by Tom Grieves
‘Why? She seems lovely.’
‘They’re jealous. Don’t know her.’
‘But you know her.’
‘Yeah. We’re special friends,’ he said, and revealed a shy smile.
‘That sounds great.’
He shrugged and blushed again. Zoe wondered what ‘special friends’ meant, but she also knew that she’d seen and heard too much to trust her imagination. So she pressed on, slowly loosening him up; flattering him, charming him, flirting a little when necessary.
Bud’s face clouded with worry as she pushed for the truth and for a while neither spoke. But Zoe knew that she wouldn’t leave without something. She was used to waiting.
‘Just …’ he paused again, then finally coughed it out. ‘She got cross with Arthur sometimes. Really mad, and he’d run down to the bottom of the garden and cry. And sometimes he’d hide from her, but that was silly. She was just trying to teach him a lesson.’
‘What did she do?’
‘Nothing bad. Nothing at all, hardly … Just made sure he didn’t do it again. But if other people had heard about it, they’d have said she was cruel, or worse. Leaving him out there for so long. People rush to judge round here.’
‘I bet you knew how that felt,’ Zoe said, and regretted it instantly. She was showing too much of her hand, that she’d checked up on him. But Bud didn’t see the slip. He just nodded, staring down at the floor.
‘I wanted to comfort him but I didn’t think it was proper. A boy and a grown man.’
‘So he cried all alone?’
‘Not her fault. Sarah only got cross ’cos she cared.’
She moved a little closer to him and felt him squirm at the proximity. ‘She loved him,’ he added weakly. ‘She’s a great mum. People just don’t see it. They all gossip but no one knows her like me. Not even Tim.’
He took in a quick, short breath, as though he’d said something he shouldn’t have. Zoe wondered if his words had originally been spoken by Sarah, standing as close to him as Zoe was now. She pretended to look for something in her bag, giving him time to relax.
‘I bet she never shouted at you,’ she said with a laugh, her eyes still down as she rooted through her bag. She heard him chortle in agreement. She looked up and saw him grinning at her. Like an open target.
‘Now, let me just tick you off my list and I’ll be on my way. Was it you that found the bike?’
He looked as though he’d been shot. He nodded, unable to hide his unease.
‘Okay, that’s good. Now why isn’t that in the original police report?’
He shrugged unhappily.
‘No matter,’ she said brightly and pretended to write something on the paper. She could tell his eyes were all over her.
‘I think maybe there was some confusion …’ he stammered.
‘Yes?’
‘I found the bike and went and got Sarah and Mr Downing and then we all ran back down here.’
‘How long does that take? From their house to the lake?’
‘Five minutes or so.’
‘Right, that’s not mentioned here. The police seemed to think you weren’t really involved at all. How did that happen?’ she asked casually. He had no answer to this. She let the silence do its work.
‘Bud?’
‘It didn’t seem important, that’s all,’ he said, his eyes rooted to the floor.
She asked him why he would think this, fighting the impulse to go in strong. Bud shrugged once again. The answer, she knew, was because of Sarah. When she asked him if this was right, he nodded, almost imperceptibly, as though the smaller the nod, the less the betrayal.
‘So she told you not to tell the police that you were there?’
‘We just thought it might confuse things.’
‘How would it confuse things?’
She saw his eyes crinkle with confusion. The lie didn’t come from him. Not originally.
‘I just want the kids to come back.’
‘Of course, and so do we. Don’t worry, we’re on the same side.’
He let out a breath of relief and gratitude, with no idea of the thorny trap ahead.
‘The thing that concerns me is that you’ve told a lie. And there’s normally a reason for that. Often it’s to cover another lie. To hide something else.’
He was practically ripping his fingers out of his sockets now. And his raw panic made her nervous. She was alone in a house with a big man, a man who could hurt her easily if he so chose. But she was close to something here.
‘Why did you pretend not to find the bicycle?’
