Where Peacocks Scream

by Valerie Mendes

  “Oh?” A frisson of fear shivered down Daniel’s spine. He wondered whether the man had any connection with Jasper. “Who is he?”

  “Our new gardener – and not before time. I’ve been far too busy for the past few weeks to do any work outside, and the terrace is in a disgusting state.” Mum added a dish of scrambled eggs to the table. “Dad and I interviewed him last week. His name’s Harry Jenkins. He’s young, energetic, and he’s had lots of experience in the gardens at Lincoln College. He gave us a set of sparkling references. He lives in Wytham, so he can come and go without getting stuck in Oxford traffic… Say hello to him when you get home. Introduce him to the peacocks, that kind of thing. He’ll have his hands full for the next few weeks, trying to catch up.”

  “You won’t let him trample on the island, will you?”

  “Of course not. Harry will have quite enough to do without tackling that wilderness.” Mum peered out of the window. “At least it has stopped raining. Another tumble of autumn leaves has come down. Be careful on the roads, Danny. They’ll be slippery.”

  Daniel spotted Harry the moment he got home. He’d already made a difference. The terrace was gleaming, the tables and chairs spotless and properly grouped, the striped umbrellas had been taken down for the winter.

  “You must be Danny.” A short, stocky man with a deeply tanned face and a mass of curly auburn hair put down his garden fork and grinned.

  “And you’re Harry. Hi… ” They shook hands. “You’ve been working hard… Have you met the peacocks?”

  “Of course… Bet they’ll look real pretty come the spring. Marvellous creatures, ain’t they?”

  “They are when they don’t eat our neighbours’ allotments or cause fatal accidents!”

  “Heard about that.” Harry grimaced. “But that drownin’ were a one-off, weren’t it!”

  “Hope so! God it was awful…”

  Daniel decided to take Harry into his confidence. He told him briefly about the arrival – and disappearance – of Jasper, though not about the theft of the tank of petrol. “The thing is, Harry, I’m not sure that the man has gone, so would you keep an eye out for anyone you see lurking around?”

  “Loiterin’ with intent, you mean?”

  “Exactly. Particularly on the island. Nobody’s allowed on it but me.”

  “By the way,” Mum said over tea in the kitchen. “We had a couple of pushy young journalists in the pub this morning, asking awkward questions.”

  “Oh?” Daniel’s blood froze. “What about?”

  “Frank Jasper, of course… Nasty questions, too… Personal ones… Like who he was, when he’d left, where he’d gone, that kind of thing. I told them absolutely nothing. The brewery said they decided at the last moment not to go ahead with the sale of the island. I’ve no idea why, but it was obviously the reason why Frank disappeared without notice… The last thing we want is another article about us in The Oxford Times. People are only just starting to forget about that student’s death.”

  Daniel decided to make no comment, either. He stuffed an enormous piece of sponge cake into his mouth as an excuse.

  “I just wanted to warn you, that’s all… The press are unscrupulous vultures. If they come anywhere near you, tell them to take a running jump. You don’t know anything, anyway, but given half a chance, they’ll invent a whole story out of a couple of words. Our saying for the week to anyone with a prying eye is PUSH OFF.”

  After tea, Daniel raced down to the boatyard.

  “Haven’t seen you for a couple of days.” Phil put a finishing sliver of varnish to the side of a rowing-boat. “Anything to report?”

  “Not yet.” He was longing to ask Phil about Chloe, whether there’d been a decision, but he didn’t dare.

  “What are you expecting?” Phil looked sideways at his handiwork.

  “The worst.”

  Phil’s brush hovered in mid-air. “Wouldn’t Jasper have shown his hand by now if he were planning something drastic?”

  “Can’t be sure… He’s probably lying low. Yesterday’s rain may have put him off… And we’ve had journalists sniffing around, asking questions. He may have got wind of that too.” Daniel stuffed his hands into his pockets, praying for a miracle. “I don’t suppose that tank of petrol has turned up?”

