Dark Ride

by Caroline Green

  It didn’t take long to find the beginning of Lockett’s Rise.

  I don’t know why, but my heart started to bang against my chest like a trapped bird and the back of my neck prickled as I got further up the road.

  47, 49, 51...

  Number 53 had a neglected air. There were hanging baskets with dried brown stuff hanging out and the windows were dirty. I peered inside and could see a small kitchen with just a table and a few chairs. It felt like no one had lived here for a long time. Could this be the wrong house? I fumbled for the envelope, but no, it definitely said number 53.

  I heard a noise and noticed a round, pink face at the window next door, two bright eyes looking at me. Before I could turn away, an old lady was out the front, her arms crossed over her chest and her chin raised.

  ‘Can I help you, dear?’ she said.

  ‘Urgh.’ Better try again. I cleared my throat and tried to speak like a normal person. ‘Have you seen the boy who lived here?’

  The old lady stared at me for ages and a horrible feeling began to curdle in my stomach.

  ‘Oh dear,’ she said at last, her hand fluttering to her chest. ‘Hasn’t anyone told you?’

  ‘Told me what?’ I whispered. I had a horrible premonition that I didn’t want to know the answer.

  ‘I think you’d better come inside.’

  ‘No!’ I didn’t mean to say it like that and the lady flinched. ‘Sorry, but can you just tell me? Have you seen him?’

  ‘Oh dear,’ she said again. ‘Oh dear ... Well, the thing is, lovey, I’m afraid he, he passed away.’

  I had a rushing feeling in my ears and a big hot wave of sick in my throat.

  Tears splintered everything at the thought of Luka crawling away from his fall and dying alone.

  The old lady was speaking again but my brain wasn’t able to untangle what she was saying.

  ‘What?’ I squeaked.

  ‘It was a dreadful thing,’ she said. ‘As it’s the anniversary coming up, I was just thinking about it.’

  What was she talking about? ‘What do you mean, anniversary?’

  She hesitated again. ‘Well... it’s almost a year since the boy and his mother died.’

  Grey pavement rushed towards me like a wall.

  A strong grip was on my arm and then a hallway smelt of furniture polish.

  A sofa with patterns and wallpaper with different patterns swam in front of me, so that they all mixed together and made the sick in my throat keep rising until it blurted out of my mouth, right into a basin that was magically in front of me.

  I sat there, too numb to think straight and she was back, removing the stinky basin without a word, and then putting down a tray with a teapot and a plate of ginger biscuits. The room was silent apart from the sound of a clock ticking and completely wrong, cheerful radio noises from another room.

  The old lady handed me a cup of milky tea and I took a sip, my hands shaking so much I slopped some on my jeans.

  ‘Lots of sugar,’ she said. ‘That’s what you need for shock. Have a biscuit too.’

  I didn’t want one but took one like a robot and bit into it. The taste seemed to bring everything back into focus along with a bright thudding in my chest.

  ‘Did you know him well, lovey?’ The old lady had her head on one side like a bird.

  I just nodded. Protests were screaming inside my head. It’s obviously a mistake! How can he be dead when I’ve spent half the week with him? You’ve got it wrong, that’s all. It’s just a stupid mistake.

  But the words didn’t come. I just sat there, while she talked quietly.

  ‘It was an awful thing. There was an accident, a car accident. The police said she lost control of the vehicle and they drove straight off St Lawrence’s Headland into the sea.’

  I was staring at her, still unable to take in her words.

  ‘They said they ...’ she hesitated,’... died instantly.’ She cleared her throat.

  I got up abruptly. ‘I have to go now.’ My voice was hoarse and every part of me was hurting like someone had punched me all over.

  She got up too and placed her warm, dry hand on mine. ‘I know it’s a shock. But time is a great healer and you’re still young. You’ll get over this, really you will.’

  I pulled my hand away and walked out of the room. I didn’t even thank her for being so kind to me. I just had to be alone. As I walked out of the front door and back down the road, I could feel her concerned eyes boring into my back.

  It couldn’t possibly be true. It was too crazy to be true.