He frowned, as if he was about to cry. ‘They all want to hurt her!’ he blurted.
‘I know, they’re jealous. They’re idiots.’
‘They are!’
‘So this is about protecting Sarah, is it?’
He clammed up again. He veered between panic and brooding silences.
‘Bud, please. Talk to me. Help me find the children.’
‘People twist things. Cops twist things.’
‘I won’t twist anything. Look at me. I’m not clever like that lot. I just care about little Arthur and Lily.’ She hated the exploitation of their names, but she was close now.
‘People think she’s not a good mum,’ he said. ‘They’re cruel because she’s happy. Was happy. If you’d seen her at the lake and seen how scared she was – if you’d seen that yourself, you wouldn’t think anything bad nearly there.’
He nodded to himself, reminding himself how true his words were.
‘She went totally crazy. And I was worried that it was my fault. Because I moved the bike. Maybe he was looking for it and maybe that’s why he went missing. But I saw it on the ground and I thought, that’s his. And I thought maybe he’d left it behind. I didn’t want him getting into trouble. So I went to find Sarah.’
‘You didn’t do anything wrong. Okay?’
He nodded but his face was still creased unhappily.
‘She said that too,’ Bud continued. ‘She was so kind and gentle. She said not to worry, even when she was scared. That’s how kind she is. Thinking of me at a time like that.’
‘She’s great. I see that.’
‘Yeah. And she could see how scared I was and so we agreed that I wouldn’t say I found the bike or that I was around, just so I could stay out of it. So you lot wouldn’t come and hassle me. ’Cos I’m no good when people come and bother me like this.’
‘She just wanted to help you out.’
‘Yes!’
‘Well, that’s nice of her.’ He smiled at her and she almost felt guilty. ‘So she lied for you.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘And did she ask for anything in return?’
His mouth snapped closed again. It felt like he might bolt for the door.
‘How about a glass of water?’ she asked pleasantly. He nodded and turned away.
She followed him into the kitchen – a modest space at the back of the house with a single strip of Formica counter-top and battered units beneath. There was a dog bowl on the floor and big wellington boots by the back door.
He poured water in a glass and handed it to Zoe.
‘I don’t want to get her into trouble,’ he said again, like a mantra.
‘For what?’
‘She’s looked out for me. She’s been a friend. Everyone else thinks I’m simple.’
‘What have you done for her?’
‘It’s nothing to do with the children.’
‘I know that. I trust you. So what was it?’
He shook his head. His eyes pleaded with her – don’t ask.
‘She didn’t ask for anything. She’s my friend.’ The words seemed to restore some sense of control. ‘What else do you want to know?’ he asked, taking the glass off her.
She considered pushing him further, but the tone in his voice gave her pause, and for now she was satisfied. She doubted that Bud had anything to do with the children’s disappearance. He had more to tell, but Zoe worried
that if she pushed him too much now, it might backfire. He would go running to Tim and Sarah, she was sure of that. She remembered that he’d called her ‘Sarah’ and him ‘Mr Downing’. Maybe he would only go running to her. Maybe Sarah kept her secrets safe with Bud and not Tim.
Either way, Bud had been ‘removed’ from the scene by Sarah. She didn’t want the police questioning him and the reasons for that would have to be uncovered. But not right now.
She stuffed the notebook back in her bag.
‘You’re just trying to look after a friend, I understand,’ she said, checking her watch a little theatrically. ‘Thanks, Bud. I know it’s hard, and upsetting too. But we’ll get there, I’m sure of it.’
‘Are you going?’ he asked, surprised that the torture was coming to an end.
‘I am. Thank you again.’
He was confused by this.
‘It’s good to know that someone’s watching out for Sarah. I think she feels very alone.’
He nodded, unsure whether she was friend or foe.
‘Tell you what,’ she added. ‘If I hear anything, I’ll come and find you, so you’re the first to know.’
She could see how her words pleased him. Ten minutes and she had him on a plate. She wondered just what Sarah had been able to do to him, and what lengths he would go to for her.
