Dark Ride

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Dark Ride Page 8

by Caroline Green


  ‘Wow!’ It was all I could say.

  ‘Yeah, Slumpton doesn’t look so grim from a distance,’ she said and I laughed.

  ‘Abbiiiie!’ an unfamiliar voice called from downstairs.

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Mein Kommandant’s calling. Look, some people are coming round tomorrow evening. Friends from school. You’re going to DS, right?’

  It took me a minute to work out that she meant David Stafford. I nodded.

  ‘Good. Why don’t you come over too? About seven?’

  A shy, happy feeling flushed my face. ‘Yeah, I will. Thanks,’ I said.

  She bobbed her head in a casual goodbye and bounded down the stairs.

  I climbed back on the bed again and poked my head out into the darkening sky. I still thought Slumpton was a dump but had to admit, it looked kind of pretty from up here. I breathed in the crisp air, thinking about Abbie’s visit. It was nice to know there might be a friend for me here. One who was alive. It was all very well mooning about the place over Luka, but even if he liked me back, it was hard to imagine a future together. Could he ever be mine to keep?

  CHAPTER 18

  Window Bars

  It was Saturday the next day and Mum wasn’t working. I told myself that was the reason why I didn’t rush straight out to the fairground again. It wasn’t the whole story though.

  Part of me was desperate to see Luka again and a couple of times I even started getting ready to go out. But something kept pulling me back. The fact that Luka was a ghost wasn’t the problem, crazy as that sounds. It was the thought that he and Eva might have died because of something she knew.

  Could they really have been murdered? It scared me, especially when I thought about the beating we’d witnessed in the fairground. This wasn’t a world I recognised. If I walked away now, maybe I could be sure that I was safe. But was losing Luka a price I was prepared to pay?

  The thoughts just kept see-sawing inside my head. I slumped around the house until Mum got in a strop and forced me to go with her into town.

  We still hadn’t spoken properly, not since the night of the slap. We walked down into the town centre in silence, Mum occasionally shooting glances my way.

  ‘I tell you, I’m missing that old car!’ she said finally, with a false laugh. We’d let Dad keep the car because he had to move around the country with the band.

  I didn’t respond.

  ‘I must get on with buying Christmas stuff. Any ideas on what you’d like this year?’ she said.

  Oh, she was good.

  ‘Still hoping for an iPod,’ I said through my teeth.

  ‘That might be a little bit beyond our budget this year, Bel,’ said Mum. ‘Is there anything else you fancy?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘My old life back.’

  All you could hear after that was the clip-clop of Mum’s boots as we walked along the icy pavement and the usual chorus of screeching seagulls that accompanied your every waking moment in this town.

  Mum had to collect some dry cleaning from a shop on the outskirts of the town centre so we walked further than I’d gone before, in the opposite direction to the marina and fairground. When she came back out, her mobile rang. She seemed to get a lot of phone calls these days. I could tell instantly it was that Will bloke. She slightly turned her back to speak so I crossed over to a wall and leaned against it, not really wanting to hear her shamelessly flirting.

  That’s when I noticed the sign on the building next to me.

  TMS Knitwear. Quality Fashions at Wholesale Prices.

  For a second I stared blankly at it. And then it clicked. That was the name we’d seen on the flyer in Eva’s ticket booth. It looked very unwelcoming. The windows had bars on them and there was a metal front door that would have withstood a tank.

  Curious, I got up and walked around the side of the building. There was a small grubby window just out of reach. Looking quickly around, I climbed onto a loose pile of bricks from a sagging fence to get a peek inside.

  I could see there were rows and rows of tables where women were working at sewing machines. Some of them had dark features and looked foreign and several of them weren’t much older than me. A large man was standing at the end of the room, talking on a mobile phone, and when he turned, I almost fell down. It was the man with no neck I’d seen at the Town Hall and then beating up that man in the fairground. I drew back slightly but watched him turn to a girl who looked about sixteen. He shouted something right into her face. She cowered back in her chair like she was scared he would hit her.

