And she could. She had overheard her angry parents discuss it in the living room the day they came back from seeing him. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Sweeney comes from a deprived background. A broken home. We have to make allowances for him.’
Cam agreed. ‘So he gets away with it every time. A suspension, a black mark on his record, and then he’s back worse than ever.’
Yes, Sweeney had made Derek’s life even more of a hell when he’d returned after the suspension he got for tormenting Derek.
Now, with Paul Wilson gone, Sweeney needed a new victim. Someone else to torment. Well, it certainly wasn’t going to be her!
‘Is everything all right, Maxine?’ Miss Ross asked her one day in English. She was supposed to be reading King Lear. How could anybody enjoy such tripe?
Maxine jumped at the sound of her voice. ‘I’m fine.’
Miss Ross obviously wasn’t convinced. ‘Come and see me after class,’ she said.
After the lesson Maxine stood alone in front of her teacher’s desk. Miss Ross stacked exercise books neatly together before she even looked up.
‘What is wrong with you, Maxine? You’ve been so distracted lately. Is everything ok at home?’
Miss Ross had been kind. She had hardly left Maxine’s side all through the bad times of the funeral. She would understand, even if it would sound weird.
‘It’s Derek ...’
‘But we discussed this, Maxine. It will take your mother time to come to terms with his death.’
‘I don’t think he is dead,’ Maxine muttered.
Miss Ross’s collection of exercise books collapsed all over her desk. ‘What on earth do you mean?’
‘He isn’t dead. He wanders around our house every day with my mum.’
Miss Ross went deathly pale. She must be beginning to think my family’s one sandwich short of a picnic, Maxine thought.
She went on quickly to explain. She knew she better had before Miss Ross fainted. ‘My mum had a seance. Now she’s sure she’s brought Derek back from the other side. That he’s with her all the time. It’s awful, Miss Ross.’
‘That isn’t healthy, Maxine.’
‘I know. But Dad says this is helping Mum cope.’
‘But you don’t think it is, do you?’
How wise of Miss Ross to see exactly how she felt! Her anger at everything erupted. ‘No! I think it’s stupid and crazy. Derek’s dead. And that should be the end of it!’
She was still angry when she went home. Still angry when the phone rang just before tea.
‘Hello?’
For a moment there was no answer, only that ominous breathing. Maxine felt her heart beat faster, began to sweat. ‘Hello!’ She snapped the word out.
Then the voice, very low, very soft. ‘Maxie ... it’s me, Derek ...’
Her anger didn’t let him say another word. She began yelling down the line.
‘No, you’re not! You’re a crank, a vicious, wicked crank. You’re not my brother! My brother’s dead. And ... I’M GLAD HE IS!’
There was a long pause. The line went dead. Whoever it was had slammed the receiver down, shocked by her words.
Good, she thought. That will be the end of that. Now he won’t phone again.
She stood for a moment breathing hard. What had Cam told her? Dial 1471. Find out where that phone call came from.
She did. It was a pay phone somewhere in the town. ‘Press 3 if you wish to redial this number,’ a clinical voice informed her.
Maxine pressed 3.
She hoped this mysterious caller would still be there. She would have something to say to him, whoever he was. Had it been Sweeney? It hadn’t sounded like him, but he could make his cronies do anything. Perhaps it had been one of them.
The phone rang for a long time. So long that she was just about to hang up when suddenly the receiver was picked up.
‘Hello? Who’s this?’
The voice was a woman’s.
‘I wonder if you could help me. I’ve just had a call from this number ...’
The woman cackled. ‘That would be a miracle, dearie.’
‘It was from a boy,’ Maxine explained slowly. ‘Is there a boy anywhere around there?’
‘Probably plenty of them, dearie.’ The woman was drunk. Maxine was convinced of that now.
‘Does anyone live near this phone box?’ She tried not to sound irritated.
‘Not a single soul,’ the woman replied. ‘But people are dying to move here.’