It was dark outside. Zoe walked away fast, her speeding mind setting the pace. She could see why eyes inevitably turned to Sarah, but was also a little reluctant to hand this ammunition over to Sam without more detail. Out of context it looked bad, but something about this town and these men made her wary of jumping to any kind of judgement. Her mind was racing so fast that she almost didn’t see David, sitting in his car, watching her as she marched past. She stopped to face him.
‘Hello? What are you doing out here?’
He said nothing, just drove off. She watched the car turn a corner and disappear. She looked up. Thick clouds hid the stars and moon. She broke into a run to get back to the hotel. Not from fear, but to get away from the silence.
FOURTEEN
Cam and Lee had been teasing each other about it for months. It had gone beyond flirting to a single dare – they were going to fuck in the showers at Bennington Public Swimming Baths in Oldham just before closing time; just after the last person had gone into the changing rooms. They had nearly done it the week before but there was a man with two toddlers there, which had put them off.
The shower area had twelve nozzles sticking out from the tiled walls, six on each side. There was enough space for swimmers to walk between these showers, either heading out to the water or into the changing rooms at the other end. The showers themselves were a very public space, and that’s what made the dare so delicious.
They chose a Thursday because that was always the quietest day of the week, though neither knew why. They changed as normal, entering near closing time, and swam separately for half an hour, never talking, just catching the other’s eye and laughing to themselves, swollen with their bubbling desire.
There were just two other people there, a woman swimming with her son as the lifeguards came along and politely ushered everyone out. They got out of the pool and walked slowly towards the showers, their wet feet slapping against the tiles. It was the only noise. They saw the lifeguard glance at them, then check the pool, and then head out. Finally, incredibly, they were alone.
Lee leaned against one wall, pressing the shower button with his back, his eyes fixed on Cam. The warm water splashed onto him and they both laughed. She pressed the button on the opposite wall, then turned to face him, letting her bikini top slip to the floor. He pulled down his swimming shorts and they fell around his ankles. She stepped out of hers. Now they were both naked. The thrill hardened into lust as they stared at each other. They were only teenagers, their bodies still thin and unblemished, still deliciously half-baked.
‘Quick, come on,’ she whispered, glancing nervously at the changing-room doors. Lee took a step towards her, his heart thumping. He glanced towards the pool, not really looking, only interested in Cam. But then he stopped and looked again, and saw the woman’s head at the far end of the pool. She was still in the water and when he saw that she was looking at him, he stumbled in shock.
‘There’s someone there!’ he hissed at Cam, and they hurriedly threw their costumes back on. The shock quickly turned into hysterics at how close they’d been to getting caught. They giggled together, trying to make no noise, clutching each other. And then they looked out to the water. Yes, the woman was there. On her own, in the deep end, her mouth just above the water. Cam said later that the way she floated reminded her of a crocodile.
They would have just scarpered and got changed, but Lee thought it was weird, the way she was just bobbing like that, after everyone else had gone, after the guards had told her to get out. So they went over to her a little gingerly, suddenly feeling cold after the showers, feeling weird to be so skimpily dressed. They padded back along the pool’s edge. Lee said that the woman watched him all the time. He couldn’t see her mouth from under the water, but he was sure that she was smiling at him.
Cam noticed it first; the swaying shape beneath the water. It was so unexpected that she didn’t really understand what she was looking at. She just noticed the gentle movement, the slow drift. It took a while to register that there was a body, held down by the woman who still smiled lazily at Lee. A little boy with bright red trunks. His face was turned away from them, pressed up tight against the woman’s stomach.
They didn’t know what to say. The woman just stared at them. Then Lee saw the body too and his legs started shaking. He started cursing, then screaming. Cam ran, leaving him there, finding a young lifeguard who was as ill-equipped to cope with this as she was. He, in turn, called the police.