  Hot indignation blasted through me.

  ‘Bel?’

  I slipped and fell, gouging my knee on the brick.

  Mum was staring at me.

  ‘What on earth are you doing? Why are you looking in that window?’

  I heard the back door being opened and I grabbed Mum’s arm. ‘Just being nosy,’ I said hurriedly. ‘Let’s get home.’ I pulled my protesting mother quickly away, too scared to look back and check if I’d been seen.

  There was much harrumphing from Mum about my weird behaviour on the way home. But I tuned her out, trying to think.

  Why had Eva kept that flyer? And did it have something to do with her and Luka’s deaths?

  My head was aching from it all.

  I hoped going to Abbie’s would help take my mind off things.

  Back home, Mum was delighted when I told her I’d been invited round.

  She moved my hair off my face with such a soft expression in her eyes that, for a moment, I thought I was going to crumple like a used tissue.

  ‘Are you all right, Bel?’

  I got up abruptly. ‘I’m fine. Better get ready.’

  I put on my favourite T-shirt, slicked on some lip-gloss and a wave of mascara. I didn’t feel like dressing up, but Abbie looked quite stylish from what I’d seen and I wasn’t going to have people from Slumpton looking down on me.

  I looked at my slightly blurry reflection and took some deep breaths. I felt nervous, like I’d forgotten how to be just a normal girl who thought ghosts were in stories and people only got beaten up on telly.

  I had to get a grip.

  It was after seven when I said goodbye to Mum and wound my woolly scarf around my neck. Mum insisted I took a torch with me because some of the streetlights were broken and she stood at the front door until I was out of sight. It was only me saying she would ruin my one and only friendship if she came with me that stopped her walking me all the way.

  When I got to Abbie’s, I looked up to the top window. I knew the skylight would be her bedroom because she’d said it was the same as mine. The window was open and strands of music and raucous laughter flew out like long streamers. There was a warm, orange glow and it looked so comforting. The safest, nicest place I could imagine.

  But then I started thinking about the tender place at the back of Luka’s neck for some reason and I suddenly wanted to see him so badly that my knees almost gave way. So what if there was something bad going on? Was I really going to let him deal with it alone?

  I looked up at the welcoming window once again, heart thumping.

  ‘Sorry, Abbie,’ I whispered under my breath and started to run.

  CHAPTER 19

  A Perfect Fit

  When I got to the fairground, I gasped at what I could see through the fence.

  Some of the rides had been taken away and there were massive bald patches everywhere. The rollercoaster and the ghost train were still there, along with the stalls, but if it had felt desolate before, now it felt like it was pure sadness that howled through all the cracks in the hoardings.

  He was gone. I just knew it. Maybe he thought I wasn’t coming back and he’d moved on somewhere else. I stood there, not knowing what to do, feeling like I wanted to cry. I had to make myself go in there to be sure. Even with a torch and the moonlight illuminating everything brightly, the thought of being in there alone was awful. I took a deep breath. I was going to look for Luka if it killed me. With trembli
ng hands, I fed one of the tickets into the turnstile.

  Once inside, I looked around and shivered.

  The edges of everything stood out sharply in the crisp air and there were long shadows cast by the remaining bits of equipment. The sky was covered with great smears of stars I’d never been able to see in London. I swallowed deeply and I forced myself to walk further into the fairground.

  ‘Luka?’ I called out tentatively. It felt wrong to speak any louder. There was no reply, just the distant crash and whoosh of the sea.

  I walked around for a bit, but he wasn’t anywhere obvious. I didn’t know what to do now. I looked at my watch. It was too late to go to Abbie’s, but it was too early to go home. I’d agreed ten with Mum and it was only eight.

  My heart was in my boots. I didn’t want to go home and I didn’t want to hang around here, alone. I was just about to walk towards the exit when I found myself going the other way. I had the weirdest urge to look at Eva’s photos again. I don’t know why. Maybe it was because they were so full of life and colour and everything else here felt so dead. Or maybe it was just because they were connected to Luka.