Maxine waited as patiently as she could for the woman to stop laughing. She began to think this was the pay phone at the local mental hospital.
‘Can you give me the address of this pay phone, please?’ Now she didn’t care if she sounded rude or not.
Finally, the woman stopped laughing. Her voice came through loud and clear. And Maxine wished she hadn’t heard her.
‘This is the cemetery, dearie. You’ve got through to the phone box at the cemetery.’
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CHAPTER NINE
There are no such things as ghosts.
Ghosts don’t make phone calls.
She stood by the phone telling herself that over and over again. It didn’t stop her shaking. The phone call had come from the cemetery. She knew the phone box the woman was talking about. Near the crematorium, not far from the war memorial, meant for mourners who wanted to call a taxi or phone for a lift. It was never meant for residents! It was amazing that it was actually working, as it was usually vandalised by the groups of youths who roamed the cemetery, desecrating gravestones, drinking, hiding from truancy officers. And of course, that was the explanation. Some nasty boy meaning to hurt, to scare, to make her wonder if ...
No! Ghosts don’t make phone calls. They have other means of communication. Like Luella Oribine.
Yet, another part of her mind said, what if Luella had brought him back? Brought Derek back from the other side ... what if it really was Derek who ... ?
No! It was a crank. It had to be. Just as Cam had said. What a cruel trick to play on anyone! And again she thought of Sweeney. Just the kind of scary, wicked tactic he would think up. But why?
She dialled Cam’s number. It was his grandmother who answered and Maxine groaned. She was as eccentric as Maxine’s mother, and her accent was so thick it took them ten minutes to figure out what the other was saying. Finally Maxine deduced that Cam was working for his father tonight, delivering takeaways. Just her luck!
Unless she ordered a meal, there was no way she was going to catch him tonight.
So, maybe it was Fate that sent Father Matthew to the house that evening. He arrived after tea, just as Mum was stacking the dishwasher and Dad was asking Maxine once again why she was so quiet. He had noticed her pallor as soon as he’d come home. Assumed she was in for some bug or other.
Father Matthew looked uneasy as he entered the living room. Maxine could understand why. Since the seance, Mum had hardly been to church. Her life had been overtaken by spiritualist meetings and yet more seances.
She who had been a constant visitor to the church, lighting candles, never missing mass, had found something else. Something that brought her closer to her beloved son.
Maxine’s father realised at once why the priest had come. ‘She’ll come back to the church, Father. Just give her time. Once she comes to terms with Derek’s ...’ He couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘death’. ‘She’ll be OK. This is helping her. That’s why I’m not saying too much about it.’
Father Matthew’s voice was soft. ‘But is it? This is unhealthy, this obsession. It can’t be helping her.’
Mum came in from the kitchen and heard him. ‘Unhealthy? This is the best thing that has happened to me since Derek disappeared. I feel ... he’s with me all the time.
And I like it!’
‘His memory should be with you, Mrs Moody. But not his presence. He’s in another place now, and we should leave him there.’
‘I don’t want him anywhere else but here, with me! That’s where he belongs!’ Mum shouted at Father Matthew. Maxine was shocked. ‘You couldn’t bring him to me. That’s why you’re so annoyed.’
She turned her back on the priest then, dismissing him. Father Matthew’s voice was gentle as ever. ‘I’ll always be here if you need me, Mrs Moody.’ His eyes moved around the room and came to rest on Maxine. ‘If any of you need me.’
‘Maxine,’ her father said, already moving to his wife’s side. ‘Will you see Father Matthew out?’
He was being asked to leave, but he didn’t seem to mind. He smiled and followed Maxine to the door.
‘I’m sorry, Father,’ she said.
‘No need to apologise. You should hear the way some people talk to me.’ He smiled and Maxine smiled back. ‘But I did mean what I said. I am here if you ever want to talk.’
Talk? She almost told him then and there about the phone calls, but he would think she was as crazy as her mother. Instead, she asked him, ‘Father, do you believe in ghosts?’