The woman never got out of the water. Eventually she was dragged out by two officers, clutching the boy to her as they did so. The two of them collapsed onto the side like the catch of the day. She just stared up and away from them, that terrifying smile locked on her face. Unblinking, delirious. The boy seemed so calm, it looked like he hadn’t even tried to struggle.
The woman’s name was Elizabeth Harrison. The boy, James, was her son. She was happily married to Duncan, a tall, muscular Scot who ran a successful business importing stone (for tiles) from Turkey, Greece and the Ukraine. She was a socialite and had also been a member of the local council’s planning committee. When the police asked her friends and colleagues about her, they had all used the same words to describe her: ‘bright’, ‘confident’, ’determined’ and ‘normal’.
Elizabeth hasn’t spoken since that day. She is in a secure wing at a psychiatric facility in Kent. She smiles but her gaze never reaches the person sat opposite her. It is as though she’s somewhere else, she has escaped, she is safe and happy. And this brings a sense of rage and injustice to those who see her. They wish her damned to hell.
The fucking witch.
*
Sam put the file down. He rubbed his eyes, checked his watch, then placed the file on top of the others. Witches. The idea, the word, seemed so stupid. An image blinked into his mind of Sarah smiling up at him from the lake, clutching Arthur tightly to her chest. He dismissed it at once. He was a practical, logical man and fairytales were not a part of his world.
He rang his daughter, but there was no answer on her mobile or at home. He worried about this for a bit before stacking all the files in an even pile and shoving them in a drawer. But they didn’t feel secure enough there, so he lugged them back to his car and dumped them in the boot.
As he slammed the door shut, he saw Ashley Deveraux standing there, watching him. It was as if she’d appeared from nowhere. He looked at her for a moment and then shook his head. A tiny, almost imperceptible no. He saw a flicker of irritation cross her face, but he didn’t want to talk to her, to argue with her, to be seen with her. He turned his back, reopened the boot and organised the already organised files.
When he turned again she was gone.
FIFTEEN
Tim pulled the old-fashioned lighter from his pocket and stared at his engraved initials in the metal. It was a present from his father. He lit a cigarette, then started dragging the bins down to the edge of the drive. The sun was setting and the fells glowed with its dying light. He loved being up there, loved their colossal majesty. He wanted to go walking now, get to the top and breathe in the cold air like he did when he was little. His dad used to take him, just the two of them, and they’d stare down at the patchwork countryside below, hearing nothing but the wind, feeling wonderfully alone.
He lugged the last bin over the paving and dumped it down a little too quickly so that it nearly overturned. He grabbed and steadied it, then stood up straight and looked down the road. He saw his neighbour, Alby Kingston, walking over and he prepared himself for platitudes and sympathy. Alby’s wife, Jenny, had always been disapproving of Sarah, and there had been plenty of sparring (some of it rather unpleasant) before the children’s disappearance. Now, faced with a real-life, right-before-your-very-eyes tragedy, she’d become all eyes and heart, while Alby would skulk about behind her, unable to think of a word to say. He approached Tim and gave him a cheery salute.
‘It’s got warmer all of a sudden,’ Alby said with a sad smile.
‘It has,’ Tim nodded.
‘Jenny was asking after you,’ he said, and pulled an apologetic face. ‘Not that I’m not,’ he added hastily. ‘How are you, mate?’
‘Oh, you know.’
‘I see the police are back again.’
‘Yes.’
‘Different ones. Brought in experts this time, have they?’
‘I’m not sure if they’re anything more than just different, to be honest with you.’
He dragged deep on the cigarette, realising that he was stuck here with Alby until he’d finished it.
‘Do you need any food? Jen keeps rattling on about bringing something over, but says she’s not sure she’s welcome.’
Tim wasn’t going to rise to this. ‘We’re fine, but thank you.’
‘It’s easy enough to stuff in the freezer for one of those days when it’s too much hassle. I’ve even managed to do it myself, and you know what I’m like in the kitchen!’