  But maybe it was true? Maybe it had been right in front of my nose all along and I’d just been too dumb to see it.

  No one could have fallen from that height and walked away. He wouldn’t let me see his hand when he cut it on the glass either. I thought of the waitress in the café, looking at me so weirdly. She must have thought I was cracked, sitting there talking to myself.

  I’ve been figuring some things out, Bel. That’s what he said, right before he jumped.

  I knew exactly where to look, but when I got to the outside of the fairground, everything was different. There were vans parked all over the place. A big green portakabin was in pieces on the side of the road. I stood there, unsure what to do next when a low whistle came from nearby. I looked over and saw there was another old building with a tatty yard behind it. I slipped through a gap in the fence and there was Luka, sitting on a wall.

  He looked like he’d been waiting for ages. We didn’t speak. All I could do was stare at his face and neck and hands which looked so real and fleshy, and his trainers and jeans and hoodie. Just like any other boy. There was the hole in the knee of his jeans where you could even see a circle of pink skin. I remembered touching his cheek and how cold he was. But real.

  ‘Go on then.’

  When he spoke it made me jump. ‘Go on then, what?’

  ‘Get all the questions you’re gagging to ask out the way.’

  ‘Is it... is it true?’

  He shrugged. ‘Seems so, doesn’t it?’

  ‘But you’re so ... solid.’We stared at each other again and then I had a mad notion. ‘Is this some sort of stupid joke, Luka, because if it is ...’ My voice went into a squeak.

  He did a disgusted swoop with his eyes. ‘It’s not looking very funny to me,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know until yesterday either. It was seeing the date on that calendar in the café. It made a bunch of weird things make sense.’

  ‘Can everyone see you?’

  ‘No. Just you.’

  ‘Why me?’

  ‘Don’t know. No idea. Next?’

  ‘Where do you go at night? Do you sleep?’

  He gave me such a look then, my insides withered a bit. ‘Of course I sleep. I’ve been sleeping rough in the fairground. You knew that.’

  ‘What about eating? Can you eat like other people?’

  He looked up at the sky. ‘Probably. But I can’t remember being hungry or thirsty.’

  I hesitated before speaking again. ‘Can you, you know, do stuff?’ He gave me a withering look and I instantly regretted it.

  ‘Stuff?’

  ‘Like, I don’t know, walking through walls.’

  He got up, his expression icy. ‘Let’s see, shall we?’

  And then to my horror, he ran full-pelt into the wall.

  I screamed as he thumped into it and staggered back, clutching his head. But there was no mark and he seemed to recover quickly.

  ‘Doesn’t look like it, does it?’ he said, a bit out of breath.

  I knew I should stop but I had one more question. It was the hardest of all to get out.

  ‘What does it... feel like?’

  ‘What, being dead?’

  I flinched.

  ‘It’s a laugh-a-minute, what do you think?’ He spat the words out like hard pips. ‘You feel so lonely it’s like someone has scooped out your insides. Like you’re the only person in the world. It feels like a bad joke and everyone is in another
room laughing. Any minute now someone will say, “Surprise!” and everything will be normal again.’ He was breathing heavily. He sank back against the wall. When he spoke again he sounded sort of hollow. ‘That’s how it feels.’

  ‘Do you remember anything?’ I said and he shook his head, his eyes fearful. I took a deep breath, knowing I was about to hurt him.

  ‘Luka, I’d better tell you some stuff,’ I said quietly.

  CHAPTER 16

  Knowing

  It was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. As I told him what the old lady had said, his eyes were sort of pleading, like he didn’t want to hear the words, but when I did hesitate, he hurried me on.

  I finished speaking and reached for his hand. He gripped mine so hard it hurt.

  ‘I dream about being trapped. I can hear Eva’s voice calling to me but I can’t reach her.’ He stared at the ground. Then he said, ‘So she’s dead too?’ as though it had suddenly just hit him.