  “Nope.” Phil tipped some turpentine onto a clean duster and wiped his hands. “I’ve had to order a replacement. It’s all very odd. I’ve asked everyone who comes to the boatyard. If Jasper did steal it, nobody saw him arrive and nobody saw him go—”

  “But he’s always like that,” Daniel burst out. “Right from that first morning when I caught him staring at me. He can vanish into thin air. It’s one of his many tricks.”

  “I’ve reported the theft to the school and asked them to put up two security cameras. I hate the idea of being watched, but I haven’t got much choice. We’ll have one camera at the top of the drive, and the other closer to the boathouses. The school has agreed, but it’ll take a couple of weeks to organise. The cameras have to be properly installed, or they’ll be useless.”

  Daniel kicked a stone along the gravel path. “I’m going to keep watch again tonight. If I can stay awake, I’ll be more useful than a machine.”

  “Just stay well out of sight,” Phil said. “And don’t exhaust yourself… And if you do spot Jasper, don’t tackle him on your own. He may have a knife or a gun… It’s not worth risking your life for that nasty piece of work.”

  Daniel promised himself he would just lie down for half an hour. Then, as soon as Mum and Dad had gone to bed, he’d be out like a shot, on the island, down by the boatyard, checking.

  But he must have fallen asleep. The next thing he knew he was wide awake and looking at his watch. It was three in the morning.

  He groaned and cursed, pulled on his clothes and crept downstairs.

  Outside, everything was fresh and cool – and exceptionally dark. There was no moon, and the street lights on the road seemed to have cut out. Daniel’s torch struggled to help. He flashed its beam around the terrace and onto the bridge. Nothing out of the ordinary.

  The peacocks slept soundly in their tree.

  He did the rounds: down to the boatyard, across to the garden, over the bridge, onto the island’s lawn, through its woods, back again, and down to the shelter. Nothing and nobody.

  He climbed out and looked at his watch. Four o’clock. In another hour it would be dawn… In one more hour it would be safe to go back to bed.

  He glanced across at The Riverside. He’d almost turned away to retreat to the shelter when he noticed a flicker of red light from a downstairs window. He caught his breath so sharply he could hear the air rasping in his lungs. He stared at the flicker. It grew larger.

  I’m dreaming… I must be imagining it… It can’t be happening… Half an hour ago there was nobody else around… If that’s Jasper’s work I didn’t see him anywhere… Not a shadow, not a whisper…

  He flung himself across the bridge and round to the back of the pub, suddenly terrified that he’d bump into Jasper with his empty tank of petrol. Then the fear for his own safety vanished into terror for his parents, his desperate need to warn them.

  The Riverside’s kitchen was on fire. He could hear a deadly low humming and a sharper, higher crackle as the flames started to bite.

  Daniel wound his scarf over his mouth, opened the back door and plunged inside. None of the three fire alarms had registered anything. Jasper must have doctored them. The stink of smoke and burning wood, the throb of heat, made him feel faint.

  Retching, he dropped to his hands and knees. He clambered like a dog up the stairs and crashed into his parents’ bedroom, his legs shaking with shock.

  “There’s a fire,” he shouted. “The alarms haven’t gone off… Wake up.”

  He shook the sleeping figure
s. They stirred drowsily beneath the duvet.

  “Mum!… Dad!… Wake up!… Now!… Quickly!” His lips tasted of smoke. “There’s a fire in the kitchen. Get up and get out before we burn to death.”

  The Next Train to Paddington

  They huddled together in the car park while the firemen dealt with the blaze.

  Neighbours gathered in their dressing-gowns, staring, keeping their distance. The peacocks, disturbed, flapped off their tree. They strutted on the island, well away from the noise of the engines, the burly men in uniforms, the shouts of instructions, the spurt of the miraculous cooling hose – the sudden sputter of the dying flames.

  Mum said, “I knew it, I just knew it… The evil eye, that’s what he brought into the house… And we nearly lost the lot. The pub, the house, even our lives.”

