window, straining to see beyond my own reflection. I glimpse shadows, twisted, dark clawing shapes that could be something or nothing at all. A twig, I tell myself, blown against the pane by a gust of wind.
My Strong Will returning, I force all thoughts of my confrontation with Saul, and my weeping on Ellie’s grave, to the depths of my mind. Best place for them.
I take Ellie’s blanket out of the crate and hug it tightly to my chest, inhaling the strong musty smell. I leave Our Room, closing the door gently behind me.
Dock’s fallen asleep in the hall. He’s sprawled out on the floor, muttering in his sleep. I accidentally nudge his head with my foot. Perhaps I should go back for the torch. No Kate, a job like this is best done in the dark.
I tiptoe across the hall to the kitchen and push the door open with my fingertips.
There’s a half-moon tonight, a white orb in the sky shining through the dirty kitchen window. My very own night-light.
I cast about frantically. There’s no sign of the Wolf or Mannis. I make out Saul crouching in his corner next to the stove.
The Wolf’s left his jacket on the table. My heart lifts. How easy is this? I squat down and prod at Ellie’s blanket with my fingers. Strange? I can’t feel the gun.
Wakey, wakey Kate. Your hands are numb that’s why you can’t feel anything.
I rub my hands together until they burn hot, and then hastily unroll the blanket. I press out the corners and run my hands up and down the crumpled fabric.
No gun.
Don’t panic Kate. It must have fallen out when you lifted it from the crate. But surely I’d have heard it drop? It’s got more weight on it than a brick. I peer underneath the blanket, hopefully.
No gun.
Not wanting to lose heart, I take to crawling about on my hands and knees. The gun has to be in this room. I’ve come this far. If I go back to Our Room, I’ll lose my nerve. I know I will.
‘I put it back,’ Saul whispers from his corner.
‘What?’ I stop crawling and twist body in the direction of the stove.
A shadow detaches itself from the wall and scampers towards me.
‘The gun I put it back,’ Saul hisses, rocking back on his heels.
‘How?’
‘Tosh told me. It’s all right. I don’t think Rick noticed.’
I feel a cold stab of panic at the mention of Rick’s name. A queasy feeling settles in my stomach. ‘Where is he?’
‘He went out with Mannis.’
Mannis on the prowl with the Wolf and up to no good. The queasy feeling vanishes. I let out a long sigh, which turns into a yawn. ‘What on foot?’
‘No. A man came. He took them in his car.’
‘What man?’
‘Kate, it doesn’t matter,’ he replies exasperated. ‘You’re tired. Why don’t you go back to bed?’
‘I’m not tired.’
He kisses me gently on the cheek. ‘Go back to bed.’
I give him a quick hug and gather up Ellie’s blanket. I stagger to my feet, feeling an unwelcome blood-rush to my head.
Saul retreats to his corner.
‘Thanks Saul. Thanks for everything.’
He doesn’t reply.
I make my way back to Our Room, careful not to step on Dock.
* * *
Chapter 41
Get Up!
I wake in the morning to Tosh’s shouts. His hair stinks of tar soap; his breath of onion soup.
‘Come on Kate. Get up!’ he yells. ‘We’ve got the place to ourselves. Saul’s going to help us clear out the junk room.’
He rips the covers off me. I snatch them back without opening my eyes. My eyes hurt when I pinch them together and my head feels like a water-filled balloon. I guess I’m getting a little taste of what Mannis feels like when he’s hung over. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. I should be light-headed and giddy. After all, the gun’s back in the Wolf’s pocket.
‘Go away Tosh, I’m sleeping,’ I murmur.
‘You can’t be sleeping. It’s too late to be sleeping. Get up or we’ll start without you.’
‘What?’
I squint, allowing a little light into my eyes. Ouch! That hurts. I push my head into the pillow and spread my heavy limbs. I want to be as weightless as a helium-filled balloon.
‘Please Kate get up!’
‘Later.’ Much later, like the day after tomorrow.
I will myself back to sleep. Like a lone swan in a calm pond, I float, gliding into the darkness without a care...
Fire! My scalp’s on fire. My eyes snap open. I whip my head up from the pillow. ‘Ouch! Stop that.’
Tosh crouches over me with a clump of my hair in his hand.
‘Get up.’ He flings my clump of hair at me.
I’m far from floating now. I rub at the sore patch on my scalp, inspecting my fingers for blood. ‘Okay, in a minute.’
I throw myself back onto the pillow, conceding defeat. I wish I could close my eyes again, but I can’t. I'm temporarily dazzled by the orange cable-knit jumper Tosh is wearing. I’ve never seen it before. He’s sits bolt upright, cupping his heels in his hands and looking at me all serious.
A comb has managed to fight its way through his mass of bushy hair. The last time Tosh attempted to comb his hair he fell asleep with the effort, leaving the comb tangled in the nest of curls. I had to break the comb into pieces to get it out.
‘You look like a giant, squishy mandarin,’ I say rubbing my forehead. ‘Who combed your hair, was it you?’
Tosh clicks his teeth, annoyed I’m asking questions when I should be getting out of bed like he told me.
‘Yeah,’ he says, bouncing up and down impatiently. ‘I combed it. Are you going to get up now?’
I use my elbows to push myself up into a sitting position. ‘Okay, but on one condition.’