‘Ghosts?’ He shook his head. ‘Although I think you can feel the presence of a loved one, and that can comfort you.’
‘But isn’t that what Mum’s doing?’
Again he shook his head. ‘No. Not like your mum. Derek’s presence isn’t comforting her. It’s taking over her life. She isn’t letting him rest in peace.’
And Derek wasn’t giving her any peace either. Even dead, he was more important to her parents than Maxine. Loved more than her, cared about more than she was.
‘Are you allowed to hate a dead person?’ she asked, knowing what his answer would be.
‘You don’t hate him, Maxine. Hate is a useless emotion. Negative. Doesn’t get you anywhere. Pray for him, and get on with your life. You’re young, you should be enjoying yourself.’ He touched her shoulder. ‘Don’t give up on your mum. And don’t you worry about ghosts either. There are no such things as ghosts.’
There are no such things as ghosts. So the phone calls were just cruel tricks. And what if her mother were to answer one of those calls? She might really believe it was Derek. Oh no! Maxine couldn’t risk that. She had to tell Dad. It was the only thing to do, she decided. He would know what to do about those calls. And it was comforting to know they would be doing something together, to protect Mum.
She waited until that night when he came in to say goodnight to her. Mum was already in bed.
‘Dad, can I talk to you?’
He smiled and sat down on the bed beside her.
‘Do you believe in ghosts?’ She had to ask. She wanted his common sense to reassure her.
‘Oh, don’t you start, Maxine! One in the family’s enough.’
She was saying it all wrong. She knew it. But what other way was there to explain? ‘But, Dad ... I’ve been getting these phone calls.’
‘Phone calls? What kind of phone calls?’
She hesitated for a long time before she answered him. ‘From Derek,’ she said finally. She wanted him to tell her it was nonsense. She wanted him to tell her it was the vicious trick of a crank.
He pushed his hands through his hair. ‘What! What’s this?’
She went on quickly, trying to explain. ‘From someone who says he’s Derek.’
He didn’t let her go on. He stood up. He didn’t shout at her, but his low voice was even worse than a yell. ‘Is this another of your pathetic attempts to get attention? Isn’t it enough I’ve got your mother to pull through this, without you starting your nonsense too?’
She tried to protest. He wouldn’t listen. Why wouldn’t they ever listen?
‘If I hear you mention one word of this nonsense to your mother!’ He looked as if he was ready to cry. Maybe her mother wasn’t the only one who was on the edge. ‘You’d think you would be a help to me, Maxine. Instead, you’re nothing but a hindrance.’
She wanted to cry. It was so unfair. She had only wanted to protect her mum, and now, as usual, she was getting the blame for everything. Crying never did any good. So instead she shouted at him. ‘Derek would be a marvellous help, of course! Wonderful Derek! Maybe you’d rather it was me who was dead, instead of him? Well, now at least you’ve got your beloved Derek back!’
Her father put his hands over his ears to blot out her words. ‘Shut up!’ he shouted. ‘Your mother’ll hear you.’
And then he was gone, out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. More anger in that silence than in any scream.
She’d never try to talk to him again, she promised herself. She’d never tell him anything. What was the use? They never listened. She was alone. She’d never felt quite so alone before.
Father Matthew was right. She was going to live her life, and when that crank called again she was going to call his bluff. She was going to pretend she believed him. She was going to meet this boy who said he was Derek.
c
CHAPTER TEN
She didn’t go to school next day. Instead, she and the Mighty Zola battled it out. Her concentration was gone, however, for she hardly won a game. Cam’s name still appeared triumphantly above her own. Mighty Champion. She began to shake the machine, urging the game to go in her favour.
‘Hey! Hey, you!’ Suddenly Simmy’s son, Taft, was wobbling towards her. ‘What do you think you’re playing at?’
‘I’m playing the Mighty Zola!’ she snapped. ‘What does it look like?’