  Dad hugged her. “But we didn’t, Emma, dear. It’s only the kitchen that’s been damaged and we can put that right in no time. This has got nothing to do with Frank Jasper. I do wish you’d wipe him from your mind… Forget all about him. We had a gas leak a few weeks ago, remember? There must have been something faulty in the pipes. We’ll get everything thoroughly checked out.”

  “The stench of burning is ghastly… We’ll have to close The Riverside again—”

  “No, we won’t. The smell will have disappeared by lunchtime and the pub is fine. While the kitchen’s being repaired, people can still come for a drink and a snack—”

  “But nobody will want to come. They’ll be scared that the roof will collapse on them, or there’ll be an explosion, another death. They’ll find other places to drink in Oxford and we’ll be ruined.” Mum wiped her face with the back of her hand. Soot and grime snaked down her cheeks, along with the tears. “I don’t think I can ever go inside again, Ralph… I don’t want to live here any more… Let’s go back to London. I’m going to catch the next train to Paddington.”

  “Nonsense, Emma, dear, you’re in shock. What you need is a nice cup of tea. Danny did a marvellous job, alerting us. Look on the bright side. It could have been so much worse. If the stairs had caught fire, we might have been trapped in our beds.”

  Mum shuddered. She looked across at Daniel as if she were seeing him for the first time through a cloud of panic.

  “Danny… Are you OK?… How come you’re dressed?”

  Daniel flushed. “I couldn’t sleep,” he stuttered. “I thought something was wrong… I got up and went over to the island… While I was standing on the bridge, I saw flames behind the kitchen window.” His voice wobbled at the sharpness of the memory. “I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

  “You see what I mean, Ralph?” Mum’s voice rose. “Our only child can’t even sleep easily in his bed. What kind of a life are we asking him to lead? Running a pub may be hard on us, but at least we’ve chosen to do it. What right do we have to inflict our choice on Danny?”

  Daniel turned away. He’d spotted Phil standing at the back of the small crowd, and darted towards him.

  Phil held two thermos flasks out to him. “Here,” he said. “One’s tea, the other’s coffee. Looks as if your Mum and Dad could do with a hot drink. Give them these, and then come back to my bungalow. I want to hear the whole story.”

  “I wish there was more to tell,” Daniel said bitterly.

  His clothes stank of smoke, his hair was filthy and matted, his eyes stung.

  Phil had given him a cup of sweet tea and a slice of toast and marmalade. Ravenous, Daniel devoured it in several large bites and longed for a second slice.

  “I woke up at three o’clock. When I went downstairs, I didn’t hear anything, I didn’t see anyone. I’m kicking myself because I didn’t check the smoke alarms were working. But it’s something Dad does on a regular basis. He’d have thought it very peculiar if I suddenly started doing it too.”

  “Jasper could have dismantled the alarms in three minutes before he started the fire,” Phil said grimly. “He’d lived at The Riverside long enough to know exactly where they were.”

  “Yes.” Suddenly, Daniel felt so weary. He was sick and tired of talking about the same mysterious, elusive, confusing, evil guy.

  “Did you go into the kitchen when you came down?”

  “No, I went straight out to the boatyard.”

  “So Jasper could have been hiding inside the pub, waiting for you to leave?”

  Daniel said reluctantly, “It’s possible, except he didn’t know I was going to be up and about. If he did see me, he took one hell of a risk.” He checked in his pocket. “I’ve got my mobile. I could have gone across to the island and rung the police.”

  “Tell you what.” Phil stood up to make more toast. “You eat this. I’ll cut you some ham and cheese. There’s mango chutney in the cupboard. Then go and have a shower. I’ll dash over to The Riverside and tell your parents where you are. I’ll bring you some clean clothes. And then I think you should go straight to school.” He checked his watch. “It’s only half-past seven. You’ve got heaps of time. Try to make this as normal a day as possible. Keep away from all the fuss.”

  “You mean keep out of the way of Frank Jasper!”