  He jumped to his feet, and squeezed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He was saying, ‘No, no, no,’ over and over again and was bent almost double, like someone had actually punched him. I could see the soft skin at the back of his neck and I put my arms round him and held him, feeling his body shaking against me, trying to block the pictures flooding in my mind. I was crying now too, not caring about anything any more. I just held on for ages until he became still and he pulled away. His face was tight and his dark eyes were bloodshot and puffy.

  ‘Luka, I’m so sorry,’ I said.

  He wiped his face with a shaky hand. ‘I tried to go home,’ he said. ‘When I first... well, found myself in the fairground. But it was like something was pulling me back. I just couldn’t do it. Maybe I didn’t want to face it.’

  He looked at me then with a desperate expression. ‘Why am I here and not her?’ he said. ‘Why have I come back?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ I said miserably. ‘I just don’t know.’

  ‘I feel like she’s here sometimes,’ he said and he lifted his chin a little as though daring me to mock him. ‘I can’t see her, but I feel... something.’

  We were silent for a moment. I didn’t know what to say.

  ‘Come and sit for a minute,’ I said and, taking his hand, led him over to a low wall. I felt shy about touching him again, now the worst of the news was out, but held onto his hand anyway.

  ‘It doesn’t make any sense,’ he said. ‘She was a really good driver. She was always careful on that bend. There’s no way she’d have driven too fast... unless

  ‘Unless someone forced her off the road,’ I finished the thought. ‘But why?’

  Luka reached into the pocket of his hoodie, which meant letting go of my hand.

  ‘I don’t know. But look, I found her camera,’ he said, pulling out a battered leather case with a long strap.

  ‘I went into the ghost train yesterday and found this wedged right near the back. It looks like someone tried to get it off her because the strap’s broken.’

  I gently took the leather case from Luka’s fingers. He was right. I could see that the shoulder strap had been snapped, as though it had been pulled hard.

  ‘Have you tried turning it on?’ I said.

  ‘Battery’s dead,’ said Luka. ‘And someone has taken out the memory card.’

  ‘Maybe she had some pictures someone wanted,’ I said and Luka nodded.

  ‘She used to say that a picture painted a thousand words. Her English was good, but she still sometimes couldn’t find the right expressions and she got frustrated. It was like her photos were, I dunno, her voice sometimes.’

  I could feel that he was getting himself together and I almost minded. I wanted to hold him again and had no excuse now. I felt ashamed and let out a big breath to try and clear my own head.

  ‘So what now?’ I said. ‘We have nothing concrete, Luka. We don’t know why someone was after her. We don’t know anything, really.’

  ‘No, but maybe that’s why I’m here,’ said Luka, his voice determined now. ‘To find out what happened and get justice for Eva – and for me too, I guess. I don’t know what I’m meant to do, but I know I can’t do it alone, Bel. I wouldn’t blame you for running a mile, though.’

  He was looking into my eyes intently and, again, I saw his gaze move across my face in a way that made me hold my breath. I saw him swallow and he looked down. My stomach gave another little jump.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere, Luka,’ I whispered.

  CHAPTER 17

  Newcastle

  I walked in the front door in a daze. Mum was on the phone and her face softened when she clocked me.

  ‘Look, Bel’s here now. Why don’t you talk to her?’ She handed me the phone and mumbled, ‘It’s your dad.’

  Normally, I’d have grabbed it, but I hesitated, as though the phone were contaminated or something. The awful thing Mum said a few days before flashed into my mind.

  ‘Bel? Is that my Jelly-B?’

  ‘Hi, Dad.’ My voice was flat.

  ‘How are you, princess?’

  ‘I’m okay, I guess. I miss you.’

  ‘I miss you too, honey. Look, Bel, I’ve got some good news. Looks like I’m going to get there on Christmas Eve after all.’

  ‘Oh. That’s good.’

  ‘Yeah, so we can have a proper Christmas.’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘And Bel...’ He cleared his throat.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘We’ll need to have some talks about stuff. Me, you and Mum.’

  I didn’t speak.

  ‘Bel? You still there?’

  ‘Yeah ...’

  ‘I’ll explain everything properly in person, but I wanted to give you a heads up. I’ve been offered a job.’

  ‘A job?’ I said. ‘That’s good, right?’