  The door of the ticket booth was still open and I went inside, carefully checking for giant cobwebs. I scanned the wall. The cute picture of little Luka made me smile. Then I spotted another one of him next to it that I hadn’t noticed the other day.

  It looked recent. His hair was being blown by the wind and he was making a face as though protesting at the picture, but smiling, eyes shining. I touched his face with my finger. When it was taken, he was alive. Just a normal good-looking boy who probably had loads of girlfriends. If I’d met him then, would he even have looked at me twice?

  Guiltily, I pulled the picture down and stuffed it into my pocket.

  I looked around again and realised something. There was one place I hadn’t checked for Luka.

  The ghost train.

  I bit my lip, paralysed with indecision. I couldn’t bear the thought of going into that creepy ride alone, at night.

  I forced myself to think it through. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve and Mum wouldn’t be back at work for ages. It was going to be really difficult to get over here during the holidays. And I still didn’t know where he would go when the fairground got demolished in the New Year. The thought that I might never see Luka again made me close my eyes for a moment. When I opened them, I tried to breathe slowly. I had to check out the ghost train.

  I came out of the booth and looked back into the fairground, still hesitating. An owl hooted somewhere nearby. My nervous breaths were making hazy clouds in the cold air.

  Stop being such a baby, Bel. It’s only a cheesy ride.

  I forced myself back into the fairground, trying to convince myself it was no big deal, but all my courage had dribbled away anyway by the time I got to the entrance of the ghost train. I stood there, vibrating all over with terror and cold and then forced myself to peek tentatively inside. Just off to the left, I could see a row of switches and remembered Luka fiddling with them the day I had my ride. I batted the memory of the spooky whispering away like a fly, even though it made adrenalin flood through me. If I could just get the lights on, it would be okay. I stepped cautiously into the entrance and took small steps forward, my torch sending a pathetic blob of white light in front of me.

  There was a bunch of rags in the corner. Just before I reached the switches, the bunch of rags started to rustle and move, before slowly rising up.

  ‘ARGHHHHHHH!’ I went and ‘ARGHHHHHHH’ went the rags as I dropped the torch and tore back the way I’d come.

  Luka appeared outside about two seconds later, his hair sticking up like a brush and his eyes wide.

  ‘What were you doing in there, Luka?!’ I yelled.

  ‘I was sleeping!’ he yelled back. ‘What were YOU doing?’

  We stared at each other, panting slightly from shock, and then in the same split second we both started howling with hysterical laughter.

  Luka had the funniest laugh ever, like ‘Her-her-her-her!’ He was wiping his eyes and clutching his stomach. After a bit, we calmed down and just grinned at each other, goofily.

  ‘I couldn’t find you,’ I said, ‘I thought you’d...’

  ‘I didn’t think you’d come back...’

  We both spoke at once then grinned again.

  ‘You first,’ said Luka.

  ‘Why were you sleeping in that creepy old place?’ I asked.

  ‘You may have noticed they’re taking my luxury pad apart,’ he said.

  I nodded to where the creepy policeman doll used to be. ‘Yeah. They’ve even taken laughing boy away.’

  ‘Yeah,’ sighed Luka, following my gaze. ‘I quite miss that crazy guy.’ He looked at me again. ‘I just wanted somewhere to shelter. It gets a bit lonely and spooky in here at night.’

  ‘Surely you’re not frightened of ghosts?’ I said with a smile, but he didn’t smile back and I wished I hadn’t said it.

  Luka cleared his throat in a stagey way and then turned to look at me. His dark eyes looked tired and I fought the overwhelming urge to stroke his cheek.

  ‘Um, Bel...’ he started to say. ‘I...’ but I clutched his arm because I realised I could hear something floating up through the floor. It was that whispering noise again, coming from inside the ghost train, but louder now. We stared at each other, wide-eyed.

  ‘There it is again,’ I hissed. ‘I told you there was something.’