  Phil looked across at him. “If he was responsible for the fire, I expect the unmentionable Jasper is a long way away from here by now, running as fast as his big hairy legs will carry him.”

  Daniel stood in the shower, gasping with relief as the water gushed over him. When he closed his eyes, he could see the image of the flames licking at the kitchen window, his mother’s weeping face…

  He shampooed his hair twice in an effort to wash away the memory. Now his lips tasted of soap.

  Wrapped in a towel, he hesitated outside the bathroom door. Phil had left him a pile of clean clothes and a hastily scribbled note:

  Dan: These are for you. Leave your dirty clothes here. You can collect them later. I’ve told your dad that you’ll be going straight to school. Your mum’s still in shock, so it’s probably best not to disturb her. I’ll be working in the boatyard all day. Call in to see me when you get home. You’ve been great. I’m very proud of you. Keep it up and take care. Jasper may be lurking, so watch your back.

  Phil

  Daniel pulled on the clean clothes, suddenly shivering, partly with cold, partly with haste – and partly with fear. He zipped up the jacket and thrust Phil’s note into his pocket, desperate to get as far away from The Riverside as he could, as quickly as possible.

  He started to walk back to the kitchen. He had to pass Chloe’s bedroom. Suddenly longing to see her again, he couldn’t resist the temptation to open her door – but the moment he peered inside her room, he wished he hadn’t.

  All her possessions had been piled into small, neat stacks on her bed: her books, her clothes, a few soft, bulging bags, firmly zipped, as if they, like her, were waiting for her departure and would soon be gone.

  Devastated and panic-stricken, Daniel pulled Phil’s note out of his pocket. On the back of it he wrote:

  Chloe, please don’t leave without saying goodbye. Love, Dan.

  He left the piece of paper firmly wedged on one of the bags where she couldn’t fail to notice it. Then he closed the door and walked quickly into the kitchen, fighting back tears. Why did everything have to change – and so fast? Why couldn’t adults make up their minds who they loved and stick with their decision?

  He wondered whether Chloe had really tried to fight her mum’s decision and, if so, whether she’d been harshly overruled. He felt useless and powerless, furious and desperately sad.

  He opened the back door and stepped out into Phil’s small garden. Across the river, he could see his peacocks strutting on the island. With a pang, he realised that nobody would have fed them this morning. But the birds would undoubtedly make a fuss about it later, when the fire engines had left, when the crowd of onlookers had got tired of staring and had gone home…
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  Maybe Harry would register his absence and feed them for him…

  He wondered what kind of a state the kitchen had been left in, whether the pan of leftovers for the peacocks had been burnt to a cinder, how his mother was coping… and cursed Jasper again.

  He shut the back door behind him and leaned against the wall, trying to remember which lessons he’d have today, whether there’d be sculling on the river. He had a heck of a lot to tell Joshua. No doubt word would already have reached the other guys at school. He’d be the centre of attention at break…

  He’d better text Josh.

  Then he realised his mobile was in the pile of dirty clothes he’d left in Phil’s bathroom…

  It all happened really fast, in the blink of an eye, like a bullet from a gun.

  One minute he was standing there, about to rush back for his mobile.

  The next, a shadow loomed over him and a hand grasped his head in a viciously rough grip. It pressed something cold and wet against his nose and mouth. The smell was horrible: worse than the stench of fire, far worse than the sickening smell of soot. It stank of chemicals in the school lab, only much more strongly. It numbed his skin so that his lips were frozen and he couldn’t call out. It blinded his vision. He couldn’t breathe, he could scarcely think or remember who he was. He opened his mouth to shriek for help – only to inhale sharply and make everything worse.

  In a single moment, the great wash of cloudy sky, the bright ribbon of river, the marvellous trees on the island, his beloved hungry peacocks: everything had disappeared, seeping into a blackness darker than sleep.

  His ribs seemed to snap inside his chest.

  His legs crumpled beneath him.

  Prisoner

  Daniel gained consciousness in dribs and drabs, as if he were surfacing from the grip of a ferocious nightmare that had eaten into his body.