He stood his ground, hands on hips, glaring at her. She glanced at the cartoon picture of Zola on the screen, standing in exactly that way, bronze muscles rippling. Then she looked back at Taft. Eggs must have been on the menu for lunch, and some kind of baked beans. Shreds of them were encrusted, probably for ever, down the front of his T-shirt. Mighty Zola and Taft, his flabby imitation. Maxine began to giggle.
‘What’s so funny?’ Taft demanded.
Maxine pointed at the machine. ‘Mighty Zola’ – then she turned her finger on Taft – ‘and tubby Taft!’ She laughed again.
Taft took an angry step towards her. ‘I’m going to phone the school on you,’ he threatened. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be there?’
‘Phone them,’ Maxine said, standing her ground. ‘Of course, they’ll let the police know I’m underage and shouldn’t be in here at all, and they’ll shut this place down.’
His brow furrowed, trying to figure it out. ‘You just get out of here. Right now!’ he finally decided. ‘And don’t come back. ’Cause we won’t let you in.’
She swung her rucksack over her shoulder and almost knocked him off his feet.
‘Yes, you will,’ she said, sure of herself. ‘As long as I have money to spend on the Mighty Zola you’ll let me in!’
She felt his eyes bore into her back as she strode from the arcade. She wasn’t afraid of Taft ... he was nothing. Though why was she always so cruel to him? She had never used to be this cruel.
‘It’s a pity it was only your brother that disappeared. Too bad you didn’t disappear along with him.’
She froze and turned to face him. There was real malice in Taft’s voice and in his look. His voice sounded different too. Someone had been making those phone calls. Someone who didn’t like her. Who was trying to frighten her. Could that someone be Taft? She wasn’t afraid of him. But maybe she should be.
When she left the arcade she walked, without thinking where she was going. As far away from school as possible. She had so much on her mind. Eventually she stopped and found herself standing across the street from the cemetery. Wasn’t that strange? she thought. She hadn’t meant to come here ... had she?
There are no such things as accidents, she had once read
. Everything was kismet, everything that happened was meant to be.
Maxine didn’t hesitate. She crossed the street and entered through the big green gates that opened onto the long path.
The cemetery was huge. A dark, shady place even in daylight. Drunks slept in the old Victorian mausoleums that stood almost hidden by trees. Gangs roamed up here in the darkness, vandalising the gravestones. It was a great hiding place for children too with its monkey-puzzle trees shutting out the sunlight, and bushes of rhododendrons covering every path. She remembered that she and Derek had often walked up here. Exploring. Derek loved reading the old gravestones, and he used to enjoy sketching the ornately carved mausoleums. Those were the good times, when she and her brother had got on well. Before everything changed.
‘The dead can’t harm us, Maxine,’ he used to tell her, whenever the sun went behind a cloud and the sky darkened ominously.
She had never been afraid here. Until now.
Yet she couldn’t stop walking deeper inside.
She passed the phone box, situated on the crossroads between the war memorial and the crematorium. The phone box was constantly vandalised and graffiti was scratched and daubed over the walls.
‘SOMEBODY MIGHT HAVE HAD THE DECENCY TO BURY ME WITH A MOBILE PHONE,’ some wag had written.
Maxine carried on, wondering why anyone would go to the trouble of using that particular phone box.
To frighten her? To make her believe that Derek really had come back from the dead to haunt her? No! She wouldn’t believe that. Ghosts didn’t make phone calls, Cam had said. And Cam was clever.
So, someone else was making the calls.
Her feet were leading her to Derek’s grave. She had not been here since the funeral. Fresh flowers covered it still. Mum and Dad came up every Sunday. Maxine stood for a long time just staring at the headstone.
c
DEREK MOODY
BELOVED SON
c
There wasn’t even a date. No one had been exactly sure when he had died. That had hurt Mum almost as much as anything else.
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DEREK MOODY
Missing Page 4