  ‘Well, thing is ... it’s in Newcastle.’

  ‘But that’s miles away! That’s practically Scotland!’

  I could hear Dad breathing heavily on the other end of the phone. I stared down at the small phone table that was covered in rubbish, including a business card from that Will bloke, which he’d obviously given Mum. I gave an inward tut.

  ‘It’s a really well-paid job, is the thing,’ Dad was saying now. ‘I’m not exactly in a position to turn it down. Look, I’ll see you at Christmas and we’ll talk properly then. Now put your mum back on.’

  I handed her the phone without saying goodbye and went into the kitchen. I sat down at the table and listened to Mum speaking in that special high-pitched voice she reserved for Dad.

  ‘I still don’t understand why you can’t just book a train and let me know when you’re getting in. We’ll come and pick you up if you just tell me when.’

  There was silence.

  ‘But Steve ...’ She gave a huge sigh. ‘Okay, look, I’m not really interested. I just wish for once you’d do things properly.’

  I got up from the table and walked back into the hall then up the stairs. Even though I looked straight ahead, I could see Mum watching me as I left.

  Once I was in my bedroom, I lay down on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I could still hear the rumble of Mum’s voice on the phone. I was glad I couldn’t hear the actual words any more.

  My thoughts were on a loop ... The accident, Luka, Dad, Newcastle, the accident, Luka, Dad, Newcastle. A week ago I’d have asked Dad to take me with him. Newcastle had all sorts of good things. I was sketchy on the details but it wouldn’t have been Slumpton, and me and Dad would have been together so nothing else would have mattered that much. But everything was different now. When I was in that old lady’s house and I thought I’d lost Luka for ever ... well, something had changed.

  I knew I couldn’t leave him now.

  I had my face buried in my pillow when I heard the doorbell. Mum’s bright visitor-voice floated up the stairs.

  ‘Bel? Bel, come on down here,’ said Mum. I decided to ignore her.

  Minutes later there was a soft knock at my door.


  I ignored that too but the knocking was insistent. I jumped up angrily and wrenched the bedroom door open.

  ‘Oh!’ I said. ‘Sorry. I thought you were my mum.’

  The girl from down the road was standing there, twiddling a strand of her long blond hair and blushing a little bit. ‘Sorry,’ she parroted. ‘Your mum and then my mum insisted I came up here. My mum’s organising one of her homeware crap parties. Look, I’ll just make myself comfy here on the stairs and we can pretend we’ve had a huge bonding session if you like.’

  My cheeks tweaked in an unfamiliar way. I realised I was smiling.

  ‘No, that’s okay,’ I said. ‘I’m Bel.’

  She nodded. ‘Yeah, I know. I’m Abbie.’

  I waited for her to ask about my name, like most people did, but she said nothing, just looked at me as though trying to decide something.

  ‘Um, do you want to come in?’ I said and opened the door.

  ‘Who wouldn’t?’ she said drily, and I blushed, suddenly seeing my bedroom through another’s eyes. I hadn’t bothered to put up any posters and my clothes were everywhere.

  ‘I guess it is a bit of a mess,’ I said.

  ‘Yeah, but you have only just moved in,’ she said kindly as she came inside. ‘It’s got potential.’

  ‘It has?’

  ‘Yeah, I love these skylights. Look, it’s like my room. If you just do this ...’

  To my amazement, she kicked off her silver ballet flats and neatly stepped onto my unmade bed. She started battering the window frame. I’d never opened it before, what with it being DECEMBER and all, but after a lot of huffing and puffing and some bits of dried paint dusting her head, the window was open and letting in a sharp slice of air.

  ‘Come see,’ she said, her cheeks pink with exertion.

  I cautiously climbed onto the bed, as though it was hers and not mine. I avoided her eyes, getting uncomfortably close to look out the window.

  ‘Check that out,’ she said and I gasped.

  I could see the great grey slab of the sea in the distance and, because we were at the top of the hill, all the rooftops swished down in pretty patterns. There was smoke coming from a few chimneys and the sky was a swirl of bruised pink clouds.