  We stood there like statues, trying to make out what was being said but it was just beyond our reach. I had the strangest feeling that if I could just make out the words, I wouldn’t be scared.

  ‘I hear that at night sometimes,’ said Luka quietly.

  I looked at him.

  ‘I sometimes think it’s Eva,’ he said. ‘You know, trying to send me a message or something.’ He sighed. ‘But it’s not working if she is. And why here of all places?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ I shivered. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

  Luka walked me back towards the entrance.

  ‘Doesn’t seem like we’ve got much further, does it?’ I said.

  ‘I guess not,’ he said.

  We stopped near the gates.

  ‘Er, Luka ...’ I began. ‘It’s Christmas Eve tomorrow and my mum’s off work. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get back here for a few days.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said in a flat voice. ‘Right.’

  ‘I can’t help it being Christmas!’

  He gave a tight smile. ‘I know. It’s just... well, it sort of... keeps me going, seeing you.’

  I was so taken aback by this, my next words tumbled out too fast. ‘I’ll come back as soon as I can, I promise. I want to see you too.’ All my defences were melting by the second and tears blurred my vision.

  ‘Aw, come on. Don’t go making that piggy face again, Ann-aaa-belle,’ said Luka and I laughed a bit hysterically.

  ‘I warned you about calling me that!’ I hiccupped and went to play hit him but he caught my hand and held onto it. We both straightened our arms and our fingers linked together easily. I went to wipe my tears with my other hand but Luka’s was suddenly there instead. I felt the gentle pressure of his fingers across my cheek and shivered.

  And then his face was very close. I saw his long lashes like two black semicircles as he closed his eyes and his cool lips touched mine.

  It wasn’t the first time I’d kissed a boy. It wasn’t even the second. But the other times had been wet and pushy with not much pleasure involved. This ... this was very different. Our mouths were a perfect fit. I swear it was like the dark, desolate fairground melted away and I could almost hear laughter and music from the rides and sense bright, colourful lights swirling around us. Just for a moment, amid all the bad stuff, this was a happy place again.

  When we finally broke apart, he held me close and I squeezed back, hard, trying to breathe him in and wishing I could stop time and live in this moment for ever.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Bel,�
�� he whispered.

  ‘Merry Christmas, Luka.’

  CHAPTER 20

  Comfort and Joy

  ‘And this is just a little something extra from me, Jelly-B.’

  Dad reached behind the cushion on the sofa and handed me a small, wrapped package. Mum looked at him sharply but his eyes were only on me, twinkling.

  He’d turned up late on Christmas Eve. I’d tried to stay awake, but by eleven-thirty I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. Voices from downstairs had lured me back to consciousness.

  ‘I can’t believe you actually went to the pub before coming here!’ Mum’s voice went rat-at-at-at, like a gun. Dad’s, though, was mellow as hot chocolate.

  ‘I’ve been travelling since this morning,’ he said, ‘and I needed a bit of Dutch courage, if you must know. I only went in for one.’

  ‘Well, your daughter tried to stay awake but she’s only a child. You’ll have to see her in the morning.’

  ‘Dad!’

  I shot down the stairs and into his arms at full-pelt. His battered old leather jacket smelled of cigarettes and Daddishness. He hugged me for ages, his chin resting on the top of my head.

  Then he held me back and looked at me, both of us grinning like crazy.

  His hair had got longer and I could see grey in his stubbly chin. He looked the same but different all at once. There was a beery smell on his breath and his eyes were a bit red.

  ‘Sorry, I’m so late,’ he said. ‘I didn’t mean to wake you up. You look about five years older. This sea air is obviously good for you!’

  I wanted to reply but to my horror I wasn’t able to speak at all. I clung onto him, hiding my face in his jacket.

  Dad just hugged me harder, making little shushing noises and saying, ‘Hey, now, what’s all this?’

  I wanted to tell him everything ... about how horrible it was here, about Luka, about how scared I was about starting school. But I couldn’t speak.

  He hugged me a bit longer and then Mum packed me off to bed.

 

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