‘Condition?’ His expression changes from a pout to a frown.
‘You take that dumb look off your face.’
‘I haven’t got a dumb look on my face!’
‘Have.’
‘Have not.’
‘Have too.’
Saul appears with a tray of food. His brown scarf hangs limp around his neck blending with his chocolate-brown jumper. He’s not wearing his hat and his uncombed hair shines like a brand new penny piece. First Tosh comes to me all scrubbed up and then Saul. Feeling distinctly scruffy, I pat down my own head of hair.
‘I made you some breakfast,’ he says, setting the tray on the floor. ‘We’ve had ours.’
‘What time is it?’ I ask.
‘Late morning.’ His cheeks burn chilli-red under my intense gaze.
I look down at the plate: beans, one slice of bread and a yellow wedge, which looks like butter. ‘What’s that?’ I point at the yellow wedge.
‘Cheese,’ Saul says.
‘Hurry up and eat it,’ Tosh urges. ‘We’ve been up for ages.’
I stare around the room. The leaks have dried up. The metal containers and buckets have been returned to their boxes. All the blankets and odd clothes lay in neat piles on the floor.
‘Tosh has been busy,’ Saul says.
‘And Saul,’ Tosh says in a rush. ‘He helped me put the wet blankets up on the washing line.’
I’m impressed. I must have been super-tired to have slept through all that tidying up. I have a feeling Saul helped Tosh a lot more than he’s letting on. I shouldn’t have shouted at him under the oak tree the other night. He was only trying to help. I shouted because I was angry at myself for letting Tosh out of my sight long enough to take the Wolf’s gun, for Ellie’s death and for losing my grip on the Red Hoop.
I wrap the cheese in the slice of bread and take an enormous bite. The bread’s stale. It sticks in my throat and the cheese is a bit mouldy. I enjoy it all the same.
Three bites later, I’m finished. Saul hands me half a bottle of warm water to wash down the bread particles jammed in my throat.
‘Did Mannis and Rick come back?’ I ask.
‘Yeah, they came in and went out again,’ Saul says. ‘Rick wanted me to go with them, but Mannis said no.’
‘What did Rick say to that?’
A rare smile creeps to Saul’s lips. ‘A whole heap of swear words.’
‘And what about Dock?’
Saul tugs at this scarf tails. ‘In the kitchen asleep.’
‘Farting beans,’ Tosh says with a chuckle.
I smile in spite of myself. I pick up the fork and tuck into my beans. I’ll leave the rest of the questions, I have stored up, until later.
* * *
Chapter 42
Junk Mountain
I wash, and then hurry to the junk room where Saul and Tosh appear to be making a head start - or what they believe to be a head start.
Tosh has decided he’s a mountaineer. Throwing a piece of rope across his shoulder, he clambers up Junk Mountain, tossing rotten planks and bits of paper into the air as he goes.
Saul’s a racing driver. With arms outstretched and his brow knitted together, he clutches an old steering wheel in both hands and makes BRRAAOOOM noises.
I rest my hands on my hips and purse my lips in mock disapproval. ‘I thought we were meant to be clearing the junk room not playing in it.’
Saul flushes red and hurls the wheel to the floor.
‘I am clearing it,’ Tosh cries from the top of Junk Mountain. He plucks up a chunk of plaster and throws it. It lands two feet in front of him.
‘There’s some bags here,’
I say, pointing to one corner of the room where five grey plastic bags, already half-full of rubbish, sit huddled together. ‘I thought we could start by filling those.’
‘I’m treasure hunting,’ Tosh says. ‘Not tidying.’
‘Then have it your way,’ I say, stooping to pick up a crumpled newspaper.
‘I’ll pile up the dry wood,’ Saul says, gazing apprehensively at the hundreds of pieces of wood littering the room.
I gather some mouldy newspapers and ram them into one of the bags. My mind’s elsewhere. Two doors along in fact, where there sits a treasure chest with real treasure.
One of the bags has started to lean. I straighten it. Saul stands across from me, plucking twig-like pieces of wood off the floor.
‘Do you know where Mannis and Rick went?’ I ask.
‘All I know is that the man who picked them up last night took them out again this morning.’
‘Did he take the chest?’
Saul blinks at the question. ‘He might have, but I didn’t see it.’
I raise my head sharply to look at him. ‘So it’s still there?’
He has his back to me. I watch it turn rigid.
‘You’d better not,’ he says, spinning on his heel to face me.
‘But you must have wondered?’
Whatever force propelled me to go into the woods at the bottom of the lawn has gripped me again like a high-pitched fever.
Saul shakes his head. ‘Sometimes you’re better off not knowing.’
‘It’s just a peep,’ I say, bringing my forefinger and thumb together.
I’m jittery and nervous with excitement. In my mind’s eye, I imagine the chest thrown open, brimming with gold, diamonds, rubies and pearls. Pirates Treasure. Surely that’s worth a peep?
Tosh clearly likes my idea. He plummets down the mountainside and slides straight into my arms. ‘Let’s go look for real treasure!’
‘Rick and Mannis could come back any time,’ Saul says, glowering sternly.
‘You can keep a look out,’ I suggest, walking to the door. ‘Come on Tosh, let’s go and look for real treasure.’